Chapter Text
The hours stretched on into nothingness. It was nothing but the same white walls, same antiseptic smell and blood-stained bandages...
The other two were asleep in their respective rooms, exhausted or just trying to escape. He remained sitting deathly still in the bed. They sat in the same short, wooden chair to the side. It hurt their back, and their knees had to bend acutely in order for them to even sit down.
He had tubes going up his nose and out of his arms. He was so far wrapped with bandages that one might not even notice him lying atop the colorless mattress, if not for the blood still dried to his skin.
The monitor beeped, their fingers raced across a screen.
Approximately 50 hours since the accident. Patient has not regained consciousness. Shows no signs of waking up. Oxygen levels are low, but stable.
He'd be fine. He had to be. There was someone who needed him.
They sat aside his bed, only letting go of his hand to refill their coffee or stretch their legs a moment. They didn't know what time it was. It didn't matter, everyone was asleep. Everyone but them.
They sat alone in a silent lair, waiting for their second half to wake up and look them in the eye again. They had the same eyes, so it felt more like looking into a mirror when they looked at their brother. They even got lost staring in their reflection of the dark screen, only able to see their sleeping twin instead of their own face.
Complete silence wasn't something they liked, nor were they used to it. Something was always breaking, someone was yelling or being yelled at, there was never a dull moment. Now the murky minutes fell like a pen on a rug. Something was supposed to have happened by now. Something... anything. Anything but this.
He was breathing, at least. Sometimes they felt euphoric about the fact. He wasn't dead and that was something. That was everything.
What a selfish thought! To celebrate someone no older than a little boy, who could never get to experience another smile, another sight, another texture or song or food. So yes, he had to wake up. He still had so much left to do.
Even if he opened his eyes, would he want to go on? What if he drowned in his own hatred, and took matters into his own hands? Yes, he could finish the job..!
They clasped their hands over their own mouth as if to physically stop their thoughts. That was enough thinking. They just wanted everything to stop so they could listen attentively to their brother's breathing. Because he wasn't alive, not at all, but he wasn't dead.
They let everything in. Copious amounts of glass and metal were in the room. Medical instruments, glass trays. They couldn't get over the smell of latex and alcohol. The beeping...
The beeping.
His heart beat. Because he was still alive, and who should they thank for that?
Despite loving what the obnoxious sound represented, the constant beep was the only sound they'd heard for hours. Those extensive hours alone in the white room were nothing short of Hell.
They couldn't bear it. It drilled into their head.
Upon the ringing in their ears, they could manage to decipher a voice in the static. It was him, saying all of his funny quips, or making those stupid puns to brighten someone's day. He used to burst through the door to the lab, just to say the outrageous joke he'd recently thought up.
They found themself grinning and shaking their head at some of the worse jokes. Maybe everything would be okay if he could just wake up and tell them another. Just one more, that'd be fine. They might get greedy, and keep him in their grasp longer than needed, longer than he wanted. It's not like they could help it.
He'd left them! He'd left all of them, everyone, and expected them all to be fine? Bullshit, bullshit! They wanted to run and scream from the top of their lungs how they hated him, how they despised him, and maybe how he'd be better off dead.
That would be too cruel, though. They still loved him, he was their brother. Who couldn't go a day without a hug, or else he'd assume they hated him. He was admirable in that way. He showed affection like no other, and they missed it horribly. They wanted to be held. They wanted him to say that he'd never leave them again. They wanted to feel that casual arm around their shoulders, accompanied by the side glance and mischievous chuckle that meant trouble.
They missed him, and he was right in front of them.
"Dee, you fell asleep."
They snapped back to reality. They hadn't even realized they were starting to drift off. Someone was above them, staring down with the softest gaze they think they've ever seen.
"Leo?" They muttered, pitifully quiet, still shaking off the feeling of waking up.
"No, it's me, Raphael. Leo's still sleeping." He provided, pointing to his sleeping figure. "You really need to get to bed."
"No!" They screamed, hardly letting her finish. "No, if he wakes up I-I need to be here. Yeah- yeah, I gotta be here for him."
"He's not waking up."
What?
"I mean, not anytime soon. Can't you tell? They... got him good." Raph sighed deeply, "He might not bounce back from this one, Donnie. You have to realize that."
