Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hold still.”

If they weren’t currently squeezed closed, Leo would have rolled his eyes. Because he was trying but —

Oh pizza supreme, he could feel it caught half way down his throat.

A tug.

A flood of sticky cool adrenaline seeping into every inch of his body.

Freezing his entire body.

It wasn’t supposed to be there it—

It was.

It was just a camera. 

Another tug.

Another pulse of that sharp ice sensation.

It sped his heart.

It spasmed his throat.

And his breath—

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Everyone was always telling him to just breathe slower. Take deeper breaths. But ever since the Krang invasion—

In. Out. In. Out.

It wasn’t. He couldn’t. If he could he wouldn’t—

Tug 

Red hot

Sandpaper

Ice shard

Leo flailed his left hand.

The tugging stopped. 

A man sighed.

Leo focused on slowing his breathing down. On a good day he could get a solid two second inhale with Mikey leading. So now he should at least be able to slow down to one.

Half second in.

Half second hold.

Quarter second out.

“Are you backing out already?”

Half second in.

Half second hold.

Half second out.

Leo pushed back the tension in his face

Half second in.

Quarter second hold.

Half second out.

He peeked out of his eyes. The man speaking was nothing more than a blur of a black suit, in a sea of blurred white coats. 

“You know you won’t get better if we can’t get this imaging.”

And Leo did know that. His brothers were already healed enough to start jumping between rooftops. And they wanted to get back into the swing. Go out, get pizza, be heroes. But Leo— Last time he went with them—

He couldn’t.

He can’t let them down.

The man, Bishop, must have seen the change in his face. Because the blur of the back suit loomed larger as he asked, “Can we keep going?” 

Leo squeezed his eyes closed again.

One second in.

Quarter second hold.

Half second out.

Leo raised his left thumb for one breath.

He could feel the camera move again. Traveling, inch by inch, down his throat. 

And his throat did not want it there.

He could feel the saliva pool in the back of his cheeks. 

He could feel the back of his throat spasm as it tried to fight against the camera. 

He just had to ignore it. 

It was supposed to be there. He just had to breathe. 

His heart jackhammered in his chest. 

His fingers curled around his chair’s armrest.

He could feel the ridges of plastic dig into the pads of his fingers.

Each joint of his hand burned under the pressure.

He just had to relax his grip.

One finger.

Two fingers.

Thumb.

Each breath forced calm into the fingers.

That calm radiating out. Forearms, shoulders, toes he hadn’t realized were curled.

And his cheeks.

They slackend enough that warm stringy liquid crept down the sides of his face.

And the ew he heard matched the one he felt as the drool inched its way down his cheek.

There were people in the way of his hand. But maybe if he could—

“Hold still,” Bishop admonished, “you’re just making this harder.”

Still

Still

Still

He could be still

It wasn’t hard.

It was the lack of doing anything. 

And doing stuff took effort.

Not doing stuff shouldn’t take effort.

So why was it so hard?

Why couldn’t he just do nothing?

Why was the pressure on his hands so high? Why were his feet so cramped? Why was his heart beating so fast he could feel it hitting his shell?

And there was a shot in his stomach.

A fiery pressure that it did not like. And in retaliation it attempted to force everything out.

The camera stayed.

But bile didn’t. It fled up his throat and through his mouth and dribbled past his beak. It followed the path the drool had forged. 

And then it pulled ahead. 

Dripping down the rest of his cheeks. Falling onto his shoulders and pooling between his shell and his neck.

His left hand jerked against the armrest. 

“If we stop now, we’ll just have to repeat everything from the beginning.”

He didn’t want to do this again. 

He just wanted this over.

He couldn’t do this again.

So he had to keep going.

“Good,” the man said, his voice sounding so far away as he continued to speak. “Keep him still.”

Hands on his shoulders.

Hands on his plastron.

Pressure. Bad pressure.

Colored dots pulsing against the black of his eyelids.

“There, that’s much better.”

The voice was far away. Down a tunnel.

And no sound.

Suffocating silence.

Sandpaper in the throat.

Colored dots, fading to black and pulsing inwards.

Ridge of the armrest, falling away.

Grey.

Black.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Burning lungs

Burning throat

Pitching forward

Head in knees.

“Come now, no need to be so dramatic.”

Bishop’s voice was far away. Like the murmur of New York life heard from the depths of its sewers.

“The good news is that we didn’t see anything of concern,” He said. 

His voice came in and out of focus as Leo stared at his left foot. 

It was green, with two toes curled so tight they were almost folded over.

“So we can try an MRI tomorrow.” Bishop continued, voice light, “Although you may need to practice holding still before then.”

Bishop gave a slight chuckle at his own joke. Leo copied the sound. His breath huffing against his knees. 

“There’s a bathroom on the way out if you want to clean yourself up.”

Leo raised his thumb on his left hand.

He could hear his blood circulating through his tympanum.

He could feel his knee press into his cheek.

He could see his foot slowly uncurl.

He could smell the sourness from the liquid that pooled in his shell

And he could taste the acid that clung to the back of his throat.

Yes, he was definitely getting cleaned up before heading back.

He just needed to stand, and put one wobbly foot in front of the other. 

Watch for the floor to turn from linoleum to gray patterned carpet. Watch for the baseboards to stop, replaced by the crack at the bottom of a wood door.

Look up to check the sign.

Open the door by leaning his weight into it.

Three sinks.

But only one had a raised faucet. Leo stuck his head under that one. He maxed out the flow from it.

This liquid felt so much better running down his cheeks.

The hiss of the water. How he could feel the bubbles leaving it when it hit his head. The way it snaked out like rivers over his skin, twisting in loops that almost felt alive as they curled over his skin.

He closed his eyes and let the water run over him. Arms braced on the cold granite countertop. Top of his head pressed against the faucet as his forehead pressed against the lip of the sink.

He could watch the water splash into the bowl. Spinning and swirling before disappearing into the metal covered drain.

The way the water flowed off his skin felt good. Like it was pulling everything away. Down down down, to where it couldn’t touch Leo anymore.

And if he tilted his head back just a bit, it would flow to the crusty areas between shell and skin. Flooding it out so that it dripped over the lip of his platron and into the sink. 

Well most of it.

Some of it clung to his plastron and snaked its way down. Some pooled onto the countertop where he pressed against it. And some split to the left and right. The left side snaked its way over his arm, soaking his glove and dripping off of his finger tips. The right side dripped down his chest, stomach and legs.

The puddles that it made were good puddles. Not sticky. Not threatening to drown him. Not smelling of sewers.

Just clean water under his toes.

He’d have to find a towel or something. Because whoever came into the bathroom next would not be pleased. April would complain of wet socks. Or Donnie of unsanitary conditions that propagate mold. Or—

“Is someone in here?”

Leo jumped.

He face-planted into his bed, katana clutched tightly in his hand.

It wasn’t him. He wasn’t wasting the water. He was just chilling. Not his fault. 

Leo waited, struggling to contain his shallow breathing. But no one came barging in. No shouts of who left the water running rang out. No knocking continued.

And why would it?

It was the sink at the office complex of Bishop’s clinic that he left running. Not his own. 

He should probably apologize for that.

But later.

Right now all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Just swing his legs onto the bed. And—

Not good. Not good.

Leo flipped to his right side. He was barely balanced on the bed. But at least the white hot feeling of having his lungs squeezed had abated. 

And this was fine. 

If he curled up and grabbed the far end of the mattress he wouldn’t fall. 

Probably.

Besides, it was too much work to readjust himself. And all he wanted to do was close his eyes.

It didn’t matter that his throat felt raw and throbbing if he closed his eyes.

It didn’t matter that his heart was hammering and he still had black fuzz on the edges of his vision if he closed his eyes.

Nothing mattered if he closed his eyes.

—

“-o!”

“Leo!”

Metal squeaked against metal.

“Leo! There you are!”

Leo jumped at his big brother’s voice so close to his head. If not for the fact that he had his arm wedged between his mattress and his wall he would have found himself flat on the floor.

“Have you been sleeping all day?”

Raph’s voice pitched up as he spoke, too high and too fast. Leo groaned low in response.

“Well,” Raph continued, voice shifting from a nervous high to an annoyed low, “have you?”

Leo was not sure. It depended on what time, and what day it was. And the only way that he could tell that was by checking the phone that his hand could not locate on the nightstand.

“You knew you had an appointment today.”

No he went. He definitely went. He could tell because his throat still felt like a bed of coals. Every dry swallow tilting those coals and stirring up the flames. 

Except—

Except Bishop had mentioned something about a different test, right? Something was on the schedule for tomorrow— today.

“Aww, man.” Leo groaned. Icy adrenaline flooding his system as he pushed himself up.

“Whoa,” Raph said, holding one of Leo’s arms in his large hand. “I said had. You missed it.”

Leo let out a puff of air and leaned forward. He knew that he should call and reschedule. But honestly he felt like he just got out from under the weight of the fridge balance. 

Bishop could wait one day for a phone call. 

So Leo had no more reason to stay up. He laid back onto his side, heeding the call of his heavy eyelids. If only his hammering heart would get the memo and let him pass back into sleep.

Raph sighed. “I just wish you would take this more seriously.”

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how much he knew that this wasn’t about him, that Raph was just being like this because he was worried, it didn’t stop him from wanting to argue back that he was trying.

His shortness of breath however, that did the job that concern for his family couldn’t.

“Knock Knock dear Raphala,” Donnie’s voice rang out from the entrance to Leo’s room. “I take it you found our missing brother?”

“Yeah, he—”

“Has an appointment tomorrow for an MRI. I know.” Donnie said. “Bishop included the schedule when he sent me the imaging from today’s exam.”

Leo was vindicated. Or he would have been if his heart didn’t feel like it was going to leap out of his throat.

“Anyway,” Donnie continued, leaning over Leo before pulling back. “Ew. Nardo. Why is your bed wet?” 

Donnie shook his hand out. “Nevermind. I do not want to know. Just come on, get up.”

Leo begrudgingly took Donnie’s hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. He leaned against his brother, and although he knew it wasn’t technically a hug it just felt so good to have Donnie’s arm wrapped around him. 

“Raph’s got it.”

Raph’s voice was small. And Leo felt his biggest brother move behind him and strip his bed. Which was honestly embarrassing, he could get it himself once he got his energy back. But by the time he thought to say as much, Raph was walking away, the hole in the shell over his shoulder shining like it was under a spotlight.

“So,” Donnie said upbeat as he guided Leo back to his stripped bed, “good news Nardo”.

“Yeah?” Leo whispered more than spoke. Keeping his voice low enough that only a few of the coals in his throat flipped.

“Yeah. I didn’t see anything of concern on the images that Bishop sent.”

Leo deflated, sinking down to sit on his mattress. That didn’t feel like good news.

“I must say, you certainly are a lucky turtle,” Donnie continued. “Most humans would need to wait months between getting these tests done, and most mutants couldn’t get them at all. You’ll need to take notes for me about the MRI. It’s such a cool medical imager. I’d love to see one up close. Well, I’d have to remove my tech first, it is a giant magnet after all. But it would be worth it for some of the clearest images of our actual anatomy. Which would further our knowledge of ourselves and potentially prove useful in figuring out what exacting is going on with you.”

“Mmmm” Leo hummed. He knew he should be encouraging Donnie to get back out and enjoy science outside of his lab. But— 

“Aren’t you just thrilled?” Donnie asked

“Yeah.” Leo replied, voice hollow.

“Yeah, I dunno Dee, he doesn’t sound thrilled.” 

“Mikey,” Donnie chided, turning towards their youngest brother. “What are you doing here?”

“Raph told me Leo’s up. And I have honey tea.” He said holding the steaming mug, encased by both of his hands, up.

“Oh right,” Donnie breathed. “Of course, there can be some soreness after the imaging.’

Mikey slid past Donnie and all but forced the tea onto Leo. The warmth felt so good when he wrapped his hands around the blue mug. He felt bad for taking it from Mikey, but Mikey had already pulled his hands away. Leaving Leo to stare at the comforting brown liquid, while telling himself that he was absolutely not going to cry into the drink. It would ruin Mikey’s work and it wasn’t like he had anything to cry about anyway. 

“I-I may have gotten a little ahead of myself,” Donnie said, his voice stilted, “I’m going to scan through the images and see if I can find anything of interest. I will compile my results for you into slides for tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” Leo whispered into his tea.

He heard Donnie’s footsteps leave his room. He felt the mattress dip as Mikey sat beside him.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Leo said, savoring the way that the warmth of the tea smothered the fire of his throat.

It was only after the drink that he caught Mikey’s disapproving look.

“Tired,” Leo admitted, “and a bit sore. But overall fine.”

“And emotionally?” Mikey pressed.

“Fine.”

“Leo-o.”

“Just fine.”

“Come on Leo,” Mikey begged, “work with me here. I just want you to try.”

Leo stared at the tea in his cup. It was easier than facing Mikey’s puppy dog eyes, or worse, his disappointment.

“You know, Mikester. He did just wake up, and he has had a long day. Maybe you should wait until he’s a bit more awake,” Raph’s voice was calm and soft. “In the meantime, can you help get him up? I’ve got some fresh sheets that just went through the dryer so they should be nice and warm.”

“On it,” Mikey said, gently pulling Leo up to his feet. “We’ll take a rain check on this conversation.”

Mikey placed Leo’s mug on the nightstand as Raph made the bed behind him. They waited in silence until Raph stood up and asked.

“Do you want to lay back down, or join us for a run to Run of the Mill?”

“I’m tired,” Leo said. Letting the implication stand instead of filling it out with a lie. A year ago, even if he was twice as tired, he wouldn’t miss a chance to go to Hueso’s restaurant, even if it meant falling asleep on his pizza. But he would slow them down, and they would get worried.

“Ok.” Raph said softly.

Leo sunk down into his bed. Curling onto his right side. The sheets were warm. And when Raph fluffed the blanket over him, that was warm too.

Nice and warm.

And the voices of his brothers drifted through his cracked door.

They were safe. 

And he 

was

so

—

It was dark when Leo woke up. No voices of family or television drifted to greet him either. It was ideal sleeping conditions, but the rumbling of his stomach and dry mossy feeling of his teeth denied him rest.

So Leo hoisted himself out of bed. The choice between kitchen and bathroom was easy. He didn’t want to brush his teeth twice, and even if he wasn’t with them he trusted his brothers to bring him back some pizza.

They did not disappoint.

A whole pineapple pizza was there, and Leo grabbed two slices. 

The microwave was on the other side of the kitchen so he didn’t bother. Besides, pizza was good cold. 

The first bite was perfect, a slight tang from the tomato sauce that was quickly covered by a pop of sweet from the pineapple.

The second, bigger, bite would have been even better, if his jaw didn’t decide to remind him how long he had it propped open that morning. It popped when he closed it, throbbing behind his checks and all the way up his skull.

But it wasn’t a problem. He just had to take a page from Sunita’s book. Get a fork and knife, ignore his new yorker pride and—

And wait by the sink, just for a minute, as his breathing calmed down and his peripheral vision returned from black to the pale amber of the kitchen nightlight.

Just three steps back to the stool. And then waiting with his head on his knees as the worst of it passed.

Which while embarrassing, was not the worst that he’d endured.

Like that time, barely a week after the invasion, when they got the results from the EPF’s bloodwork. Apparently Hamato ninpo was super effective at burning out Krang infestation, and the four of them decided to head to Mike and Lou the Brothers Tony Pizza to celebrate. 

They never got there.

Leo had doubled over after exiting the manhole. His whole body felt wrong, like he was being squeezed in a vice that had been heated over a fire. Standing back up was utterly out of the picture. 

And it wasn’t like he had anything that he could blame. 

Sure there was a little head trauma, but he and Donnie had both been personally cleared by Agent Bishop of the EPF. And sure, there was still shrapnel from the technodrome explosion embedded in his scales, but Raph, Donnie, and Mikey were all sporting a spider web of geometric fissures on their arms that had only then reached the painfully itchy stage of healing. 

Those injuries were initially bandaged by the EPF when they found the four of them on Staten Island. They also gave Donnie a cast on his other arm and Raph a course of medicated eye patches that he had only recently finished. 

Not that they helped with everything. They did not have the ability to fix the shell and plastron fractures on the left side of Leo’s body. But Leo handled it, stabilizing the fractures front and back with epoxy, hooks, and wires. 

But that wasn’t the only injury that the EPF couldn’t treat. Because although they stitched Raph’s shoulder, they could not do anything for the hole in his shell. And with that piece missing, Leo couldn’t either.

All in all, there was no reason that Leo would be the only one that couldn’t get there. And yet here he was, stopping what should have been a night celebrating the freedom from worry with more worry.

Leo learned from that night. 

He learned to avoid breathing too deeply. And he learned to avoid traveling too far from home. Which was fine because there was plenty to do around their lair to fix it after the Krang attack. 

And then Donnie got his cast off, and they decided to celebrate at Run of the Mill Pizza.

Leo was so proud of himself for thinking of his portals and offering the quick trip to his family. And he was so happy that they accepted.

If only it had worked.

The portal left Leo winded. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t take a breath deep enough to calm the feeling.

He told himself at the time that it didn’t matter. It was supposed to be Donnie’s night. He was supposed to be acting as a turtle buffer between Donnie and any dish that could be deemed too slimy. 

But the more he tried to talk and joke the more his vision narrowed. 

And apparently his brothers could tell the difference between falling asleep after a long day and night, and passing out mid sentence when his vision narrowed to black.

They had to leave early. 

Raph had to carry Leo all the way home.

Leo learned his lesson.

Always leave his one remaining sword in his room, never risk being caught out without a quick trip home.

Not that Leo went out much after that. At least until they got, what Mikey called, a most fortuitous phone call. It was a follow up from Agent Bishop, asking if there were any lingering issues.

They quickly accepted Bishop’s offer. And Leo found himself with an appointment at the new EPF clinic in New York.

He portaled himself and Raph there. And waited with his head between his knees as Raph got him checked in. He could hear a couple on the TV comparing bathroom sizes, he could see the feet of former Krang victims around him, pink flesh and partially removed eyes pulsing.

And the second after Raph sat down next to him, Bishop was calling his name.

Ralph remained in the waiting room as Leo followed Bishop through the gray carpeted hallways.

The room was dim, and Leo struggled to hold still as he laid under an x-ray machine. He thought that he has done well, but Bishop still admonished him for leaning to the left.

He remembered waiting alone in a white tile room that was much too bright.

He remembered Bishop’s scoff as he commented that the amateur patch job on his shell needed to go, the wires were most likely causing the tension in his shell.

He remembered expressing feeling nervous and Bishop responding by asking him if he wanted to get better.

He remembered the echoing pops as each hook was pried off.

He remembered the icy adrenaline pulsing through his body as one of the pops was different, deeper than the others.

He remembered the pressure in his shell that sent his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm as Bishop calmly realigned a fracture.

