Archive of Our Own

Leo knows he’s stupid. Okay? It’s just – an intrinsic fact of life. Like how the sky is blue, or grass is green. Leo is stupid. He doesn’t need reminding. He knows it better than anyone.

So if the big, red F on his latest Chemistry test could stop staring him in the face, that’d be great.

And the whispers. God, the whispers are the worst part. Like, can you imagine being a supergenius and having him for a twin. Or, geez, the smart gene must’ve skipped him over. Shoulders hunched up to his ears as he stares down at the paper, silent, trying his best to just. Ignore them. 

It’s fine. It doesn’t bother him. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, just cause he’s not good at science-y stuff doesn’t mean he’s not good at anything. Like, words! He’s so good at words. Talking his way out of situations. Figuring out exactly what people want to hear, and then giving it to them. Words are his thing.

… The school part of things, though? Not so much. 

A lot of it stalls at research. Like, he tries to read an article or a book or anything and it just – doesn’t happen. Staring at the paper, staring at the screen, reading the same paragraph 50 times over without learning a single damn thing. Or staring at a blank document, cursor blinking on the screen, with no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to start. 

It’s whatever. He works better under pressure anyway, everything at the last minute, writing fucking garbage but done is better than perfect, or something. The one time he forgot a full page of a paper on the printer because he was in such a hurry not to miss the bus. Thankfully, that teacher was chill and understood. Let him bring it in the next day and didn’t take too many points off. 

Whatever. He’s just. Tired.

“Leonardo,” says the teacher, and Leo jerks his head up to the sound of snickers from his classmates. He’s awake. He’s so awake. “Please come see me after class.”

She looks disappointed. Duh, obviously, of course she is. He’s disappointed too! He gets it! But seriously, does she have to call him out in front of everyone? It’s –

No, it’s fine. It doesn’t affect him. That heat of humiliation in his gut? That’s nothing. All in his head, or whatever. Doesn’t mean anything.

He zones out for the rest of the class and then trudges up to the teacher’s desk. Paints a smile onto his face. He’s doing this on purpose, see? He’s embracing his role as the idiot. The fool jingles his way across the classroom. Loving it.

“... concerned about you,” says the teacher, and Leo realizes he missed probably a good ten seconds of her talking. “I just think you could be so much more successful if you actually applied yourself. There are tutors available if you need help with any of the topics, but at the very least, I’d suggest spending a little more time studying.”

“Uh huh,” Leo says. He’ll pencil it in. Maybe before dinner tonight.

“And I’m still missing that paper from you,” she continues. “It was due last week, and I already gave you an extension. I’m going to need you to turn it in tomorrow, okay?”

Oh, yeah. He, uh, kinda forgot about that one. Okay, so he’ll pencil that in right after the studying. It’s only – what, two pages, right? He can handle that for sure. 

“Will do,” he says, smile stretching his face. “Can I go now? I don’t wanna be late to my next class.”

She sighs, and he takes that sound and tucks it away with the laughter and the whispers and the everything else from everyone else who’s ever been disappointed in him. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leonardo.”

“Just Leo’s fine,” he tells her for maybe the millionth time. And then he leaves.

He makes it through the rest of school without getting anyone else mad at him, somehow. Rides the bus home and immediately heads to his room to at least try and study. Science is probably his worst subject, but math isn’t great either. Nothing really is, but at least with his other classes he’s rockin’ C’s across the board. So. Those two are what he needs to focus on.

He stares at the page. Doesn’t really know where to start. None of it makes much sense, and even when he does manage to briefly understand something it usually doesn’t last long. So.

When he thinks about it like that, there really isn’t much point. But he’s already disappointed everyone enough as it is. At least this way he can say he tried, for what little that’s worth.

Leo eyes the plate of food, his stomach growling. He hasn’t had more than a snack since lunch, and Dad always says he’s a growing teenage boy. 

But he weighs that against the ever-growing pile of late assignments and failed tests, towering above him, along with the fact that once again he couldn’t fucking focus when he was trying to study earlier, and. Well. It’s no contest.

“I’m not hungry,” he says with a wave and a smile. “Can you save mine for later, maybe? I gotta go work on school stuff.”

From the table, Donnie looks up, eyebrow already raised. “You? Voluntarily working on something for school? Did I hear that correctly?”

Take it and tuck it away. It can’t bother him if it’s true. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it.”

And then he makes his escape.

It’s late. Later than he should be up, probably. But he has to finish that paper for Chem. Well. Has to start it, first, but. Semantics. He still hasn’t gotten a single word down. So much for working well under pressure. The paper is already late and he still can’t get it done. 

“Nardo?” comes from the door, and Leo jumps, startled. Shit. It’s just Donnie, it’s fine. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” he calls back, and the door creaks open. Donnie pokes his head in, eyes narrowed in what kinda looks like worry. Totally unfounded, by the way, Leo is doing great. And if he isn’t, well, that’s his own fault.

“Did you want your leftovers? Mikey put them in the fridge, they’re in the blue tupperware on the left side.”

Oh, right. He was supposed to eat at some point, huh? Whoops. 

“Yeah,” he says, so the pinch of Donnie’s brow will smooth out. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll grab em in a minute.”

Donnie pauses. Opens his mouth. Closes it again. Hesitant, which is so very unlike him that it fully takes Leo’s attention away from his failed attempt at writing.

“You good, Dee?” he asks, concerned, and Donnie nods.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I just – don’t stay up too late. Or try not to, anyway.” 

“Of course,” Leo says, giving a thumbs up and then turning back to his laptop. Donnie stays in the doorway for a minute, but then leaves.

And Leo…

Leo is still staring at that blinking cursor, hours later.

Okay, so he didn’t manage to sleep. And he didn’t manage to get the paper written. But, and hear him out here, he also didn’t manage to eat the leftovers. 

That one, at least, is only mostly his fault. He kinda forgot about them until, like, two in the morning, and he was gonna eat them but he didn’t want to wake anyone up with the microwave and it would’ve been so gross cold so he just.

Didn’t.

He did grab a granola bar, though. Better than nothing. He’s not gonna starve, that wouldn’t help anything. 

The granola bar didn’t really help anything either, though. Didn’t help him get any writing done. Which is. Fine. He already knows he’s stupid. This isn’t anything new.

Leo can feel Donnie's eyes on him the entire bus ride. And like, there's no reason for it. He had breakfast. He'd put on makeup to hide the bags under his eyes. He is a-okay. Donnie is just – overreacting. 

God, he's tired, though. He kinda regrets staying up all night, especially since he didn't even get anything done. Which means his teacher is gonna be pissed off at him, and –

And. And he'd completely forgotten about all his other homework. His gut does a flip as he realizes. Fuck, he's going to be in so much trouble. More trouble. Whatever. Add it to the pile. He's pretty sure he already has another late paper in English, in addition to the Chemistry one. So. 

Leo is jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of the bus doors creaking open. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Donnie open his mouth to say something, and no thank you. 

“Well, seeya later,” Leo tells his brothers before Donnie can get a word in, and then he's gone. 

Leo collects disappointed stares and sighs like he does comic books. He's gotten one from every single teacher so far. Even gym, somehow, despite not really having homework in that class. Granted, that one was probably because he totally tripped over nothing halfway through a lap and then proceeded to lay there on the ground for a good two minutes. That one's on him. 

As are the rest of them, but whatever. 

And of course, Donnie tries to talk to him while he's down. Because that's the one class that doesn't have an honors component and thus the one class they share. 

“Nardo –” he starts, and Leo cuts him off. Not dealing with that. 

“I'm fine, Don. Just… didn't sleep super well last night, and it's kinda messing me up. I should be good as soon as I get some rest.”

It's total bullshit, of course, because Leo has a feeling he's gonna have to pull another all-nighter to catch up on all the homework he forgot to do for today. But Donnie buys it, even if he seems kinda doubtful. 

Leo gets up, and he keeps running. 

The second Leo gets home, he heads upstairs. Doesn't even stop to say hi to Splinter. He is laser-fucking-focused. On a mission. Cannot be distracted. He's got this. 

Except he gets stalled almost immediately, the second he tries to make a list of all the assignments he's missing. He writes down the papers and then just – nothing. He knows there was stuff due today. He knows there's stuff due tomorrow. And there's probably more missing assignments he's completely forgetting about on top of all that. 

But he can only remember, like, two things from the whole list. 

He definitely hadn't processed any of the homework assignments his teachers gave out today, he knows that much. So those are off the table altogether. He'll probably find out at some point anyway, when they call him up to their desks in front of everyone to remind him of what a failure he is. So. 

Okay. 

He stares at the paper for a while longer. Quickly becoming his all-time favorite hobby. Or, like – if there was a medal for Staring At A Blank Page, he would for sure win the gold. No contest. 

Unfortunately, there's not, and in the real world that's probably the least useful skill he could possibly have. 

He does finally manage to shake a few more assignments loose from that sorry excuse for a brain of his, and writes them down before he forgets again. But then he's struck with another problem: where the hell does he start?

He should probably work on the papers, because those are worth the most. Right? But the smaller assignments would be easier and quicker to get done, in theory. Except one of them requires reading, like, ten pages of the tiniest text Leo's ever seen, and he already knows that's gonna take the entire night if he can manage it at all. So maybe he should skip that one for now, and then he's back to having no idea what to do first. 

… At least now he's not staring at a blank page. That's progress. Right?

Ha. Right. 

Mikey comes to get him for dinner. And Leo feels really bad for skipping last night, so he goes. But he can't stop thinking about his list the entire time, and by the time dinner is over he realizes he's only eaten a few bites, the rest of it cut into smaller and smaller pieces until it's just scraps. 

He's not really hungry anyway. He thanks Mikey for dinner and scrapes the rest of it into the trash when his little brother isn't looking. 

And then it's back to work.

He actually manages to get some work done before Donnie pokes his head in. Which would be something to be proud of if not for, y’know, all the work he didn't get done. So. 

“Don't pull another all-nighter,” Donnie says pointedly, and. Damn. He really thought he managed to slip that one by. “Or I'll hide the coffee machine.”

Shit. Leo needs his coffee. He puts on his most winning smile and says, “No worries, Dee. I just gotta work on a few things and then I'm heading to bed.”

Donnie frowns, clearly unsure. But he drops it and leaves, which is all Leo needed. 

… Unfortunately, Donnie showing up totally broke what little concentration Leo had, basically putting him back to square one. 

Whatever. Not like that's anything new. 

After several hours with barely any progress made, Leo forces himself to set his laptop aside. He knows Donnie's threat wasn't empty, and he cannot afford to lose access to caffeine if he wants to actually get through the day. Which means he does have to at least try and sleep. 

It's a little after 4:00 AM right now. So if he gets to sleep quickly, he can get, like, an hour and a half or so before his alarm goes off. That should be enough to satisfy Donnie. Hopefully. 

He ends up getting forty five minutes. Which. Is still better than nothing, and enough to keep his sweet sweet coffee within reach. Donnie doesn't look happy, but he's trapped by his own rule – no pulling an all-nighter. Which Leo didn't. So ha. 

The bus ride cannot end fast enough. Everyone around Leo seems so much louder than normal, like it's all playing in double-double-HD, and for a moment he wonders if this is what Donnie feels like all the time. He hopes not. This sucks so bad. 

Leo bolts the second the doors open, pushing past everyone and he knows that's just gonna worry his brothers even more (or – worry Donnie, at least, he'd managed to placate Raph and Mikey) but he seriously cannot be in such a crowded noisy hellish space for a single second longer. 

Inside isn't much better, though. Students bumping into him, talking to their friends in the halls, raucous laughter that grates at his ears. He keeps his head down, speed-walking to class as quickly as he can, where it's thankfully a little bit quieter and people will hopefully leave him alone.

And then he settles in for another day of disappointing people. 

Leo forgot his lunch. 

For a moment, he thinks about eating the shit they serve in the cafeteria, but almost immediately dismisses it. He's pretty sure that stuff is, like, alive or something. And the lunch lady dude (or would it just be lunch lad? Huh. He doesn't know if there's a term for a guy who's a lunch lady, which when he thinks about it is seriously – ugh, wait, okay, not the point) kinda creeps him out. So. No thank you. 

He could just – call Dad. He probably wouldn’t mind using his lunch break to bring Leo something to eat. But Leo did this to himself, and he can’t expect his dad to take time from work to drive all the way here over – over basically nothing.

It'll be fine. Leo had breakfast, he's not gonna starve. Maybe he can even use the time he would've spent eating to try and catch up on assignments. 

Yeah. Yeah, that's a great idea, actually. He doesn't particularly want to hang out in the noisy, crowded cafeteria today anyway. So he takes his backpack and heads to the library, where it's nice and quiet. 

He doesn't get any work done. But lunch is short anyway. 

Leo is fucking dreading Chemistry. He knows the teacher is gonna try and talk to him about that paper, about whatever other assignments he's missing now, about that test he bombed, and thinking about all of it piled on top of each other makes him feel a teeny bit nauseous. 

For a second, he wonders if he could maybe just. Get out of class, say he was sick and go home early. But. Then Dad would have to take time out of work to come pick him up. A waste of time and gas. No thanks. 

And he doesn't want to get even further behind. 

He shows up right at the bell and keeps his head down the whole time. And he can feel the teacher's eyes boring into him, but he does his best to ignore it. He doesn't have the paper. He doesn't have anything. 

He leaves the second class is over, bolting out the door as quick as he can before she can say anything.

Leo knows he's a failure. He doesn't need to hear it from her too. 

After what feels like forever, school finally ends. Back on the bus, back in the crowds, someone howling with laughter directly in his ear and Leo is officially no longer present. He's pretty sure Raph says something at some point, but if he tunes back in to hear it he's pretty sure he might actually try to claw his ears off. So whatever it is, it can fucking wait.

They get to their stop and he leaves the bus on autopilot, only coming back to his body once they're finally inside and it's quiet. Except then he looks around to see all three of his brothers looking at him with concern, and. Yikes. No thanks. 

“Sorry, guys,” he says, flashing a grin. “Had kind of a long day. I'm gonna try and take a nap, I'll see you at dinner!”

And then he books it upstairs to get back to work. 

He barely makes any progress by dinnertime. He briefly considers skipping again, but he missed lunch, and he's really fucking hungry and it's making it even harder to focus than usual, and also he's pretty sure Donnie will chew him out if he even tries. 

So he goes downstairs and starts eating. 

Except a few bites in, Splinter speaks up. “I was thinking we could go out for pizza this weekend, as a reward since you are all working so hard in school. How does that sound?”

Aaaand just like that, Leo has officially lost his appetite. 

“Ooh, Run of the Mill?” he asks, stretching his best smile as wide as he can, like he's super excited. And normally, he would be. Run of the Mill has the best pizza, and the owner is so cool, and so much fun to annoy. Leo's pretty sure the guy hates him, but hey. Can’t win ‘em all. 

But. He can't help feeling like he doesn't deserve that pizza. Because Dad had said it was a reward for working hard at school, and, well, Leo isn't. 

Splinter eyes Leo, looks like he wants to say something, and for a moment Leo thinks he's onto him. But thankfully, his attention is taken away by Mikey. 

“Yessssss!” the youngest cheers excitedly, pumping a fist in the air, and Leo sends him a silent thank you. “When were you thinking?”

Splinter smiles, mischievous, like he's got something else up his sleeve. “Well, I was planning on Sunday, since April has her break next week and she will be back. That way we could all go together.”

There's a collective gasp from all four of them, eyes going huge. Which does make Leo feel a little better, that at least he's not the only one that totally forgot their pseudo-sister would be coming home next week. 

That gets Leo actually excited. He hasn't seen April in months, and she's always so busy with classes and work and everything that she hardly ever has the time to call. He's missed her, and he knows everyone else has too. 

And – he has to do a little mental math, but he's pretty sure today is Thursday. Which means only a few more days until April is back, and only one more day where he has to face everyone at school and know that they know he's a total and complete failure. Huge win all around for the Leo community. 

