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It’s a strange day when a large red-eared slider by the name of Leonardo comes tumbling out of a portal to land in the middle of the living room. Of course, the day was strange enough as is, the first anniversary of the Kraang invasion. The day also was known as the anniversary of Leo’s personal biggest fuck up, thought of only by Leo himself. That’s neither here nor there.
The older turtle claimed to be the future version of Leo, the bad-future version. Frankly, Leo’s had enough space-time fuckery for one lifetime and was more than willing to accept the circumstances without much question. He could only survive Donnie’s well-meaning rants for so long before his brain melted out of his nose. Leo knew that nothing would be the same again, not that anything had been ‘the same’ since their fight(s) with the shredder.
Casey Jones, of course, was elated no one could blame him for it. Finding out his master somehow survived certain death and even figured out how to reunite with whom he affectionately called his ‘son’ must have been a momentous occasion. Leo wished he could’ve shared the excitement.
There’s a novelty in the situation, that Leo understands. Still, hearing Leonardo recount getting vaporized nearly to a crisp, having the last hope of humanity fizzle out, to see his son flung through a portal just for the chance at a new life. It was harrowing. Necessary, to fill everyone in and explain how he survived. But graphic nonetheless. The older slider ending up here was little more than a half-baked, last-ditch effort using the last of Michelangelos’ residual ninpo. It more than explained how he got here a year late.
Leo almost loses his lunch more than once during the story. Even deafened by the pain and terror, seeing the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron and shell that perfectly mirrored his own had him hoping the floor would swallow him whole. It only solidified that this was real. It was true. What Casey had told him back when they were trapped together was fucking sugar-coated if anything.
The story ends where this one begins, an old man falling through a portal and ending up in the past, in a different timeline altered only just so. A bittersweet aftertaste.
When he’s finally done, after Leo feels so positively drained of everything in him, the two lock eyes for the first time. Leo sees himself; older, severely traumatized and hopeful. It burned in his chest, the wounds he suffered from the Kraang were well healed over yet Leonardo’s gaze tears them open again. He’s bleeding out.
Leonardo hates him.
Leo’s eyes started to water, and he swallowed thickly. The taste of bile rises in his throat but he keeps it down, saliva thinning out and leaving his mouth too watery. He hadn’t been so lightheaded when Leonardo first came through.
How could Leonardo not hate him? Leo near single-handedly ruined his entire life. His brothers are dead, his family is dead, his friends are dead—
It was Leo’s fault. There was no other way to spin it. Leo was immature and willing to risk it all to prove what he didn’t need to. There was no forgiving himself for that, and having seen the consequences of his actions laid out in front of him? He realized he was lucky more than anything else. He was an asshole, and it would’ve killed everyone on the planet were luck not on his side just once.
The slider, the elder of the two, took a step towards him, metallic hand reaching out. Leo didn’t hear what he said.
Leo couldn’t help the fear and disgust that shook him violently. He winced away. He’d have been sick, had he stayed any longer.
There were no protests as he spun on his heel and scampered out of the room with his tail between his legs like a fucking dog. Leo knew no one would follow him. For better or worse he knew no one would question him either. He’d been all over the place emotionally since the invasion so acting somewhat erratically was not unusual, especially for the time of year. He was faring the worst of everyone, ironically enough.
Well, Leo’s dug his grave. He knows what comes next.
₪
It’s days before Leonardo says a single word to Leo. He’s tried, quite often at that, but Leo manages to avoid him at every turn. Though that isn’t hard, Leonardo is a kind of novelty here, and he’s rarely alone because of it. And Leo is never short of excuses to leave.
“Leo.” He calls first, managing to sneak up on the younger slider in the kitchen. Leo doesn’t turn, eyes glued to the sink and the dish he was in the middle of washing.
“Is it weird calling me that? Since it’s your name and all?” Leo starts, flicking the suds from his hands. It’s crazy how fast his anxiety spikes, how fast his brain is screaming to leave the room. He continues still, rambling as he shoves the plate in the cabinet, “Honestly, scratch that, talking to me at all is probably weird. We should probably never talk, y’know to avoid confusion. And hey— maybe it’s best if we’re not in the same room either?"