He remembered the subsequent heat, so unbearable that it narrowed his vision to a pin prick.

He remembered being cleared to leave, but the words not processing until minutes later.

He remembered teleporting home.

He remembered shuffling into the bathroom, and using water from the sink cupped in his hands to take the strongest painkiller he could find there.

It was over an hour later, when a Raph so terrified that anger rolled over him raced into his room, that Leo remembered he forgot his brother.

That he had left him there, and gone off on his own without telling his team. 

Leo knew that he should listen to the lecture, but the pain medication knocked him out before Raph had finished.

Still Leo learned his lesson. 

He couldn’t forget his brother if he didn’t bring him.

So when the new fiberglass shell repair didn’t ease his breathing, Leo went alone to the EPF.

Their next assumption was that discomfort from the shrapnel was causing him to subconsciously take smaller breaths. So everything had to be removed.

It took several more x-rays, and five sessions of agents digging through his skin, to remove every fragment of the technodrome and Donnie’s tracker. That one was an accident. But he was two hours into a session and the constant pressure, sting, relief, and the growing sharp throb in his shell meant that he forgot to warn the agents about it until one of them pulled it from under his skin. 

Just another way Leo had let down his brothers.

Just another way he failed.

Leo blinked. 

His knees dug uncomfortably into his forehead. The metal handles of the fork and knife indented the palm of his hand.

He pried himself back up, so he was sitting on the stool, not doubled over. 

The pizza in front of him was unappetizing.

But his brothers had gotten it for him. And with what he had endured just to get the utensils to eat it—

Leo couldn’t let it go to waste.

He powered through even as he made the cuts smaller and smaller.

He hoped that it still counted as eating both of them if he only scraped off and ate the toppings, throwing away the remaining crust. 

Leo didn’t dare look at the time. 

He just told himself it was night, not morning and continued with his evening routine by heading into the bathroom. 

He brushed his teeth for as long as he could, only stopping when he was leaning over the sink, grasping the toothbrush too tightly in one hand and panting past lips foamed with toothpaste.

He knew that he was breathing too hard for a real shower. But the stuff that his sink wash didn't get was dry and itchy on his skin.

So he counted himself lucky when he saw one of the small plastic step stools the Splinter used to reach high places tucked next to the sink. He must have been cleaning the mirror or something. But Leo was not in the mood to question his luck. 

He placed it into the shower and sat on it while warm water ran over him. It worked far better than a sink faucet.

He kept his eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of the constant spray. Even when he reached out to grab soap, he didn't peek. He didn't know if he was using his own or his brother’s soap, but the feeling of being truly clean pushed off any other thoughts that he could have on the matter.

Even as the last of the soap and grime drained off of him, he stayed unmoving. 

And even when the speed of the drain didn't quite match the speed of the shower, causing water to rise up towards his ankles, he stayed unmoving.

It was only once the last of the hot water was replaced with cold, did he drag himself out of the shower. 

He wrapped himself in a towel partly to chase off the cold and partly to prevent a repeat of the wet bed incident.

He waited, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, until he was equally warm with or without the towel. Only then did he dare leave the bathroom.

As he crept back toward his room, he could hear the soft murmur of the TV in the living room. And as he approached he could see the light, and the shadow of his father in front of it.

“Ah, Blue,” Splinter said cheerfully but without turning around. “Are you up early or up late?”

Leo shrugged.

Splinter turned towards him and patted the beanbag next to his armchair. 

“Come join me, it is prime commercial time.”

Leo did. He sunk into the beanbag chair. He always forgot how nice it was to sit somewhere that cradled his shell instead of pushing hard pressure points onto it.

As his eyes glazed over, seeing but not processing the commercials, Leo wondered if anyone would complain if he stole this beanbag for his room.

It was so comfortable.

And Leo was 

So

—

Leo woke to a warm hand on his shoulder. The thick blankets draped over him and his father’s gentle voice tried to lure him back to sleep. But the words his dad spoke had other plans.

“Purple mentioned that you had another appointment today.” Splinter said.

Leo jerked awake. He needed to change, he needed his phone, he needed his sword.

“I can drive you, if you want,” His father said as Leo pulled himself up. “It would be a good excuse to commandeer Purple’s new van.”

“No,” Leo said, waving him off, “I got this.”

If there was a response, Leo did not hear it as he teleported to his sword. The time on his phone, only half charged on his night stand, showed that while he wasn’t late yet, he wouldn’t be as early as he usually liked. 

He pulled on a fresh set of sweatpants and a new hoodie, before swinging his katana and creating a neon blue portal. He dropped his sword on to his bed before stepping through the portal.

The clinic was the same as it always was. Gray carpet, cheap chairs, and the ever present monotone of people looking at or flipping houses on the TV. 

Leo rested his forehead on his knees. His breaths came out in short huffs, but he was actually rather proud of himself. Despite leaving the lair later than expected, he could probably get his breathing under control before—

“Come along, Leonardo.”

Shooting to his feet did nothing to help him get his breath. But Bishop was already walking and Leo couldn’t lose him.

Despite the way his vision narrowed, only showing him gray carpet and the back of Bishop’s shiny black shoes.

Bishop didn’t slow down as he navigated the twisting hallways. He never did. And Leo just had to keep placing one foot in front of the other. It couldn’t be much further. The building was only so big.

“Well?”

Leo gasped, hands on knees, thankful for the pause.

“Leonardo, it is vitally important that you listen to me.” Bishop’s voice cut through the sound of air rushing in and out of Leo’s mouth. “Did you have anything for breakfast this morning?”

“No,” Leo stated, forcing the word out with a breath. 

The pizza, while good, was technically closer to dinner than to breakfast. Maybe if he had had more time, if he had grabbed something, he wouldn’t have gotten winded by a simple walk.

“Good.”

Bishop sounded pleased. And Leo was so glad his breathing swallowed the ‘rude’ that he wanted to toss back at him.

If Bishop noticed the annoyance that flashed across Leo’s face, he brushed right past it.

“You can sit here,” Bishop said, pointing to an off-green chair, which Leo gratefully lowered himself into. “One of my assistants will be by shortly to get you set up with contrast. In the meantime, you'll need to take off everything you're wearing and place it in this box. It is very important that you do not have any metal on you.”

“But, my shell.” Leo started, hand going towards where the hooks had been placed.

“That’s fiberglass now, remember?” Bishop stated flatly. “We removed that haphazard patch job. You are welcome.”

“Right,” Leo breathed.

“Moving on, here is a gown here that should fit,” Bishop said, placing a stack of thin papery fabric in Leo’s lap. “Please make sure to have it on before my assistant gets here.”

“Right.”

They were very hung up on human sensibilities here. Leo knew that. It’s why he showed up in sweats and a hoodie instead of his usual gear, not that he had worn his usual straps and belt much since he had lost one of his swords in the invasion. It just felt unbalanced without both swords.

And he was glad for that fashion choice as the building was cold. Great for agents wearing full suits, less great for turtles. 

Leo dumped everything he had into his hoodie pocket. And while it wasn’t much, just his phone, gloves, and socks, he still made sure to keep it steady while removing the hoodie. 

He hissed at the cold air. And the short sleeves and thin fabric of the gown didn’t help to cut the chill. 

Leo took a moment, head in knees, before standing up. He dumped the hoodie into the box. He then paused for a moment to say a quick farewell to the warmth that had been blessing his legs before removing and tossing the sweatpants in as well.

He sat back into the chair, arms crossed in front of him. The room he was in was plain, it was painted light gray and held only the box, his chair, a second chair, and a small table between them. The only thing of interest was the large window. It gave Leo a glimpse into the room beyond, and the large machine that took up most of the space in it.

It wasn’t that he was scared. He was Leonardo, he faced down the Krang. He wasn’t going to let some cylinder get the better of him. 

He was going to do this. They would figure out what was going on. And he would stop disappointing his family.

And he took the first, very hard, step by not jumping when the door to the room swung open.

“Turtle,” The agent said as she set down a tray full of needles and tubing on the table between the chairs. “I’m going to get you set up with contrast before your MRI, please give me your arm.”

Leo obliged, uncrossing his left arm and holding it out to her. He very deliberately did not look towards her or the instruments that she had with her.

She tied something elastic feeling above his elbow before speaking sharply.

“Flex.”

His left arm was held in her hands, so Leo flexed his right arm. It was an odd request but—

“This hand,” she said dryly, “open and close.”

Leo obliged. Opened and closed.

“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Leo nodded and continued clenching and unclenching his hand.

She tapped the side and crook of Leo’s elbow.

“Is this where you had the blood drawn from?”

“I think so,” Leo said.

The whole aftermath of that day was honestly a bit of a blur, between the adrenaline and the hits to his face. He remembered that he was in the same observation room as Donnie, and some agents in suits came in, there was a tube against his arm slowly getting warm, and then being told to hold gauze. He definitely was holding the inside of his elbow. But the left side of his shell had been injured, so maybe they drew from the other—

Leo huffed at the sting in his elbow. His hand remanded a fist as he could feel the sharp end of it push, retreat, twist, and push again.

The pressure released.

“Not too bad,” Leo said lightly.

“It’s not in yet” She said sharply. “Keep flexing your hand.”

Leo continued flexing. His jaw tensed to keep the hand moving when another sting hit his elbow. There was more pressure with this one, the twist sharp.

“Stop moving.”

Leo obliged.

She removed the needle and pressed a bandage to the area.

“Are you sure this was the area?”

“It may have been my other arm?” Leo answered softly.

She gave a harsh sigh and untied the elastic from Leo’s left arm. She moved briskly to his right side and reapplied it to that arm.

Leo flexed his right hand, careful to stop as soon as he felt the pinch of the needle. And he could feel the pressure, the twist and scrape and the release. 

She tapped his arm more harshly. Turning it in her grasp. 

To the right was the needle she was going to use, to the left was the tray with the rest of them. So Leo was focusing on his knees when there was another pinch. 

Pressure.

Twist.

Pressure.

Release.

Warmth.

Bandage.

“Elbow is no good,” she stated, pulling off the elastic. She immediately reapplied it to Leo’s wrist. 

“Just move your fingers,” she said, “And watch me so you know when to stop.”

Leo hummed a response. 

He watched the bones of his hand move under the skin in time with his fingers.

He watched the veins firm under the skin as she applied an alcohol wipe to the whole of the back of his hand.

He watched the needle approach.

He stilled his hand.

The pinch was worse.

And he could see the edge of the needle, like the beetle from that movie, pushing up his skin as it rooted around.

And he could feel— It felt like metal skipping over bones, as it slid back and forth.

Leo whined, deep in his throat. And the pressure released, just for a moment. And then returned, higher on his hand.

More force was on this one. Her fingers pinched his skin, and he could feel it skidding. 

He should have made a comment about sticking his hand in a hornets nest or something, but he wasn’t currently breathing.

Release.

Gasp.

Gloved hands turning his. Electric burning pulses. And a pinch even closer to his thumb.

He didn’t breathe again. The narrowing of his vision as it went from room to ceiling to panel to individual black dot distracted him.

Because he couldn’t think about the moving thing in his hand, that treated his nerves like messy clothes to be kicked out of the way.

Pressure released.

Leo sucked in as much of a breath as he could get.

“You didn’t drink enough water did you?” She asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “That’s why it’s so hard to get a vein.”

She undid the elastic on his right wrist. And when she released his hand Leo pulled it back, sticking it under his leg. 

The pressure helped the grinding throb that built up in it.

The elastic was tied onto his left wrist.

“Flex your fingers.”

Leo did as he was told, eyes screwed shut.

He was brave. He—

The needle bit the back of his hand. Leo held every muscle in his body perfectly still. No tension, as the needle twisted. No shake as it pushed too hard. Complete stillness.

Release.

He was strong. He could do—

The pressure built slowly sliding down his hand before the sting. Leo didn’t dare swallow as it jittered between bone and tendon. 

Stillness.

Pressure.

Stillness.

Release.

Bandage.

Leo gasped. His breathing was making him shake too much.

He had to do this. For them. For his family. He couldn’t disappoint—

Fire expanded from the base of his thumb. And it kept moving. Deeping and in circles and he could feel the structures of his hand flee from it. And—

Release.

Removal.

And despite the deep throb that the return of blood flow caused, Leo didn’t dare move. If she had gotten it, he wasn’t going to mess up the work. He wasn’t going to make her do it again.

“We’re out of needles,” she sighed, voice clipped. “I need to get more.”

“If you get me water,” Leo breathed, “I could chug it. Make it easier.”

“No.” She said sharply, Leo flinching away at the tone. “Bishop wants an unobstructed view of everything, water, like food, would get in the way.”

She grabbed the tray. 

“I will be back.”

No.

No No No.

He didn’t think to check if Bishop sent him an email last night. But he must have. And it must have contained instructions. Instructions that he ignored when he ate the pizza.

Maybe.

It could have been late, but the lair was so dark, and he never checked a clock.

And Dad was awake right after.

It must have been early.

Not late.

And Bishop would know.

He could hear the lecture now.

Messing up important imagery, something vital for his health, because he wanted pizza and a beauty nap.

And he could deal with that.

He had so much experience dealing with that disappointment.

But—

Leo pushed his left hand under his leg.

He was going to have to do this all again anyway. 

There wasn’t a point to get it done today.

He— 

He could feel his hands throb against his legs.

He could feel his inner elbows join in.

He was so tired.

So tired of the pain, and of the lectures, and of always being out of breath.

He was so tired of being so tired.

And there was nothing he could do except—

Leo tossed the gown on the floor and stumbled to his feet. He didn’t bother with his sweatpants. His family was used to turtle shell. 

He shouldn’t have bothered with the hoodie either. Stretching his arms to get it on, hurt. And the way the cuffs pulled against his raw hands.

It was a poor choice.

But at least everything stayed in the pocket . He didn’t have to pick anything up except for his sweatpants.

He knew that the responsible thing would be to tell Bishop why he's leaving. That he should admit that he ate last night and will return tomorrow, directions followed to the letter.

But—

He was so tired of lectures. 

And what if Bishop told him not to go? What if he just decided to get the images twice. More data is better after all.

No

Nope Nope

Negative

It was time for an executive decision. He was the leader so he was ending this today. 

Right now Leo couldn't help his breathing. He couldn't help the disappointment.

But he could stop useless pain.

He would stop it.

Leo teleported home.

His room was warmer than that office. But he didn’t take off the hoodie. 

It was safe.

Although a little uncomfortable with everything weighing down his pocket.

Most of the items he dropped on the bed but his gloves. He hesitated with those. They were smoother on the inside than the hoodie, and pressure did help with the throbbing of his hands. 

It wasn’t fun getting them on, but they helped.

And once his hands took up less of his attention. Leo looked at his bed. 

Sure he could lay there. But last night, the beanbag chair was so much nicer. 

Besides, it was his relaxation day.

And he wanted a comfortable nap.

Leo padded through the lair, pleased to find the blankets that Splinter had brought still draped over the chair.

He laid down, completely covering himself with the blanket.

It was warm. It was dark. And it was so nice not to have another appointment weighing on him.

Just for today. It was a perfect relaxation day.

Leo let himself drift.

He would have gone to sleep completely if not for the rapid and heavy footsteps.

“He's not there,” Raph’s voice easily carried across the lair. On the edge between scared and angry. “Donnie, where is he?”

“Never fear dear Raph-a-la,  I'll just— ah— right. Nevermind. Hmm—”

“Nevermind?” Raph said, voice tipping towards anger. “Let me see. Look, he's right there. With the heart rate of— 

Raph’s voice tipped back towards fear. “Donnie. He? He—”

“His tracker is there.” Donnie explained. “It's been there since they accidentally removed it last week. Quite a fortunate accident actually. Otherwise, I would have to have gotten it myself and that would not have been fun.

Despite hearing Donnie’s shudder and knowing how self centered he was being for ignoring it, he still disagreed with Donnie. If Donnie had done it, he would have warned Leo before cutting his skin. He would have known exactly where it was without prodding the incision, and he would have removed it lengthwise instead of forcing it through the cut sideways.

He also would have at least talked to Leo while putting pressure on his shoulder after.

Raph was saying something back. But Leo didn’t pay attention to his voice because his blanket was gone.

“There you are,” Mikey said, a glint in his eyes that did not match his upbeat tone, “What are you doing?”

“I'm taking a nap?” Leo answered slowly.

“Wrong!” Mikey pointed at him. “You are skipping.”

Leo focused on the sleeve hem of his hoodie. It was starting to fray.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Leo said softly. He was tired. His heart was still pounding, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d caught his breath since waking up.

“You need to.” Mikey insisted. “Was it because the MRI was too big, or not big enough? Or maybe that it was too loud. Donnie did say it could sound like metal clanging. And I thought that that could remind you of something. Or you know, somewhere and someone.”

Well, Leo had not made that connection before, but now he knew that tomorrow was going to be utterly awful. 

“No Mikey, please not now.”

“Yes now,” Mikey argued. “We can't let your fear get in the way of your healing so you need to talk with me about—”

“No,” Leo said, panting twice to get his breath back after the sharp word. “I don't.”

Mikey glared in response, matching Leo’s sharpness. “Don't you want to get better?”

Leo recoiled into the beanbag. 

“Of course I do,” he whispered. “I just—”

“Found him!”

Donnie’s shout was no doubt bringing Raph to him as well. So much for a relaxing day.

“You are so lucky that Bishop is so accommodating,” Donnie lectured. “Most people would have to wait weeks or months for another appointment after skipping out like you did. Not to mention pay a fee. The data that he is getting and sharing is invaluable for furthering our understanding of ourselves. And you want to just give that all up, for what?”

Leo was silent.

“For what, Leo?”

“For a snack,” Raph answered for Leo.

Donnie gave an aggravated sigh. “And you didn't think of popping back after you had your crackers or whatever?”

“No,” Raph said, waving Donnie off. “He had something this morning and lied about it. He then ran out when he believed that his lie would be caught.”

Leo’s breathing sped up. He didn’t lie, not on purpose. 

“What?” Donnie asked, tone sounding genuinely curious next to Mikey’s aggravated reply.

“Seriously? Self-sabotage? Leo, I am so disappointed in you.”

His vision narrowed. It wasn’t self sabotage. It was self care. He was doing the right thing.

“I thought you were growing. I thought you were trying to be more responsible,” Raph started, his palpable disappointment picking at Leo's pride. “But I guess not. Because this, this is a new low.”

“Hey,” Leo surged up, speaking so loud that the world went black, “I'm trying I—”

He was leaning against his big brother. Big safe hands, strong arms.

He was safe.

And he was embarrassed. That was not a nice way to end an argument. He knew that even without Mikey’s side eye.

“You need to actually want to get better before you will,” Mikey snapped, low and harsh.

Leo pushed away from Raph. And settled back into his beanbag. He stared at the hem of his hoodie. Maybe a hard enough glower would make it sew itself back together.

