Chapter Text
It starts with a dull headache, as many sicknesses do. Not anything serious, but enough to raise some questions in Leo’s mind.
He’s the self-proclaimed team medic, after all. He ought to know when his own body is rebelling against him. But right now, it’s not a concern. He has bigger issues at hand.
“Catch me if you can, turtles!” Hypno yells from his unusually fast van. He waves out the window at them, taunting them with the wads of cash in his back seat.
As far as Leo knows, Hypno and some worm guy had robbed the local bank by trapping all the employees and citizens in a hypnosis similar to the one he’d used back at the magic town house. Stupid Hypno. He doesn’t even fight, he just relies on his powers. What kind of mutant doesn’t fight his enemies one on one? Psh.
“You’re slowing, Leo! Let’s take a portal!” Raph shouts from next to him.
They’d been avoiding portals on the off chance they landed too close to the speeding van and…well, that would end pretty predictably.
Leo nods and readies his swords. “I gotcha, bro!” He tries to aim for the red light in the distance. That should be a far enough distance to stop and portal the van away without getting hit.
Concentrate. Swing. Mystic power oozes from the blades and blue light floods the street.
Thank God that it’s too late for any pedestrians to be out.
Leo and Raph sprint straight through the portal, landing a few feet before the red light. Not exactly as Leo had planned, but close enough.
He staggers out of the portal, head aching even more than when the mission had first started. That’s…strange. Mystic powers had never really weakened or hurt him before. But now it seems his health gets worse the more he uses them. Worth a look.
“Come on, Donnie, Mike, we need that turtle tank right about now!” Raph shouts into his phone. Leo holds his swords up as Hypno and that worm guy approach quickly. He has to time this just right, so they don’t swerve out of the way at the last second.
The swords light up blue. Hypno is just a few yards away. One second…two…
He swings his swords, blue light rushing from them and into a portal. The van hurtles towards them, and…
Swerves.
Damnit dammit dammit. He was too early. He was off. Leo isn’t off anymore. He always gets it right!
For a second, he’s too stunned to move, or even close the portal. Raph is yelling something that his brain refuses to decipher. His vision gets fuzzy at the edges, furthering his hypothesis. Today is weird.
Everything is weird.
“Leo, what was that?!”
“I missed.” Leo says, unthinkingly, his almost incredulous doubt leaking into his voice. It sounds like a question. “Sorry, Raph. We can still catch em.”
He looks over at his older brother. The older brother in question looks mad. Hopefully not at Leo. He’s gotten desensitized to Raph’s constant rants about responsibility and heroism, but he still hates them anyways. Besides, it’s not like he meant to be too early. It’s not his fault.
It’s not.
…Right?
Raph sighs, pinching his brow between his fingers. “Let’s get back to the lair. We don’t stand a chance, but Donnie and Mikey have the tank. Maybe they can find them and catch up.”
Leo’s swords fall to his sides in defeat. He hates how disappointed Raph sounds. But going back to the lair, collapsing in bed, sounds like a great idea.
“Fine. Meet you there.”
He opens the third portal of the night, staggering straight into his bedroom in the lair. At least he got the location right this time.
Leo finds himself collapsing straight into bed before he can even think of how mad Raph is going to be when he gets back.
…
“…not like him to mess up. At least…not now.”
Leo comes around in a bed that is most definitely not his own. His head feels stuffed with cotton, if cotton was made of needles and fire. Ow.
Not to mention, his arms and legs feel weak. He feels cold and hot and sweaty all at the same time. And his throat, Jesus.
What happened yesterday?
“Whatever. He messed up, Hypno and Warren got away. Now we have to focus on what comes next. As soon as Leo wakes up and gets out of Mikey’s bed.” The voice comes strangely close to Leo’s face, and the words seem pointed directly at him.
His eyes flutter open to see Raph’s blurry face inches from his own. Leo jumps.
“Jesus, Raph, warn a guy!” He shouts, voice strangely stuffy and raspy. Ugh. He must be sick.
“Maybe warn a guy that you’re going to sleep in his bed.” Raph retorts. “Or that you’re going to leave him alone in the street in the middle of the night. Or that you’re going to mess up the entire mission!”
Wow, rude.
That does help to jog Leo’s memory though. He really messed up last night, huh? Not to mention, he must've portaled to the wrong bedroom last night when he collapsed. He’s still wearing his bandana, swords discarded by the bed.
“It’s okay, Leo. You can sleep in my bed anytime! Just rry to warn me first.” Mikey smiles. Leo’s heart melts. His youngest brother is too sweet for his own good.
“You don’t sound great, Leon. Are you sick?” That’s Donnie, leaning in the doorway.
Leo hates when Donnie sees the little things about him, like a different-sounding voice or a slower run than normal. Twin things, he supposes. “Just peachy, Don tron. And what about you? Get hit by any cars last night?”
“Nope. Just went on a wild goose chase around the city.” He sounds kind of annoyed. Then again, it’s always hard to tell with Donnie.
“Whatever. Just be ready soon, okay? We’re going to stake out Hypno’s apartment, see if we can find out where he put the money.” Raph says. The three of them leave the room.
Everyone seems to be annoyed with him. Rightfully so, he guesses. But no one seemed to care that he wobbles when he stands up, that his voice sounds like it’s being run through a computer, that sweat is slready beading his forehead.
It’s pretty expected of them, actually. They’re not bad brothers at all. Most of the time. But, when they were younger, Leo was a lot like the turtle who cried wolf.
He was quite the dramatic little child. He would put on plays and shows all the time, often faking sickness to get out of training. Every other day he’d put a thermometer to a light bulb to show Dad his abnormally high temperature, or spray his face with a water bottle to get that sweaty sheen.
That whole thing kind of blew up in his face.
Ever since his brothers caught on to his act, they became less concerned about his seemingly fragile health, and more convinced thag every single sickness was faked. It usually took actually puking up his breakfast for them to ever believe him.
He doesn’t blame him. But sometimes he wishes he didn’t have to go to such drastic measures to prove himself.
Anyway, Leo knows by now thag they won’t care that he’s sick even if he does tell them. He’s powered thhrough every illness and ailment for the past few years, all on his own. He doesn’t mind. It gives him medical experience, keeps his own weakness out of his brothers’ path, and gets rid of the days of suspicion that surround his sniffles and coughs.
Hiding his problems is just better for everyone. It always has been.
So, Leo stumbles out of Mikey’s room and to his own to clean up.
Hiding a sickness isn’t too hard around his brothers anymore. They’ll notice, sure, but won’t go to great measures unless he starts puking. Which hasn’t happened in years, thank you very much.
All he really has to do is take some medicine and rest as much as he can without them finding out and accusing him of faking. He’ll take hot showers whenever possible, avoid eating, and drink plenty of water. It’s simple. It’s the easiest solution.
Leo can’t help but wish they would care, just once. Bring him hot soup in bed and sit by his bed while he sleeps. But he knows he brought this upon himself, and he will bear the consequences himself.