He makes a quick turn in hopes of fleeing but isn’t surprised when Leonardo blocks the doorway.
And damn Leo for not having his katana, or having anything nearby that he could use temporarily. For a second he contemplates swiping Leonardo’s, however… The idea vanishes when he notices the purple and red bandana tied to each hilt. He shivers. Leonardo had like twenty years on him and was a seasoned war veteran. Chances are he wouldn’t have won that altercation anyhow.
“You’re behaving unreasonably,” Leonardo says, resting a hand on his hip. He’s missing the prosthetic. The long sleeve is tied in a loose knot just above the elbow and marking the end of Leonardo's flesh and bone. Leo’s not rude enough to stare for very long, even though the questions simmer in the back of his mind.
“I’m really, genuinely not,” Leo counters. He hates how his voice shakes and his hands match. He leans back, pressing himself against the countertop and clutching the lip of the granite. Grounding, grounding.
“Agree to disagree. I’d like to speak with you privately. If you have a moment.” It’s a reasonable request. Leo’s metaphorical hair stands on end regardless. Frankly? He’d rather die. He knows what will become of him.
“Well, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“You can always say no."
“Do I look like a coward to you?” Leo’s voice wavers in perfect irony. He clears his throat though that only draws attention to it. Something kind flashes in Leonardo’s eyes, and it makes Leo want to hurl.
“You look like someone who’s been avoiding me like the plague,” Leonardo replies, good to see the classic Leo-Sass survives the apocalypse. The look on Leo’s face makes him backtrack but for the wrong reason, “Not that… you could get any future or Kraang-related illnesses by being in my proximity."
Despite what he says, Leonardo has the gall to chuckle like he’s told a joke. He sounds too much like a parent, and for a second Leo thinks; No wonder Casey sees him that way. The thought of Leonardo employing parenting tactics on him was not a fun one, not in the slightest. It shouldn’t have angered him as much as it did.
Leo mumbles under his breath, “It’s not the Kraang I’m worried about.”
At the very least, Leonardo is polite enough to pretend he didn’t hear it. As a matter of fact, he looks just as composed as when he came in. Leo doesn’t know how he’s managing it, wonders if Leonardo is masking too, if that’s even a skill you’d need during the end of the world. Leo feels like he’s losing his mind and is forced to trust that the mask will hold up. Though there’s no telling if Leonardo will be able to pick it apart or not.
“We can talk here then, have a seat." Leonardo gestures to the island counter. He has a seat at one end, leaving the other stools open. Leo watches his every movement, sizing up the distance between him and the exit. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt both lent by Raph. It’s almost funny, how Leo will never escape getting hand-me-downs from the snapper.
“I’ll stand, thanks."
If he tried, he could probably make it out the door.
“Take it from me, Leo; blaming yourself won’t help anyone, especially not you.”
What?
The look on Leo’s face must say enough because Leonardo continues before he can butt in.
“There’s no way you could’ve known."
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Leo rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms in another act of defiance. The defense is weak and Leo knows it, but it’s the only thing he can grasp on such short notice.
Leonardo shakes his head and smiles softly. A thousand possible outcomes and Leonardo came here to what— cheer Leo up? Make him feel better about nearly ending the world? A ridiculous thought. In any other scenario, Leo would have laughed. This time he’s just left with something cold settled in the pit of his stomach.
The older slider continues as if Leo hadn’t said anything, “I know what you were thinking that day, how you thought it’d play out. I know you. None of it would’ve happened if you knew any better. You were a kid— still are a kid. They all understand, when will you let your wounds heal?” Leonardo asks, tapping his fingers idly while he speaks. It feels almost rehearsed. The pacing and word choice must have been practiced.
He talks like it's fact, stern and steady. Leo's genuinely taken aback. He’s floored and he can immediately feel his eyes watering. Leonardo stares, waiting, peeling away Leo’s exterior with some kind of awful tenderness. Something buzzes in his chest, and Leo’s afraid if he lets his barriers down, it will wreak havoc on everything he loves.
Like a wounded animal caught in a trap and gnashing teeth at anything that approaches, Leo can hardly tell friend from foe.