“Boys!”

“Pops.”

“What is going on?” Splinter asked, laying one hand on Leo’s head to keep him from sitting up. “I could hear shouting from my room.”

Despite not looking at him, Leo could feel Mikey's eyes on him as he spoke. “Leo chose to bail on his tests.”

“I see,” Splinter said. And although Leo cringed, Splinter’s hand remained on his head.

“Not to worry Papa, I have already rescheduled with the EPF. He's got another appointment tomorrow morning.” Donnie said, his usual flair muffled. But maybe that was just Leo’s hearing. Everything was going in and out at the moment.

“Nice initiative, Purple”

Mikey sighed deeply. 

“All right,” He said, poking his finger at, but not touching, Leo’s plastron. “If you promise to at least think about our talk, I'll make you a nice big dinner, so there will be no need for you to sneak a snack.”

“Thank you, Orange.”

“There's still a problem.,” Raph said flatly. “How are we going to keep him from bailing again?”

“I will go with him tomorrow.” Splinter said, patting Leo’s head.

“Last time I went with him, I got left behind.” Raph mumbled.

“A good point, Red,” Splintered answered lightly. “I guess, I will just need to drive the new van. Surely, you won't mind Purple?”

“What?”

“Red insisted that I will need it.”

“Are you,” Donnie started, all previous lectures forgotten, “are you just doing this to drive the new van?”

“What no, of course not,” Splinter laughed, “I would never.”

“Aggravated sigh. Fine. But I do not want a scratch on her.”

“Noted.” Splinter said, voice moving farther away. “Only moderate joy riding.”

“Dad, no”

Donnie's voice followed their father’s. And Mikey’s and Raph’s footsteps followed Donnie.

Leo pulled the blanket over his head. He knew that if he sat up and leaned forward, he could shove his hands under his legs. But that was so much work.

And he was exhausted.

Not exhausted enough to sleep. No, the pounding of his heart would not allow that. But so exhausted that he didn’t want to move a muscle.

Even blinking was too much work. So he stared at the fuzz of the blanket until his eyes burned. And only then could he get them to close.

Except closed he saw the white tile floor and light gray room and tray overflowing with needles.

Leo stared at the blanket, instead.

The only things that existed were the burn of his eyes and the throb of his hands. 

And Leo liked the fact that when he blinked, the burn at least would go away.

“Milk and cake?” Splinter voice cut through the blanket. “Purple bribed me with extra so I wouldn’t joyride in the van.”

Leo blinked.

He poked his head out of the blanket, followed shortly by his right hand. He grabbed the milk only. 

Drinking would make tomorrow easier, but he could only force himself to take a small sip from the tall glass.

Still the cool felt so good.

Leo stuck the glass between his knees and pressed the back of both hands against it.

“I was thinking Blue,” His father started softly.

“Mmm,” Leo encouraged, looking only at the ripple across the white surface of the milk.

“Maybe— after your appointment, we could do a bit of driving. There’s that comic shop, you know, the one that still has the Lou Jitsu cutout in the window. I know that it’s a bit of a drive but if you feel up to it— We could go there, pick up a thing or two? And there’s that boba place next door as well.”

Leo nodded, grateful Splinter didn’t feel the need to spell out that he was offering Leo a bribe to behave well at the appointment tomorrow. But at least the bribe did sound a lot more fun than the disappointment if he messed up again. And Leo had missed picking up the latest Atomic Lad spin off because of the whole invasion situation.

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, softly “let’s do that.”

Leo didn’t take his eyes off of the glass of milk. And Splinter patted his shoulder but didn’t otherwise demand his attention. 

Leo appreciated it. He needed all his focus on the milk, because even though it felt good on his throat, it felt even better on his hands.

But despite how heavy the glass was, he was able to get through most of it before Mikey called him for dinner.

The smell wafting from the kitchen was enough to pull Leo to his feet. Mikey had truly gone all out for dinner, garlic bread, homemade pizza, wings, salad, and miso soup.

Everything was so perfectly laid out that Leo could ignore the stilted atmosphere of the room. He could pretend that, just for right now, everything was okay. 

But two bites into the garlic bread he realized that he couldn’t pretend away the lingering soreness of his jaw.

He didn’t have the energy to power through the clicking discomfort. So despite the disappointment evident on Mikey’s face he gave up on chewing.

At least there was also the warm Miso soup and a cold glass of water. Both would help with hydration. Leo even managed to get most of the way through a second serving before his stomach decided that it would give everything back if he took one more bite. 

Leo thanked Mikey and slunk back to his bedroom. He curled up on his right side.

If all went well he would not wake up again until his appointment tomorrow.

Chapter Text

All did not go well.

And Leo found himself wide awake in an empty and dark lair. His exhaustion was completely replaced with a boredom so thick that it clung to his skin in itchy chunks.

Even after throwing off the hoodie he had been wearing all day and rubbing at his arms the itch did not go away.

He had to move.

But when he exited his room he could hear Raph snoring in the living room. And sure he could head towards the living room anyway. But the living room was between Leo’s bedroom and the kitchen. And he had no doubt how him waking up Raph would be construed. And while he had energy now, he was not up for a fight.

So instead Leo walked the other way. 

The garage was sized for the turtle tank. But since the Krang invasion there was no hope for the tank. Sure they had found the crushed and formally Krangified remains. And if Donnie had wanted he could have fixed it. But Donnie had not wanted to. He had tried, but even the memory of the slimy Krang tentacles were too much. And after two episodes of ‘tummytello’ acting up, it had been relegated to some sewer depth that only Raph knew. 

Donnie had since thrown almost all his time into his new project. Customizing an abandoned delivery van to the best of his ability.

Which, considering that it was Donnie, basically meant that the van was amazing.

At least, he assumed.

Leo hadn’t actually been in it yet, by the time it was ready to drive, Leo hadn't felt up to going out much. And when he did, he portaled.

Leo sighed and glanced around the rest of the room. He could see a drill, wrench set, crowbar, hammer and buffer scattered around the now oversized garage. It was obvious to him that Donnie had planned to work on the van tomorrow, or he was planning on fixing any damage caused by Splinter. Either way Leo felt bad about requiring the van.

If they could just walk, Donnie wouldn’t have to worry about the van being gone. 

And maybe he could. 

It had been a while since he had last tried.

Leo walked out of the garage and into the sewers.

It felt normal.

He felt normal.

He had not realized that wandering the sewers was something that he could miss until he was here, being hit with waves of nostalgia so thick that it took his breath away.

He missed sewer tag. He missed lazy river rafting. He missed filming April kayaking.

Leo stopped at a ladder.

It lead to a manhole cover, and beyond that, the city.

And it was most likely a beautiful night. New York always was this time of year.

He missed the way that a cool breeze would play with his mask tails. And the rooftop view, the stars sparkling above as the city sparkled below. 

He missed that so much.

He wanted that so bad, more than anything.

And to get it he had to feel better. He had to get better.

Leo gripped the ladder rungs.

So this was him. This was mind over matter, mind over fear.

This was him getting better.

Leo pulled himself up the first rung. Then the second.

He could do this.

The third, the fourth.

He was strong.

The fifth, the sixth.

He was going to get better.

The seventh, the eighth.

It didn’t matter how fast he was breathing

The ninth, the tenth.

The black at the edges of his vision didn’t matter.

The eleventh.

He was so close. But below him the ground seemed to have shot away.

The twelfth.

It was just darkness below him. Deep deep darkness. And Raph wasn’t here to catch him.

Leo shoved his arm down, between the rungs and the wall.

He—

He could feel the grit of dried mud dig into his cheek, as his face pressed against a cold rung.

His mouth was open and panting. 

The back of his left hand dug into the brickwork. The crook of his left elbow pressed into a rung. 

His entire left arm was forced above his body, and the rest of him dangled.

Leo teleported home.

He hugged his left arm close to his body. It throbbed with renewed vigor.

It was so stupid.

He was so stupid.

He should be getting better. 

And here he was, struggling to get air like Krang Prime’s foot was still pressing down on him.

Leo squeezed his sword’s hilt. His right hand’s grip was strong despite it throbbing in sympathy for the newly aggravated left.

Perhaps he was having such trouble because when the Krang stood on him, it collapsed his lung. It certainly felt like he couldn’t take a full breath.

And the solution to a collapsed lung was simple. He just had to puncture the ribcage and let out the oxygen or whatever other stuff had built up around his lung.

He just needed something sharp. 

Leo could feel the wraps around his katana’s hilt dig into the flesh of his palm. He could see blue light shine across the edge. Casey Jones had sharpened it while Leo healed from his injuries. He had claimed that it needed care after being dropped in rubble, But Leo could also tell that it allowed Casey to let out his nervous energy. 

Leo angled the point towards his platron. 

He would need a little more force, since unlike a human, his ribcage was solid bone, seeing as it was his shell.

Still, he could do it. 

He—

The sword skittered to the left, catching on the rough fiberglass on his shell, sending a shiver up his body.

Leo gagged.

This was going to hurt.

He was so tired of hurting.

The sword fell from his hand. Leo scooted away from it, right hand recoiling towards his chest.

It was hard for him to get to his feet. And even with the wall supporting most of his weight, it was hard for him to walk.

On exiting his room, he had a choice. Living room or garage.

It was a no brainer.

He was in no mood for an argument.

When he entered the large open area did nothing to relieve the crushing feeling in his chest.

But—

There was a crowbar, right there.

That would be easy. He could just place it against his side and push. Let gravity do the work.

Pop his shell a bit. Give him a bit of breathing room.

The crowbar was heavy in his hand. Cool, with a textured but not quite rough surface.

Leo laid on the ground, plastron down, cheek against the cold concrete of the garage.

It would be easy. He could feel it catch on a grove on his left side, just under the lip of his shell. 

He laid his left hand on the far end of the crowbar. Even that little pressure lit a line of fire on his side.

But he’d been through worse.

And fresh air was so enticing. Even if it meant that his whole side needed to become pulsing gore. 

To breathe again would...

But he was on the floor of the garage.

Donnie loved working here.

But he’d come in tomorrow and find the floor sticky and half congealed. And just like the turtle tank, the van would be one more thing that Donnie could no longer work on because of what Leo asked him to do. 

Besides, it would be easy enough to bring it back to his own room.

Just bleed and breath on his own bed.

It would be more comfortable. And with the higher vantage point he’d have more leverage to crack his shell. 

It would be good.

Leo stood, holding the crowbar in his left hand.

It would be nice piece of mind if he could get a tarp. He kept his comics under his bed and he didn’t want them to get messed up either.

Replacing them all would be annoying.

Although, speaking of comics...

If he did this tonight he wouldn’t be able to go to the comic shop tomorrow and get his new one.

He did want that comic.

And he could crack his shell open tomorrow night. He just had to not do anything tonight. 

Leo squeezed the crowbar in his hand, before placing it on the ground.

He just needed a distraction to leave it there. 

He couldn't go back into his room either. He couldn’t lay there for the rest of the night without trying.

And he couldn’t go into the living room, as that would also prevent him from getting his new comic tomorrow.

But the van was right here.

He was sure there was something in it to distract himself until morning.

Leo pulled open the passenger side door. The inside of the van was meticulously clean. But Leo knew how well Donnie liked to hide things.

The center console popped up. It had emergency lights, and emergency chargers, and emergency tablet, and emergency change. 

The glove box was similarly stocked. Emergency medical kit, with gauze, bandages, sutures, rubbing alcohol, eye drops, allergy medication, pain medication and even a space blanket. 

Beside that kit was an emergency disguise kit. It was not fully stocked, but did contain one of Donnie’s purple hoodies. 

The fabric was very soft. 

And even just sticking his arm up the sleeve to check the texture warmed him, fighting back a cold he hadn’t realized he was feeling. 

Leo slipped it on. It was very nice. The wrong color but the fabric felt so good against his tender arms.

Donnie’s shell was flatter than Leo’s so his clothes tended to be a bit tight on Leo. But this hoodie was perfect. It must have been made to accommodate Donnie’s battle shell underneath.

Hopefully Donnie wouldn’t mind too much if he wore it. If it was out here in an emergency kit, it couldn’t be one of his favorites. Still it was the perfect softness that Donnie loved. 

He could grab an Atomic Lass figure as an apology, just in case. Because if he wore this tonight, he wouldn’t have to go back to his room.

He could just sleep here, in the hoodie and with the space blanket.

Nice and warm. And maybe they'd spend so long looking for him in the morning that he'd miss his appointment. But when they found him they couldn't get mad. Because he was all ready to go. And just fell asleep waiting for them.

The one problem was that the passenger seat was uncomfortable to lean against. Which didn't make sense because one of the first things that Donnie did for the turtle tank was make sure that their chairs were set to their exact measurements.

So it didn't make sense that he'd forgo it on the new vehicle. Maybe he gave each of them assigned seats?

Leo sighed and went to push himself up. And his fingers hit a small lever on his right side. He looked down, and next to the door was a selection lever with six letters.

SARDLM

Leo moved the lever to L and laid back.

His shell was perfectly cradled. And even if the whole thing was a bit off center, having him look out the driver's side windshield instead of his own, it was still amazingly comfortable.

When he got more energy, he’d have to tease Donnie about installing it crooked.

But for now.

Leo pulled the space blanket around him and shut his eyes.

He was so comfortable.

—

“Ooo I would not take out that wall.”

Leo looked up at his father's whispered voice. On the hanging TV there was a smash cut showing dust rising and a flustered man in a hard hat.

“Mmm,” Leo agreed.

Splinter patted his arm. “If you are still sleepy, you can shut your eyes.”

Leo didn't. It had been heartbreaking to open his eyes and see that they were already halfway to the EPF clinic. It would be even worse to wake up to them stabbing his hand over and over.

No he was quite content to sit, hands on his knees, staring up letting the commercials wash over him until—

“Come along, Leonardo.”

Eugh boy, Bishop did not sound happy today. But he knew that was going to be the case. It was far better for him to just get this over with. 

Leo pushed himself up. His father’s tail on his shell made the action easier.

“And you are?” Bishop asked.

“His father,” Splinter said brushing past Bishop’s curt tone. “Donatello, should have told you I was coming.”

“Ah, right, well you can wait here.”

“I will wait with Leonardo.”

Leo had to fight back a flinch. His full name, especially in that tone, could only mean one thing.

“After all,” Splinter continued lightly. “I am here to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

Leo was in trouble.

“I do appreciate your time,” Bishop responded stiffly. “It is very important that we get this imaging done, and the delays have been, unfortunate.” 

Leo followed Bishop down the hall, Splinter’s tail curled around his wrist. If he didn’t have to walk what felt like miles of hallways, he could have at least argued, or something. But then again maybe that lack of breath kept him from putting his foot back into his mouth. 

Leo felt a tug against his wrist.

“Hold up Mr. Bishop.” Splinter complained, slowing both himself and Leo down. “My old man legs are not as fast as they used to be.”

Bishop grumbled, but slowed his pace.

Leo did as well. It was nice that he could actually listen and respond the first time that Bishop confirmed that he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink. 

It was less nice that he could catch the subtle hints of annoyance as Bishop restated all his instruction from the previous day.

But it was fine. Sure he had messed up yesterday. But today was different. Today he had a comic on the line.

He knew the room with its two chairs, table and box. He knew the look of the MRI machine through the window so that was no longer intimidating. And he knew the paper gown. So when Bishop left him and Splinter alone in the room, Leo knew what to do. 

Leo carefully removed Donnie’s hoodie first. Even though this one was softer than his prior hoodie and thus easier on his arms, he didn’t want to press his luck by aggravating his hands on the hems. 

However Splinter caught his bicep before Leo worked up the courage to remove his gloves.

“It is a bit chilly in here,” He said softly. “So you just need to remove what would be annoying to take off after having the IV placed.”

That had not been what Bishop told them to do. But Leo was in no mood to argue. Besides this way he was able to feel a little better, warmer.

Splinter’s hand pressed softly against the crook of his right elbow.

“Are you sure?” Splinter asked softly.

Leo nodded, staring straight ahead. He was being good. He was trying to get better. He could do this.

Splinter did not speak again until the door to the room opened.

“Ahh, looks like you are planning for a busy day.”

Leo looked up. It felt like there were even more needles on her tray this time. But he would not run to his room. He would get this done, he would get better.

“Please stand back.” She said, brushing past Splinter and placing the tray on the small table.

Both of Leo’s arms, and hands, were still tender. But after landing on the left last night, the thought of discomfort there made him shudder more.

So he pulled his left arm close to the thin paper gown, and pulled his right from his father’s grasp. He tried not to show his reluctance as he handed it to her.

The instructions were the same.

The elastic.

The flexing.

Although the tapping of the crook of his elbow did make his toes curl more this time.

And the pinch—

Leo stayed so still that he wasn’t breathing.

His vision narrowed.

The only things he could feel was the metal moving under his skin, and his dad’s hand on his knee.

The needle withdrew.

Splinter squeezed his knee.

“I am so sorry, my son.” He said softly as Leo started flexing his hand again. “Perhaps we can find a hot pad to—”

Leo flinched at the pinch.

He squeezed his eyes closed hard, echoing the firm grasp his father had on his knee.

He tried to stay as still as possible as the metal scraped and pulled. But he knew he hadn’t been paying attention. That he had been moving too much and this one wouldn’t be successful either.

“Did you get it?” Splinter asked, his voice low. 

If Leo hadn’t already been focusing on holding still, he would have flinched from the venom in his father’s voice.

“No,” The assistant said shapely, pulling back the needle. “And if you would stop interrupting, this would be easier.”

The elastic was gone from his arm before Leo could blink. And he could feel his father’s hand pressing against the crook of his right elbow. 

Leo appreciated the warmth and steady pressure there, but he didn’t know if he was ready for her to go at his left yet.

“Move,” she ordered.

“Get someone else,” Splinter hissed back.

“There isn't anyone else,” she snapped, “Now move. I have a job to do.”

“No.” 

“What?” Her voice harsh. 

“My son is not a pin cushion to practice on,” Splinter responded, matching her harshness with steel. “Get Bishop, and then we can talk about our plan.”

“You have a lot of presumption,” She said, unmoving.

“Very well.” Splinter said, his tail curling around Leo’s shell and helping him stand. “Let’s go home.”

Splinter’s tail moved from Leo’s shell to wrapping around Leo’s hand. 

His hand, or his father’s tail, shook as Splinter led Leo back towards the waiting room.

But their timely escape was married by Leo slowing, doubling over as his shoulders heaved in a desperate attempt to catch his breath.

“What exactly are you doing?” Bishop’s voice cut through his harsh breaths. “Leonardo needs these images.”

“I understand,” Splinter answered, stopping and allowing Leo to put a hand on his shoulder for balance. “But I also understand that it is inappropriate to continually fail to place an IV without engaging in continual check-ins for options.”

“There are no options,” Bishop stated. “This image requires contrast.”