… It's still not enough to get him his appetite back, but that's fine. He's just making sure he has enough room for pizza on Sunday. 

Once again, Leo ends up with around an hour of sleep and barely any work done. The assignments are piling up in every single class now, and his stomach rolls at the thought of having to go to school today. But he doesn't really have a choice in the matter, so he grabs his coffee and gets on the bus. And maybe he leaves his lunch behind on purpose this time, but it's fine. He needs the extra time to catch up, way more than he needs to eat lunch. Despite the gnawing at his insides that tries to suggest otherwise.

Just. Get through the day, and then he has two whole days off. Two whole days to get some work done. And – and hang out with April, duh, obviously. He barely ever sees her, it would be so shitty if he skipped out just because he's a lazy idiot who can't get anything done. He's absolutely not gonna do that. 

But there's gotta be some time somewhere in there that he can use to work. 

School is hell. Everything is still way too loud, too bright, too much, and he’s too fucking hungry. And on top of all that, he has to dodge any attempts from any teacher to try and talk to him. Yes, he knows he needs to get that work in. He knows he needs to improve his grades. He knows this is junior year and he really needs to start thinking about applying to college, and none of them will look twice at someone with grades as bad as his are right now. He gets it, thank you very much. 

And he really wishes he could say he's doing his best. But considering he once again gets absolutely nothing done during lunch, he's pretty sure ‘his best’ is not a fair assessment for whatever the hell it is he's doing. 

At least it's the weekend after this. 

Leo was planning on going straight upstairs to work once he got home. Except that, as his brothers disperse and go to do their own things, Leo is pretty sure he hears his dad talking. 

And. Leo knows he shouldn't, it's rude to eavesdrop, but it's like he's not even fully in control of his own actions as he sneaks down the hallway to just outside the living room. Pressed against the wall so Splinter doesn't see him, barely even breathing, as quiet as he can manage to be. 

“... is very concerning,” he hears, and his heart nearly jumps out of his throat because what else could they be talking about but Leo's academic fuckups? “He has seemed more tired lately, but otherwise has been acting the same as always. I… I will speak to him about it and see if I can find out what the problem is. Thank you for letting me know.”

Well. The problem is him, and there's not really anything Leo can do to fix that, as much as he would love to. But there's no way he's actually gonna say that out loud, knowing full well that would just worry everyone, and it sounds like the phone call is wrapping up. So Leo pushes off the wall and makes his way up to his room before his dad can realize he was listening in. 

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door, and Leo looks up from his laptop with the same old blank page as always. 

“Come in,” he calls, and then acts surprised to see Splinter standing in the doorway. Like he didn't see this coming. 

“Leonardo,” says his father, and Leo automatically tenses, knowing exactly where this is going. “I received a call from your school. They said you have multiple overdue assignments in several different classes. I am worried about you, my son. I do not think you have been getting enough sleep, and that is very important for a boy your age.”

A pause, and then, almost hesitant – “As is food. I… I have noticed you left your lunch at home the past two days. And you have not been eating as much at dinner, either. Is – you know that if there is anything going on, if you are feeling badly about yourself, you can tell me.”

Oh. Oooh. Well. The bad news is, apparently his dad did notice the dinner thing. And the lunch thing, but Leo is pretty sure he can just use the excuse that he’s been eating the school lunches instead. Dad doesn't know how gross they are, so he should buy it. And hopefully he'll believe Leo just hasn't been super hungry lately. 

The good news is, this is super easily fixable. And Leo might not even have to lie! Well – not that much. Not about the food stuff, anyway. Because the assumption Splinter seems to be making – that Leo has an eating disorder – is just. So not true. Leo's totally comfortable with his body. One of the few things he wouldn't completely change, given the chance. 

And as long as he reassures Splinter about that, it should take attention off the other stuff, and Leo can probably wave it off and convince his dad that he's got it handled. Easy. 

“I know,” he says, smile on his face as always. “I promise, if something was wrong, I'd tell you. But I've just been eating the school lunches, and I’ve been snacking at school too, so I haven’t been super hungry for dinner. I'm okay.”

There’s quiet while Splinter studies him, trying to figure out whether or not he’s lying. But Leo’s poker face is locked down, so of course, eventually Splinter sighs and nods.

“Very well,” he says, and Leo hadn’t even realized how tense and anxious he was until now, relaxing automatically at his dad letting it go. “Just… know that you can always come to me. If something is wrong, if you need help, if you need anything. I am here. I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

And. Okay. That gets through. Leo’s eyes might get a tiny bit misty at that, at his dad letting him know that even if Leo is a huge disappointment, he’s still Splinter’s son.

“I know,” he repeats, smile wobbling just a little. “I – I’ll let you know. If I do need anything. Promise.”

He tries to ignore the guilt swimming in his stomach at the lie. He should be able to handle this on his own, he’s not a little kid anymore, and besides it's a problem he caused in the first place. His problem. His responsibility to fix. 

“My baby Blue,” Splinter says, as tender as anything. He reaches up and takes Leo's face in his hands, pulls him down to his level and plants a kiss on his forehead. It’s too much, and Leo can’t fight back the tears that overflow, lack of sleep working hard against him. “You have grown up so fast. I worry that soon you will no longer need your papa. Please allow me to help you while I still can.”

Leo’s heart cracks in two, and he sobs, big fat tears welling up and rolling down his cheeks as he curls around himself. Splinter pulls him into his arms and holds him, the same way he always has. Like nothing in the world could possibly hurt Leo. Like nothing could possibly go wrong, because his dad’s got him. 

He cries himself out, Splinter holding him close the entire time, shushing him and stroking his hair. Not once does he give any indication that he’s bothered by having to comfort Leo, that Leo’s a burden, that he has a thousand better things to be doing. He just… lets Leo cry, and for the first time in the past – week? Leo doesn’t know anymore – it almost feels like maybe things will be okay.

The feeling doesn’t last. The second Splinter leaves the room, the anxiety and shame redoubles. He needs to work. Make up for the time he wasted making his dad comfort him.

He eats dinner that night, if only to make Splinter happy. But the clock in his mind is ticking the whole time, counting down time that he’s wasting when he should be working, and the second dinner’s over he bolts up the stairs to his room.

Leo actually manages to get some work done that evening! Jury’s out on if it’s good work – he’s too tired, both physically and emotionally, to really process much properly. But he’s actually got, like, a full half page done on that science paper by the time Donnie shows up at his door.

“Are you still working? Even though it’s the weekend?” Leo’s twin asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Leo nods.

“I’ve got a couple papers due,” he explains, conveniently leaving out the fact that the due date on both of them was over a week ago now. “And some other homework, too. And I need to study Chemistry, I didn’t do great on the last test.”

Donnie’s face twitches. “You know I’m always happy to help you study, right?”

And. Yeah. Leo knows. But he already feels stupid enough, thanks. “Maybe later. I’ll let you know.”

Donnie looks like he’s about to say something, but changes his mind at the last minute. “I… okay. Just – yeah. Let me know. And don’t… stay up too late.”

Leo nods, and gets back to work.

He sleeps a little longer than usual. Two hours instead of one. It’s apparently still not enough, because he catches Raph eyeing him worriedly when he comes downstairs for coffee. But at this point, he’s in too deep to stop, so. He’ll sleep once he’s caught up with his schoolwork. 

Leo doesn’t see Splinter anywhere around, so he doesn’t bother with breakfast. It’d take too much time, and he has more important things to be doing.

There’s a knock on Leo’s door, and he jolts out of his current trance in a panic before he realizes it’s probably someone getting him for lunch. Or – well. More like dinner, because when he checks the time it’s apparently almost six in the evening and he’s been sitting here literally all day. And of course, once again, gotten a grand total of nothing done. Less than nothing, actually, because turns out everything he wrote last night was complete garbage and he had to delete most of it. 

“Come in,” he calls, unsteady. And, okay. Maybe he should’ve gotten up, like. Once. Whoops. He really doesn’t feel great right now, ha.

It’s Raph that opens the door this time, shifting awkwardly and looking at the floor.

“Dad sent me to get you,” he says, hand on the doorframe, and Leo’s anxiety ratchets up about five notches at the thought of what Splinter could’ve told Raph. “We’re eating soon and he wanted me to make sure you joined us? It’s – I know it’s none of Raph’s business, but… is everything okay, Leo?”

Leo’s smile has been putting in a lot of work the past few days. And if he has to go downstairs to dinner, it’ll be putting in even more. “Yeah, of course. Just a couple of assignments I need to work on, y’know how it is. I wanna get ‘em done before April comes back tomorrow.”

Ha. As if that’s going to happen. But Raph doesn’t need to know how far behind he actually is. Leo just needs to reassure him that he’s doing fine. 

“Oh.” Raph hesitates, then – “Anything I can help with?”

That’s sweet of him to offer. But Raph already has enough to deal with getting ready for college, figuring out where he’s going and how he’s gonna pay for it and all that stuff. Not something Leo’s looking forward to dealing with himself next year.

Though at this rate, he might not have to.

(... Maybe that would be better.)

“Nah,” Leo says, rather than voice any of that and worry Raph even a little. “It’s Chemistry. Thanks, though. I might ask Donnie for some help later, if I really can’t figure it out.”

Raph relaxes at that, finally turning to go. “Alright. Just… let Raph know if there’s anything he can do.”

“You got it, big guy,” Leo says with a thumbs up. He has absolutely no intention of doing that. Or asking Donnie for help, either. And he’d much rather not go to dinner, but it sounds like he kinda has to, or risk Splinter worrying unnecessarily. 

… Whatever. It’s not like he was getting anything done anyway. 

Dinner does not go down well. It’s not even anything super heavy – just cheeseburgers – but Leo ends up curled up in bed with a bucket, clutching his stomach, hoping desperately that he doesn’t actually throw up. He’s not sure how much of the nausea is due to the food and how much is due to the guilt and shame that crashes over him like a tidal wave. 

It’s like – he keeps having to choose. Between making his family happy and making his teachers happy. Except even then, he can’t manage to make anyone happy. If he chooses school, he can try all he wants to get something done but still end up with the same empty page at the end of the day. If he chooses his family, he ends up bent over a bucket for hours, waiting for dinner to come back up. And then Splinter ends up getting a call that Leo isn’t doing his homework and still worries.  

There’s no winning no matter what he does, so why does he even try if the outcome will be the same either way?

Maybe he’s just not cut out for any of this. 

Predictably, Leo doesn’t get any work done that night. He doesn’t sleep, either, even when he actually tries for once – tossing and turning, the nausea threatening to overtake him. It gets to the point where he almost wishes he would throw up, just to get it over with, but it never comes. 

By the morning, he's exhausted – even more than normal, and completely forgets that they're getting dinner with April today until Donnie brings it up. 

“Let me guess. Hawaiian?” Donnie says, a strain in his voice that Leo would've happily picked apart had he not been so damn tired. 

“Hm?” he asks, tilting his head. He's transcended the whole everything-is-too-much-all-the-time stage of sleep deprivation and is now firmly in the realm of my-body-is-a-shell-and-i-am-just-piloting-it. Which, unfortunately, kinda makes it hard to process things other people say. 

“Hawaiian, Nardo. Is that what you're ordering tonight?” Donnie sounds almost desperate. 

It takes Leo a minute to put together what he means by ‘tonight’, but he does. As evidenced by the way his stomach lurches with guilt and anxiety. 

Right. April. He's such a shitty brother he completely forgot she was coming today. And they're getting pizza. Which – normally Leo would love, but even if he feels better now, he doesn't know if eating something will bring the nausea back again. And he really doesn't want to lose his lunch in front of his whole family and every other patron and employee of Run of the Mill. 

Besides. The pizza is supposed to celebrate them all working hard in school. Leo very clearly does not qualify for that. 

He doesn't want to just – ditch. That would be even shittier than forgetting. But he knows if he does go, he'll be expected to eat something, or Splinter will worry. And he doesn't know if he can. 

(He definitely doesn't deserve to.)

“Leo?” Donnie says, and Leo realizes he hadn't responded yet. He shrugs. 

“Dunno.”

“I – are you still not feeling well? From last night?” Almost hopeful. Like Donnie wants that to be the reason very, very badly. Leo latches onto the excuse like a barnacle. 

“Yeah,” he says. Another shrug. “Sorry.”

Donnie shakes his head. “Don't – don't apologize, it's – are – do you think you'll still go tonight?”

Leo shakes his head. The guilt swims. Yet another instance of Leo letting people down. The list too long to count.

“That's – okay. April will be here all week, so it's not like you won’t have other chances to hang out with her. Just. Get some rest. If – do you want me to tell Papa?”

Leo nods. He’ll probably have to deal with the fallout either way, but at least this way he can avoid it for a little bit longer.

Leo fakes being asleep when Splinter comes in to check on him. He’s pretty sure it won’t fool him, but hopefully it’ll at least mean Leo can put the confrontation off until everyone gets back from dinner.

“Leonardo…” Splinter sighs, resting a hand on his head. Careful, like Leo is something precious, making him feel almost as sick as the cheeseburgers. A long silence, and then – “Please at least get some rest. We will speak when I return.”

Ah. Leo’s heart does a super-quick triple backflip, because Splinter might as well have said we need to talk, and that literally never means anything good. Never mind the conversation they had just the other day – clearly Splinter has changed his mind. Realized how much of an idiot Leo is. How he’s just deadweight, a failure, good for nothing but cutting loose.

He simmers in the dread, not even trying to get any work done – why bother when he knows he’ll just end up with the same blank page as always? – until there’s a knock at the door. Judgment day.

“C’mon in,” he says, voice partially muffled by the blankets wrapped around him. He should sit up and put on a brave face – whatever’s coming, he’s brought it on himself – but he’s a coward at heart. 

The door creaks open.

“Hey, Lee,” says a soft voice who is definitely not Leo’s dad. It startles him enough that he emerges from his cocoon of blankets to see April, looking back at him with concern he doesn’t deserve. “Splints said you weren’t feeling well. Everything okay?”

Leo could drown in the self-loathing he feels right now. He ditched dinner with April to lay at home and feel sorry for himself. He’s not even really sick. And still, here she is, asking if he’s okay. 

“Yeah, just leftover from when I got sick last night,” he says, injecting as much nonchalance as he can manage into his voice. So she won’t worry. So she’ll leave him to rot. “Sorry I missed dinner.”

April waves a hand. “It’s no big deal, we can hang out another time. I’m just sorry you missed out on Hueso’s pizza. We brought you back a slice of Hawaiian, though. Donnie complained about it the whole time, even though he was the one who brought it up in the first place.”

His stomach rolls at the thought. Hawaiian's his favorite. And Donnie knows that. Was thinking of him, ordered it even though Leo wasn't there, even though he didn't deserve it, even though Donnie hates Hawaiian. 

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to eat it. But he’d feel even more guilty throwing it away. What a waste, either way. 

“You didn’t have to come check on me,” he says, changing the subject. “Weren’t you gonna, like, hang out with Suni and Cass or something?”

“Suni was busy, but yeah, I’m hanging with Casey after this. But I wanted to come say hi!” Her expression softens. “I missed you, dude.”

“I missed you, too.” It’s a near-whisper. Barely audible enough for her to hear. Leo feels almost guilty saying it, for some reason. Like he shouldn’t get to miss her, or something. But she just smiles, and comes over to ruffle his hair. 

“I won’t keep you when you’re feeling like shit,” she says, and Leo is simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Selfish. So selfish, to want her to stay. “But I hope you know we are going to have a hangout and gossip sesh at some point this week. Whenever you’re free after school!”

“Yeah.” Leo actually wasn’t feeling all that nauseous anymore, but the thought of school brings it all back with a vengeance. God, he didn’t do shit today. And he has to go back tomorrow. With absolutely nothing to show for it.

He doesn’t think he’ll be much fun at that hangout. But he’d feel awful turning her down after he already skipped out on dinner, so. “I’m pretty sure I’m free tomorrow. And I should be over – this by then.”

