Chapter Text
When he was a kid, Leo didn't really know what his future would be like.
Sure, he had a lot of ideas about what he wanted it to be like, though the exact specifics tended to change on a whim depending on his latest fascination. He wanted to be an action hero, like Lou Jitsu or Jupiter Jim. He wanted to be a kickass ninja warrior, like the sort their dad always said they were training to become. He wanted to be a basketball star, he wanted to be a pro-wrestler, he wanted to fight and he wanted to win. He wanted to be the best at something. He wanted recognition.
He wanted to feel like he was worth something.
Which was a little bit more of a nebulous goal to achieve, so for a while he was pretty noncommittal about what he actually wanted to do. He usually stuck with the ninja thing, since as mutants living in the sewers their options were pretty limited. Until the revelation of the Hidden City had suddenly broadened their horizons to a serious degree, but even then he hadn’t really thought too hard about it.
He got his first glimpse of his future as it collapsed on their floor, bleeding from a hole in its side. His future was missing an arm. His future had scars on its plastron. His future called itself cooler than him.
…His future was right.
He was cooler.
His future was a leader, a commander. His future gave orders and expected them to be followed. His future had a student trailing after him, starry-eyed and hanging onto his every word. His future was bigger, tougher, and more badass than him on every level.
His future absolutely hated his guts.
And yeah, maybe he was being a little bit of a prick. Maybe he was pushing some buttons. Maybe he was a little ticked off, because even if this guy was technically him, he had absolutely zero right to just bust into their home and start acting like he was God’s gift to turtles. No right to spit insults in his face then immediately start ordering his brother around. His older self didn’t seem to like him much, and Leo made it perfectly clear that the feeling was mutual.
“Besides,” he said, scowling at his future self and watching his wrinkly expression twist into something even more unpleasant, “if we mess it up, you can just hop back in time again and fix it.”
There was a sharp inhale from his future self. Quicker than he could think to defend himself (because he hadn't realized he'd need to defend himself at all), there was a fist flying towards his face and he was sprawled out on the ground with his cheek stinging and everyone around him shouting.
He supposed he had to be glad his future self hadn’t hit him with the metal hand. Bastard could’ve broken his jaw.
"Leo?" There was Mikey, kneeling next to him and looking concerned. Donnie sat at his other side, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Raph was standing in front of him like a brick wall. Any warmth that seeing them rush to his defense might’ve brought was buried under his stinging bruise. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Fine. He was fine. He had a pretty punchable face, didn't he? They had a pretty good track record with people they'd just met trying to kill them. Particularly trying to kill Leo, who couldn’t help himself when it came to his smart comments sometimes. Why should that change just because this was technically a different version of Leo? Really, he should have been more on guard. The wary set to his future self’s shoulders should’ve been a decent enough indication of his mental state. (That being completely unhinged.) “Just help me up.”
Leo very carefully kept his gaze averted as Mikey and Donnie pulled him up to his feet. Raph was still talking, something about them being willing to help if the self-proclaimed “cooler Leo” backed off? Which-- technically not his decision, but then again, Leo didn’t feel like much of a leader at the moment. Leaders usually didn’t get knocked around so easily. Leaders didn’t need their little brother to get ice packs for them. And they didn’t need their older brothers standing up for them, either.
Future Leo certainly didn’t need it. Then again, Future Leo didn’t even have any of his brothers with him. Because his future was so much better than him at everything. And his future was something without his brothers around.
“Come on, we gotta go get ready,” Mikey whispered as he led Leo away.
Their destination wound up being the bathroom, where Mikey sat him down on the edge of the sink and removed the ice pack from his face.
“Well, it didn’t break the skin,” Mikey said, carefully poking at his cheek. Leo couldn’t stifle his wince quick enough to keep Mikey from noticing. “But I can already tell it’s gonna leave a mark for a little while. I think we still have some of that arnic-whatever left, and you probably want to put a bandage on that--”
“It’s fine,” Leo interrupted. “We heal fast, right? Just leave it.”
Mikey bit his lip.
He knew his brother well enough to see the urge to say something in the way he fidgeted with his hands, glanced away, kept opening and closing his mouth in a series of false starts. He was even worse than Leo at hiding his feelings.
“Just spit it out, man.”
“Why did you push his buttons like that?”