“There are options. Pausing to warm the area could—”

“A hot pad, fine,” Bishop snapped. “We will get one just—”

“And a new practitioner,” Splinter cut in.

“That is unreasonable.”

“She was unreasonable.”

Bishop gave a harsh sigh. “She is the only qualified person currently in.”

“Well, then let us know when someone else is in and we will return.”

“Really?” Bishop snaps and Leo can feel the weight of his glare. “Leonardo, you would choose avoiding minimal and momentary discomfort over solving your health issues?”

“I-I—”

“I am his father.” Splinter cut Leo off. “I am making this decision, and we are leaving. Do not call us until you have secured another practitioner for placing the line. One that, at a minimum, communicates and reassesses between each stick. And one that does not attempt to guilt us into doing more than we are comfortable with.”

Splinter did not wait for Bishop’s response. And Leo followed him, as his vision slowly tunneled, out of the EPF clinic and back into the van. 

Splinter was silent as he helped Leo change from paper thin gown back to his hoodie. And he was silent as he helped Leo buckle himself in.

Leo screwed his eyes closed, and listened to the sounds of his slowing breathing mixed with the bustle of NYC traffic as they drove.

Leo had his breathing mostly under control when Splinter slowed to a stop and shifted the van into park.  

“We're here,” Splinter spoke softly, “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm.”

Splinter patted his cheek. “Okay, I will be right back.”

Leo heard the van turn off, and he heard the door open and close and lock.

And he was left alone with his thoughts.

Because it wasn’t fair. 

He was doing good. He could keep going. It, probably, wasn’t even his fault that they canceled today. But they did. And with that argument he didn’t know if Bishop would even take them back.

And he needed to go back.

This should all be easy for him. 

He should be able to handle this. 

But he can’t.

Not like this.

He just, can’t—

“Here you go, Blue.”

Leo heard plastic crinkle next to him after Splinter spoke. And he forced himself to pry open one eye.

There was a white plastic bag on the floor next to him. He could see the shadow of Jupiter Jim’s space suit behind the thin plastic. And he could see the thickness from other comics beneath. 

A cold drink was then placed against his hands, and when he gripped it, hand and drink were pushed towards the crook of his right elbow.

The cool felt divine on his arm. 

Leo fought to blink back hot tears.

He knew he didn’t deserve it but—

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. But even that did not stop the liquid in his eyes.

“Blue, what's wrong?”

Leo didn’t know where to start. So he curled around the drink, using the back of his left hand to press it into the crook of his right elbow.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“Oh Blue! I am so sorry. I should have been there sooner.”

His dad’s arms were warm where they squeezed his shoulders, and Leo melted into the hug.

“We never have to go back there, Blue. I swear. The way they—”

“No, I need to. I need to get better.”

Splinter tightened his hug. “You can get better without those jerks. We'll find someplace else—”

Leo pulled away.

“Please, no. I can't start over, please.”

“Blue.”

“Please,” Leo argued. He could feel the tears he was fighting slip down his face. “It's so bad. I need to— I can't deal with this.” 

Leo’s right hand clawed at his plastron. “Sometimes, most times, I just want to tear my shell open so that I can breathe.”

Leo snapped his jaw shut. He could hear Splinter swallow. It was the only thing that broke the silence in the van.

Leo looked away. He felt Splinter's hand on his cheek, brushing away tears.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Splinter's voice was calm and steady. It contrasted with the way his hand shook against Leo’s cheek.

“My son, let us make a plan.” Splinter paused to take a deep breath. “How long are you willing to wait to let your arm recover and let them find someone new?”

“A week, maybe.”

“Then within a week, we will find somebody else to do this test. How does that sound?”

Leo nodded against Splinter's hand.

“We could have Purple help us look. He enjoys this type of research and preparation.”

“Mmm”

Splinter stroked Leo’s cheek. “You will have veto power, of course”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, my son,” Splinter paused to take a deep breath and let out a soft sigh. “There is one more thing I must ask. Should we move your katana into my room?”

Leo knew the right answer, the one that would prevent his father from worrying. He also knew the truthful one. 

He couldn't bear to say either.

Leo shrugged, “It doesn't matter. I can teleport to it anyway.”

“Of course. Then let us put it in my room. That when, when you are feeling bad, you can teleport to me.”

“It's usually late...”

“Then wake me up,” Splinter insisted. “Late nights and early mornings, that is when the best commercials are on.”

Splinter squeezed his shoulder. Leo looked at his father, he could see his Dad’s smiling mask falter.

“Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Leo whispered.

“Thank you, my son.”

When they arrived back at the lair, Splinter helped Leo out of the van. Leo carefully held his iced drink, still mostly full, in one hand and the bag of comics in the other.

It was a good haul, but Leo couldn’t stop his vision from lingering on the crowbar. It was still lying exactly where he had dropped it.

Splinter followed his gaze. Leo could hear the heavy breath that he took.

It was a long and silent moment before Splinter grabbed the tool from the floor.

Leo looked away. His hand gripped plastic harder than he needed to. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’ll be in the living room.”

Splinter’s tail wrapped around Leo’s wrist and gave a short squeeze before letting go. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Rest. I’ll make sure this is put away.” Splinter gave a laugh that Leo could only tell was forced because of how close it was to his own nervous laugh. “We need to be careful about tripping hazards.”

Leo nodded and went straight to the living room. He curled onto the beanbag chair. He pushed the iced drink into the crook of his left elbow with the back of his right hand. With his left hand he held a comic. 

Each page turn was hard, as he had to place the comic down and maneuver his thumb and forefinger to accomplish it. But that didn’t matter; he wasn't reading very fast.

Still it was enough of a distraction that it kept his eyes on Atomic Lad’s speech bubble instead of his father passing by the living room. He didn’t need to know where Splinter was taking the crowbar and his sword.

He just needed to enjoy the comics, that he absolutely did not deserve, for as long as he could until the lectures started. 

And they would start. 

Leo understood that it was scary not to know what was going on. That the risk of losing a brother led to a fear that enveloped everything. 

But just because he understood, didn’t mean that he wouldn’t enjoy the time before the lectures and the yelling and the anger immensely.

Leo laid the comic down and turned the page. There were a lot of speech bubbles on this one. Exposition for the coming adventure mixed with a reminder of previous important issues. So Leo had to pay attention to it. He had to focus on one speech bubble at a time.

“There you are.” 

Leo laid his comic down at Donnie’s voice.

“And, offended gasp,” his brother continued. “Wearing one of my hoodies too. When, exactly, did you raid my wardrobe?”

Leo let himself relax into the beanbag. 

“I would never,” he lied.

Donnie snorted. “It is purple, Leo.”

“Ehh, more of a purplish blue.” Leo countered. Not bothering to suppress a grin when he glanced at his brother and his brother’s very prominent pout.

“Why I never.”

Leo laughed.

Donnie huffed.

And Leo laughed harder.

Or at least he tried to. His lungs decided that they could not keep up and cut the sound off with a cough and a gasp.

Leo knew better than to pursue that joke more.

“I got it from your emergency disguise kit,” he said softly, looking down. “I’ll wash it and return it.”

“Huh, Seriously?” Donnie blinked and poked at the sleeve. But he then followed Leo’s lead, “But, segue, Papà apparently got insulted by the EPF. Now he wants you to go somewhere else.”

“Yeah.” Leo agreed.

“And, you are cool with it?” Donnie pressed.

“Yeah. I told him I'd give him a week.”

“So, for our dear father’s honor, how do you feel about going without sedation?” Donnie asked. “There are a couple of independent MRI places that could get you in in that time, but if you want sedation, the personnel requirements pushes the timeline farther out than Papà’s week—”

“I'm fine without.” Leo stated. 

Donnie set to work immediately, sitting on a beanbag next to Leo and tapping on his phone. 

Leo had no idea why Donnie had gotten hung up on sedation, but he wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of getting the imaging done elsewhere. Hopefully, an elsewhere that could minimize how many times his hands were stabbed.

Speaking of his hands—

Leo picked up his cup with his right hand, transferred it to his left, placed it in the crook of his right elbow, and applied pressure with the back of his left hand.

The coolness on both locations made him sigh.

Donnie looked up. “Do you want something for your elbows?”

Leo shrugged, “Only if I can use it for my hands too.”

“Hands? Donnie asked, reaching towards Leo, “let me see.”

Leo obliged his brother, even if the gloves stuck to both skin and bandage making him shudder as he pulled them off.

He hadn’t looked at his hands since the failed IV placement yesterday. And since then both of them had been colored with dark purple, almost black, streaks and splotches.

Leo scrunched his beak and tried very hard not to think about how the throbbing had returned full force since the pressure of his gloves was removed.

Donnie sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“How many times did Dad let you get poked before he finally decided that his honor had had enough?”

“Just twice in the right elbow,” Leo said, pointedly tearing his gaze away from his hands. “These are from yesterday.”

“How many times?”

Leo shrugged, careful not to move his hands that were still in Donnie’s grip. “I wasn’t exactly keeping count. But I left when they ran out of needles.”

“I thought,” Donnie started, Leo could feel his leg twitching in time with his rapid words. “I mean they told us that the reason you left was because you ate. And Raph did find your pizza leftovers, but those didn’t exactly have a timestamp.”

“It was,” Leo reassured. “I hadn't checked my email and didn't realize that Bishop was asking about his instructions, not trying to suss out the reason I was late. At least not until I offered to drink some water to make placing the IV easier and got an earful from the assistant.”

Leo sighed, not pulling his hands away from Donnie. “I just figured— if the images were already messed up... Just— I swear I was going to reschedule I just—”

Donnie let go of Leo’s hands, and squeezed his forearms tightly.

“You did the right thing.” Donnie said, voice soft and shaking. “I mean it was for wrong and very concerning reasons, but I'm relieved that you didn't get it done if you had eaten.”

Leo blinked back hot pressure in his eyes. 

“Thank you,” Leo said softly. “That's one of the reasons I didn't tell him when I left. I didn't want him to insist on two sets of images and—”

“No you absolutely should not have had images done yesterday. And Bishop should not have let you.” Donnie stated firmly. “He also should have clarified why the no food and drink rule was important. Aspiration of vomit while sedated can be life-threatening. And questions important to your life should not be posed in such an easy to misinterpret way.”

“Hey, it's okay,” Leo said, twisting his arms so that he could return Donnie’s reassuring squeeze. “I wasn't getting—”

“Of course you were.” Donnie argued, pulling away. “Why else would he prevent food and water for lung imagery? Those could distort some digestive tract images, sure, but that's not what we care about.”

Donnie sighed.

“I'm really not loving the lack of attention to detail from them,” Donnie said, more to himself than to Leo as he focused on his phone. “It makes me worried that they have also not been as attentive in the other aspects of your treatment.”

Leo watched as Donnie sorted through his emails. He saw the EPF’s domain in the from line and looked away. He’d gotten a guilt free week reprieve from them, he didn’t want to spend that time thinking about them. Instead he had comics he could read.

Leo pulled the hem of his borrowed hoodie over the back of his hands. It was smoother than yesterday’s hoodie, so it didn’t aggravate his hands as much. And bunching fabric in his palm helped put a good pressure on them. He pushed the back of his left hand against the drink still in the crook of his right elbow.

He reached for his comic with his right hand. 

It was harder to manipulate while also holding the fabric but he didn’t want to let go. 

He had almost gotten it up when he saw Donnie from the corner of his eye.

Donnie was pale, squeezing his phone too hard and barely breathing.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked.

Donnie turned towards him slowly, not putting his phone down.

“You said you weren't getting sedation? Right?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever?” Donnie pressed.

“No?”

“And what about pain management?” Donnie asked, his words rushing out. “How were you feeling? Lightheaded, dizzy, tired?”

“Like from the pain management?” Leo clarified, placing the comic back flat on his plastron. “I mean, I guess I slept after I took two of those painkillers that we keep in the bathroom medicine cabinet.”

“No, how were you feeling from what they gave you?”

“I don't—”

“Like when they did your shell repair, how did you feel?”

“Bad.”

“Bad how?”

Leo figited. He placed both his drink and his comic on the ground so that he could fully face Donnie.

“I know there are no pain receptors in my shell. But, I don't know, I swear when they moved that piece,” Leo jerked, gesturing towards the left side of his plastron and carapace. “It was like everything shattered to white. And after he put the fiberglass on it– it burned. I— I couldn't focus on anything else...”

Donnie's hand touched his shoulder, gently covering where his tracker had once been. He looked even paler than he had before.

“Leo,” he said, voice shaking and nothing more than a whisper.

Donnie’s subsequent hug was hard and shaking. Donnie’s hands, balled into fists, danced across Leo’s skin.

“What?”

Donnie pulled back, still shaking. When he spoke his voice had a frantic edge.

“Fun fact. Did you know that the dosing guidelines often use weight as a shorthand, but different types of tissue have different drug uptake rates?”

“Were they under-dosing me?” Leo asked.

“No.” Donnie said firmly. “If you say they didn't give you anything, then they didn't. And in the long run that may be a good thing.”

“Why?”

“Because bone is heavy but doesn’t uptake as much medication as muscle or fat does. And your shell, that’s a lot of bone that most humans don’t have. The dosages they were claiming, if you were human you would probably be fine. But you’re not. If they actually gave you what they told me that they did— If I didn't check and sent it on to another place— That would be an overdose, and Leo, that could kill you.”

Leo reached out and held Donnie’s shoulders. “It's okay. I’m okay. Nothing happened. It was probably just someone not involved making poor assumptions since I hadn’t actually—”

“That's the other problem,” Donnie replied sharply, his hands gripping Leo’s wrist. “You should have.”

“Yeah, but our shells are different. No pain—”

“That is a myth,” Donnie argued voice shaking. “Sure you have a bit of an advantage against feeling minor dings. But this, this isn’t minor. And even if it wasn’t a myth, you still felt it. You just told me you felt it. Therefore pain.”

Donnie pulled Leo close to him. Enveloping him in a hug.

“Therefore, it should have been managed.”

Leo sighed. As much as he loved his brother hugging him. Donnie was so upset, and he hated that. “They didn't give any to you or Raph or Mikey when we first went...”

Donnie didn’t loosen his hold. “That was in the direct aftermath of the invasion. We were all hyped up on adrenaline, and I discounted it because I assumed it was just because of the emergency situation. But now I'm not so sure... Sweet Dr. Morton, Leo I—”

“Donnie, it's okay.”

“No, it's not. You should have never had to go through that. Never.”

Leo’s breath stuttered. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“And I’m sorry. I should have collected data on your experiences. I could have fixed it.”

Donnie tightened his hold on Leo.

“I can fix it. I can.”

Donnie pulled back and Leo could feel his calculating look.

“Tell me, how do you feel about an exotic vet?”

Leo looked at Donnie, “Like in general or...”

“Going to one. I bet I can get us an appointment sooner rather than later, and they have training on a wide range of animals. They'd probably be the best bet to figure out how to deal with our unique anatomy.”

“Maybe, I just—” Leo pressed his hand to his throat. “Donnie. I can’t handle starting over.”

“Not to worry,” Donnie answered firmly. “I have all of the data that the EPF gathered. They won't be starting from scratch and a new pair of eyes could help.”

“Okay,” Leo breathed.

“Okay,” Donnie confirmed.

Leo laid back into his beanbag chair. Donnie sat next to him, so close that Leo easily leaned against his side. Leo could feel the small movements of Donnie’s hand and arm as he worked. 

The rise and fall under his head was nice. The fact that Donnie was content and didn’t try to dislodge him was even nicer.

Leo slid both of his hands under his legs. 

He wasn’t exactly tired. But he didn’t have the will to move to pick up either his comic or his drink. 

“What about them?” Donnie asked, tilting his phone towards Leo, “Great reviews, in house ultrasound and x-ray. And Dr. Longer volunteers treating wild sea turtles, so, you know, experience with big turtles.

“No turtle on the logo,” Leo joked softly. “But if you think that they are a good fit then...”

Donnie nodded and brought the phone to his ear. He had his other hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“Yes, hello, I'm wondering if I can get an appointment?”

Leo closed his eyes, relaxing more of his weight against Donnie’s side.

“ Red eared slider, Trachemys scripta elegans .”

Leo felt Donnie still as he considered the question asked of him.

“Breathing issues. He had a shell injury like two-ish months ago. He got it during the invasion. It seems to be healing well, but he's been struggling since.”

Leo could feel Donnie’s hand count it’s way up his shell.

“About two and a half feet.”

Donnie paused, Leo pulled out his right hand.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

Leo poked Donnie and then gestured to himself and ‘this whole situation’.

“Ohh right, I may have missed a step.” Donnie said lightly. “You know that whole mutation business.”

Leo shoved his hand back under his leg. He felt Donnie laugh.

“Ohh I remember that magpie. Anyway, yes, half turtle half human.”

It felt weird to be talked about like he wasn’t sitting next to Donnie. But not in a bad way. It was like a load was taken off of his shoulders and all he had to do was wait while someone else carried it.

“I know, we have been. But they don't know anything about reptiles, much less turtles,” Donnie argued.

And that argument felt like Leo was wrapped in a warm blanket. One that matched the warmth pooling under his eyes.

“Yeah, I can wait.”

Donnie sighed. He tapped fingers against Leo's arm. 

Leo felt his pools overflow and trickle down the side of his head. 

“Are you ok?” Donnie asked.

“Yeah,” Leo whispered, ignoring the hitch in his voice.

“You sure? You’re...”

“Just relieved, I think.” Leo said. His voice wobbled and his breath hitched.

“Ok,” Donnie said, holding Leo closely.

“Yes I'm here.”

Leo felt every muscle in his body tense.

“Thank you, yes, anytime.”

Leo felt every muscle relax.

“Day after tomorrow at 10:00, perfect, thank you.”

Leo curled onto his right side. He brought his freed left hand up to cover his face. There was no stopping the tears now. 

“Oh, Do you have an email? I've got all the tests that we already did.”

He tried his best to hold in the sobs at least.

“Got it. I’ll send the intake forms and imaging shortly. Thank you again.”

He only managed to hold them back until Donnie hung up the phone.

Donnie didn’t comment on his breakdown. He merely shifted closer to Leo, wrapping his arms around him as he typed on his phone.

Chapter Text

Leo sat on a high table. He was twisting his hands, the sting from his bruises did little to dissuade him since the movement and grip helped keep him focused. It also calmed his pounding heart.

But at least the walk to this exam room wasn’t as far.

And there was more decoration than the flat gray and white walls of the EPF.

Although the posters weren’t the most comforting, he guessed the usual patients couldn’t understand them.

The risks of shell rot, bone deformities from incorrect or lacking basking lights, damages caused from turtles falling.

Actually, he’d have to see if he could get a copy of that one. He could gift it to Draxum.

Splinter tapped Leo’s wrist with his tail. Leo looked at him and Splinter tapped again and laid his tail over Leo’s hands. 