He should be working. He knows he should. But it’s not like it’s gonna get done anyway. So. Whatever.

“Great!” April smiles, a big one that lights up her whole face. She ruffles his hair again, then steps back. “I really hope you feel better, Leo. Being sick sucks.”

“Yeah.” Like a broken record. April gives him another smile, and then she leaves.

And Leo curls back up and soaks in the shame.

Splinter comes in, not long after April leaves. He sits at the foot of Leo’s bed and doesn’t say anything. Leaving Leo to start the conversation, apparently. Great.

“So,” he says finally, once he’s worked up the courage. Not moving, still curled in a ball, heart in his throat. Not ready for whatever his dad is about to say. “How was dinner?”

“It went well,” Splinter says. “We missed having you there.”

Leo bites back a laugh. That’d be rude. And starting with a lie right off the bat, “I wish I could’ve come with.”

“Mm.” A silence, so long that Leo starts to get antsy. And then – “It is not often that you skip out on pizza. I am sorry to hear that you are ill, and I do not wish to doubt you, but I wonder – is that truly the reason you stayed at home tonight?”

Lovely little stomach lurch. The panic of: he knows. “I mean, yeah. I'd never skip out on pizza if I didn't have to. Like you said. And… I guess I kinda also wanted to work on my missing assignments, but I didn’t really get anything done since I was sick.”

There. Just enough truth injected in to be believable. Enough to throw Splinter off the scent, to placate him. It seems like it works, though Splinter certainly doesn’t seem happy about it, with the downturned corners of his mouth as he sighs. Add it to the pile.

“Alright. Please, please get some rest tonight, my son.” 

Splinter leans over and presses a kiss to Leo’s temple, letting it linger for a few moments. Leo is incredibly thankful that his face is mostly hidden, because he seriously can’t keep tearing up at the most basic expressions of affection.

“Goodnight,” Splinter says softly, and Leo hums in response, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

And then, Leo is alone again.

Leo doesn’t sleep that night. Again. But he also doesn’t work on his missing assignments. He’s… he’s kinda given up on those, honestly. Like, he knows it’s not going to happen. He’s too stupid, too lazy, to just do it. So he doesn’t even try.

But he doesn’t want to sleep. A sort of punishment, almost, for being such a total failure. If he can't even get the most basic of schoolwork done, he can't possibly deserve to rest. 

So he doesn’t do that, either. Just lays there, almost relishing in the shame and the guilt and the hunger and the bone-deep exhaustion.

He shuts his eyes and feigns sleep when Splinter comes in the next morning, allowing his dad to shake him gently and ‘wake him up’. Hoping he doesn’t give himself away.

“Leonardo,” Splinter says, and Leo turns like a flower towards the sun. “It is time to wake up.”

“Mm,” Leo says. He’s so tired. He doesn’t want to go to school. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. But he has to. Has to face the music. 

Slowly, with Splinter’s help, Leo climbs out of bed. Waits for Splinter to leave, then gets dressed, puts his makeup on to hide his horrific eye bags, and heads downstairs. Pastes on a smile, answers everyone’s questions and worries on autopilot. Yeah, he’s feeling much better. Yeah, he’s pretty sure something in the burgers just disagreed with him. No, he doesn’t need to miss school for it (even if part of him really fucking wants to). 

Shove a forkful of eggs in his mouth, so nobody worries. Chew. Swallow. Almost robotic in his motions. He doesn’t taste it at all, and only manages a few bites before he’s out of time and has to run to catch the bus.

Before he can get out the door, Splinter catches his arm. Turns Leo to face him, and presses his lunch box into his hands.

Ah.

“So that you don’t forget again,” Splinter explains, but even as tired as he is Leo can tell there’s more beneath that, a worry that's too deep to hide. 

Stupid. Leo’s fine. He doesn’t have problems with food, that’d be dumb. As dumb as Leo is. Ha.

Leo goes through the motions of thanking his dad, then runs out the door to the bus stop after his brothers.

Even after Leo has basically given up on getting any of his work done, he still finds himself walking in the direction of the library come lunchtime. And, hey. Why not? It’s quiet, and he can relax and not have to pretend to be a totally normal person who got a normal amount of sleep last night.

Just. One problem. No food allowed in the library. And he definitely can’t bring his lunch back home uneaten, Splinter would freak. So.

He dumps it out into a trash can when nobody’s looking, scraping the containers clean. The lunch his dad so lovingly packed just for him, lovingly pressed into his hands to make sure he ate today.

He doesn’t deserve it anyway.

Leo doesn’t remember much of school. He knows a few teachers tried to stop him and talk to him, and he knows they had some sort of conversations, but he can’t for the life of him remember what any of them were. Or, well – he can make a pretty good guess about the topic, because duh, but he has no clue about the details. 

More assignments that were due today. More assignments that are due tomorrow. Add them to the pile of disappointment. 

Leo goes home.

He fumbles his way through the hangout with April. Too guilty to cancel on her again. She definitely notices, though, and even through the haze he’s found himself in Leo can tell she’s worried. Because she’s a fucking angel of a sister and Leo doesn’t deserve her.

She tells him to get some sleep. Leo answers automatically: of course he will. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. 

She leaves, after extracting a promise from him to text her later. He remembers that much, at least.

He forgets to text, though. So. Add it to the pile.

Leo thinks he manages to sleep a little, that night. Not his intention, for sure, but he just – couldn’t help drifting off here and there. He’s still exhausted, and it definitely doesn’t help that he goes downstairs to see the coffee machine missing.

“... Huh?” he says stupidly, staring at where it was the day before.

“I told you I would hide it,” Donnie says, that same strain from days ago back in his voice. Leo is too far gone to even try to figure out what it means, though. Probably disappointment. That’s a safe bet. Add it to the pile.

He gets away with skipping breakfast, today, Splinter having left for work early, not there to make sure Leo eats. He does grab his lunch, just so he can throw it out later without his dad worrying. 

Once again, Leo barely processes anything that happens that day. Til he’s sitting in Chemistry, the teacher side-eyeing him, barely able to stay awake much less focus. Time blurs together. He’s so, so tired. Not having coffee is really fucking with him, making it even harder to stay awake. And his eyes are so

heavy. Maybe he could just –

Huh. 

Leo blinks, looks around. The room is completely empty except for him and the teacher, standing in front of his desk with folded arms and a stern expression.

… Shit.

“Um. Hi,” he says, too disoriented to put on his usual act. Too exhausted still, and too hungry – but in that sick kinda way where you can’t really tell if it’s actually sick or if you’re just so hungry you feel sick, and maybe he shouldn’t have thrown his lunch out after all, and.

And the teacher is talking to him.

“... really disappointed in you, Leonardo,” she says, sending Leo’s stomach plunging off the drop of a rollercoaster. “I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve offered you resources and extensions, but I just…”

She sighs, shakes her head.

“I’m going to need to see some actual effort from you, or I’m afraid I’m going to have to fail you.”

And something –

Snaps.

“I’m trying,” he bites out, despite being fully aware that it’s bullshit. He hasn’t tried since – fuck, he doesn’t know. Like, a week ago or something. If he's ever really tried at all, that is. But the words keep coming. “And you haven’t offered me anything, you just – you just keep telling me to work harder or whatever or, or just do it and I – I can’t! I'm too stupid and it's not that easy and you’re not being understanding you’re just being an asshole!”

The word rings in his ears as he stands there (when did he get up?), eyes wide, lungs heaving. Shit. Shit. Did he seriously just say that to a teacher? God, fuck, he’s gonna be in so much trouble, what the hell was he thinking, he needs to –

“Sorry,” he whispers, before she can open her mouth. “Sorry.”

And then he runs.

The rest of the day passes in a blur.

He doesn’t remember anything. Not school, not getting home. Not anything that happened after getting home. Maybe he ate something, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he snapped at his brothers, maybe he didn’t. Maybe Splinter yelled at him, told him he was worthless and an embarrassment to the family and to get out – maybe he didn’t.

Okay. Probably not. Even if he should've. Or Leo wouldn’t be here, in bed. Numb. 

He sits there, staring off into nothing, for the entire night.

Leo skips Chemistry. Some distant part of him feels guilty, like he should at least give her a proper apology, but. He can’t face her right now. Can’t look her in the eyes after he fell asleep in her class and then cursed her out. When she was just trying to help.

So he skips. And then he remembers that a lot of his classmates from Chemistry are also in History and would probably try to question him, so he skips that too. And then there’s only one more class, and it’s English, which has the other missing paper he still hasn’t done. So he just – leaves.

He just leaves.

There’s a corner store nearby. He’s going to need something to keep him fueled up now that the coffee machine has been taken from him. So he picks up two energy drinks, and then a small bag of chips just for good measure. For Dad's sake, and also because his stomach actually really hurts at this point, and he’s pretty sure that’s bad.

And then he gets on the bus and goes home.

He doesn’t manage to stay awake the whole night, even hopped up on energy drinks. Or maybe he just went through them way too quickly, and then crashed around four. And then he doesn’t wake up to his alarm, and Donnie has to shake him awake, and he has to skip breakfast or he’ll miss the bus, and –

Well.

At least he’s a little more awake today, even if barely.

Leo skips again. Can’t face his teachers, can’t face his classmates, and he knows in his gut that word has to have spread, so now his other teachers definitely know he’s a total failure who can’t even show up to class and curses out teachers and he can’t face them either. So he just skips school entirely. 

He realizes halfway to the corner store that maybe that was a really bad idea, actually, because Donnie will definitely notice that Leo wasn’t in gym. 

Maybe he can just say he was feeling sick. He kind of is, anyway, so it wouldn’t even really be a lie. The only part of it that wouldn’t be true would be the part where the sickness was physical and also not literally, entirely his own fault.

Whatever. It’s as good an excuse as any. Leo buys some more energy drinks (five, this time) and chips and then, with a whole day to kill, decides to just walk home.

Halfway there, his phone buzzes. Definitely Donnie, wondering where he is. But Leo kind of feels even more sick at the thought of his twin confronting him right now, so he ignores it. 

Leo makes it home. Doesn’t bother trying to be quiet, Splinter won’t be home for a few hours yet. Climbs the stairs to his room and sits there, staring off into nothing, until his brothers get home.

Donnie doesn’t bother knocking, instead just bursting into the room, eyes wide with panic. He untenses somewhat when he sees Leo, but still looks pretty freaked out, and it’s only then that Leo remembers he never texted him back. Shit.

“Where the hell were you?!” Donnie yells, and Leo winces. Double shit. Donnie’s mad mad. “I texted you and you never responded and I thought – I didn’t know what had happened, and then you weren’t at the bus and – and – what the fuck, Leonardo?”

Leo opens his mouth. Finds he has nothing to say. His silver tongue finally failing him. Too fucking exhausted to come up with the right words to soothe his twin. 

He shrugs instead. “Sorry. Meant to text you. Forgot.”

“I –” Donnie cuts himself off, shakes his hands out in frustration. God, Leo fucked up so bad. But like, what else is new? Can't make his teachers happy. Can't make his family happy. Can't make anyone happy. What is he even good for? “Did you at least get lunch? Anything?”

“Duh,” Leo says. It’s not a lie, really. He had the chips earlier, his stomach growling too much to wait any longer. It means he won’t have any left to eat later, but that’s fine. He’ll live.

“Okay.” Donnie relaxes, if only just a bit. “Okay. I – don’t – don’t scare me like that again. And go to class tomorrow! Or at least text me if you’re staying home!”

“I will.” Leo gives a thumbs up, too tired for anything else.

“Right,” Donnie says. “I – right. I’ll… see you for dinner in a few hours.”

And he leaves.

Splinter comes up to get him for dinner. Leo hasn’t moved. He hums in response to the knock, letting his dad know he can come in.

“Leonardo,” Splinter says, and whatever part of Leo isn’t fully disconnected from reality recognizes that Splinter is not happy. Which. Is totally fair. Leo isn't happy with himself either. “I… received another call from school today. They said you didn’t show up at all, and you missed several classes yesterday as well.”

“Mhm,” Leo says. “Sorry. Didn’t feel good.”

“I understand,” Splinter says slowly. “However, in the future, if you don’t feel well, please, just… let me know, so I can tell the school you’re sick. It doesn’t have to be a physical sickness, either, just. Please, please tell me.”

“Yeah.” Leo's throat feels tight. He needs Splinter to leave, before he starts crying again, but if it's time for dinner Splinter probably won't leave until Leo comes downstairs with him. So. He gets up, carefully avoiding his dad’s eyes. “I just – need to use the bathroom real quick, and I'll be down.”

Splinter nods. “I understand. I will see you in a few minutes.”

And then he leaves. 

There's a part of Leo that's tempted to just – get back in bed. Not go downstairs, not have to face his family, too scared to look them in the eyes. He knows they'll have questions, and he's too tired to field them properly. And the thought of eating, allowing himself the nourishment of food lovingly prepared by his amazing little brother when Leo can't even do something as simple as show up to school, makes him nauseous all over again. 

But he knows if he does, Splinter will just come back up and get him, and he doesn't want to deal with that, either. 

So. 

Leo lets himself have a few minutes to pull himself together as much as he can, and then he goes downstairs for dinner. 

He eats. 

He doesn't have much of a choice, with Splinter watching him like a hawk the whole time. Dinner is uncomfortably quiet, and Leo knows that's his fault. Duh. Obviously. Congratulations, Mr. Family Fuckup, you've done it again. Here's your prize: the clanging of the silverware assaulting your overly sensitive hearing. 

Leo takes it and holds it close. Focuses on the almost physical pain and overwhelm. If he's being forced to eat, he'll just have to punish himself another way. 

Donnie stops by, like clockwork. Wringing his hands, the anxiety visible on his face even to Leo's exhausted brain. “Please – please sleep tonight, Nardo. Please. I'll – is there something you want? Something I can – can build for you or – anything –”

Leo thinks about the energy drinks hidden under his bed. “I'm gonna sleep, Tello, don't freak out. You worry way too much.”

“I think I worry just enough,” Donnie says. “You're – the way you're acting is –”

He cuts himself off. But it's clear he still has something to say, so Leo doesn't speak yet. Heart in his throat. What does Donnie know?

Finally, Donnie speaks again, voice smaller than it ever should be. “I just – you're my only twin, Leo. I can't lose you.”

The laugh comes out before Leo can stop it. He tracks its trajectory across the room, how it lodges right in Donnie's heart, the wounded noise he makes. Yet another reason why Leo is a horrible person. Add it to the pile. 

“You're not gonna lose me,” Leo says, and even to himself his voice sounds so off. Like he's someone else pretending to be Leo. He doesn't know if Donnie can hear it too. He hopes not. “I'm just tired, Dee. Like, I've been kinda stressed over some stuff at school, I guess, but it's not a big deal. I’m handling it.”

“Are you?” Donnie asks, and it's almost automatic, the way Leo bites back. 

“Yes,” he says, not quite angry but something else. Defensive, maybe, even though he knows Donnie's right. “And even if I wasn't, I sure as hell wouldn't ask for your help. So fuck off.”

It hangs in the air between them, the horrible words Leo really, really didn't mean. But it's too late to take them back. Donnie's expression closes off, and he backs through the door. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, pausing just outside. “But if you change your mind, I'm here. I love you, Nardo.”

And then, before Leo even has a chance to respond, the door is closed. And Donnie is gone. 

Leo knows he's not going to school today before his alarm even goes off. He can't. He still hasn't slept, and he's jittery from the energy drinks, and he's starving, and he has so many overdue assignments and his teachers are mad at him and he hurt Donnie and he just keeps fucking up no matter what and he just – he can't. He can't. 

He should tell Splinter and just stay home. Splinter even said it was fine. But Leo's way too ashamed to look his dad in the eye, so he chokes down a few bites of breakfast and gets on the bus. 