Leo grimaced. Damn. He’d kind of been hoping Mikey would push him about taking better care of himself of being a hypocrite when it came to medicine, not try to talk about that whole thing.
“I...”
“I know you’re a talky guy, and I know you have a tendency to snark, and I know you do it more when you get defensive. But--” Mikey huffed, picking at the wrappings around his arms. “I know he sort of started it, but... He looks like he knows what he’s doing, dude. Normally you don’t mind backing off if someone really does know better. That’s why you let Donnie handle science stuff and me handle emotions stuff.”
“I just--” ...got mad. He got mad. That was really all there was to it. This guy busted into their home acting like he was so much better than them, so much better than Leo even though he just looked older and had fewer pieces left, and Leo lost his cool. He got jealous, and scared, and nervous, and insecure, and all those other things he hated admitting to. And so he did what he always did when he felt like he needed to go on the defensive-- he fell back on snarky words and a standoffish attitude. But he wasn’t ready to have a conversation with Mikey about his piss-poor coping mechanisms with his own vulnerabilities, so instead he just shrugged and finished lamely; “...I don’t trust him.”
Mikey frowned. He was way more perceptive than any of them liked admitting, and he definitely knew Leo wasn’t being totally honest, but he also wasn’t going to pry when they were on such a strict time limit. (He would pry. But he’d do it later, once they had several unoccupied hours for him to really tear into Leo.)
“But he’s you.”
“No he isn’t,” Leo immediately replied. “He looks like me. Sounds like me. But that old weirdo isn’t me, okay? He’s some freaky future version of me from another dimension or whatever sci-fi crap Donnie was muttering about.”
That got him a grimace, and Leo knew he was definitely getting a visit from Dr. Feelings later, but again his brother didn’t pry.
“Look, can we just go? We gotta grab our stuff before my evil clone gets on our case about taking too long.” He made to stand, but Mikey set a hand on his chest to stop him. His expression was more serious than Leo could remember seeing in the last several months. “What-- Mikey, c’mon, we don’t have time for this.”
“I’m not gonna get on your case about whatever’s going on that you’re not telling me,” Mikey said softly. “You don’t wanna talk right now. Fine. But you’re not an idiot, Leo, so don’t act like one. You’re hurt. Let me help.”
...Right. The bruise. For the self-proclaimed team medic, Leo was pretty bad at actually keeping his own wellbeing in mind.
“Alright,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in resignation and letting Mikey put some cream on his face and carefully stick a white plaster bandage over it. For the briefest second Leo wondered why he hadn’t gone for one of his usual brightly colored bandaids with the smiley-face patterns on it, then he decided it was probably another instance of Mikey having scarily accurate insight into their personal issues. (Leo was worried about looking immature in front of this version of himself who seemed so much more competent. Somehow, Mikey had definitely figured that out, and so refrained from giving him the kind of bandaid a kid might wear.)
Leo severely owed him.
Before Mikey could move back, Leo reached forward to set a hand on his shoulder and pull him into a hug. “Thanks, Miguel,” he muttered. “Sorry I’m such a jerk.”
Mikey immediately hugged him back. “You’re not that bad.”
“I guess you’re right,” Leo agreed. “Future me is way worse.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll sort him out,” Mikey said, leaning back to give him a smile, and all at once Leo was glad to not be on the receiving end of that tone of voice. Or the receiving end of that knife-point grin. “And I’ll run interference if you want, okay? He won’t hurt you like that again.”
“It’s fine. I don’t need you to defend me.”
“Maybe I want to. I don’t like people picking on my brothers.” He frowned. “Even when they’re kind of picking on themselves.”
Leo hopped off the counter, slinging an arm around Mikey’s shoulders as he aimed them towards their bedrooms to retrieve their weapons. It had probably been more than the five minutes they’d been provided, but Leo honestly didn’t care. Future Leo could raise a stink if he wanted-- Leo didn’t care.
He didn’t care.
“I told you, he’s not me, he’s from another dimension! He’s like-- my evil clone! Like Saturn Sim.”
“Hey, I like Saturn Sim,” Mikey said. “I wish they brought him back. Seventy-one was kind of a bust aside from that whole plotline, and he and Jupiter Jim could’ve been really good friends if they just thought about what they had in common instead of what was different about them.”
“Mike, he was evil.”
“He was misunderstood!”
Leo had his brothers at his side. And whatever trouble his future self caused them, he’d be able to face it head on.