Leo pried his hands apart. He squeezed Splinter's tail instead. 

He did keep his eyes on his Dad, to make sure it wasn’t too much. But Splinter didn’t so much as flinch when Leo let his anxiety out through his hands. 

An anxiety that built until there was a knock on the inner door of the exam room. A second later the door opened.

“Hello,” A man wearing iguana print scrubs and a stethoscope said, looking at him. “Leonardo, right?”

“Yeah,” He answered softly, “Leo is fine.”

The man nodded and turned towards Splinter. “And you must be—”

“His father, Yoshi.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Longer,” The man smiled and turned back towards Leo. “Hey Leo, I want to be up front since I'm not used to working with patients that can talk back.”

Leo nodded. He was used to being quiet during Bishop's exams and treatments, he could do this.

“I'm going to try my best to check in on you,” Dr. Longer continued, “but please speak up if I fall into old habits.”

Leo blinked. Splinter touched his knee.

“Ok,” Leo whispered.

Dr. Longer smiled. “So, a shell injury with trouble breathing, is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see?” he asked.

Leo carefully pulled off his hoodie. His stomach fell in time with Dr. Longer's face.

The doctor pulled on blue gloves. He approached Leo but hesitated arm outstretched.

“May I?” he asked.

Leo nodded.

His fingers grazed over the fiberglass patch on Leo's back. It wasn’t the worst thing that Leo had felt in the past week but it still it was like fire footed ants marched out from the spot the doctor touched.

Leo tried his best to suppress a shudder. But Dr. Longer's touch pulled back.

“Sorry, sorry.” Dr. Longer said, pausing slightly before asking, “How did it feel?”

“Weird,” Leo said shrugging, “like I became aware of it and — I don't know, sorry.”

“It’s fine. And honestly that’s more information than I'm used to getting.” He sighed before continuing. “I know it's not why you're here, but at some point we should have a conversation about removing the fiberglass.” 

Leo shook his  head. He’d already had the repair changed once and he did not want to do that again. Besides he knew that his breathing was off before the fiberglass anyway so that wasn’t the issue.

“Okay, we don’t have to do it now.” He pulled his stethoscope on. “This may be cold, but I just want you to breathe.”

Leo followed his instructions. The cool felt good, and he was glad that it was never placed on the fiberglass.

“Can you take a deeper breath?”

Leo shook his head.

“That's okay,” the doctor said.

He continued listening to Leo’s breathing. Between the cool pressure of the stethoscope end and the steady breaths, it was relaxing. 

At least until he pulled away there was no pain or disappointment.

“I'm not hearing any rattling or wheezing so that's good,” He said, continuing on before Leo’s heart had time to fully drop. “But I am concerned about the shallow breathing.”

He stepped back and looked at both Leo and Splinter. “If you don't mind, I want to use the ultrasound to check for other potential blockages. I’m thinking that there could, perhaps, be a collapsed lung? The organ itself could already be healed, but fluid or air could still present, limiting breathing.

Leo looked towards his dad.

“Will it hurt?” Splinter asked.

“No. The gel may be cold but it won’t be painful.”

“Promise?” Leo asked softly.

“Promise.” Dr. Longer said.

Leo nodded.

“Okay, great. I’ll get it if you want to lie down.” Dr. Longer instructed as he left the exam room.

Leo watched him leave. He stared at the ceiling and slowly leaned back. He barely breathed as his shell touched the hard surface of the exam table. Without the doctor here, Leo didn’t bother to hide his wince. He also didn’t bother to stay on his back, opting to shift to his right side.

“Blue?”

“Bad pressure,” He answered around his quick breathing. “I'll move back when—”

“Not if it hurts.” Splinter said firmly.

“I can deal.”

Splinter cupped Leo’s head in his hands. “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean that I want you to.”

Splinter climbed onto the exam table and sat behind Leo. “I can support you.”

Leo lowered himself. His muscles were taut as a guitar string, and vibrated like one too. Splinter’s legs supported his shell, and his hands cradled Leo’s head.

Leo closed his eyes and focused on slowing his breathing. 

“Are you alright, my son?”

“Fine.”

Leo knew the response was short. But he needed all his energy to relax. He didn’t want the doctor to also—

The door creaked open.

“Is everything all right?” The doctor asked.

“There is too much pressure for him to lie fully back.” His father answered for him.

“Could he lie on his back before the injury? Or is it new with the shell?”

“He could do it before the injury.”

“Do you want to sit up?” the doctor asked.

Leo breathed, trying to force the muscles in his shoulders to loosen.

Splinter tapped his head.

“I'm okay,” Leo whispered. “I just want it done.”

Dr. Longer nodded. He pulled out a bottle with a white label and something blue inside. 

“This might be cold.” He said, waiting a moment before squirting out a glob of gel on the center of Leo’s plastron.

The coolness of it was not a problem for Leo. The problem arose from the fact that it didn’t stay in the center of his platron.

He could feel it slowly slide left, inching like a slug and leaving a path of slime in its wake. He could deal with that it it weren’t slowly and inextricably moving towards the fiberglass on his plastron. 

The last thing that he wanted was the probe pushing down there.

“You will want to stay level, my son,” Splinter said, gently bracing Leo. 

Leo pushed past the brace and raised himself slightly with his left arm.

“It's running,” He complained.

“Hmm, so it is,” Dr. Longer agreed. “If you are comfortable like this we can continue.”

Leo nodded, and tensed as the probe pressed against his plastron. There was some pressure as he held it, but nothing that Leo would call pain. Not even as it moved.

“Breathe the deepest that you comfortably can.”

The probe started in the center of his chest. It went right first, pausing as Dr. Longer hummed and Leo breathed.

Then it went to his left, and Leo could feel his breathing quicken despite his best efforts to keep it level. He could feel his arm tense as well.

“Do you mind if I go over the patch?”

Leo shook his head, his vision narrowing too much to do more.

The pressure from the probe disappeared. A cloth rubbed gently across his plastron taking the coolness of the gel as well.

“You can sit up if you want.”

Splinter applied pressure to Leo’s biceps, and Leo wordlessly accepted the help. He sat, leaning forward, one arm guarding his plastron while the other braced against his knee.

“Did you see anything?” Splinter asked.

Leo was not looking at the doctor. But he could tell from the way that Splinter sighed that he had shaken his head.

“However,” Dr. Longer said, “the gel did give me an idea that I’d like to check out. I’ll need to touch your shell but I’ll avoid the patch.”

Leo nodded.

“Okay, when you are ready, can you please raise your arms for me.”

Leo pushed himself to sit straight up. He raised both arms, and tried not to think too much about how this was so much harder than it should have been.

Dr. Longer stood to Leo’s right. He pressed his fingers between his carapace and plastron, and then used his hands to note the angle between the two.

He then moved to Leo’s left and repeated the procedure. The fingers did not press as hard on his left side, but that didn’t keep Leo from letting out a whine.

“Sorry, I’m done.” the doctor said.

Leo lowered his arms and curled forward.

“You’ve had x-rays taken, right?”

Leo nodded, but Dr. Longer had already turned away and activated a screen in the corner of the exam room.

Dr. Longer started with the most recent image and went backwards. As he flipped through them, Leo saw the reappearance of bright metal shrapnel. And once Dr. Longer hit the oldest images Leo saw the bright white spider web of wires and the hooks that had originally held his broken shell in place.

Dr. Longer paused. “So you had wires, before the fiberglass. Why did you change?”

“Bishop recommended,” Leo said quietly. “He thought it might be causing the breathing issues.”

“And did their removal make it any better?”

“No.” Leo refused to meet the doctor’s eyes.

“Who did the hooks and wires?”

“We did.” Sprinter said.

Leo saw Dr. Longer's attention go towards his father. He saw a layer of disappointment painted on it.

“It was my idea.” Leo admitted, turning his focus from Dr. Longer to his own knees. “I’d read some stuff about it and — I —”

“You made a good call. It looks like it was keeping everything well aligned.”

“Then why?” Splinter asked.

“I don’t know. Fiberglass is an older method but it’s not really recommended anymore. It can stunt shell growth, delay healing, burn tissue, and trap infection,” Dr. Longer paused. “I'm sorry, I know you didn't want to worry about this right now.”

He turned back towards the screen and explained. “I was checking to see if you had a craniocaudal projection taken. It's commonly used for visualizing lungs and it could confirm a hunch of mine.”

“These are the only ones I’ve gotten.” Leo said softly.

“That’s okay. If you are feeling up to it, we could get one now.”

Leo looked at Splinter.

“You don't have to lay down for it,” Dr. Longer clarified. “The head of my machine moves. You'll just need to hold your arms out.”

The worst part about x-rays was lying still on his shell, so if Leo could sit, it would be worth it.

Leo nodded, and followed the doctor to an x-ray room painted teal and white. It was empty except for a big white arm with a blocky camera on it. At least until Dr. Longer held a button on the wall and an exam table raised to chair height.

Leo sat on the rectangular plate as instructed, and held his arms in the position that Dr. Longer moved them to. 

It was boring but easy. Everyone was going to be so proud of Leo today. Even if sitting with his arms squished above his head felt like a bare minimum.

Not that he has to sit that way for long. As Dr. Longer collected the images with practiced effecency so that he could lead them back to the exam room before Leo could start feeling discomfort at the imaging.

Leo waited in the exam room with his father, hoodie a puddle of fabric in his lap. Between his father’s warm fur and the ambient temperature of the room, Leo was not cold without it.

Besides, he could easily squeeze it without worrying about hurting his father. He could feel the fabric give under his nails as he pulled. But his dad didn’t admonish him, so he didn’t stop.

Because what if Dr. Longer found what he was concerned about.

What if he didn’t.

What if this whole excursion was for naught. And Leo had to get his hand stabbed again on monday. 

What if they never found anything. And everyone left him as they assumed that he was just making this up.

What if he was just making this up? Giving into fear to get special treatment?

They’d be right to blame him. To leave him—

There was a knock on the exam door before it opened.

“I’ve got your x-rays,” Dr. Longer said as he pulled them up onto the screen.

Leo could see the top of his skull and the bones of his arms that crossed over it. He wondered if he could give that to Piel, inspire him on a new flag.

Dr. Longer pointed at the side of the screen. “See that bone.”

Leo nodded. “It looks like part of my shell.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Longer said. “There are three main sections to a turtle shell, carapace the top, or um back for you, plastron the bottom or front and that section of bone there, that is the bridge which keeps the other two appropriately separated.”

Leo looked closely at the section Dr. Longer was pointing at. He could see the clean white line of his right bridge. And on the other side of the x-ray he could see the left bridge. Although, that line was not nearly as clean.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said softly. “I did try not to move.”

“No,” Dr. Longer said looking at the left bridge, “you did fine.”

“Then why is it so different?”

“My best guess would be the trauma in that area. You see how it is both shorter and wider than the right side?” Dr. Longer asked. 

Leo nodded.

“I think your bridge collapsed,” He continued, holding both hands edge to edge, before allowing them to slip so that the right was in front of the left. “I think it broke and displaced, sliding against itself before coming to rest against your carapace.”

Leo shuttered.

“Can I take a look? I want to confirm what I am expecting.”

Leo nodded, but looked away from the area.

He heard a pen light click. He felt the warmth, but not pressure, from the doctor’s hand.

There was a shift in position, and his father’s soft footsteps.

“Do you see that area of red inflammation, and the shadow right along the edge of his shell?”

“I do.” Splinter said.

“I am so sorry,” Dr. Longer said sadly. “this has got to be painful.”

Leo shrugged and he could feel the doctor wince. 

“Do you think it’s related to my breathing issues?” he asked.

“I would assume so. You've lost space in your shell. So there is much less area for your lungs to expand into.”

Leo looked at him. “Can you do something about it?”

“The bone has already started healing, fusing into the new location.”

Leo blinked hard, he did his best to keep the grimace off of his face.

“We would have to do surgery to re-break the bridge and reset it. It would not be a fun healing process. Leaving it would not necessarily be fatal, but there would be an increased infection risk that would need management.”

“Please,” Leo pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut against tears that he thought he had already exhausted over the last few days. “I can’t leave it. I just want— need my life back, please.”

He could feel his father’s hand rubbing his shell.

“Can you fix it?” Splinter asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Longer answered. “I will need some time to plan the approach, get materials, and make sure we have enough pain medication and sedatives stocked.”

“Donnie says my shell weight messes with calculations—” Leo whispered, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Donnie is right, but don't worry I have worked with turtles before. And we'll take it slow. You won't feel a thing during the procedure.” Dr. Longer sighed. “However you will have to be very mindful during your recovery not to put too much stress on your bridge. The supports are much harder to place on a bridge than your plastron or carapace.”

“If you need to replace the fiberglass, do it.” Leo said.

“We may not need to, but the surgery would be a convenient time to get it replaced. We could check the area for infection and make sure that your entire left side is well supported.”

“Back to hook and wire?” Leo asked. He’d need to remember to bug Donnie about opening up a bit more room on the left side of the van seat to prevent him from leaning on the hooks.

“Once we get through the fiberglass we will see what we are dealing with. But my thought is to go with metal bridges with a less permanent bond. Those will let us monitor for infection and although we may have to reapply in a couple of months, that should allow us to adjust for growth until your shell has healed enough not to need them.”

As Splinter pressed the doctor for more information on healing time and wound management. Leo felt the tension slowly drain out of him.

Although it sounded like it was going to be a lot of work and monitoring.

Leo did not worry.

He was doing the right thing.

Leo did worry

Was he doing the right thing?

Leo could feel his breathing speeding up. He could feel his heart pounding against what could very well be his literal shell. He knew he was dealing with less room in his chest now, so it was harder to tell what was metaphorical and what was literal.

Curved plastic with soft edges was forced into his hands.

Despite still holding the mask, Donnie was not looking at him. He had his ears turned towards Mikey’s and Raph’s conversation, and his eyes fixed on his tech gauntlet.

Leo wanted to be stubborn. He hated the feeling of his brothers knowing his health better than he did. 

But at least Donnie hadn’t drawn attention to it. And it was likely that he knew from an alert from the modified smart watch that he had given to Leo and not intrinsic knowledge.

And besides the darkness at the edges of his vision did provide an amazing incentive to not be stubborn. 

“Hey buddy.” Raph said slowly hand reaching out but not touching Leo, “How are you feeling?”

Leo bit back a groan. Donnie may not have said anything but the supplemental oxygen mask stood out to everyone. And as much as he loved Donnie for the gift to make waiting on his surgery easier, he couldn’t wait until he could hide how he was feeling again.

He hated having the full force of Mikey’s and Raph’s worried gaze on his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Leo said, but continued when the fear remained firmly fixed on Raph’s face. “I just saw a preview for the next Jupiter Jim movie. They weren’t kidding about the effects being breathtaking.”

Leo laughed behind the mask. Mirth obscuring his own worry like the condensation building up on the mask.

But Raph’s fear was not replaced with mirth.

“Leo, this is serious.”

Leo flinched. Right, it was only because of his lack of energy that he was getting better at remembering that it wasn’t about him. Now that he had his energy back he was back to causing the same problems.

He just couldn’t learn.

“I’m sorry I—”

But Mikey and Donnie had already stepped in. 

Donnie shoved his gauntlet in Raph’s face and pulled him from the room, and Mikey, arms over Leo’s shell carefully avoiding his patch, led Leo away.

Leo followed Mikey to Mikey’s room.

“What was that about?” Mikey asked, sliding the door to his train car room closed.

Mikey sat on his hammock and Leo focused on his nails. 

“Well?” Mikey pushed, and Leo shrugged.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry then tell me what’s going on.”

Leo pressed the mask to his face and looked away. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Mikey let out a huge sigh.

Leo could see the glint in Mikey’s eye from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t know if it was for Dr. Delicate Touch or puppy dog eyes. But it didn’t matter, either would be hard to resist.

Leo squeezed his eyes closed, and rubbed his thumb nail with his finger.

He wanted to give the world to Mikey, but he couldn’t. 

He didn’t know what was going on, much less how to articulate it. So all he would do would be to disappoint his brother. And that was harder.

It was much better to deflect and distract and—

No.

It wasn’t about him.

He had to—

Leo sucked in a breath. Deep enough he could feel the pressure in his bridge.

But he couldn’t think—

He couldn’t figure this out he—

“No, I’m sorry.”

Leo twisted sharply to look at Mikey, sitting and holding his hands to his chest.

“I’ve not been fair to you,” Mikey continued softly. “I’m here if you want to talk, but I’m not going to force you.”

“It’s fine, you’re fine.” Leo said quickly, holding out his arms.

Mikey accepted the invitation, worming his way into Leo’s hold. He clung to Leo and Leo returned the favor.

“Do you want to hang out with me? Just for a bit.” Mikey asked into Leo’s plastron. “I’ve got some linework I’d love to see colored.”

Leo could feel himself walking into a trap. But his brother was asking him, shaking in his arms, who was he to say no.

“Sure.”

Mikey beamed at him. He gave one last squeeze and then scrambled through the room, grabbing papers, colored pens, and pencils. All of which he offered to Leo.

Leo selected the paper with sharp shapes connected by thick jagged linework and four glitter pens in dark pink, sky blue, pastel purple, and bright orange. They were part of a larger set that Mikey had gotten for his birthday a few years back. He remembered Mikey raving about how smooth they were, and Leo hoped that that was still true.

Leo started with the blue. The ink went down smoother than he had hoped, leaving in its wake a perfectly raised line of color. 

Leo watched as the glitter in that line floated to the surface, making it look more silver than blue. Then as it dried the blue ink reasserted its dominance coloring the glitter from the edges in leaving behind a perfect blue sparkling line.

Leo colored the rest of the shape using slow lines. He watched as the lines popped together, creating a perfectly shaped bubble of drying ink.

Leo snapped on the cap of the blue pen and popped off the cap of the purple one.

He carefully followed the outline of a shape neighboring the blue one. 

Against his side he could feel Mikey, the subtle arm motion where his bicep pressed against Leo’s own.

He could also hear the scrape of Mikey pen as he worked.

Leo snapped the cap back on the purple pen and got the orange.

He knew he had an obvious reason to be afraid. There were plenty of warning flags, waving in the wind too big for even Donnie to miss. Surgery was dangerous. Healing from it was going to be painful. And it was an unknown since he had never had a surgery before.

Leo capped the orange and grabbed the pink.

Still if he had had a surgery, instead of Bishop's brute manipulation of his shell, that would have been a relief.

Besides, dangerous and painful, that was just the state of their life. And when staring down the barrel of the prison dimension, the single most painful and dangerous thing he had ever faced, he was not as afraid as he was now.

Leo switched from pink to blue.

Maybe it was the fact he had off ramps before enacting his plan. He could have portaled to the ground with his brothers and come up with a new plan, if he had wanted to.

Maybe it was the fact that everything was happening so fast. There was no time to be scared, just time to take action.