Donnie won't look at him. Part of Leo desperately wants to apologize, but the words stick in his throat. He doesn't want to air out his fuckups in front of Raph, in front of Mikey, in front of everyone on the bus, so he stays silent and waits for the ride to end. 

And the first chance he gets once they arrive at school, he slips away and starts the hour long walk home.

He doesn't bother stopping by the corner store this time. 

Halfway home, Leo stalls. Standing by the side of the road, staring off into nothing, his new favorite activity. Better than staring at a blank page. Or maybe worse. At least there he can actually pretend he's doing something worthwhile. 

He might as well just fully admit it at this point. He's not getting any of that work done. It would be almost freeing if not for the impossibly heavy weight of self-loathing draped over his shoulders, that only gets heavier with each new fuckup. He really can't do anything right. The look on his teacher’s face after he yelled at her. The look on Donnie’s face before he left last night. All Leo does is ruin everything.

What can he even do now? He can't go back. The thought of trying to return to school makes him feel sick, the thought of going home and telling Splinter how badly he's failed, even more so. He's trapped, no good options left open to him. Nowhere to run. The pile too tall to add anything else, towering above him, ready to fall and bury him alive. The only way to fix it to burn it down entirely and start from scratch.

Staring off into nothing. A lone car whizzes by. Eyes drawn to it, the rush of wind, blowing his hair out of his face. The car is gone, and his eyes are left staring at the yellow strip in the center of the empty road, following it off into infinity. 

Donnie’s face before he left. Donnie’s words echoing in his head. If you change your mind, I’m here. Even after Leo hurt him. 

Numb, Leo turns away from the road and walks home.

Once again, Leo gets home and beelines for his room, climbing into bed and hiding under the covers. Carefully avoiding thinking about his walk home, heart pounding way too fast in his chest at the memory.

He knows what’s going to happen. The school will call Splinter again. Splinter will come in and talk to Leo. And Leo, because he only knows how to do one thing, will reassure Splinter that everything is fine. That he thought he could handle school, but felt sick and decided to come home. That he’ll go back tomorrow. Or Monday, maybe. Leo can’t keep track of the days anymore. 

And the same thing will happen, inevitable, because Leo is incapable of change. He’ll go to school. He’ll walk home. He’ll stop by the side of the road. Again and again and again until –

Leo loses track of time. Doesn’t bother coming out of his blankets to check his phone when it buzzes. It doesn’t matter. 

Eventually Splinter comes home. Comes upstairs. Knocks at Leo’s door, waits for a response, gets none. Leo is so tired. 

The door opens and there’s a weight at the foot of Leo’s bed. Silence.

Leo isn’t going to make the first move.

“My son,” Splinter says, after who knows how long. Voice rough. “Is there a reason you felt you could not tell me that you needed to stay home today?”

Leo shrugs, lethargic. Then remembers Splinter can’t see him. It takes a minute for him to work up to speaking, and all he gets out is, “Dunno.”

A sigh. 

“That is alright.” Splinter sounds so immeasurably sad, and Leo doesn’t know why. He’s not worth it. “If you feel you want to tell me, I will be here.”

Even if he wanted to, Leo doesn’t think he would know how.

Leo doesn’t remember falling asleep. But when he wakes up, true to Splinter’s word, that weight on the end of his bed is still there.

Except when Leo pokes his head out, it’s not Splinter sitting there.

It’s Donnie.

Sitting there, knees pulled up to his chest, utterly silent. Leo’s stomach lurches at the sight, the guilt too much to bear. Instinctively, he starts to burrow back under cover again, but Donnie looks over at him and he freezes. 

“You skipped school again,” Donnie says, quiet. It’s not a question, but Leo nods anyway. Doesn’t know what to say. Heart in his throat. He can’t fix this, he doesn’t know how.

Donnie stays silent, waiting for Leo to speak. Until he seems to realize Leo isn’t going to, and then he sighs. “I thought I asked you to text me if you were going to stay home.”

“Yeah,” Leo says. He hadn’t thought Donnie would care that much, after last night. That’s on him. As usual. Add it to the pile.

He doesn’t know how much more the pile can take.

Donnie shifts, fidgets with his hands in his lap. Staring at the wall across from him, not meeting Leo’s eyes. “And?”

Leo shrugs. He doesn’t have anything more to say about that. 

He knows what Donnie wants him to say. An apology, a promise that he’ll text next time, or that he won’t skip school at all. That he’ll be better. 

Leo thinks he’s given up on being better.

“Okay.” Donnie lets out a measured breath. Eyes closed, careful. Like he’s trying to stay calm. Leo wishes Donnie would just snap at him, if that’s what he’s holding back. Just let him have it. Please. “Okay. So you stayed home and you didn’t text me and – and you won’t ask for help and you’re barely eating and I –”

Donnie cuts off, shakes his head. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. And if that isn’t just the worst thing Donnie could possibly say. “I don’t want to push too hard. But I’m afraid that if I don’t, one of these days you – I’ll get home and. And you won’t be here.”

A yellow line in the middle of the road. Endless, empty. Leo shrugs.

“What’s – what does that mean?” Donnie sounds dangerously close to crying, yet another way Leo’s hurt him. 

“Dunno,” Leo whispers. He doesn’t know how to fix this anymore. He doesn’t know if he ever did. He wishes – “Why won’t you give up on me?”

Ah.

He didn’t mean to say that.

It’s too much to hope Donnie didn’t hear. His huge, terrified eyes and shaking hands are enough that Leo knows he did.

“Wh –” Donnie’s voice breaks off. He swallows. Tries again. “Why would – why would I give up on you?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. Leo laughs, harsh and biting. Isn’t it obvious? “I’m stupid.”

The core of all of this. It feels good to finally say it. But Donnie reels back like he’d been slapped.

“I – you’re not – Nardo, what are you talking about? If you’re – if school is giving you trouble, you know I’m more than happy to help if you need it, so –”

And Leo is so tired. Of everything, really. But especially of everyone pretending there’s nothing wrong with him. That he’s not the family failure. That they wouldn’t be better off without him.

Sleep deprived and hungry, unthinking, Leo snaps. “School isn’t the problem, Tello, and you know it. I am. I’m too – too fucking stupid to absorb anything, why would you waste your time on trying to help me? I’m too lazy to write two measly pages for a paper that’s been overdue for almost two weeks now, I have a thousand other assignments I’ll never get done, I can’t focus enough to figure out even the most basic shit, I can’t –”

“Leo, stop –”

“No, you stop!” Leo is so far from done, barreling down the highway at breakneck speed, the gas pedal jammed down to the floor. Everything is way too much, the heat rising to his face, tears in his eyes, out of bed and pacing because he can’t stand being still right now. “C’mon, this can’t possibly be news. You’re the smart one, I’m the stupid one. That’s literally how it’s always been. Are you seriously surprised? You haven’t – you haven’t had a thousand people coming up to you in the hallways with, like, condolences for the fact that you got stuck with me as a twin? I’m the one holding you back, if I wasn’t here –”

“LEO!”

Leo stops.

Donnie’s breathing heavy, eyes wide, looking absolutely horrified even through the blur of Leo’s tears. And. And. Maybe Leo shouldn’t have said some of that. Maybe that was a bit much, he shouldn’t have put that on Donnie, should’ve left it unsaid. It’s all stuff they both know anyway. 

Or Leo thought it was.

“Leo, what – what are you saying? You don’t actually – or – no, of course you do. Of course you do.” Donnie takes a shaky breath, reaches out. Breaking the space between them, the neutral ground, and Leo turns to bolt like a scared deer but –

Hm. Okay. So maybe Donnie has a teeny tiny point, because Leo may have just. Blacked out a little. Just for, like, a second, but when he comes to Donnie’s hand is around his wrist, locked tight so he can’t escape. Fuck.

Donnie leads him back to the bed and sits him down, keeping ahold of his wrist the whole time. Like he thinks Leo will run if he gets the chance.

… He’s not wrong. Now that the adrenaline has worn off a bit, the realization of everything Leo just said is setting in, and the humiliation with it. Holy shit. Holy shit. What the hell was he thinking? Just – laying all of that out between them, like it was nothing. And now, because Donnie won’t let go, he has to deal with the fallout.

“You’re not stupid,” Donnie starts off, and Leo scoffs. “No, shut up, I’m talking now. I mean it. I know this probably sounds odd coming from me, but the American schooling system is bullshit and is not an indicator of intelligence. I have a ten-page list of improvements I could – no, okay, not the time. My point is: your achievements in school are not an accurate measure of success. And asking for help is not a sign of weakness. I am more than happy to help you, and I don’t look down on you for needing the help. I… I thought I had made that clear, but apparently not. So I’m saying it now.”

Leo’s crying even more now, the tears streaming down his face and he hates crying, hates not having control over the way people see him, hates how gross it is, snot dripping and he only has one hand free to wipe his face off with and it’s not enough. It never is, Leo is never enough but Donnie’s still here. Moving his grip down from Leo’s wrist to link their hands together, tight enough that Leo knows he won’t be able to escape but still so, so much gentler than Leo could ever deserve.

And the floodgates open again, whether Leo likes it or not, words pouring out through gasps and hiccups and great heaving sobs that he can’t control. “That’s – that’s not it. Or not – just it, I – I can’t – I can’t do anything, it’s – I just sit there because I – I’m lazy and stupid and I can’t – I can’t – I just stare at the – the page and never even start. And it’s – it just piles up, I have so much I – I have to do, and it’s – it’s never gonna happen. I can’t do it. And that’s not – that’s not something other people have – have to deal with. So the problem is – is me.” 

“Hm.” Donnie takes in the mess of what Leo just said, turns the words over in his head, mouth pressed thin in a frown. Finally – “That… that also doesn’t make you stupid. Or lazy, or whatever else you’re thinking. It’s – well. I have a suspicion, and some things I think may actually help. And if they don’t, we can try other things, until we find something that does. But we can talk about that later. I…”

Donnie pauses, and Leo’s stomach drops. He has a feeling he really isn’t gonna like whatever Donnie says next.

And then, small, almost scared: “Do you really think you hold me back? Or – or that it would be better if you weren’t here?”

An uncomfortable jolt. He really, really shouldn’t have said that. Not that it’s not true, but. Saying it out loud is something else entirely.

He tries to speak, to refute Donnie, to say he didn’t mean it, but the words won’t come out. Stuck in his throat, clogged with tears and mucus. So he just shakes his head, knowing Donnie won’t believe him for a second but not knowing what else to do.

“Leo,” Donnie whispers, and Leo flinches back. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Please don’t make him.

The silence stretches on. Leo doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. And finally, Donnie speaks again.

“I want you to know that none of that is true. I – you’re my twin, Leo. I love you more than anything in the world, and I’d be utterly lost without you. But I also – I am not equipped to… to handle this properly. So I’m going to get Dad. Will you stay here?”

Leo considers running. Because he really doesn’t want to have that conversation, not now, not ever. He doesn’t want to deal with it, with knowing that they know and having to face that. But. But.

He’s so, so tired. And even if he runs now, Donnie and Splinter will track him down later. It’ll just be delaying the inevitable. 

Leo is so tired. He just wants to rest.

He nods.

Donnie scans his face for a moment, trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or not. Whatever he finds seems to be good enough for him, and he lets go after one last squeeze of Leo’s hand. Hesitant, like he’s scared to take his eyes off Leo even for a second, Donnie backs away, and closes the door behind him.

It takes a while for Splinter to come upstairs. The whole time Leo is imagining worst-case scenarios, what Donnie is telling Splinter, what Splinter is going to say, how disappointed in Leo he’s going to be. Contemplating running, even though he said he wouldn’t.

He doesn’t.

Finally, there’s footsteps on the stairs, and a knock at the door. Leo, having bundled himself in blankets, hunched over himself, calls out for Splinter to come in.

“Oh, my sweet baby Blue,” is the first thing out of Splinter’s mouth when he walks in, expression heartbroken. And Leo proves that he had not, in fact, cried himself out of tears like he’d thought.

“Papa,” Leo cries out, choked, arms outstretched like he’s a little kid again. There’s no hesitation before his dad gathers him into his arms, and Leo sobs. 

There’s nothing else. No words, outside of Splinter whispering comfort to him, Leo too caught up in his tears to manage anything resembling speech. Nothing exists but the two of them. The world could be ending outside and Leo wouldn’t notice or care. His dad has him.

Leo feels so small in Splinter’s arms. And he’s so tired, and he’s so hungry. He just wants this to be over but he doesn’t know how. It hurts. It hurts so bad, both inside and out, like Leo’s heart is locked in a vice grip and his lungs are being squeezed too tight to bear and he can’t breathe, overwhelmed, scared. He doesn’t know what to do, just that he can’t do this anymore. 

Leo cries and cries and cries until he can’t anymore, and that’s when Splinter finally pulls back, cradling Leo’s face in his hands despite how utterly disgusting it is right now, with all the tears and snot everywhere. Like Leo is something precious. Like Leo is something dear. 

“Dad,” Leo says, involuntary, as Splinter thumbs a stray tear away. There’s not an ounce of disappointment on his face, just unconditional, overflowing love, and Leo has to squeeze his eyes shut because it hurts to look at. Like the sun, blinding bright and painful.

“Leonardo,” Splinter responds, and Leo closing his eyes does nothing to block out the love in Splinter’s voice. He doesn’t deserve it. And he tries to say that, because if everyone already knows what Leo said to Donnie then he might as well go all in, but Splinter shushes him before he can speak.

“No, you have had your chance to speak. I do not want to hear whatever lies your mind is telling you right now. You do not have to look, but I want you to listen to me, because I am very old and therefore I know everything and am always right. Yes?”

A choked laugh. Leo nods. What else can he do?

“I know Donatello has already told you – correctly – that you are not stupid. But I want you to know that even if you failed every single test, every single assignment, even if you dropped out entirely and did nothing at all for the rest of your life, that would not matter to me one bit. You are my son, and I love you. There is nothing in the entire world that can change that. Do you understand?”

It feels undeserved, impossible. Too much to comprehend. He doesn’t understand, because it doesn’t make sense. Leo is supposed to make his dad proud. How could Splinter ever be proud of nothing?

Still, he nods, because he knows it’s what Splinter wants to hear. See. Whatever. 

Splinter hums, and even without looking Leo can tell that he doesn’t believe him for a second. “It is alright if not. We will work on it. For now, do you think you could do something very small for your dear old papa?”

Leo would do just about anything for his dad. He nods again. Of course. Of course.

“Would you have just a couple of bites of your Hawaiian pizza? Michelangelo has heated it up for you.”

And.

Oh.

The stomach lurch, the crush of shame. He doesn’t deserve it. The pizza is for those who are working hard in school. Leo hasn’t been working at all. 

He shakes his head, almost automatic. Before he can think to stop himself. Such a small thing, and he can't even do that much. Splinter hums, quiet, and all Leo can think is that this has to be the moment. This has to be when Splinter finally realizes Leo can’t be saved. 

But instead, Splinter just says, as gentle as ever, “That is alright. Something else, then? There are other leftovers, or, if you do not mind waiting a bit longer, I have no doubt Michelangelo would be happy to cook something up for you.”

Another thing he doesn’t deserve. Mikey cooking something just for him? What a waste.

But. Maybe he can do something else. A compromise. 

“Leftovers,” he manages, cracking an eye open just in time to see Splinter nod.

“Very well. Leftovers it is.”

Splinter waits, far too patient, for Leo to clean his face off. He knows full well that Raph and Mikey have to already know at least the basics, so it shouldn't really matter if they see him like this. But he wants to at least try and keep what little shreds of dignity he has left.

They leave the room, Leo trailing behind Splinter only to find Donnie waiting right outside the door. Entirely unintentionally jumpscaring Leo, sending him rocking back to almost hit his head on the doorframe. It’s so utterly ridiculous and Leo is still so emotionally fragile that he can’t help but burst into hysterical laughter, doubling over and trying in vain to catch his breath while Splinter and Donnie watch in probably-concern.