The slap that they delivered resounded throughout the room. They stood up, and they slapped him
'Not bounce back? Of course he would! It was Leo! It was... he was... he was fine! Everything was fine!
The cycle stopped eventually, as all things do. Mikey was in a particularly deep sleep of his own, but the first thing he did when he woke up was check on Leo.
His energy had been drained dramatically. If Donnie wasn't so worried about Leo, they'd be right next to him. He too seemed to be in a particularly horrid state.
"I'm sorry." Mikey whispered. "I-I couldn't get him in time."
He believed Leo to be dead, obviously.
"Mikey no, you saved-"
They couldn't finish their sentence in time as he dropped to the floor. He was beyond exhausted, there was no way he should even be able to walk from his room all the way there.
He showed up once more in the dead of night, welcomed by silence. "Is he okay?" Mikey had asked, perking up.
"No, not really." They responded quietly, the strain on their voice prominent. They were tinkering with a small device, more just messing with it than anything. They hadn't worked on anything important. "He won't wake up."
"Oh."
They ignored his distraught expression, took a chance, and laid their feelings down in front of him. "I'm scared we won't be able to get him out of it. We can't keep him hooked up forever."
Mikey left. The door latched before they even knew he was gone. They knew they had messed up, something was clearly wrong. They were just... not okay either. They know they should suck it up for him, or something of the sort, but they can't. They physically can't be any better than they are now, and that fucking sucks.
They're so caught up on Leo that they can't even make time for anyone else. It's not like they're even doing anything, just sitting and staring, listening, feeling...
"He's not coming back."
I know.
"He's not coming back! Give up already! We can't keep this up for much longer!"
Stop fucking yelling.
"Let him go."
"Shut up! Shut up- shut up, shut up! I fucking hate you, Raph! How can you give up so easily?" They gasped, instantly covering their mouth. "Wait, I didn't-"
But this was real.
"I see. Now that Leo's out you're tryin' to take his place? Is that it?"
"What do you-"
"You both just try to tick me off!" He scoffed, dismissing them with a wave of the hand. "I get it, I'll leave. I'll leave and you can sit here in the dark for hours holding his hand because you haven't got anything better to do. Sit here and wait all you want, I don't give a damn. Just don't expect me back."
She slammed the door on her way out. They were locked with the clouds of regret, and they didn't have the energy to fan the fumes away.
How does one come back from this? This is heartache beyond comparison, a kind of Hell that burns your skin clean off of your bones and turns everything to ash. Everything's falling down. Was this a descent into madness, or simply a bump in the road? Would they ever be able to go back to the way it used to be?
Even if he never came back?
His life was in their hands. Their significantly less capable, scarred hands. After all, they weren't anything without him. Right?
They suddenly couldn't bear another night in there. They went to sleep in their own room, which smelled weird and felt cold and so unfamiliar. The minutes passed much the same in there. The environment had changed, but the time which was so unbearable stayed exactly as it was.
After a few hours of trying to sleep, they gave up. It was time for coffee. They grabbed the empty mug on their nightstand and groggily stumbled to the kitchen.
They could hear something in there, or more likely, someone. It was probably their father getting a midnight snack or one of their siblings just as restless. They heard a rustling noise, the clanking of glass, and a cabinet door slamming shut.
They dropped their mug and it crashed into the floor, shattering on impact.
Leo was awake, standing up and alert. He was preparing a bowl of vanilla ice cream, and he'd jumped half a foot into the air when he heard the crash. He hadn't screamed, or made any expression, he hadn't even said anything to Donnie.
They had grabbed his trembling hands, one was bleeding from where he'd ripped out the needle. They took him each away from his task. Then they muttered with a dazed euphoria, "You're awake. You're awake. You're- you're back!"
He pushed them away as they tried to hug him, recoiling in on himself. His back slid down the wall, allowing him to curl into a ball on the floor. He looked so terribly frightened. Even when they urged him, he wouldn't speak. They understood it and everything, but they had missed him.
They sat alongside him all night, neither sleeping a wink. He let them hold his hand, and lie on his shoulder and just cry. But not once did he acknowledge them.
It didn't matter. He was back.
Wasn't he?