Leo capped the blue and grabbed the purple.

“Looking good.”

Leo looked over to see Mikey appraising his work. There were only five colored sections, but still, Leo couldn’t keep the grin off of his face.

“Greatest page colorer of today.” Leo joked.

“Greatest page colorer of all time,” Mikey amended with earnesty.

Leo uncapped the purple, careful not to say anything that would break the moment.

This was everything he ever wanted. Just being with his awesome brothers, as they did their amazing work. The complement didn’t hurt. But knowing that they were safe and happy. That gave him the bravery to face down a thousand Krang. 

It’s why he wasn’t scared alone on the technodrome. 

It’s why he was terrified the moment before. 

With shaking hands Leo changed from purple to orange.

When Mikey and Donnie were blown off the technodrome—

Everything stopped. 

Nothing mattered except their safety.

Nothing existed except Raph, his portals, and the thick miasma of fear.

Leo switched from orange to pink.

Still, that didn’t explain why he was afraid now. 

It wasn't like his surgery was going to hurt them.

—

That was something he should unpack.

Later.

Once he can breathe.

If he can breathe.

Leo dropped the pink pen and grabbed the mask.

He could read his brother’s desire to say something written all over his face. But Mikey didn’t. He just rubbed Leo’s shell.

It felt so nice. No expectations, no questions, just support.

Leo leaned his weight into Mikey.

It was so nice.

It was too nice.

The only reason Mikey was pushing back his needs and giving Leo the quiet attention that he craved was because Leo grabbed the mask.

He made a scene. 

Played up his injury in a way his brothers had to come to and comfort him.

It wasn’t fair.

He was being selfish.

He knew he was being selfish, and yet it was still so excruciatingly hard to pull away.

He pulled away anyway. He couldn’t risk losing them forever over a momentary weakness. 

But Mikey clung to him. And the hard movement became impossible. He couldn’t bear to keep pulling as Mikey curled against him.

A knock at the door broke the moment.

“Everything okay in there?” Raph said, his voice small.

“Yeah,” Mikey said, voice light as he picked his pen back up, “We’re just drawing.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, Raph, we are.”

Footsteps moved away from Mikey’s door. Mikey nudged Leo’s shoulder. Leo set down the mask, capped the red pen and grabbed the blue.

“You know, he’s just worried.” Leo said softly.

“I know.” Mikey said, giving Leo a playful wink. “I'm just asserting my younger brother independence.”

Mikey put his hand on Leo’s arm. “Besides, it's not fair to us to just sit and take that worry. You know, if you hadn't stood up for me, I bet I’d still be waiting to do a solo mission.”

Leo pulled his arm free and threw it around Mikey’s shoulders. “It's not that he doesn't trust you. We all know you’re amazing. It’s just worry that builds up and spills over.”

“Still, it’s not fair to take it out on us.”

Leo shrugged and made a sound that he hoped landed between full agreement and simple acknowledgement. 

Mikey ducked under Leo’s arm, and scooted so that he was looking directly at Leo.

“You know what else isn't fair?” He asked.

Leo swallowed. He focused on the partially colored page in front of him and not his brother’s face. “What?”

“Some of the things I said to you.”

“I already told you that you’re fine,” Leo said. “I understand.”

“It's not fine.” Mikey said firmly. “Donnie told us, at least in broad strokes, what the EPF were doing. You were trying so hard and for me to suggest that you just didn't want to get better. That was unkind and unfair.”

Leo clicked the cap of the blue pen off and on.

“But what if you were right?” Leo asked.

“Leo.”

Leo clicked the cap under his thumb, not looking up at Mikey. “Because why else would I be so scared right now? I've dealt with pain and failed procedures. This isn't any different except Dr. Longer is so much nicer than Bishop.”

Mikey grabbed his hand and squeezed. Leo did not look at him, but drew strength from the contact.

“What if this doesn't solve anything?” Leo asked, more to himself than to Mikey. “What if I finish healing, and everything goes well, and I still can't breathe.”

Mikey, hugged Leo’s hand to his chest.

“Would that mean that it's my fault? Like, I know that after everything that happened, and everything else that almost happened.” Leo paused the thought of Casey’s warning about all of his brothers dying echoing in his head. “I can't bear to lose you, but it's not fair for me to cling by making you all worry.”

“Leo, whether it's caused by this,” Mikey pressed his hand to Leo’s forehead before moving it to just above his left bridge, “or this, or something we don't know yet, that doesn't matter. I want to support you. I will support you, no matter how long it takes.”

Leo leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of Mikey’s neck. He didn’t know when exactly he started crying, but he knew that he wasn’t going to convince his eyes to dry.

“You never give up on us, Leo. And I am not going to give up on you.”

Mikey engulfed Leo in a hug, his arms placed carefully around the cracks on the left side of Leo’s shell.

“If you ever doubt that... if I ever say something that makes you, call me out then and there.”

Mikey said firmly. But Leo could feel him freeze. He could feel the determination drip away.

“Except, you're not going to do that, are you?”

“Sorry,” Leo mumbled into Mikey's neck.

“It’s fine,” Mikey said. “Do you think you could say something along the lines of ‘you may or may not be correct, but I am currently overwhelmed and need a break from this line of questioning and or action’?”

“Bit of a mouthful,” Leo said with a wet laugh.

“I mean, if it means you'll say something and won't feel bad, it's worth it. But I suppose we could condense it into a super secret code word.”

“Like what?”

Mikey shugged. Leo let his head rise and fall with the motion.

“What about glitter pens?” Leo asked, the capped blue pen still in his hand.

“I guess, as long as you are mindful when at the store or making a shopping list.”

“Then I would be asking for gel pens with glitter or glue pens with glitter,” Leo gestured to the room with the end of the pen, “glitter pens would just be this.”

“Glitter pens it is,” Mikey said softly, pushing himself against Leo. “And thank you, for telling me.”

Leo relaxed into Mikey. 

“No, thank you.”

Dappled light filtered through trees. They were small, well cared for but still struggling against the small cut in the sidewalk that they were allowed. 

They seemed to run by, but Leo knew that it was from the movement of the van that his dad was driving. The sounds of wheels on pavement mixed with the buzz of traffic, muffled but not muted by Donnie’s excellent work with soundproofing, and the bumps he could feel through the seat as the van traveled over potholed and plates combined to prove to Leo that he was, for better or worse, being inextricably driven towards his fate.

The parking lot at the vet had trees too, just like the drive. The mulch was kicked out from the base of them revealing the rich dark solid underneath. Maybe a bird did it, looking for worms, or maybe a kid did, waiting and bored, but either way someone should fix it.

He could fix it but... A tail on his wrist.

The early morning sun cut a sharp line through the lobby. One side bright, the other dark. Both sides were too intense for him to properly see through. He, however, did like the way the light and shadows played across his hand.

The exam room was not the same one he had been in before. There were different posters on the wall. And although Leo’s eyes fixed on them, his focus was on the warmth of his father’s hand on his knee, not the words that were written.

“Can I have your hand?”

Leo followed the instructions that he was given.

“There will be a pinch.”

That was a worry he had not realized that he had. He didn’t want to force them to delay this. He wanted it done and over with. 

He felt something pressed to his hand, sticking even when pressure was removed. Leo offered his other hand. He did not want to upset them, not right before—

His other hand was patted.

“I only need to place one.”

Leo leaned in the warmth of his father’s hug.

Leo carefully followed someone in scrubs with teal swirls and light blue turtles.

He laid down on foam bedding that cradled his shell. Next to him was more foam that was cut, the inverse of the shapes of his plastron.

Cold spread into his hand. Leo tensed, his breathing sped up.

“Easy, it's okay.”

A mask was placed on his face.

“Breathe and relax.”

Leo did breath, as deep as he could. The cold numbing feeling floated up his arm. It was interesting, like a line slowly unrolling towards his shoulder.

His eyes were so heavy.

They closed.

Fingers pressed to where his jaw met his neck.

There was probably a joke

Something he could say

Somewhere

Later

He 

was 

so

-

–

—

The back of his neck was warm. It was not unpleasant, just noticeable.

It reached around his neck and up his jaw, flooding his face with a warm itch that concentrated under residue that clung to the scales of his cheeks and eyelids.

That same itch and residue was in his hand as well. But there was also something else there. Something warm and tacky dripping down his hand, between his fingers.

He didn’t like that feeling.

He didn’t like it at all.

He wanted it gone.

He whined and twisted his fingers—

Be quiet.

Rude.

His whole body was floating. He did always love space, so that should have been cool. 

But

It wasn't

Because

You almost ruined everything

That

But now you won't escape again

Something large and sharp pressed against his arm.

Nope. 

No

No No.

Glitter pens.

He was not sure if his mouth was working. So Leo flailed his arms and tried again.

I want glitter pens.

Juvenile pest

Right. That wasn't Mikey. Mikey would be made up of orange and green blobs. But these blobs were jet black and pink. 

So he had to say what the code stood for.

What did Mikey say again?

Pressure increased on his arms, holding him down.

Oh yeah.

Fuck off.

The pink blurred.

Slap

Leo was looking out the window at the trees racing by. 

They tasted like metal. 

They had massive thorns that wrapped around his arms, grabbing him, digging him open.

No, he shouldn't.

He promised.

He had to first go.

To—

Dad's room.

Cool red tinted lights and his dad lying on the bed. Young, cool, and a bit rectangular. It was too late. Leo didn’t want to wake him no matter how good the commercials were.

Still he probably wouldn’t wake and definitely wouldn’t mind if Leo just—

Leo stumbled forward, steps unsteady, until he could collapse on the bed, curling on his right side and using his left arm to pull his dad into a hug.

He was so soft and smelt like safety from plans gone wrong and support for plans gone right. 

It was home

And comfort 

And—

There you are. What are you doing?

Leo clung to his dad so hard that the embedded thorn bubbled against his skin.

He needed to get that thorn out.

And he had fulfilled his promise.

Leo scratched at his arm, nails clicking against something hard in it.

Stop that.

Both arms were held in place. There was shouting far above him.

Leo went limp. 

It didn't matter how mad he was. Leo had won. His family and their future was safe.

Leo smiled.

It was just a shame that his arms were held down. He wanted one more look at—

Leo’s lips were pulled back, and not by his own volition. His mouth was pried open, and dry cotton was forced against his inner cheek.

His hand was forced from his arm, and encircled. No pressure on it but no escape for it either.

His other hand though. There was pressure on that, and on the arm connected to it as well. But while the pressure on his hand remained firm, the pressure on his arm, that pushed and pulled.

Leo held still. There was no use in fighting. 

There was a pop of relief and steady pressure was returned to his arm. 

It was quieter now. No more yelling, and one arm was no longer trapped. 

He could move it towards his face.

Leo cracked his eyes open, but saw only green.

Where did it go?

Did he drop it?

He patted the ground around him. It was only soft. There was no crinkle, no well worn edges.

Nothing.

It was gone.

Orange and green engulfed his hand.

What's wrong?

Leo furrowed his brow. 

Was he on Staten Island?

No, you're home. You're safe and in dad's room.

Not entirely safe.

Leo turned towards red and purple.

Why?

There was something small and metallic in purple's hands.

It's not one of mine, but it's based on my specs. They'll find us.

Leo’s heart rate sped up. His fingers flexed but he couldn't indulge in that now.

His brother’s safety was paramount.

Leo took a breath.

He was scared, he didn’t have the answers. But he knew who did.

“Can you spoof it?”

I could, but it'll take time. Time that we don't have. I can't—

“Can we move it?”

Leo knew that he had to break Donnie from his spiral. Nothing good came from him focusing on what he couldn’t do.

We could. You're a bit slow and out of it, no offense, so we could have it move slowly to new locations. I can get— Never mind—

It doesn't have to be a drone. I'll take it.

And then they'll catch you instead. We can't risk—

I can stick to the shadows. I could find a car or train and set it on it so that it keeps moving without me.

I can do that. Give me—

“Trust Mikey”

Leo shut his eyes, using that to forcibly contain his thoughts.

“He is strong, fast, and great at both thinking on his feet and sticking to the shadows. He will be fine”

I can keep an eye on him with security cameras. And guide both him and Dad.

Then what should Raph do?

Mikey had gone with Donnie to trick the enemy vehicle into the wrong direction.

Dad was— He was with Casey and April. They had to take that vital thing from the enemy.

So Raph, he must have been with Leo. Which meant that he was distracting the enemy from the other plans.

But what should they do to distract?

They could fight.

Flailing tentacles and choking. A soreness lingering on Leo’s cheek.

Right, Raph wasn’t here was he? 

Leo’s mind just took the strong arms lifting him to a sitting position and the large gentle fingers that removed the gauze from his mouth as Raph’s.

But no matter how much he wanted it to be, the one that held water to his lips wasn't Raph.

It was a nurse or a technician, most likely.

He had just had surgery, right?

So he was waking up. Dad was in the other room. He'd see his brothers as soon as he got home. It was fine. 

He drank, keeping his eyes closed as he waited.

Large hands. Gentle words. Small steps.

The sound of a car door opening.

Careful lifting.

Set to L

I got it

Sitting.

Laying back.

The crinkle of a blanket pulled over his lap.

A seat belt over his blanket.

Large arms supporting his head and holding his shoulders.

Door shutting.

His father's voice.

His brothers’ voices.

Donnie ahead, Mikey beside, Raph behind.

He could feel the thump of wheels on the road as they drove.

He would be home soon.

Donnie would make sure of it.

His voice was confident as he read out directions that Splinter carefully followed.

And even if Leo missed the warning of turn ahead, Raph didn't, bracing him before each one.

Still he could feel the road through his seat.

He could feel Mikey's fingers in his hand.

Mikey squeezed.

Leo squeezed back.

Mikey laughed and squeezed again.

Leo squeezed back again.

“You'll be happy to know that they are heading to Staten Island.” Mikey said.

“Ew, no one deserves that.” Leo joked.

“They do.”

“What? No?” Leo pushed his head back. “Raph back me up.”

There was a pause. He could feel Raph’s arms tense under his head, and Raph sighed.

“No,” He said slowly, like he was forcing himself against a current. “Mikey is tough but fair.”

“I concur, Staten Island is too good for them.” Donnie reached behind his chair and squeezed Leo's calf. He could feel the calluses on Donnie's hand.

He could also feel the cracks in the road coming up through the van’s wheels and into his seat.

Leo squeezed Mikey’s hand and pressed his head against Raph’s arms. He loved feeling his brothers around him.

The feeling of the road cracks he loved less.

Leo let out a sigh. 

Mikey rubbed his hand.

The trees outside raced past, dappling light into the van.

“Taking the—” Leo paused when they passed over a particularly noticeable crack, “scenic route?”

Donnie laughed. “No, our route is optimized to—”

“Hit every pothole?”

Raph gripped his shoulders as Leo’s breathing shallowed.

“Amused laughter.” Donnie said. “No, we are avoiding security cameras while maximizing travel efficiency.

Leo squeezed his eyes closed, if Donnie accounted for efficiency, they'd be home soon.

It just felt long because he felt every crack.

“Hey Don,” Leo swallowed roughly, “Does this van have a name yet?”

“Not yet. The working title is turtle tank 2.0. But as it's not actually a tank, that name’s accuracy is not ideal. Why?”

“ I think you should name it the Vincent.”

“Why”

“Because the Vincent van goes,” Leo laughed breathlessly.

“That's not how you pronounce Van Gogh.” Donnie mumbled.

“But he's a painter—”

Cracks

Hard swallow.

“We're painters. It fits.”

“Exasperated sigh. Our whole life doesn't have to be— Exit coming up in two miles, pops. On the right.”

Splinter hummed

Leo heard the blinker.

He felt the cracks as the van changed lanes.

He felt cracks as the van slowed.

He felt cracks as it turned.

“Hey buddy.”

Leo clenched his hands. He could feel the cracks.

He pressed his head back.

He could feel cracks.

He drew in quick breaths over gritted teeth.

He feel cracks

Sweat beaded on his forehead.

He cracks

A whine escaped from the back of his throat.

Cracks

“What's going on?” Raph sounded concerned and far away.

“I thought we'd have more time. Raph sit him up. Mikey, get some food in him and—”

Movement

Pressure

CRACKS

“Gl— glitt—”

Leo was back laying down. Tears were in his eyes, his face pressed against a large hand.

“Try raising the seat. Tell us when it's too much, okay?”

Click

Cracks

Click

CRacks

Click

CRAcks

“When. No more. Please.”

A large hand was at head, rubbing his scalp.

A plastic spoon was at his mouth.

It took all his focus to swallow. His shell did not like that movement at all.

The spoon was at his mouth again before his shell calmed.

Leo grabbed it and held it while the fire in his shell dimmed.

“Do you want to do it?”

Leo cracked open an eye to look at Mikey. He held out his other hand and Mikey placed a small cup of applesauce in it.

“Once you finish that, we've got your antibiotics and pain meds.”

The smart and responsible thing would be to slowly and surely eat the applesauce one small spoonful at a time.

But that was slow and each swallow made his shell protest.

Leo brought the cup of applesauce to his beak, and dumped it all in his mouth.

One swallow.

His shell really did not like the large swallow, but once he got it past the lump in his throat it was done.

He gave Mikey the cup and spoon, and leaned back pushing towards his seat. His left hand covered the gauze on his plastron, his right hand covered the gauze on his left.

Raph was so still behind him that Leo could feel the radiating tension. But Raph made no move to start a lecture.

So Leo spoke.

“Can I have the pills now?”

Leo took one pill at a time from Mikey's hand, then grabbed the offered water bottle and drank.

Mikey kept a light hold on the bottle. Leo told himself that it was for added support as it would not be fun to drop it on himself. 

Even if Leo knew that reason was a lie.

Mikey did not trust him to not chug the water. And after the applesauce Leo didn’t blame him. He knew he had to be more responsible he knew he—

“Do you want to lay back down?”

“ ’m good.”

Raph, hesitantly and with an artificial lightness, spoke. “As much as I am sure Donnie appreciates you eliminating the bad texture—”

Donnie made an offended squawk.

Leo lightly laughed. 

“I am also sure Donnie wouldn't mind if you took two or three gulps instead...”

“Yeah okay,” Leo breathed, because the one large gulp had not been the best idea. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Mikey held his hand. Raph held his head.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. Despite the gentle hands, he could still feel each repaired crack, each uneven surface of the road.

“How much longer?” Leo asked. He tried to keep the question light, but it still sounded whining to his ears.

“It should kick in fast, within 30 minutes or so,” Donnie said.

“We also have,” Splinter added, “three...

“Two and a half.” Donnie corrected.

“Two and a half hours of driving left.” Spinter finished.

Leo knew that it was childish, but he couldn't help the whine.

“I know,” Splinter said softly. “but the sewers are not safe right now.”

Right. He knew that he had open wounds. His poor brothers were just totally upended. No wonder they had to meet him at the vet. Or maybe Splinter picked them up?