Finally, Leo manages to recover, and once Splinter has given Donnie a bit of a talking to for listening in, the three of them finish heading downstairs.

Raph and Mikey are waiting in the living room, expressions nervous, though they perk up a bit when they see Leo. And just like that, any trace of the humor from a moment ago is gone, guilt flooding in to take its place. He doesn’t know what, exactly, they know, but. He’s made them worry about him. Over nothing. 

“Leo has decided on other leftovers,” Splinter announces, and Mikey bounces to his feet and runs into the kitchen without a second thought. More guilt, because even if Mikey isn’t making something special for him, it’s still effort to heat something up. Even if not much.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Raph says, and Leo startles at the sound of his voice. A fist, gentle as can be, bonks the top of his head, and Leo automatically screws up his face like the overdramatic little brother he is. 

“Quit it,” he grumbles, carefully avoiding addressing Raph’s words. Raph opens his mouth to speak again, but thankfully is cut off by Mikey poking his head back in.

“Is spaghetti okay?” he asks, and Leo slowly nods. It doesn’t really matter what the food is, as long as it doesn’t cause Mikey too much trouble to prepare. And as long as it’s not the pizza. 

But. Plain is probably better. He thinks of the cheeseburgers and shudders.

Mikey brings the spaghetti into the living room and sets it carefully in front of Leo. Fidgets for a moment, and then, “It’s okay if you can’t eat all of it. Just – just a couple bites.”

Leo nods, because he already agreed anyway. He twirls the fork Mikey’d brought around, gathering up spaghetti, and lifts it to his lips. And.

“... Can you guys quit staring at me?” he asks, and then immediately feels bad about it. But it’s just. He feels so self-conscious with everyone watching him. It’s awkward.

Nobody seems to mind, at least, and they all turn away. That’s almost just as bad, because it’s so obvious what they’re doing, but. At least their eyes are off him.

He takes a bite. 

It doesn’t… taste like much of anything. Even though he knows it should. It feels almost mechanical, the chewing, the swallowing. Uncomfortable, like he has to remind himself how to do it. 

But he finishes the bite, and takes another.

And then a third, and then –

“You don’t have to force yourself,” Mikey says, and Leo pauses with the fork halfway to his mouth. He doesn’t know what expression he was making, but apparently it wasn’t a happy one, for Mikey to assume –

Well. Okay. He kinda was forcing himself.

Already feeling guilty, he sets the fork back down and lets Mikey take the plate back into the kitchen. And then he comes back in, and once again, everyone is staring at Leo. Eugh.

“Haha, c’mon, guys,” Leo says, his automatic instinct to play it off kicking in. “I know I love being the center of attention, but this is a – a bit much.”

Nobody says anything, they just. Exchange glances with each other. Finally, Donnie speaks up. “Is… is it alright if April comes over? I – I haven’t told her anything beyond that something happened and we were helping you, but she is on standby.”

More guilt, with a healthy serving of anxiety on top. Leo really doesn’t want even more people to witness his utter humiliation, stripped down to the core and flayed alive. And he certainly doesn’t think April should’ve put whatever plans she had tonight on hold on the off chance Leo wanted her here.

But she’ll have to find out eventually. If he’s gotta do this, he might as well get it over with all at once. And if she sees what’s underneath the mask he wears, realizes that he’s the furthest thing from having it all together and decides she hates him, well.

It’s nothing less than what he deserves anyway.

“Okay,” he says finally, quiet. The word is barely out of his mouth before Donnie is pulling out his phone and texting at the speed of light. A moment later, he sets it aside and announces, “She’ll be over in ten minutes.”

April lives ten minutes away. So she must’ve been really really on standby, like, one foot out the door level, which just makes Leo feel even worse. 

He’s careful not to show it, though. He doesn’t want Raph bonking him again.

Leo hears April before he sees her, which is honestly pretty par for the course. Outside the door, loudly announcing her presence as she fumbles with the key Splinter gave her years ago, before she bursts in and sets eyes on Leo.

It’s like a spotlight, shining directly on him. Up on stage, where he has to give the greatest performance of his life. But it doesn’t last long, because April’s barely through the door before she drops everything she’s holding and sprints over to wrap him in a hug.

It’s automatic, the way Leo’s arms go up and around her, clenching and unclenching his fists before he cautiously settles his hands on her back. Like she’d break if he held her too tight. The most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, because April O’Neil is unbreakable. And yet. 

“Thank you,” April says, muffled into his shoulder, so out of the blue that for a moment Leo just sits there, baffled.

“For what?” he asks finally, unsure. Scared. What could she possibly have to thank him for when all he’s done lately is ruin everything?

“Letting us help you.” 

It’s an arrow straight to the heart, and Leo can’t stop his gasp at the words, tears he thought he’d run out of welling up despite his best efforts. Unexpected, devastating. It’s too much to bear, and Leo doesn’t know what to do with it, so he doesn’t do anything. 

There’s a quiet sniffle, and then Mikey joins the hug, saving Leo from having to think about April’s words any further. And then Splinter, and then Donnie, and then Raph wraps his arms around all of them, pulling them close. And Leo’s definitely crying again, but he’s pretty sure everyone else is, too, so… maybe, just this once, it’s okay.

Leo would be perfectly happy to stay in the hug forever. But, unfortunately, he has to face the music eventually. So he pulls back, little by little, and everyone else takes the cue and starts extracting themselves. They still end up in a bit of a tangle, sat on the floor in a not-quite circle, and Leo is grateful for the contact. Less so knowing he’ll probably lose it in a few minutes, but still.

“Okay,” he says, throat hoarse from all the crying. “So. How much… how much does everybody know?”

The others all exchange looks, clearly uncomfortable. Which. Yeah. Leo is too. He gets it. 

Finally, Mikey speaks up. “Not a lot, just that it was – bad. And that something happened to do with school.”

Leo sits with that for a moment. On the one hand, April and Raph and Mikey don't actually know everything, which is good. On the other hand, that means he has to tell them. Unless Splinter or Donnie does it for him, but he wouldn't dare ask for something like that. 

“Is – do you want –” Leo struggles, and thankfully it's enough for his family to get the gist. 

“Only as much as you’re comfortable telling,” April says. “If that’s nothing, that’s fine.”

Leo blinks. Surely it can’t be that easy. He doesn’t have to talk about it? At all? He voices his confusion, and April bites her lip.

“Well – you’ll probably have to talk about it to someone, just so they know how to help you. But I don’t need details to know that you were suffering, Leo. So if you don’t want to talk about it right now, you don’t have to.”

And. Oh.

Part of Leo is grateful for the reprieve. But most of him just wants to get it over with. She deserves to know how fucked up he is, so she can make the decision whether she really wants to stay or not.

And yet, when he opens his mouth, the words stick in his throat. He looks away, ashamed.

Donnie, because he’s known Leo since birth and – despite what he likes to say – does have some sort of twin-sense, speaks up. “Do you want to talk about it, Nardo?”

Leo nods, tiny and quick, relieved that someone else said it for him. Though he doesn’t know if want is the right word, exactly. But he knows he should.

April softens, and she reaches over to rub his back. “That’s okay too. It doesn’t have to be right now, if you need some time. None of us are going anywhere.”

This time, Leo does manage to get some words out, croaking, “But – you have to – school.”

It takes a minute for April to figure out what he meant by that, but her expression saddens. “It’s the weekend, baby. Today’s Friday. I don’t leave til Sunday.”

… Oh.

Leo… hadn’t realized. Or – okay, he vaguely remembers thinking something earlier about – he’d say he would go back to school Monday, or something like that. But he hadn’t been sure, even then. Time has felt so – so weird lately, Leo hadn’t even known what day it was. 

And April isn’t leaving. He – honestly, Leo’s kinda convinced that she should. Still feels like a failure, no matter what Donnie and Splinter said. 

But she’s not. For better or for worse. 

They have dinner, at some point. Well – Leo has a few more bites of spaghetti, and everyone else has dinner. A casserole April’s mom made, for April to bring over. It looks good, but Leo isn’t sure he could stomach it right now.

They save some for him anyway.

And then they all pile back into the living room. Unspoken, Mikey heads to his room to start grabbing pillows, while Donnie takes care of the blankets. Splinter, April, and Raph all stay with Leo, sat on the couch and trying not to cry again. They haven’t had a pile in – in years, Leo is pretty sure.

It doesn’t take long to get set up, Raph taking charge of building the little nest in the center of the floor. Big enough for all of them to spread out comfortably, including April and Splinter, but everyone ends up circled around Leo. A hand on his arm, a leg across his ankles. Donnie holds his hand, like he’s scared Leo will disappear in the night if he doesn’t. 

Leo is so tired. He just wants to rest. And maybe, for right now, it’s okay to let himself.

He drifts off, surrounded by his family.

Leo, for the first time in two weeks, sleeps through the night.

He wakes up warm. 

An arm thrown over him. A brother pressed close. A hand in his. More content than he’s felt since the beginning of this whole mess. 

It’s almost enough that he forgets – everything. Almost.

Leo lays there, as quiet as he can be, breathing slow. Trying to calm himself down when the anxiety spikes, telling him he shouldn’t have slept, he doesn’t deserve it –

“Can hear you thinkin’,” comes a sleepy murmur to his left. Donnie, forehead pressed against his shoulder. “Stoppit.”

There’s a joke somewhere in there about twin telepathy, but it evades Leo. Still too tired, even after a full night of sleep.

“Trying,” he says instead, keeping quiet so he doesn’t wake anyone else. “Sorry.”

Donnie smacks his arm, no force behind it. “Don’t. No sorries. Not your fault.”

“Mm.” Leo could very easily debate that, but. He drops it, not wanting to argue first thing in the morning.

And then: “Do you remember yesterday, when I said I had a suspicion of something?”

Leo thinks about it. A lot of people had said a lot of things yesterday. But that does sound vaguely familiar, so he nods. 

“I didn't… want to say it in front of everyone,” and oh, that's not a good sign. “Or at least, not unless you're comfortable with that. But I – back when I first got diagnosed, I looked up a lot of resources to learn about autism. Which… wasn't always the best idea, considering some of the bullshit that's out there, but I digress. My point is: there were multiple resources that didn't just talk about autism. And one of the things I saw mentioned a lot, and therefore learned about as well, was ADHD.”

Donnie pauses, letting Leo process all that. And Leo is grateful for it, because it's. It's a lot. Especially considering, from the context of the conversation, it sounds a lot like – “Are you saying you think I have that?” 

Donnie hums softly. “I am in no way equipped to give a diagnosis. But from what I read, and from what you've said, it… it seems possible, at least.”

Another moment where Leo tries to process that. Slot it in alongside his knowledge of himself. It kinda makes his gut twist, and he can't tell quite yet if it's in a good way or not. “So there's a reason I'm so –”

“Nardo, if you call yourself stupid one more time, so help me –” It's louder than it probably should be, and Raph stirs a bit before settling back down. 

“I wasn't gonna,” Leo lies. “Just – there's a reason I'm… like this?”

“Again, if it is true, then yes,” Donnie says. “Or – that's poorly worded. I don't mean to imply that if it's not true, all this –” And he waves a hand in Leo's general direction. “– is somehow your fault. It's not, no matter what. Just – it's one possible explanation.”

“Huh.” Leo isn't sure what, exactly, to think. The thought that it's not just him that feels like this, that other people have the same struggles he does, that he's not alone, is – is something he's never really considered before. He doesn't know how to process it. 

“And,” Donnie says, because he's apparently not done yet. “If it is ADHD, there are – there are medications you can take, and things you can do. To help make it easier. If – if you want.”

Leo turns over the idea in his mind. He's not, like, one of those people who think medication is – is bad, or whatever. An addiction, or cheating, or whatever it is that kind of people like to say. Hell, he's pretty sure Splinter is even on something, though he doesn't know exactly what. And that's fine. There's nothing wrong with it. 

But it feels – it feels different when it's him. Like he shouldn't need it. Like it would make him lesser. The idea that he'd need help to be able to function the way normal people do.

Or something. 

It doesn't matter right now, Leo tells himself. Donnie's just saying it's a possibility, is all. Nothing more. 

“I'll… I'll think about it,” he says, and Donnie nods. 

“Okay. We – we can talk to Dad later about an evaluation, maybe, but that can wait if you want.”

“Yeah,” Leo says, quiet. 

And the two of them fall silent again. Just existing in the same space.

Slowly, the others wake up. Yawning, stretching, each of them reaching for Leo like they’re trying to make sure he’s still there. Guilt pools in the pit of his stomach – making them worry again over nothing – and it earns him another smack from Donnie, because jokes aside, his twin always seems to just know when he starts spiraling. 

They all get up, take turns with the bathroom. Mikey makes eggs. Leo gets three whole bites in before his stomach lets him know it’s had enough, thank you.

And then they gather in the living room again. Circled around the pillow nest, because if Leo is going to have to bare his soul, he at least wants to be comfortable doing it.

“So,” he says finally, when he really can’t put it off any longer. Donnie shuffles over to press against his side, slipping a hand into his and squeezing. It feels like, I’m on your side. 

Leo doesn’t really think he deserves that. But he has it anyway.

Now a new problem arises, which is: Leo has no fucking idea where to start. Like, the fact that he’s behind in school? The fact that he hasn’t been eating or sleeping? The self-loathing? He doesn’t really want to talk about any of those things. Part of him is tempted to just – take it back. Say he changed his mind, he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and –

Donnie clears his throat. Catching Leo’s attention, and Leo looks over to find Donnie looking back. Raising an eyebrow, and despite no words passing between them, Leo knows what Donnie is asking. 

He nods.

“Yesterday, Leo said some very concerning things,” Donnie announces, and. Fuck, Leo is already regretting this. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his face in them so he doesn’t have to see his family’s expressions when Donnie says all this. “That he is behind in school, which is honestly the least important thing on the list. But I believe it is the source of – of all this. So I am leading with it. That he thinks he is stupid, and lazy, and holding me back, and –”

Donnie chokes up, cuts off. Part of Leo really hopes he just – ends it there. He doesn’t want everything he said laid out in front of everyone. But he doesn’t say that, just. Squeezes Donnie’s hand. Like, I’m here.

“... And,” Donnie continues, squeezing back. Like thank you. “And that – I should give up on him. That I’m – that I’d be better off without him. I don’t –”

Choked, again. A quiet sniffle. The guilt threatens to eat Leo alive, and all he can do is hold Donnie’s hand.

“Those are the things he said,” Donnie says, and – Leo should’ve known he wasn’t done yet. But he tenses anyway, caught off guard by the idea that Donnie has even more to say. “Now for the things I know: Leo skipped school the past two days. Likely walked home. He has not been eating or sleeping properly. He has been using coffee to stay awake, and once I removed the coffee machine, energy drinks.”

Leo freezes up. He hadn’t thought Donnie would know about the energy drinks. He’d hidden them under his bed for a reason. But – but there was that one time. When he crashed, and Donnie had to wake him up. He doesn’t remember very well, but he doesn’t think he would’ve had the thought to hide them before he passed out. It’s… not impossible Donnie saw one of the empty cans.

“Is all that correct, Nardo?” Donnie asks, and Leo looks up to Donnie’s eyes on him. Nods, just once, all he can really manage.

There’s a collective exhale from everyone in the circle. Leo’s pretty sure at least two people are tearing up. He stomps down the guilt as hard as he can; he doesn’t want to get smacked again.

“Is there anything I'm missing?”

And. 

Fuck, Leo doesn't want to talk about it, the humiliation still fresh in his mind. But he probably should, if he's gonna have to see her again on Monday.

“I, um –” he starts, avoiding everyone's eyes. “I fell asleep in Chemistry. And – and yelled at my teacher when she woke me up. So.”

“Sleep deprivation and lack of food does tend to make it easier to get angry,” Donnie says, squeezing Leo's hand. “She… she should understand when you explain.”