“I don’t like this joke,” Leo responds, glaring down one of the cracked tiles on the floor, near the entryway. He wonders if Leonardo remembers how it happened, how he (they?) had talked Raph into letting them play with one of Donnie's machines in the kitchen. That was back when their biggest worry was refilling their snacks before the Lou Jitsu commercial break ended.
“Oh, if only I were joking. That’d make all this a lot easier, wouldn’t it? Regardless of my intentions or your feelings, you have to accept that no one blames you—” Leonardo starts, surely another tangent of what Leo hopes are empty words. He knows better. That’s what makes it easy to interrupt.
”I blame me! ” He snaps, anger flaring in his chest all at once, clawing its way out from the cracks in his plastron, “What gives you the right to come in here and— and pretend you know how to fix all my issues? What, like a couple words are gonna solve the fact that I killed them?”
There’s no stopping Leo now, and the older slider hides his surprise well, but Leonardo forgets it’s a two-way street between them. Much has been changed and rusted over, but he’s a Leo. And if the current Leo knew anything, he knew himself. Leonardo was older and more mature of course, though Leo knew him because he was him. The trauma and despair he endured hadn’t changed that in the slightest. It was the one thing he hadn’t accounted for.
Hot tears sear lines down Leo’s cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been so upset, so close to a meltdown, “Everyone you know is dead and it all traces back to me, back to that day. I wasn’t fast enough, I wasn’t smart enough. I. Wasn’t. Enough. Everyone either got hurt or died. Saying 'it’ll all be okay’ won’t fix what’s wrong with me.”
Leonardo barely blinks, his eyes are watering too, and still so unbearably kind. Somehow that makes it hurt even more. He looks sad, and all at once Leo realizes he has gone too far. The anger and misery still hold their rightful place inside his chest, though he’s as capable of self-reflection the same as he is self-destruction. Biting words and feeding hands, however that saying went.
It feels cowardly to look away, but Leo does anyway. The older slider slowly stands and paces towards him, experimental and cautious. Leo lets him approach. Leonardo steps close into his space and this time Leo doesn’t flinch or back away. He stands his ground as if that small amount of courage will make up for his outburst in Leonardo’s eyes.
And then the coarse sleeve of Leonardo’s shirt is wiping at his face. The tear tracks are rubbed away and Leonardo is careful when he pulls Leo into a hug.
The slider doesn’t know how to react for a few seconds. He’s never been hugged by anyone larger than him, save for Raph. Despite Leonardo’s efforts to keep Leo’s face clean, Leo ends up crying again anyway. He clutches at the older slider’s shirt, Raph’s shirt, and tries to stifle the sobbing the best he can. They’re still in the middle of the kitchen at ass o'clock in the morning.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Leonardo assures, stern but caring. While he speaks, he rubs Leo’s carapace the same way his dad did when he was younger, “You’ve made mistakes you’ve more than made up for by now.”
He could never make up for it.
Leo doesn’t reply, just clings a little tighter, breathes a little heavier. Leonardo gives him a good squeeze. This time Leo doesn’t feel the phantom pains of his plastron cracking. He wishes he could stop crying already.
“They love you so much, they know it wasn’t your fault. You love them with every bit of your being and they know that. You’d never hurt them if you could.”
Despite everything, Leo musters up a watery laugh and says through his tears, “I did a real shit job of showing it.”
He regrets saying it immediately because Leonardo pulls away from the hug right after it. Thankfully he doesn’t go far. He cups Leo’s cheek and makes a few seconds of vulnerable eye contact, “You have time, you can show them.”
“How could they forgive me? How… how do I forgive myself?”
“You take baby steps. If you don’t believe anything else I've said, believe me when I tell you this; I forgive you, and I’m so goddamn proud of you. You can start there, by trusting me when I say that.” Leonardo has to wipe Leo’s face again after he says it because it sparks a whole new flow of tears.
Leo’s voice shakes in spite of him trying so hard to keep it steady. The hesitation lasts barely a second, but Leo looks up at himself and sees nothing but hope and determination in Leonardo’s eyes. It’s hard to believe anything in opposition when given a look like that, “I can trust you.”