Regardless, it was still his fault. It's still—

“Blue, if you can, try to get some sleep.”

“And if I can't?”

“I could regale you with behind the scenes stories.” Splinter said. “Did you know that on the very first day of Teriyaki Shakedown, I drive up to what I think is the shoot site, but before I can pull in a guard runs up and tells me, sir this is private property.”

Splinter laughed.

“And I was already worried that I had gone to the wrong place. So I left, called my agent, reconfirmed the directions and drove back to the exact same lot. I remember being impressed with how consistent the area was, until the same guard ran up.

“See, I always showed up on day one without the look so that hair and costume had it easier. But this guard was looking for Lou Jitsu and not some guy. After that it became a running joke every morning. Sorry sir I don't— then I pulled out my glasses. Oh, Mister Jitsu, move along.”

Splinter continued to talk, remembering stories from Punch Chowder and Jitsu for Justice.

Leo relaxed his face.

His arms.

His legs.

Mikey and Ralph were holding him. Donnie and Dad's voices filtered through the clouds that made his eyes so heavy.

Chapter Text

Noise filtered into Leo's room. The voices were muffled, but the music accompanying them... It was Jupiter Jim's fifth trip to the moon, TV edition. There was a rights issue after the first release, so only the first edition of the tape had the correct music. All the later TV releases had knock off music that never felt quite right. 

But despite the subpar music it was actually the nicest way that he had woken up since they arrived in Northampton. 

It was a solid six out of ten which beat the pants off being pulled into waking by a heat in his shell boiling over as the pain medication wore off.

Leo grabbed his phone. It was on the side table where he had left it, but it was charging and he knew for a fact that he had forgotten to plug it in.

It was slightly over three hours until his next dose, not the usual forty five minutes. That explained why the pain was actually being held at bay.

Which meant if he did his breathing exercises now he wouldn’t have to do them while waiting for the pain medication to take effect or fighting against its seductive call for sleep.

Leo pulled himself up and back, so that he leaned against the verifiable mountain of pillows between him and the bed’s headboard. He grabbed one of the smaller ones. It was square, firm, decorated with flowers, and the perfect size to press against the gauze on his plastron and bridge.

Breath in for one.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut.

Two. 

His fingers dug into the pillow as he pressed it to his chest. 

Three.

Pressure.

Leo held the breath. There was a noticeable but not yet fiery discomfort concentrated in his shell.

Leo released slowly. 

“Hey buddy.”

Leo cracked an eye open and looked at Raph crouched in front of him. 

“Want some help?” Raph asked. 

In for one. 

Leo nodded. 

Two. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Three.

A firm hand coved the gauze on his back. 

Four. 

Pressure. 

Hold. 

Release.

Repeat. 

“You're doing great.” Raph encouraged. 

Leo gave a tense nod and repeated the exercise.

And again.

And—

No more. 

He had done one more than the minimum asked for. That was enough.

He leaned back, pressing his shell harder against Raph’s hand. He clutched the pillow tighter.

Leo gave a slow and deliberate cough. His shell did not like that at all, but the pressure kept the flood of warning ice from becoming a white hot fire. 

His heart was racing, and Leo leaned his head onto Raph’s arm. He let himself take two shallow breaths before forcing out another slow and deliberate cough.

Every muscle and bone protested the action. And Leo lost all energy. He slumped against Raph.

“You did very well,” Raph said, supporting Leo easily. “Do you want to lie back down?”

Leo gave a singular nod.

Raph readjusted him, gently lifting and placing him back onto his original location on the bed. 

“You can go back to sleep if you want.” 

“No, I'm up.” Leo answered, staring at the corner of the ceiling past Raph’s head.

“Oh,” Raph said softly, looking away from Leo while the scent of his worry permeated the room.

“What's wrong?” 

“It’s nothing bad. It’s just, you’ve slept through the last couple of times we’ve changed your bandages...” Raph sighs and Leo can see the supplies laid on his nightstand. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m okay,” Leo said, matching’s Raph’s softness. “If it needs to be done now, let's do it now. I’d rather get it over with.”

“If you’re sure.”

Leo nodded, closed his eyes, and rolled to his right side.

He felt tape pull from his shell. The smell of copper invaded his nose and clung to the back of his throat. Just like the gauze clung to him. Stubborn against the gentle tugs of Raph.

Leo breathed. In and holding as Raph pulled. Out, releasing air with the section of gauze that Raph freed.

Over and over until the entire stinging mess was exposed to the air.

Leo smelled the antibiotic the second that it was opened. Its pungent odor coating everything even as he tried desperately to only breathe through his mouth.

The medicine stung, but it itched more. And the feeling wasn’t abated as the liquid dried into flaky patches, nor when fresh gauze was replaced over his broken shell and taped down.

Leo knew that he couldn’t— shouldn’t scratch it. 

His hands looped around Raph. His nails scraped against Raph’s shell. One part distraction, one part desperate bid not to be left alone. 

Raph stayed by his side. One hand providing gentle pressure on the new gauze and the other cupping Leo’s head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Raph said softly. “I can’t. You look just like a mummy ninja and you know how weird people can get about seeing random costumed characters.”

“About half as weird as they get when seeing random meme costumes?” Leo laughed.

“Turtlepotamus and turtle-mummy, we’d make a killing in Times Square.”

Leo relaxed his arms and laughed against Raph. “We’d be unstoppable.”

“Yeah,” Raph rubbed Leo’s head, “Do you want to try to go back to sleep or?”

“I’m up.”

“Anything you want?”

Leo paused. “Maybe some of my comics to read until I get tired?” 

Raph’s hand froze on Leo’s head. “Sorry bud, they're at the lair.” 

“That's okay,” Leo said, giving a smile despite his disappointment. “Maybe we can put them on the list for the next person that goes back for a supply run.” 

Raph’s face darkened, “we can't go back.”

“I know, I know,” Leo said, because he knew that open wounds didn’t mix well with sewers. “But someone else—” 

“It's not safe.”

Leo flinched back. Here he was worrying about his own entertainment over the safety of his family. He really couldn’t —

“Leo, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, it’s fine.” Leo cut in quickly. “I know you’re not mad at me. I get it, you’re scared. Our family is at risk and—”

“That doesn’t make it right, or fair. Just because I'm scared doesn't mean that I get a pass to be angry with you.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” The expression on Raph’s face hurt, and Leo couldn’t let that stand. “I’ve done it too.”

“And how exactly did that turn out?” Raph asked.

Leo hesitated. He remembered leading Mikey and Donnie into the enemy’s lair without a plan because he was terrified of the thought of Raph being alone with the Krang. Of being so scared of losing one brother, that he almost lost the other two. 

“Mikey and Donnie told me about what happened after I was caught.” Raph said softly, his thumb attempting to rub out the tenseness in Leo’s face. “And then you told me that you got it, that you understood. I think I understand something now too. I've got to be better. To channel my fear into something more productive than anger at you or our brothers.”

“No Raph, you’re fine.” Leo said, pulling away. “I— I had to do better, the world was ending because of me, everything, everyone I— You didn’t do that.”

“But I could have.” Raph countered. “Like at the beginning, what if breaking the key was what let the Krang out?”

“It wasn't.” Leo said flatly.

“But we didn't know that,” Raph said, his hand engulfing Leo’s. “I wanted to keep it from the villains no matter the cost, even if it just left us with shards. And, looking back, I think you placed more importance on keeping it intact.”

Leo shrugged. “Not too hard to do as it was impossible to destroy.”

“But we didn’t know that,” Raph’s voice was firm. “And, if it was just some random artifact, well, I think the owner would have been happier to get it back late and whole than right away and in pieces.”

“Still, I could have done better. I should have—”

“None of us handled it perfectly. It's just dumb luck that it was your action that caused the bad outcome. It could have just as easily been myself breaking it or something else entirely like Don getting too wrapped up in its study or Mikey's mystic powers reacting poorly to it.”

“But—”

“And when it came down to it you did get better. You put aside your fear, and you understood your limits and really listened and worked with your team.” Raph cupped Leo’s head. “I am so proud of you. And I want to learn that skill from you.”

Leo blinked hard against the warmth welling in his eyes. “It was spur of the moment. I don't— I can't—”

“I mean you did fine dealing with that tracker as well. It’s probably the only reason all of us got out in one piece.”

“What tracker?” 

Raph blinked. “Do you not remember?” 

Leo looked away. 

Raph wrapped him in his arms. “It's okay. Actually, it’s kind of a relief. Just getting that call from Dad was terrifying, I can't imagine what being there would have been like.” 

“Being where?” Leo asked. “What happened?” 

“Bishop kidnapped you.” 

“What?” Leo laughed. But when Raph didn’t laugh in turn, Leo’s dried swiftly. “When?”

“After your surgery, he broke into Dr. Longer's office and pulled you out.” Ralph covered Leo's left hand with his own. “Fortunately, Dr. Longer’s work on your shell held. And even more fortunately is that despite everything you were able to teleport home.” 

Raph buried his head against Leo. Leo wrapped an arm over him. 

“So then I brought Bishop’s tracker into our lair,” He said softly. “That's why it's not safe. I—” 

Raph pulled back and looked Leo square in the eye. “Would you rather have Gram-Gram back or the old lair?” 

Leo knew the point Raph was going to make well before he did. But still he couldn’t give any answer other than “Gram-Gram.” 

“Exactly, we can get a new lair. We can't get a new Gram-Gram, or a new you.”

Leo pulled away and buried his face, his voice muffled by a pillow. 

“Only because Donnie isn't allowed to go full mad scientist.” 

Raph laughed. Leo smiled. 

“Speaking of Dee,” Leo said once Raph had grown silent. “Has he found potential spots for relocation yet?” 

Raph shook his head, Leo could feel the movement through the bed. “Not yet. We both think it'll be good for you to be here for a while, the calmness of this place should help with healing.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “You and I both know Donnie. He doesn't do well without a project. And since he doesn’t currently have his lab. He's either made Vincent capable of spaceflight or his creative energy has been going elsewhere.” 

Leo made sure Raph watched as he pointed towards the window in his room and the view of the driveway it provided. “And I haven't seen the van Gogh anywhere.” 

“He's been looking into the EPF,” Raph said tentatively. “Know your enemy, right?” 

“Raph no.”

“What?”

“We can't go after the EPF.” 

“We have to,” Raph argued. “After what they did—” 

“I don't need vengeance,” Leo argued back. “Not if it puts you at risk.” 

“ Leo we have to. Even if he never exacerbated this whole situation...” Raph took a deep breath, steadying himself. “He has Donnie's tracker. He has our blood, with its higher than human and mutant baseline levels of empyrean. It's why he called us in the first place. It's why he was so interested in our inner workings. So when you were willing to go to him he was happy to play nice .” 

Leo snorted. “I guess that would be more economical than keeping me prisoner, no room or food requirements.”

“Yeah,” Raph said darkly. “So when you got actual treatment, he lost his test subject.” 

“So this isn’t about me then,” Leo said, trying to inject levity he didn’t feel into the statement. “He’s after all of us.”

“Yes, so we have to do something. I can't sit around and wait to see who he'll pick off next.” 

“I get it Raph, I do.” Leo sighed. “But if we rush straight in if we attack him, that brings the EPF, the entire government down on us. It'll be a never-ending fight.” 

Raph leaned towards Leo. His hug was gentle, ghosting over Leo’s arms. But it still completely encircled, completely protected him. 

“I'm not giving you to him.” Raph whispered, voice breaking. “I'm not. I can't—” 

Leo leaned into Raph. He spoke more into his arm than his ear. “I appreciate that. And I agree, we do have to take Bishop out. But the trick is we have to do it without fighting. We have to social engineer his downfall.”

Leo could feel his biggest brother relax.

“What do you suggest?” He asked. 

Leo shrugged. “If we were trying to trick one person for a short time using misdirection, I could tell you. But this involves breaking the trust of the entire EPF. Of all of us, Mikey knows the most about how people can gain and lose trust. He's the best bet to figure out a way.” 

“Okay, I can plan with Mikey.” 

Leo nodded, leaning more heavily into Raph.

“But even if we take him out that way, what's to stop someone else from coming after us? After all, we didn't take down Bishop, so no one has any reason to be scared of us.” 

“Then we need to eliminate the temptation,” Leo said. “The EPF was interested in us because of the empyrean levels in our blood.” 

“Yes,” Raph said tightly. “You can’t social engineer away science.”

Leo chuckled, “Other than his big brain, you know what makes Donnie a better scientist than me?” 

“Other than his brain?” Raph asked. “His love for learning, his curiosity?”

“Hey, I’ve got those, when the subject is one I care for.” Leo muttered. “No, what I was going for was how much worse of a liar he is compared to me. And those lack of lying skills mean that when he shows his results people trust him, and if they try to reproduce his results, they succeed.” 

Leo felt Raph sit up straight. “Bishop’s a much better liar than Donnie.” 

“So if he's disgraced, all of his results are called into question. And, if subsequent research can't reproduce his results well—” 

“But h— wait let me guess. You don’t know, but Donnie would?” 

“Exactly,” Leo breathed, leaning back against his pillows. Raph had this. “So the question becomes how to ensure that they don't target us again due to something we didn't think of.” 

“Well?”

Leo shut his eyes. “The shadows protected us from Draxum, Big Mama, and the Foot. But the EPF are different. They know about us and they thrive as long as no one knows what they are doing. But as soon as others get a hit of what is going on, well that’s how they lose test subjects.” 

“So what do you suggest?”

“All of our enemies and former enemies know about us already. And against the EPF the shadows won’t protect us as well as a spotlight.”

“Dad.” Raph said.

“If he’s willing.” Leo agreed, pulling his blanket towards his head.

“And what about me?” Raph asked. 

“Hmmm?”

“What portion of the plan do you need my expertise for? Because I'm not a planner, I don't know how I can—” 

“That's not a bad thing Raph.” Leo said softly, looping an arm around his brother. “I'm looking 10 steps ahead and you—” 

“I'm not.” Raph said. “I know I'm not, if I could just—” 

“Then I wouldn't be here.” Leo said, cracking open an eye that was far too heavy. “The further out I plan something, the more I focus on potentials and what-ifs, the more I leave myself open to immediate reactions. But you. You see the Krang tentacle that I overlooked. You can react while I'm still trying to figure out how my plan went wrong. I need you to watch my back, to watch our brother's backs.”

Leo clung to Raph, his voice wavering. “Because otherwise, the risks of any little oversight are too paralyzing for me to move past. I can't do what I do without knowing you've got my back. Without your safety net, it's too much.” 

“Raph can do that,” Raph said, rubbing the top of Leo’s head and making the entire room feel secure. 

“Thank you.”

Raph continued to rub Leo's head. And Leo stared out the window looking at the dappled light dancing over the Vincent.

“Let me know when you feel up for the grand tour,” Raph said softly, “Donnie did an amazing job finding this place.”

“Yeah,” Leo replied, “I’d like to see it.”

“Now or...”

Leo thought for a moment, sitting with the waning discomfort. When he wasn’t doing the lung exercises— 

“I could go now,” Leo said. “If I could get a ride.”

Raph lifted Leo easily, mindful of the freshly changed bandages. 

The farmhouse wasn’t the sewers. The rooms were decorated in a rustic fashion, natural wood, overstuffed couches, mismatched wooden chairs and tables, worn quilts, and simple iron fixtures. The entire place was lit with warm light streaming in through thin curtains placed over windows rimmed with cracking white paint.

Mikey had stacked pots and pans next to the sink, and was currently sitting at the kitchen table, sketching the trees outside of the window of the sink. Donnie sat across from him, eyes focused on his laptop, occasionally tapping the blinking router on the counter behind him.

Pops was a few feet away in the living room. He had his eyes closed, leaning back in a wooden rocking chair, hand sewn pillows were under him and the television across from him, so old Leo was surprised that it was even in color, was playing cheesy local commercials at a low volume.

And Raph was, of course, easily holding him, his arms wrapped around him in a protective manner.

It wasn’t the lair.

But with his family here.

It was home. 

It was a nice morning. Leo was perfectly snuggled in his hoodie, the light streaming in from the front window warming him just enough to be cozy but not hot. 

From his spot on the couch, he could hear Mikey streaming soft music, the distinctive hint of freshly shaved wood and wax let him know that Mikey was safe and enjoying his art. And the upbeat voices from Raph’s phone with the occasional muffled thump plainly told Leo that Raph was nearby focused on his workout.

The only thing left were the mumbled curses from Donnie. Leo had heard those enough to know that something was not working right.

So like any good brother he pushed himself off the couch and wandered over to Donnie and his laptop. He hovered over Donnie’s shell so that he could get a good look at the screen.

“Everything okay?” Leo asked.

“Internet connection out in the sticks is the worst.” Donnie complained. 

“Well at least the bar just moved.” 

“From one to two percent.” Donnie sighed. “I know staring at it is not going to do anything, but—” 

“Wanna look at the comments on Dad 's blog instead?” Leo offered lightly. 

“I would,” Donnie said, “We have someone that is very likely to be that security guard from Teriyaki Takedown confirming dad’s stories. But even though that blog is text only, it still involves the internet and that doesn’t help this whole upload situation.”

Oh. 

“So any internet use...” Leo whispered to himself before shouting dramatically, “Raph, Mikey, I demand lake time.” 

 Donnie raised a singular eyebrow at him. “You know that you are still dry docked, right?” 

“But the sun is encouraged,” Leo argued, slapping on a smile, “And you all have so much fun there.” 

“True,” Donnie said flatly. “It does have great ecology and excellently textured rocks.” 

“And I have snacks,” Mikey called in a sing-song voice. 

“Good thinking, Mike,” Leo said, flinging an arm over him. 

“And Raph’s got the towels,” Raph said, holding brightly colored towels in one hand and pointing at Leo with his other. “But you gotta stay dry. Got it?” 

“Promise.” Leo swore.

When they left their impromptu Northampton cabin, Leo was so glad that he had chosen this as a distraction for Don. The lake was only a short walk through the woods, but the way the air smelled of vibrant plant life, and sunlight dappled through the leaves, made every step wonderful.

Mikey raced ahead, talking excitedly to Donnie who nodded along. Raph shouted after them, quickening his pace as he reminded the two of them to slow down. 

Leo did slow down, falling slightly behind. The brisk morning had turned into a warm day. Which, while perfect for sunbathing, was less ideal for walking in the woods with a hoodie. 

In one fluid motion Leo grabbed the back of the hoodie and—

And

Leo froze.

Every muscle locked into place.

He can’t see his brothers since the hoodie was frozen as well, pulled halfway up and covering his face.

But he can hear them.

Their voices fell silent.

Their footsteps sped up.

“You okay buddy?” Raph asked.

“It moved.” Leo breathed. 

“What?”

“On my shell,” Leo clarified, speaking as softly as possible so he didn’t shift his carapace. “It moved.” 