And then, so matter-of-fact that Leo can’t help but laugh, “If not, then she isn't fit to be a teacher.”

And… Leo would love to leave it there, on that note. But there's more, even if he hates the thought of admitting it. “And I… I was. Maybe. Throwing out my lunches? Um. Sorry.” 

He says it very small, like maybe they won't hear, maybe they won't have to know. But there's an inhale from next to him, dashing those hopes instantly.

“Do not apologize,” Splinter says, and Leo shakes his head, instinctive. The gut knowledge that he has to. Splinter packed it for him, and he wasted it. “We have plenty of food to go around, and I am… I am just grateful you have told me. Thank you, Leonardo.”

“Mm,” Leo says, fully aware he's not gonna be able to get anything else out without his voice wobbling. 

… There's something else, too. Something he knows he really should talk about. But it's – it's too big to even think about, for him, outside of the abstract. Much less talk about. And it had really only been a flash of a thought anyway. Not worth bringing up.

“Thank you for telling us all of this,” Splinter says, thankfully pulling Leo out of his thoughts before they go any further down that particular road. “I… I am so, so sorry you have been feeling this way. It has been said before but I want to say again that you are in no way stupid, or lazy, or any of the things you think about yourself. You are my son, my brilliant, brave, larger-than-life baby Blue. And anyone who tries to disagree will have to answer to me.”

There's emphatic nods from everyone around the circle, and Leo – Leo can't cry again. He refuses to. He's already cried more than enough in the last day. But god, does it get to him, hearing his dad talk about him like that. The idea that other people might not see Leo the way he sees himself. 

“Okay,” is all he can manage, already a little choked up. Thinking of the pile of everything he’s done wrong, teetering above him, ready to fall. He’d been so certain that the only way to fix things was to burn it all down. 

But maybe he doesn’t have to. He can’t dismantle it by himself, sure, but that’s okay. His family is practically begging him to let them help. All he has to do is accept it.

They make a game plan. An appointment with the guidance counselor on Monday, that Leo is already dreading. He doesn't know if it would be easier or harder to talk to a total stranger about all this than his family. Maybe easier, since the risk is so much higher with the people he loves. And – and he doesn't have to talk about any of the other stuff, either. Just the missing homework. 

But there's still a tangle of anxiety wedged in his throat, and he really doesn't think it's going anywhere until the meeting is over. 

Or… missed. Because Leo knows all too well that he has another option here. He's way too good at running away from his problems, even when he really wants to try to fix them. 

Splinter will be there, though, and that'll make it harder to slip away. Leo doesn't know if he's glad about that or not. 

They plan for things at home, too. Or try to. That part is a bit harder, because while Leo desperately wants to fix his academic fuckups, he still really doesn't feel like he deserves to do things like, y’know. Sleep or eat. Which makes it a whole lot harder for him to work with the others on figuring out what to do about that. 

“I know you probably don't like the idea,” Raph says finally, slowly, and Leo is already on guard from that alone. “But would it help to have a – acc – somebody watching you?”

“Accountability,” Donnie chimes in, but Leo barely hears it through the dread he feels at the idea. 

No, is his instant thought, and he opens his mouth to say it but – pauses. Raph's not asking if he'd like it. He's asking if it would help Leo actually take care of himself. 

And Leo kinda has a feeling it would, which just makes the dread that much worse. Because with somebody watching him, he wouldn't be able to stay up all night on energy drinks, staring into nothing. He wouldn't be able to scrape his lunches into the trash can before hiding in the library. And that's what Leo wants to do. 

But it's not what his family wants. 

It feels like the hardest thing in the world when Leo forces himself to nod, but the way his entire family breaks into relieved smiles almost makes up for it. 

Meals, at least, are easy to figure out. They generally eat breakfast and dinner together, and Donnie volunteers on his own to hang out with Leo during lunch. 

Leo raises an eyebrow at that. This isn't even about him not deserving to eat, it just doesn't make sense. “You hate the cafeteria, though. It's always super noisy and crowded.”

Donnie rolls his eyes, like he can't believe Leo would even say such a thing. “Nardo, I have noise canceling headphones for a reason. Besides, I haven't gotten to spend nearly as much time with you lately as I'd like. If anything, this is just an excuse to be able to hang out with you.”

Leo bites back a disbelieving laugh at that. Because, seriously? That's so transparent. Never mind the fact that Leo really doesn't understand why Donnie would want to hang out with him, there are way better times and places to do it than a cafeteria full of yelling teens. 

But Leo already knows he won't be able to change Donnie's mind once it's made up. So he doesn't bother arguing, just nods silently. 

Then the sleep thing. That one's a bit more difficult, because really the only option is for someone else to sleep in the same room as Leo, and Leo really doesn't want to inconvenience any of them like that. Plus there's only the one bed in the room, anyway, and there's not a whole lot of room in that bed for two people to both sleep comfortably. 

The solution seems obvious in retrospect – just do what they did last night and make a nest on the floor. And with zero input from Leo – and in fact, active protesting – Leo's brothers decide on a rotation. One of them each night to join Leo. Make sure he sleeps. Giving up their comfortable beds for a nest of pillows on the floor. And none of them will hear Leo out when he suggests they take the bed and he can sleep on the floor. 

In the end, they settle on both Leo and whoever is – is babysitting him that night – taking the floor. Sharing the nest. It's the only option all of them can at least mostly agree on. 

(And nobody says it, but Leo has a feeling they’re all gonna be keeping a closer eye on him for a while, just in general.)

Everyone else eats lunch. More casserole, and Leo still doesn't know if he can stomach it. So he follows Mikey into the kitchen to see what else there is. 

Mikey asks, again, if Leo wants the pizza. And Leo…

Knows he should say yes. Knows it would be worrying if he said no. And he’s already worried everyone more than enough.

But he just. Can’t stop replaying Splinter’s words in his head. A reward since you are all working so hard in school. 

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t. 

So he shakes his head. Soaks in the guilt. But he’d feel guilty either way, no matter what.

Mikey hesitates, then removes the plate from the fridge. Even though Leo had just said he couldn’t eat it. Or – unless someone else is going to eat it. That’d probably be better. Not a waste.

But instead, Mikey dumps the slice in the garbage.

“It’s – it’s probably not super good anymore anyway,” he explains at Leo’s shock. “But we can go and get some more whenever you want! Just say the word!” 

Leo forces a smile and nods. He doesn’t think that’ll be for – for a while. If ever. But he appreciates the thought.

“Sorry I made you waste it,” he says, and Mikey just waves a hand.

“Pshhh, don’t worry about it! It was free anyway, Hueso gave it to us on the house when he heard you were sick,” he says, sending Leo’s stomach on a rollercoaster. Confusion. Anxiety. More guilt. He doesn’t understand –

“Why?” he asks, the word slipping from his mouth before he can think better of it.

Mikey pauses, tilts his head. Like he’s confused why Leo would even ask that, like it’s obvious. “Um, because he was worried about you? Because he cares about you? Duh?”

All Leo can really do is laugh. Because, like, come on. Hueso? The guy hates him. All Leo’s ever done is annoy the shit out of him. Which – which is the point, it’s what he’s trying to do. So it’s fine! It just means there’s no way in hell the guy actually cares about him. 

“He does!” Mikey insists, frustrated. “Just because you think you don’t matter or – or shouldn’t matter to anyone doesn’t mean that’s true. It just means you can’t see it.”

“I – okay, whatever, but. Hueso, though?” Leo raises an eyebrow and gestures, like, are you sure about that? “He always – he’s never happy to see me. He threatens to kick me out at least once every time we go there! You’ve seen it!”

Mikey huffs. “Yeah, but that’s – he just shows affection a bit differently! Like – like a cat!”

“That’s –” Leo cuts himself off. This isn’t getting anywhere. He knows the truth, no matter what Mikey says. There’s no point in arguing over it. “... Yeah. Okay. Is there any spaghetti left?”

A sigh from Mikey, as he turns back to the fridge to look. “A little. I can make some more, though.”

Like a kick to the gut. The kneejerk response of – why would Mikey do that for him? Leo shakes his head. “That’s – that’s okay. I’ll just have what’s left. I’m not –”

He stops before he can finish the sentence. I’m not super hungry. 

He is, is the thing. He’s been hungry. And – and he knows he should eat. His family wants him to eat. But he still feels like he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I’m not sure I can stomach a whole lot right now,” is what he settles for instead. Still true, just. Not the whole truth. 

Mikey studies him for a moment, then nods and pulls the spaghetti out for him. Leo takes it, staring down into the Tupperware like it’s a two-page science paper he should’ve started weeks ago.

“... Thanks, Mike,” he says finally, after a period of silence that’s – probably a little concerning. Mikey doesn’t say anything, at least, just gives him a thumbs up and heads back for the living room.

Leo stands there for a moment, just holding the spaghetti. Not moving.

Then he takes a deep breath and follows Mikey back.

At some point, April does have to go home. Needs to pack, and everything. But she hugs Leo fiercely before she goes, tight enough that he thinks he almost hears something crack. Then she pulls back, hands on his shoulders, and looks him in the eyes, the most determined he’s seen her maybe ever.

And she whispers, “You are fucking incredible, Hamato Leonardo. I am so damn proud of you. And there is nothing in the whole wide world that could ever change that.”

All Leo can manage is a frankly pathetic, “Oh.”

And then April is gone, leaving Leo with tears in his eyes for the umpteenth time in the past 24 hours.

When everything has settled down a bit, Splinter takes Leo aside. And despite literally everything this entire day proving otherwise, Leo can't help the little jump of fear that Splinter is going to finally tell Leo how disappointed he is in him. 

But, of course, that doesn't happen. Instead, Splinter takes Leo's hands, holding them gently in his. 

“I know that we have already discussed how to help you with the external problems,” he says, and oh no this might actually be worse. Leo's eyes dart around, instinctively looking for escape routes. Splinter’s grip tightens, just a bit, like he knows what Leo is doing. “But I would like to speak about… about the other things Donatello said, as well.”

Leo would, quite honestly, rather die. But that's not an option, so he's just gotta do his best to get out of this the only way he knows how. 

“Oh, that wasn't –” Acting embarrassed isn't hard at all, because he really fucking is, just. For different reasons. “I didn't actually mean that stuff, I was just – y’know how it is when you're sleep deprived, you just kinda say whatever.”

Splinter looks very sad, and he doesn't even need to speak for Leo to know he didn't buy any of that. Fuck. 

“You do not have to speak to me about it, if you are uncomfortable with that,” Splinter says. And Leo would relax, except he can feel a ‘but’ coming. 

“But –” And there it is. “– I would like you to speak to someone, at least. If not me, then perhaps a professional.”

An out. A way to distract. Lesser of two evils. Leo snatches it up, quick as he can. “Oh, that reminds me, um. Donnie said something earlier, that I – that he thought I might. Have something. ADAD? AD-something.”

He knows the letters. But this way Splinter will correct him, focusing his attention on this, and not Leo's other issues.

“ADHD,” Splinter says, proving Leo right. “Hm. I do not know much about it, beyond the basics. But if you would like to look into that, I would be happy to set up an appointment with someone who knows more.”

“Yeah,” Leo says, and once again, it's not difficult to act relieved. “That sounds good.” 

And the topic moves on, and Leo is safe. 

The rotation starts out with Raph. He and Leo drag some extra pillows and blankets into Leo's room, and set them up in a mini-nest. It's pretty comfortable, Leo will admit, but he still feels bad. Guilty. Like he's forcing Raph to do this, even though none of this was Leo's idea. 

“Sorry,” he says anyway, reflexively, and gets a bonk on the head for it. 

“No apologizing,” Raph says, in his patented Big Brother Voice™. The kind that lets Leo know he is not going to take any arguments. “Raph wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be.”

Leo shrugs, fidgeting a little. “I guess, but it's – you're still inconveniencing yourself for me.”

“Leo,” Raph says. Waits until Leo looks up and meets his eyes. “You are worth the inconvenience. Okay?”

Another shrug. He can't bring himself to agree, but he knows arguing wouldn't go down well. So. 

Raph sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “We'll… we'll work on it. C’mon, time for bed.”

“Mm,” Leo says, reluctantly getting comfortable in the nest. Raph follows him, stretching out and smacking a hand across Leo's face just to get the indignant sputters out of him. They both settle in, and before they fall asleep, Raph turns to Leo one more time. 

“I love you so much, little brother,” he says, bringing a lump to Leo's throat. “Even if you don't like yourself, even if you can't see yourself the way we see you, I hope you at least know that much.”

“Yeah,” Leo manages, voice thick. “Love you too.”

Leo wakes up in the middle of the night. 3:37 AM, when he checks his phone. Stomach queasy, and he doesn't know if it's from the food (even though he literally only ate plain spaghetti yesterday) or something else. 

He doesn't think he's going to throw up. But it's just bad enough that he doesn't think he'll be able to get back to sleep, either. And he's pretty sure if he tries to get up, he'll wake Raph up, which he definitely doesn't want to do. 

So he just… lays there. After an hour or so the nausea fades, but by then Leo is pretty sure he's awake enough that there's no way he's getting back to sleep. 

That's… fine. That's fine. This is what he wanted, anyway. This is what he deserves. 

When Raph starts to stir, Leo immediately pretends to be asleep. He knows he probably shouldn't – that this is totally against the point of, y’know, having someone in here to make sure he sleeps. But it's really not his fault this time! He tried to sleep, and he got more than he usually does lately. It just… didn't last.

And Leo knows Raph will worry, even if it wasn't on purpose. So. This is the obvious solution. 

Except that when Raph opens his eyes, it doesn't even take a minute before he pokes at Leo and says, “I know you're awake.”

Busted. Leo groans and cracks an eye open, glaring at Raph. “How?”

Raph grins, proud of himself. “Big brother senses.”

Leo doesn't think that's really a thing, but regardless, he's been caught. No point in keeping up the act now. He sits up and stretches. Part of him wants to ask Raph if he, at least, slept okay. But he doesn't want to bring any more attention to his own lack of sleep than necessary. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Raph asks, and okay, never mind that then. Leo nods. 

“Yeah. I got a few hours, just. Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep.”

“Aw.” Raph frowns, hand on Leo's shoulder. “I'm sorry, buddy. Proud of you for trying, though.”

Against his will, Leo flushes at the praise. Raph is really way too nice to him. He shouldn't be proud of Leo for getting, like, three hours of sleep. 

But he doesn’t want to end up arguing in circles with Raph, so he doesn’t say that. Just. Smiles and stays silent. 

As the day winds on, the ball of dread inside Leo grows bigger and bigger. The closer it gets to tomorrow, to Monday, to having to go back to school and face the music. He can’t even do anything to distract himself – can’t focus on anything except going back tomorrow, how mad everyone is going to be. 

He works himself into a panic over it, to the point where Mikey pokes his head in to let Leo know it's time for dinner and immediately goes, “Oohhh man that's not good.”

Mikey enters the room fully, walks over to where Leo is pacing back and forth frantically, and stands in front of him. Leo jolts to a stop, and before he can just – go around Mikey or something – Mikey grabs his hands, holding him in place.

“What's goin’ on?” he asks, tilting his head a little. And then, even though Leo hadn't said anything, “Wait, no, you're right. That's a silly question. It's about going back tomorrow, right?”

Caught, Leo can’t do anything but nod. Mikey squeezes his hands, and it’s – it doesn’t really help. But it’s something.

“It’ll be okay,” Mikey says, and there’s so much certainty in his voice that just for a moment Leo believes him. “It may not feel like it right now, but it will. And you’re not gonna be going through it alone, okay? If there’s ever anything – anything – any of us can do. Just say the word and we’ll be there like –” And he snaps his fingers. “– that!”

“Yeah,” Leo says, throat dry at the thought that his family would do whatever he needed. For him. They’re so, so good to him and he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Hey!” Mikey pouts, poking a finger right into Leo’s face. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it. We want to be here for you. It’s not a burden, or a bother, and you’re not making us do anything. You’re our brother, and we love you.”

And all Leo can really do is say, weak, “I love you guys too.”

Leo only manages a few bites of chicken before he can’t eat anymore, the fear of tomorrow making his stomach turn.

“Sorry,” he says, quiet, ashamed. Pushes his chair back without thinking, the movements automatic. Go upstairs, open his laptop, stare at a blank page until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Except he’s stopped by Mikey grabbing his wrist. Pulling him up short, snapping him out of the muscle memory. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mikey says, letting go now that Leo’s stopped. “And you don’t have to leave, either. Even if you can’t eat any more, you can still hang out!”

“Yeah,” Leo says, quiet. He doesn’t understand why they would want him here. He’s not exactly good company at the moment. But he sits back down and smiles through the rest of dinner anyway.

Leo lays in the nest, still and silent and staring up at the ceiling, the whole night. 

Monday morning. Leo is drowning in the panic. He can't think about anything else, can barely choke down breakfast. He catches the others giving him worried looks, and he does try to reassure them, but he's well aware it falls flat. Too scared of what's coming to really give his best effort. 

They all hug Leo before they leave. One by one, each whispering their own form of encouragement in his ear. 

And then they're gone, and Leo is left with Splinter and a fear that weakens his knees. 

“We have to do this?” he asks, with none of his usual bravado. Just quiet. And Splinter nods. 

“We do. I know you are not looking forward to it. But I promise that I will be by your side the entire time. I cannot take your fear from you, but I can say that you do not have to bear it alone.” 

It doesn't really lessen the fear any, too deep and endless to be affected by much of anything. But Leo appreciates the thought. 

Splinter drives Leo to school. Took the morning off work for it, too, which drowns Leo in guilt on its own. He practically has to drag Leo out of the car – not because Leo is resisting, just. The second he sees the school come into view, his entire body locks up, and his mind shuts down. No part of him wants to be here. But he has to. 

Leo is on autopilot for the entire meeting with the guidance counselor, not processing a single word out of her mouth. Whatever part of him isn't in vacation mode really hopes Splinter is paying attention. Leo couldn't even if he tried. 

It's over. Leo would say it wasn't that bad, except the only reason it wasn't that bad is because he doesn't even remember any of it. Splinter hands him a sheet of paper that he assumes contains – notes or something, maybe a detailed plan of how to fix this, and Leo tucks it into his backpack. He'll read it later, when his feet are back on the ground. 

And then Splinter kisses him on the forehead and leaves, and Leo is left alone. 

His feet move before his mind can catch up, walking towards the doors to leave because he can't he can't he can't – except he doesn't even make it halfway before someone steps in front of him, only instinct stopping him from crashing into them. 

He blinks. Once, twice, trying to reboot his sense of awareness. Purple in his view. Doesn't Donnie have class right now?

“I have informed my teachers that I will not be attending class today,” comes from far away, like he'd read Leo's mind. Another blink. Closer. He waits, until –

The fear crashes back in all at once, and Leo is back in his body whether he likes it or not. 

Donnie's in front of him, hand locked around his wrist. Said something, but Leo doesn't remember what. He looks concerned when Leo asks, but repeats himself anyway. And. 

The implication is that he'll be attending Leo's classes with him instead. But the only thing Leo wants to do right now is run, every part of him reaching for the doorway. Desperate to get away. 

“I can't,” he says, and it's supposed to be a normal volume but it comes out as a whisper, voice too choked to make the amount of sound he needs. He hates begging, hates feeling weak, but right now the alternative is worse. So – “Please, Tello. Please don't make me.”

Donnie's expression twists, conflicted. But in the end, he shakes his head, dooming Leo. “I – I know you don't want to. But you have to. It's the only way for things to start getting better.”

“But –” Leo casts around desperately for any reason he can think of, anything that would make Donnie change his mind. “But what if – what if they're mad at me-?”

And he – he really didn't mean to say that. But he doesn't get a chance to take it back, because the second the words are out of his mouth Donnie responds with, “Then I'll kill them.”

Even as terrified as he is, that gets a laugh out of Leo. But it's not nearly enough to convince the scared prey animal part of him that staying and talking to his teachers would be better than just running, as far and as fast as he can. Even though he knows Donnie is right. He's never going to be able to fix anything if he just avoids all his problems forever. 

If only knowing that made it even the tiniest bit easier to do it. 

“I can do the talking, if you want,” Donnie offers, and – Leo is so, so tempted to say yes. But he – he can’t. It’s not something he knows how to put into words, but he feels like he needs to do this himself. As much as he hates it.

So he shakes his head. “Just. Just – gimme a few minutes.”

And because Donnie is the best twin in the entire world, he just nods, and waits until Leo is ready.

They go from class to class, Donnie always standing behind Leo like some kind of Secret Service agent when he talks to the teachers, writing down the assignments for him, then sitting next to him during the class. So far, the teachers have been pretty understanding, and he hasn't heard anyone whispering or giggling under their breath, just loud enough for him to hear. Though Leo isn't sure how much of that is genuine and how much is because of Donnie being as menacing of a presence as he can manage (which is quite a bit, from Leo's experience). Still, at least it makes it a little easier, and eases the dread bit by bit. 

And then it's time for Chemistry. 

Once again, involuntary, Leo's knees lock up. Fear like a tidal wave, impossible to move. Unable to breathe. Donnie has to physically pull him along, glancing over at him in worry every few seconds. Too much. He can't do this. Too much. He can't do this. Pounding in his ears over and over like a heartbeat. 

Donnie doesn't let go of his hand when they face the Chemistry teacher. But he doesn't speak for Leo either. Leo has to do this himself. And he can't.

Standing there in silence, mouth open but nothing coming out. He starts to hear the giggles behind him, because how stupid do you have to be to just stand there and not say anything, how much of a failure do you have to be to skip class three days in a row, to miss two weeks and counting of homework, to – 

“Leo.” Next to his ear, low enough that only he can hear it. “You've got this.”

He doesn't. He really, really doesn't. But he appreciates the thought. 

Finally, the teacher takes pity on him, saying, “If you would like to speak to me after class instead –”

She doesn't even get to finish, Leo nodding furiously. Partly so he can put it off longer, but also because he would much rather have this conversation in front of an empty classroom than… than this. 

He goes to sit down, grateful for the reprieve. Donnie, as usual, joins him and hisses at the boy who usually sits next to him. The kid scrambles away, eyes wide, to find a different seat, and Donnie takes his place next to Leo with the smuggest grin Leo's ever seen on his face. 

“Weirdo,” Leo mutters affectionately, voice returning to him now that he doesn't have the eyes of the whole class on him, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Donnie's grin widen. 

Chemistry somehow both passes way too fast and drags on forever, and then Leo finds himself back up in front of the teacher's desk again. It does help a little not to have extra eyes on him, but he's still so afraid, and it still takes a few minutes before he can work up the nerve to speak. 

“I – um – I'm sorry,” he finally gets out, barely loud enough for her to hear. Eyes squeezed tight shut so he doesn't have to see her watching him. “I shouldn't – I shouldn't have snapped at you or – or fallen asleep in class – or skipped and – and gotten so far behind. I'm – I know it'll have – have points taken off but I want to get – that work in.”

There's silence, too terrifying for him to look. A squeeze to his hand. Like, told you you had it. And then, “I'm glad to see you finally putting some effort in, Leonardo.”

Backhanded. But he can't get upset if it's true. And out of everything she could have said, everything he would've deserved, this is by far one of the kinder options. 

Donnie seems to disagree, because Leo hears him inhale in the way he does when he's about to go on a whole tirade about something or other. 

“Don't,” Leo murmurs, before Donnie can get started.

“Don't?!” Donnie whirls to face Leo, absolutely fuming. “Leo, you cannot be serious. The way she's talking about you is –”

“She's right,” Leo interrupts. “And besides, I… I don't really want to start a scene in the middle of school.”

Donnie opens his mouth again, and for a moment Leo is worried he’s not going to listen. But then he closes it again, and just settles for glaring at the teacher. “We are not done with this. Now. List off every single one of Leo’s late assignments so I can write them down and we can leave.” 

The teacher doesn’t seem thrilled, but does as Donnie asks. And then, finally, finally, it’s over, and Leo can leave. He’ll still have to see her in Chemistry every day, but the worst is over. He hopes.

The second they’re out of the room, though, Donnie whirls on Leo, still furious. And, like – Leo appreciates it, he does, but again: she’s right. That’s just objective fact. He hasn’t been putting effort in. That’s why he’s in this mess in the first place.

So before Donnie can speak, Leo does.

“I get it, Dee, but – but can we not do this now? Please? I – I just want to get all this over with.”

And Donnie huffs. But he nods. And they go to Leo’s next class.

Everything else is a breeze compared to Chemistry. Still fucking terrifying, but nowhere near as much. And finally Leo is on the bus home with his brothers, a plan (or, well, Splinter’s notes of a plan) from the guidance counselor, and a list of everything he needs to do to catch up. 

He still hasn’t looked at the guidance counselor thing. He knows he should probably do that, but – maybe… maybe when he gets home. The thought of opening it on the bus and having someone look over his shoulder, read it and know what a failure he is, kind of makes him sick.

Not that everyone doesn’t know already. But still.

Leo and Splinter go over the notes together, along with Donnie’s list of all Leo’s missing assignments. It’s… all in all, it’s not as bad as Leo was expecting. He should be able to get all of it done in less than a month, if he follows the plan of two assignments every day, plus whatever his current homework is. 

Of course, that’s assuming he can actually get himself to do the work this time, which is never guaranteed. But still, the pile feels just a little bit more manageable than it did before.

Donnie offers to do some – or all – of the assignments for him. For a moment, Leo thinks he’s joking, because it’s hard to tell sometimes, but no, he’s serious.

It’s sweet, but Leo knows already he wouldn’t feel like he earned it if he only got the assignments done by shoving the work off onto Donnie. And besides, he points out, most of the teachers have Donnie in the honors portion of their classes, too. They know what his work looks like, and they know what Leo’s work looks like. They’d definitely be able to figure it out.

“That… is a good point,” Donnie admits with a sigh. “Still. If there’s anything else I can help with, just say the word. Please.”

Part of Leo wants to find something Donnie can help with, even if just for Donnie’s sake. He sounds so desperate, the same way he’d sounded the other day, begging for Leo to just sleep. It tugs and twists at Leo’s heart, and he’d do just about anything to keep his twin from sounding like that again.

Another part is still screaming that he shouldn’t need help, he should be able to do this by himself, everyone else can so why can’t he, and it’s so familiar and so easy that for a moment he lets himself sink back into it. 

But Donnie’s pleas echo in his mind, and. Leo doesn’t think he can do it for himself, not now and maybe not ever. But he might be able to do it for Donnie. 

“Um,” he starts, and the lurch of his stomach almost stops him in his tracks. But. For Donnie, he reminds himself, and forces the words out. “Is – can you maybe – I have some assignments where I have to… to read stuff. And I have trouble – I guess processing the words sometimes. D’you think you could – um. Read it to me…?” And then, almost immediately backtracking, “Or – or just record it if you’re busy, or you don’t have to do it at all, I’m sure I can figure it out, it’s –”

“Nardo,” Donnie cuts him off, and whatever Leo was going to say gets stuck in his throat at the sheer happiness and relief on Donnie’s face. “There is nothing I would love more in the world right now.”

“Uranium,” Leo says, just to be a little shit.

“That’s –” Donnie sputters indignantly. “That doesn’t count! That’s an entirely different category! You – you know what I meant!”

But he’s smiling, so so wide and genuine, and. 

It’s humiliating, asking for help. Needing to ask for help. But if it’ll make his family look that happy, then.

Maybe he can at least try to do it a little more.

Leo stalls almost immediately.

Having his readings as, essentially, a real-time audiobook… does help. And Donnie’s happy to go back and repeat things if Leo needs it, no matter how embarrassing it is to ask. 

But he still has trouble with the whole… writing part. Or maybe it’s not so much the writing as it is just – everything, because he has the same trouble working on his math homework, which is like, the furthest thing from writing. 

Leo just. Doesn’t know how to get started. 

He asks his brothers for their thoughts, remembering how happy Donnie had been when Leo’d asked for help with the reading. And the advice they give is – sort of helpful. Some of it, at least. Like, Mikey suggests breaking it up into pieces, as tiny as he can manage. Leo takes that as something like do one problem at a time, one paragraph at a time, one sentence at a time. 

And it kind of works. If he tells himself he only has to write one sentence, that’s a lot less overwhelming than writing a whole paper. And once he’s written a sentence, it’s – not easy, but easier – to write more. A little bit of progress at a time. Better than nothing. 

But it’s still so hard. And the second he starts thinking about that, about how hard it is, about how it’s not this hard for anyone else – then any amount of momentum he’s built is gone. 

It’s so incredibly frustrating. And there’s not really anything he can even do about it, because, like, it’s true. None of the others have this much trouble with school. None of them have ever gotten two weeks and counting behind. None of them have ever skipped entirely because they were too ashamed to face anyone. 

It's just Leo. Because of course it is. And there's no fixing it, especially if it's what Donnie thinks it is. He's going to be like this forever. 

… Yeah. Okay. He's not getting anything done like this. Time to go bother one of his brothers or something. 

He'll try again later. 

Leo finishes his first overdue assignment. 

He's not as proud of it as his family seems to be, because it took him three days and he's gotten barely any of his current homework done, so really he's just getting even more behind, but. 

It's something. 

It takes Leo a while to notice that he’s being served less at meals. And that his lunch box has less packed than it used to. It strikes him as odd, because didn’t Splinter want him to eat more? 

But when he brings it up, awkward and unsure, Splinter just smiles. 

“It was Michelangelo’s idea,” he says. “He noticed that you often felt guilty for being unable to finish a full portion, and thought this might help. You are always, always welcome to ask for more if you want it.” 

“Oh,” Leo says, a little unsteady. Because that’s – that’s so thoughtful. Which isn’t surprising, on its own, but the idea that Mikey would notice something that was upsetting Leo and quietly do something he thought would help – Leo’s still getting used to it. The idea that even if he doesn’t think he’s worth that, his family does. “I’ll – it does help. I’ll have to thank him.”

When he does, Mikey’s smile is sunnier than it has been in weeks.

Leo is sitting in the waiting room of some fancy doctor whose name he can't remember, so anxious he can barely breathe. This is – supposedly – it. The person who will tell him what's wrong with him. If there's any hope of fixing it. 

He can't keep still. Leg vibrating at the speed of sound, and he's gotten so many looks from other people waiting and he knows it's annoying, he's tried to stop, he just –

“Leo Hamato?”

Shit. That's him. He gets to his feet and trails the doctor back, Splinter following behind him. Heart beating out of his chest. Moment of truth. 

It's not… as bad as Leo was expecting, honestly. Like, Splinter had done his research, done his best to prepare Leo for how it would go, but Leo had been picturing more… he doesn't know. People crowding around him, poking and prodding and staring and whispering. 

Instead he mostly just answers questions and fills out forms. And yeah, some of the questions suck to answer, especially the ones related to school. But most of those, Splinter is able and willing to answer for him. And Leo pushes through the rest as best as he can. 

He leaves with a brand-new diagnosis, a prescription to pick up, and a lot more information than he had before. And no idea how to feel about any of it. Both Splinter and the doctor told him it wasn't something ‘wrong’ with him, just something different. But it feels like the same thing. It still means he can't do things other people have no problem with. It still means people will look at him different if they know. 

He doesn't get any homework done that day.

Leo stares at the bottle of pills with trepidation (there, see, Donnie, he does know book words!). He… doesn't know if he wants to try them. Like, he knows they're supposed to help. But there's also a whole list of side effects that honestly sound pretty scary, even if the pharmacist assured him the really bad ones were super unlikely. And – and he's also kinda scared, even if he'd never admit it, because. 

What if they don't work?