“Does it hurt?” Raph asked.

“I don't know.” Leo cried. 

His heart was pounding, his vision darkened so that he no longer saw the blue light filtering through his hoodie.

“I don't know,” Leo reiterated.  

“Okay, okay.” Raph’s voice wobbled. 

“Back to the cabin.” Donnie said firmly. 

“Yeah,” Leo whispered.

Raph pressed one hand over the gauze on the left side of Leo’s shell. The metal pressed into the wrong spot but it remained stable as Raph lifted Leo and cradled him in his arms.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Raph said as he walked steadily. 

Leo risked nodding against Raph’s arm. The metal didn’t move. 

Each terrifying step, the metal was kept firmly in place by Raph’s hand.

He heard the house door open. He felt Raph’s careful trip up the stairs.

He remained frozen as he was set on the ground.

“Do you want to finish taking this off or should I cut it?” Donnie asked. 

“Ahh classic Donnie, jumping straight towards destruction,” Raph said with a lightness that didn’t fully permeate his voice.  

Leo gave a singular short laugh. “Sorry Dee.” 

Raph reached under the hoodie and covered the gauze directly with his hand. Both Donnie and Mikey worked together to gently remove the garment.

“Oh yeah, I feel that.” Raph said, “I'm going to carefully loosen the gauze. If it hurts, stop me.” 

Leo nodded.

Pulling the gauze back did not hurt. It just made his toes curl with the feeling of bad texture. And the loose brace itself was worse, it felt like a baby tooth hanging on by only a thread. 

“Well,” Donnie said flatly, “the doctor did mention that it would loosen over time, but I'm guessing you don't actually want to remove it.” 

“No,” Leo agreed. 

“We've got some duct tape,” Mikey offered. 

Raph hesitated, “Are you sure that's a good idea?” 

“It should be fine as long as it doesn’t cover the injury,” Leo stated. “Please get it down, I can’t stand it moving.”

“An easy enough fix,” Donnie said, his words punctuated by the tear of duct tape. “Do you want me to reach out to Dr. Longer to get in for an earlier follow up?”

“No,” Leo said quickly. 

With the metal piece locked in place, the feeling of dread radiating from his shell subsided, leaving nothing in its wake.

This would be easy to deal with. And he wasn't going to risk his brothers by leading them into an area Bishop was watching. Not when he had it under control.

He could deal for now. Besides, it shouldn't be too long until Dad had built up enough credibility for a face reveal on his blog, or Donnie and Mikey finished their wooden horse plan.

“I'm good,” Leo clarified, still breathing hard. “It just surprised me, but I promise I'm good now.”

“If you’re sure,” Donnie said, he waited until Leo nodded before turning his laptop screen to face his brothers, “Then, the upload is complete. I will be accepting your praise and adoration now.”

“The upload for what?” Raph asked.

“The upload replacing the code on my tracker.” Donnie explained, grinning, “You know the one Bishop plugged right into the EPF network?”

“This isn’t an attack, right?” Raph asked. 

“I mean technically,” Donnie answered with a shrug. “But the whole point is to open up a back door. If I do this right they shouldn’t notice a thing. Well not yet.”

“What exactly will you use this backdoor to do?” Leo asked, looking at Donnie and glancing towards Mikey.

“Just changing a few numbers on patient records and supply orders.” Donnie said with a dismissive wave. “Also some information on the empyrean testing methods. Once we know what they are looking for and how, it should be simple that any future blood draws don’t ping as alarming.”

“And this will work?” Leo asked.

“Of course,” Donnie said firmly. “And with my new access once I get the appropriate alerts set up, we will know instantly if it doesn’t work.”

“And they won’t figure it out?” Raph asked.

“We won't be directly engaging them, so they shouldn’t have a reason to look, right?” 

Donnie looked directly at Leo. Leo hesitated, because as much as he hated taking any risks with his brothers, the risk of attracting attention like this was so much lower than the reward of an early warning system.

“Right.”

“Well,” Mikey said, the gleam of Dr. Delicate Touch in his eye as he spoke in a sing song. “They will have a reason to look, but not for us.” 

Leo grinned, “So, what's going to be the trigger? Will we be waiting for Dad—”

“Nah,” Mikey said, shaking his head. “I figure that we should go a bit farther away from us. Like getting some investigative journalists to start talking about it.” 

“April is pretty close to us,” Leo countered.

Donnie laughed. “I didn’t make a sock puppet called ‘CanStackin4evr’ just to go and put April in the line of fire. No, Stockboy is pretty impressionable, at least when trying to impress his newest donating subscriber.”

“Nice,” Leo said, “So how do you plan on handling his credibility issue? I imagine it’s not great since the whole prison and blimp thing?” 

“No it’s not,” Mikey confirmed. “But here's the beautiful part. He spreads an unrelated conspiracy theory. Donnie puffs it up with his sock puppets and bots—” 

“And then the information that they released to counter it—” Leo finishes, eyes gleaming. 

“Is what Donnie has just adjusted,” Mikey finished, eyes matching Leo’s gleam. 

“Amazing,” Leo smiled.

“And that's where April can get involved,” Donnie added. “If nobody else picks up on what's in them, it wouldn't be super suspicious for her or her journalism professors to bring some of the inconsistencies in what was publicly released to light.”

“Excellent,” Leo laughed. “You guys are amazing.”

“Why thank you,” Donnie said, “We know.”

“Do you want to head back to the lake for a celebration?” Leo asked.

Donnie shook his head “Not today, there is a lot of work to do now.”

“Besides,” Raph said, “It might be best to lay low until Don’s got that alert set up.”

“Good call big guy,” Leo said, “anything else?”

“Yeah,” Raph said, “let’s stay close just in case.”

Leo nodded. 

It was nice to have everyone together in the living room. Mikey drew the scenery out the front window, hiding the fact he was keeping an eye out. Raph paced, not hiding the fact he was as well. The smell of Splinter’s tea drifting in from the kitchen as he prepared a large batch. And the sound of Donnie’s fingers, tapping on his laptop’s keyboard. 

Even knowing this was the most delicate time of the plan, with everyone around and alert Leo wasn't afraid.

“So what's with the duct tape?” 

Leo froze under Dr. Longer's feather light touch. 

“The bracing started to come loose with his shed,” Splinter answered for him. “It concerned him. However, we were careful not to cover any of the cracks or burns with the tape. Which leads to one of my concerns, the injuries have started changing color and...”

“I'll take a look.” 

Leo could feel the tug on the tape on his carapace. A corner was pulled back, something cold and moist was dabbed into the exposed area and the tape pulled back a fraction more. 

The slow and repetitive action was not painful, but still Leo could not suppress the shiver that ran from his head to his toes when the metal braces were removed.

“Oh look at that,” Dr. Longer said, sounding just like Mikey discovering a cool new work of graffiti. “You already have new scutes growing in. Do you want to see?”

Leo wanted to ignore it forever, but he nodded anyway. 

Dr Longer brought a phone screen around and Leo could see his shell. The dark blue gray that looked excellent on the rim of his shell had spread inward along the cracks, cutting through the formerly symmetric pattern on his shell. But that wasn’t as bad as the burns. He used to have three large light blue patterns running down the center of his shell, now he had five. But the two new ones... They were indented, lopsided, and off center, forming where the largest burns from the fiberglass had been. 

He hated it.

“Your shell should smooth out with more sheds.”

Leo swallowed.

“And the pattern?” he whispered. 

“Will most likely stay as it is.” Dr. Longer sighed before putting on a smile. “But, on the bright side, you don't need the braces on your carapace anymore.” 

Leo reached back, but hesitated before touching his shell. He shuddered as he rolled his shoulders.

“It feels weird,” he complained. 

“Painful?” Dr. Longer asked. 

“No just—” Leo waved his hands, as he tried to figure out a way to describe the overwhelming sensation that skittered across his shell. But didn’t get a chance before a square of gauze was pressed against the area.

“Does this help?” 

Leo nodded.

“I broke my ankle a couple years ago, skiing accident, and I remember vividly when I got my cast off that it took a while for my foot to adjust to the new sensation and even longer for the incision to feel normal.” Dr. Longer said lightly. “So it might simply be getting used to having the gauze and braces off. But if the weird feeling doesn’t start going away, come back in.

“Ok,” Leo breathed.

Dr. Longer taped the gauze in place before moving to Leo’s front. Leo watched as he used a q-tip dipped in mineral oil to loosen the duct tape on his plastron. 

“Hey,” Dr. Longer said smiling, “that's kind of cool.” 

Leo looked down. Like his carapace, the cracks were no longer cracks, but divots filled in with new scutes. Unlike his carapace the new scutes in the cracks were the same color as the surrounding scutes. However, although the burns had filled in, those thick stripes were not the same color as their surroundings.

“It looks like you got some of the light blue coloration from your shell pattern,” Dr. Longer said lightly.

Leo traced over the new scutes with his fingers. The touch drove out the weird tingling feeling.

“It matches your color, Blue.” Splinter said with a smile.

“I guess.”

“You’re dad is right, it looks good.” Dr. Longer agreed.

“Yeah?” Leo said hesitantly. “It still feels weird.”

“We can cover it for now while you adjust,” Dr. Longer said, adding the gauze over the area, “And if it doesn’t start feeling better, come back in.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Longer stepped away and grabbed two long pillows. He put them both on the table with Leo and guided him to lay on his right side. The pillows helped to stabilize him as Leo moved his arm away from his bridge. 

Dr. Longer's hand hovered over Leo's side. He took a deep breath but did not touch the tape, gauze, or columns.  

“I heard some disturbing news about the EPF clinic,” He said slowly. “That's where you were going before here, right?” 

“Yeah,” Leo breathed, heart hammering in his chest. 

“So, one of the higher ups was caught replacing pain medication with saline.” 

“Why would they do that,” Splinter said, even though both he and Leo knew perfectly well that that wasn't what Bishop was actually doing. 

“For profit, most likely, it would let him get around government controls, and sell it on the black market,” Dr. Longer said not looking at either of them, “The only reason I bring this up is so that if you start hurting and think that pain medicine won't help because it didn't help before... Please say something, because it is likely that it would help now.” 

“Okay.” 

Dr. Longer slowly pulled away the gauze. It did not stick to the injury, but did need to be pulled away from the edges of duct tape that held the metal spacer columns in place.

“Well, it’s not as far along as the rest of your shell, but I wasn't expecting it to be,” Dr. Longer said gently, peering at the area with a pen light. “Still there is some nice granulation forming.”

Dr. Longer took a deep breath and held his hand over the metal columns. “I'm going to carefully remove these. Let me know if anything starts hurting.”

Leo nodded.

Dr. Longer was very gentle as he removed the duct tape. Leo counted each spacer as it was set to the side. He was fine after the first one, but by the last he couldn’t control his shaking.

“Are you scared or hurting?” Dr. Longer asked. 

“Scared,” Leo whispered, his muscles taunt from attempting to fight the shaking and hold him as still as a statue. “I don't want to start over from the beginning.” 

His dad petted his head. 

“I'm going to apply a little pressure, okay?” Dr. Longer said softly. “Tell me if it hurts.” 

“Okay,” Leo breathed.

Dr. Longer’s hand approached Leo’s side. Leo whined.

The doctor stopped. “Did that hurt?” 

Leo didn’t know. He hadn’t actually touched his side, but... His heart was pounding. Every muscle was tense, and his focus... He knew that his dad and doctor were talking but he couldn’t force himself to listen in. 

At least not until Dr. Longer stood in front of him holding a mask up.

“Here,” he said once he saw Leo’s eyes on him. “We can try this. It should help to both reduce stress and dull pain.”

Leo gave a singular short nod. Dr. Longer placed the mask on Leo’s face.

Leo breathed.

It was a little much, with the air blowing at his nose. But it was just uncomfortable, not bad. And fixing that discomfort required more work that it would be worth. 

Besides...

In time with the calming of his heart, the annoyance of the blowing air decreased.

The muscles in his jaw loosened. Followed by those in his shoulders and legs. 

He relaxed his head into his father’s lap. His eyes half lidded as his dad rubbed the back of his head, just above where the straps of the mask lay.

“You’re doing great,” Dr. Longer said. “Can I try touching your side again?” 

Leo gave him a thumbs up. 

A burst of sensation bloomed from the top of his bridge. The touch started feather light and then built. It was like he was doing the breathing exercises but two steps to the right.

The second press let Leo know that Dr. Longer was going to touch all the way down his bridge. And while he knew that he should be nervous, he wasn’t. That was a future consequence that he wouldn’t worry about until—

Leo flailed his left hand.

The pressure halfway down his bridge subsided. 

“It’s okay,” Dr. Longer said softly, “I’m going to try from the bottom, alright?”

Dr. Longer waited until Leo gave him a thumbs up. He then started applying slow pressure at the bottom of Leo’s bridge.

It didn’t hurt as he slowly moved up. But Leo understood that it would. He wasn’t worried, but he did focus on catching the upcoming discomfort.

So when he waved his left hand it wasn’t so much that it hurt, but rather that it reminded him of the pain. 

He contemplated removing the mask to tell Dr. Longer that he could keep going, but the doctor pulled back.

“We’re done,” he said softly. “It looks like there's still some instability, but fortunately it’s stable both above and below the area, so that does lower the risk of another displacement.” 

Leo sighed into the mask. He snuggled closer to Splinter. He felt light. Like he had dropped weights that he hadn’t realized he was carrying. 

“I'm still going to replace the bracing,” Dr. Longer continued. “It will help to minimize pain in the still healing section.”

Leo gave a thumbs up.

“Okay, I'm going to clean the area before I reapply the braces.” 

Leo curled against his Dad, but still gave a thumbs up. 

As Dr. Longer started his work. Leo closed his eyes and pretended he was at Hirsuté Resort and Spa. Not the actual anti-reptile spa, but what he imagined that it was like, with gentle care and attention. 

The exfoliation was a nice addition. The gentle scratching of an area that had been tucked away for months. The—

Leo waved his left hand.

The care on his side stopped.

“Sorry sorry,” Dr. Longer said quickly. “There is still some stubborn shed. But we can leave it. We'll just place the brace elsewhere.”

Leo gave a thumbs up.

Something cool squished onto his shell as each brace was positioned. It was like glue escaping from under paper when Raph was too generous with applying it to the back of posters.

“All right, we can have you sit up now.” 

Leo was one hundred percent certain that he could pull himself up. But both Dr. Longer and his father grabbed onto an arm and eased him into a sitting position without Leo having to do a thing.

“How does it feel, any discomfort?”

Leo moved as much as the metal braces would allow. He took two deep breaths and gave one forced cough.

He gave them a thumbs up.

Dr. Longer carefully slid the mask off of Leo’s face.

“Just stay sitting for now,” he said, “I’m going to put together a list of non toxic adhesives that you can use instead of duct tape if the bracing loosens before you get back in here.”

“Thank you,” his father said, “and while you are out there, could you ask for Raphael to join us?”

The doctor replied. Leo blinked. He opened his eyes to his brother’s face.

“Hey buddy,” Raph said, holding out his arms.

“I can stand,” Leo said flatly, in opposition to the slowing spinning of the room.

“I know, but I want to help.” 

Leo lent on Raph.

Each footfall made the world just a bit stiller. Each breath sharpened his focus just a bit. And with that focus...

He didn’t need Raph’s support. He could walk on his own. He was being selfish by continuing to take Raph’s time and attention he—

Raph shifted his arm and held Leo close.

Leo allowed himself to be supported. 

His worry, held at bay by his brother’s arms and the fuzz at the edges of his vision.

He just took one step after the other, and in the space of a blink Raph was stopping and his other brothers were surrounding him.

Donnie had opened the back door, he stayed inside the soft blue glow of the van while Mikey jumped out and assisted Leo into his seat.

It was Raph in front, Mikey behind, and Donnie beside this time. 

“Well,” Donnie said flatly, “it looks like we are taking the long way back.”

“Or~” Mikey cut in, “We could stop by Run of the Mill, what do you say Leo?”

Leo cracked open an eye. He wasn’t tired, just relaxed. And Run of the Mill would be fun if only—

There was an itch, just out of reach, at the back of his mind that fought his calmness.

“What about the EPF do you think—”

“No,” Donnie said firmly, swinging one of the Vincent's new screens to face Leo, “I’ve been monitoring their communications, as promised, and without Bishop pulling the strings a couple of kids visiting the vet really doesn’t pique their interest.”

Leo let out a breath.

“ Well, it looks like I won’t need to do a face reveal then,” Splinter laughed from the driver’s seat. “Still I will miss all my adoring fans on the official Lou Jitsu. ”

“Hold off on the face reveal, yes,” Leo said, “Abandon the blog, no.”

Donnie nodded, “Leo’s right, the older that blog is the more legitimacy it will have if we ever need to play that card. And this gives me time to continue to improve the quality of our falsified records.”

Leo allows himself to relax against the seat. It was so nice to be surrounded by family the only thing that could make it better was—

“Good news April and both Casey’s can meet us there.” Mikey said.

Leo smiled. “It’s been so long.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Raph laughed.

“I dunno,” Mikey singsonged, “does visiting the cabin really count?”

“Yes.” Donnie said flatly.

The bounce of the wheels on the road, and his brother’s laughter over the trip to Run of the Mill melted off the remaining fog. But with it gone Leo hesitated exiting the van.

His heart was pounding.

But Raph was on his left, quiet, guarding.

“We can take a rain check if you want?”

“I’m good,” Leo said softly. “I just...”

“Just?”

“What if nothing has changed?” Leo asked softly, “What if everything has?”

Raph threw his arm over Leo, “Hey.” 

“Yeah?”

“I'm here, right?” Raph said firmly. “If anything unexpected or bad happens, I can handle it. You’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay.”

Leo leaned against Raph, “Thanks.”

He walked with Raph into the restaurant. It was louder and more hectic than Leo had dealt with in a long time. And he was on the edge of backing out, but—

April was waving at him, a smile lighting up her face. Cass looked up from the story she was acting out to Splinter and gave a boisterous smile of her own. And Case followed suit with a soft grin.

Leo couldn’t help but grin back.

His fingers caught on the gauze on his plastron, and before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea he pulled it back.

“Lookit, blue stripes,” he said with far more pride than he actually felt. The gauze bunching in his hand as he forced a playful grin.

“Geeze, leave some radness for the rest of us,” April laughed, jumping to stand in front of him. “So you’re officially free of the bracing?”

“Almost,” Leo corrected, “But it’s looking good.”

“That’s really good news,” April said, looping her arms around Leo and Raph, dragging them to the table. “Let’s celebrate.”

And celebrate they did.

Even if he still needed Raph guarding his left flank. Even if he still needed Donnie watching EPF communications. Even if he still needed Mikey checking in and Splinter pulling the table’s attention when things got a bit too much. Even if he wasn’t back to where he was before.

He had his family and he could see a path forward, towards better things.