Realistically, he knows the answer: they just try something else, until they find what does work. But there's a part of him that wonders – what if he can't be helped? What if he's just stuck like this forever, and there's nothing anyone can do about it? 

He… he doesn't know what he'd do. 

So he's putting off trying the meds. Staring at them the same way he does a blank page. As if that would somehow guarantee that they'd work. 

He sits there, staring, until Raph walks in and startles upon seeing him. “Leo-! Everything okay?”

“Huh?” Leo turns, still a little distant. “Oh, yeah, of course! Just – just thinking.”

“Hm.” Raph sits down next to Leo, chin in his hands, and eyes the bottle. “About what?”

Leo thinks it's pretty clear, but maybe Raph is just being polite. Either way, he's definitely not telling Raph his actual thoughts, so he thinks quickly to come up with something believable. “How it's gonna be different, I guess. I dunno how much they're gonna change, if I'll be, like, a totally different person or what.”

… He wouldn't mind that. Point one for taking the meds. 

“Don't think that's how they work,” Raph says with a huff of laughter. “But… Raph doesn't know a lot about all this, but isn't it just – evening the playing field? Not changing you, just. Giving you a boost.”

Leo frowns. It makes sense, but he still hates the fact that he needs a boost just to break even with everyone else. Like he's not good enough on his own. 

Which. He's not. But still. 

“I guess,” he says, shrugging. “Still. Weird to think about.”

“Yeah.” Raph picks up the bottle, turns it over and over in his hand. Not really reading the label, just. Watching. “I know trying something new can be scary. But no matter the outcome, you'll get through it. Raph knows you will.”

“How?” Leo asks, before he can stop himself. How can Raph be so sure of something that Leo doesn't even know?

“Easy.” Raph grins and claps Leo on the shoulder. “‘Cause you got us. And we're on your side no matter what. You don't have to do this alone, Leo.”

Oh. 

Okay. Okay. Maybe that makes Leo tear up just a bit. He ducks his head, hoping Raph won't notice, and nods. “Yeah. I – I know.” 

“Good.” Out of the corner of his eye, Leo sees Raph smile, warm as always. And part of him wants to ask the question that's haunting him – what if they don't work?

But he already knows what Raph will say. Can hear it in his voice, clear as day – then we try something else until we find something that does. 

It's the exact same thought he already had. And it's not even Raph saying it, just Leo's imaginary version of Raph. So it shouldn't make any difference, and yet. 

And yet. 

He turns a smile up towards Raph, holds his hand out for the bottle, and Raph tosses it to him. 

“Thanks,” Leo says, meaning it for a lot more than just handing him the meds. And judging by Raph's smile, all soft and gooey like the inside of a marshmallow, he understands. 

Honestly, Leo doesn't feel any different. Like, he's gotten a couple of things done today, which is great. But he'd thought it would be… he doesn't know. More dramatic. 

Maybe it just takes more time. He's only been on the meds for, like, three days. And he's pretty sure the doctor he saw said it could take weeks. Which. Leo kinda hates. He doesn't want to wait weeks. He can't afford to wait weeks when he's already so far behind as it is. And especially when it might turn out the meds aren't even the right ones for him, so they waited weeks for nothing, and then he'd have to start over from scratch anyway. 

It's frustrating. And it just makes him feel worse about the fact that he needs the meds to begin with. The fact that he probably always will, for the rest of his life. Endless and unchangeable. The idea that the pile will be there forever, no matter how hard he works at it.

It feels like he’ll always be playing catch up, no matter what. 

A week and a half into taking the meds and Leo still can't tell the difference. At least not by himself. But when he asks his brothers, apparently there is a noticeable difference, so. Maybe it's just hard for him to tell because it's him, or something. 

Still. He's made progress, he thinks. Not without a lot of struggling, and he's definitely behind on the plan the guidance counselor had suggested. But he hasn't gotten even more behind than he already is. He's keeping up with his current homework. And he is, bit by bit, getting through the massive pile of overdue assignments. 

Leo likes to think he's doing better about the other stuff, too. Eating still sucks, but he can force himself to do it, and it's almost worth it for the pride on his family's faces when he finishes the whole plate. Sleeping isn't great either, but he isn't waking up nauseous in the middle of the night every night anymore. Still more often than not. But that's better than always. 

He still doesn't like himself. He still doesn't feel like he deserves things like food or sleep or love. He doesn't think he ever really will. And the thought of feeling like this for the rest of his life, of never shedding the blanket of self-loathing draped across his shoulders and weighing him down – it's too much to think about. 

But that part isn't important, as long as he can keep it buried deep down so his family never finds out it's still there. 

What matters is this: he's getting things done. He's taking better care of himself. His family isn't worrying as much anymore. He's making progress. 

And slowly, bit by bit, Leo starts to think that maybe, maybe, he can get through this.

On the way home from school one day, the bus almost hits a jaywalking pedestrian. 

Leo is staring at a blank page.

He’s supposed to be working. He knows that. But he can’t focus. Can’t think about anything but –

He doesn't even know why he can't stop thinking about it. Or – okay, he kinda does. But it doesn't make sense. He's crossed the street plenty of times since – since then. It never crossed his mind for more than a few moments. 

So why this?

It doesn’t make sense. But it’s all he can think about. How badly would it have hurt? Would it have been instant? Drawn out? Would it not have killed the pedestrian at all, just sent them to the hospital and left them to deal with the fallout?

How would the bus driver have lived with it?

It’s all he can think about. And when Donnie comes in for his sleeping shift at ten, Leo is still staring at the screen, imagining the moment of impact.

“Oh,” Donnie says, drawing Leo out of his thoughts just enough to turn to look at Donnie. That just means the images are overlaid on Donnie’s face, though, and Leo kind of hates that. So he turns back to his laptop. “Hey, no, no more working. It’s bedtime.”

“Not working,” Leo says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Donnie frown. 

“Is… something wrong?” he asks, and Leo shrugs. Not his best answer, but he doesn't have the capacity to think of a better one right now. Not when all of his thoughts are occupied by crush of bones and blood and flesh and – 

“Okay,” he hears from far away. “That's okay. I'm… is a hug alright?”

Leo nods, and then there's warmth. Pressure. Living, breathing, heart beating. Donnie. His twin. 

Leo doesn't want to picture Donnie getting hit by a bus. So he turns and burrows into the hug, trying to feel Donnie's heartbeat. A reminder that he's alive. That they both are. 

That night, Leo dreams of yellow.

Leo is doing good. He’s doing so good. He’s gotten two whole assignments done today and he is doing good. 

Just. As long as he doesn't think about anything. As long as he keeps his mind completely blank. No primary colors to be found. Then he's doing so, so good. 

The bus doors open and Leo stops short. His brothers filing on, Mikey turning back to look at him in confusion, because why wouldn't he want to get on the bus? 

There's no reason. None at all. Leo gets on the bus and carefully blanks his mind. 

Leo gets off the bus at school. Pauses. Turns back, towards the road. Towards home. A yellow line, winding and endless and unchangeable. The echo of a crash that never happened, playing over and over again in his head. It would be so easy to slip away. 

It's probably fucked up that even after so much time, even after all the improvement he's made, even after how hard he's worked to fix all the ways he's disappointed everyone, even after all that, he still kind of wants to. 

Someone jostles him as they push by. Snapping Leo out of his thoughts. He turns and walks into school, head spinning. 

It's late at night and Leo can't sleep. Laying awake, staring at the ceiling, mind racing. Raph asleep next to him. 

He's warm and safe and full and he's trying to fall asleep but he can't stop thinking. He remembers so clearly the way the bus jolted to a stop, the way he'd almost fallen out of his seat from the momentum. The way the bus driver had yelled out the window, the barely-there tremble in his voice that Leo never would've caught if he hadn't been so close to the front, if the rest of the students hadn't fallen silent in shock. 

Remembers standing at the side of the road and wondering when another car would come. Remembers yellow. A yellow school bus. A yellow line. Middle of the road, winding into infinity. 

Pictures the bus not stopping. The yellow-red-blue of the scene, staring up into perfect cloudless sky. Plays it on repeat, the way he has been for the past two and a half days. 

Head spinning, way too much to think about, let alone say. That he would want to –

Carefully steers his thoughts away. Carefully avoids putting a name to it. If he names it, then it's real. 

So he doesn't.

Raph shifts in his sleep, moves his arm so it's laying over Leo. Warm and safe and so, so much more than Leo deserves. It hurts to think about, that Raph doesn't know, that Leo can't stop thinking about this horrible thing that almost happened, can't stop imagining what if it did happen, can't stop thinking about it happening to him, and Raph is just – 

Sleeping peacefully. 

Leo carefully slips out from under his big brother's arm and leaves the room. Like his thoughts could wake Raph up if they were loud enough, the way they keep him awake. 

And then stops. Because he didn't think this far ahead, just up to the leaving part. After that, he doesn't know what to do. 

Or. Well. A part of him whispers the idea in his ear like the devil on his shoulder, the thought of nobody's awake, it would be so easy to sneak out right now and –

He shouldn't be thinking things like that, he knows. But it's like the part of him that is supposed to care is asleep right now. Asleep like Raph is, like Leo is supposed to be. One of the few things his family had asked of him, and he can't even do that right. 

Leo doesn't want to do this anymore. And he knows how unfair that is, to his family after all the time they've spent trying to help him, to Splinter after he paid for the doctor appointment and Leo's meds, to his teachers after they've tried to help him catch up. But he's tired. Of feeling like this, of trying so hard for such pathetic results. Of being Leo. And he just wants – 

He wants this to be over. 

His bare feet move, carpet between his toes. Taking one step. Then another. Down the stairs, carefully keeping his mind blank. Carefully not thinking about where he's going. Past midnight, liminal space, the moon through the curtains, big and full. If he doesn't think about it, it isn't real. Another step, the door in sight. Another, lifting his hand to reach for the knob. Another –

“Leonardo?”

Like a gunshot through the silence of the night. Leo jumps, whirls around, eyes wide. Caught. 

“Dad-?” 

“What are you doing up at this hour?”

He doesn't sound mad, just – scared. That might be worse. 

“I – I just wanted some water.”

So obviously bullshit. No way will Splinter buy that. 

“... Very well.” Wait, what-? “Come, I will pour it for you.”

Off balance, Leo trails after his dad to the kitchen. Splinter gets two cups, fills both with water, and hands one to Leo. “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Leo nods, not sure what else he really can do. He really hadn’t expected Splinter to believe his lie, but now he kinda has to follow through with it. 

… That or Splinter is just playing along. 

Regardless. Leo follows Splinter into the living room, and the two of them sit and sip at their water. Leo is tense, heart pounding, trying to figure out what Splinter’s game is. When the other shoe is going to drop.

Finally, after an unbearable length of silence, Leo breaks. “What are you doing-?”

Splinter regards him calmly. Evenly. Like he didn’t just catch Leo trying to sneak out. “I am enjoying a moment with my son. Is there something else I should be doing?”

“I – no, just –”

“I am not going to ask what you were actually doing,” Splinter says, taking pity on him. “If you want to tell me, you may. If you do not want to, then asking will not do any good anyway.” 

“I dunno,” Leo says, quiet. Unsure whether that’s an answer to the question of whether he wants to tell Splinter, or the unspoken question behind it of: what were you doing? Why were you up so late? Why were you reaching for the door –

“That is alright,” Splinter says. “I am more than happy to just sit with you.”

Leo still can’t help but feel on edge. Guilty. Even though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was just going for a walk, he was – 

He wasn’t doing anything.

(If he names it, then it’s real.)

(If he names it, then he can’t ignore it anymore. Can’t pretend it was only ever just a brief thought. Can’t play it off as just going for a walk. If he names it, then he has to admit to everything that comes with it.)

(If he names it, then –)

Before he can lose his nerve, Leo blurts out – “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.” Instant. No hesitation. Voice melted with relief. “Anything.”

And Leo – Leo is already regretting this. It feels impossible. Terrifying, overwhelming, an endless ocean he could so easily drown in. But he’s started, so he has to see it through, no matter how hard it is.

“Back when I – the day before we all – all talked. When I skipped school, when I walked home. There was –” It sticks in his throat. Knees up to his chest, hiding in them, like that would make it easier. And.

His favorite trick. Carefully not thinking about it. It’s just words. They don’t mean anything. Just stringing meaningless words together, one after the other. “I stopped. By the side of the road. And a car went by. And I thought – I thought about… walking into the road a little bit. And waiting for the next one. I – I didn’t. But I thought about it.”

Out into the world now. No way to take it back.

“Ah.” Then silence, rocketing Leo’s heart up into his throat. And then, careful, “May I hug you?”

He nods, once. Doesn’t look up. It has to be hard for Splinter to hug him when he’s curled up into a ball like this, but somehow he manages. 

“Thank you for telling me.” His tone unreadable. Leo nods once, jerky and quick. Uncurls the slightest bit, just enough that he can wind his arms around his dad too. Bury himself in the hug. Never have to think about anything else ever again. “I am… unspeakably glad that you did not act on those thoughts. Is… may I ask. Is that why you were up tonight?”

Yes. No. He doesn’t know. He shrugs, unable to give a better answer than that. Unsure if the reason he keeps thinking about it is because he’s scared of it or because he wants it. 

“That is alright. Perhaps a rephrasing would work better: Have you had those thoughts since then?”

And. That one’s easier, the answer obvious. But it’s – there’s a reason for it, he doesn’t want Splinter thinking he just – was thinking that out of nowhere, so – “The – the bus almost hit someone the other day. Made me – reminded me of it.”

“Hm.” Splinter doesn’t speak for a bit, just holding Leo. Stroking his hair. Such a simple gesture, but Leo can’t keep the tears from welling up at the affection. “Would it help if I drove you to school in the future, instead?”

Leo shrugs again. “I – I dunno. It’s not – I don’t know if it was – just the bus.”

Shame bubbles up as quickly as he admits it. Once again, something he can’t take back. A shaky sigh from Splinter.

“I understand. Once again, thank you for telling me. I… may I make a request?”

Leo nods. Of course. He’d still do just about anything for his dad. That hasn’t changed.

“I would like it if you would try to speak with someone about this,” Splinter says, and Leo instantly tenses up. Splinter clearly feels it, because he quickly adds, “It does not have to be me. Or even someone you already know. I was… hoping, actually, that you would be willing to see a professional. I believe that you need help I cannot provide. And there is nothing wrong with that. But I would like to see you receive that help, even if it is not from me.”

… So, therapy. Leo can read between the lines. And he hates the idea. Hates the thought of having to talk to a total stranger about – about something he can’t even think to himself. But he also hates the idea of saying no to his dad when he’s just upset him so badly. And he knows he has, even if Splinter isn’t acting that upset. It’s one of those things where you feel like you have to be strong in the moment, but then you go and break down later. Or something. Whatever.

“Would you at least try it out?” Splinter asks, when Leo is silent for a bit too long. The slightest tremble in his voice. So similar to the bus driver on that day. “If you cannot find a therapist that works for you, you do not have to continue. But I would like for you to at least try. Please, my son.”

And that’s – that’s just not fair. How is he supposed to refuse now? When Splinter asks him like that? 

He can’t. 

It’ll just be a few times, he tells himself as he nods. Just a few times and then he never has to do it again. 

“Thank you,” Splinter says, and the sheer relief in his voice makes Leo’s heart ache. The knowledge that it’s his fault his dad sounds like that. “We can worry about setting an appointment up tomorrow. For now, will you at least try to sleep a little? For your papa?”

Again. He can’t refuse. He nods, and waits for Splinter to detach from the hug so he can get up. Wobbly on his feet, the after effects of getting all gross and emotional and teary. Makes his way back upstairs and curls up next to Raph again, still sleeping soundly. 

Leo doesn’t get much sleep that night. But something is better than nothing.

Therapy is… weird.

It took a few false starts (and a few shitty therapists losing their licenses courtesy of a certain purple twin) for Leo to find someone he was even willing to talk to, but he doesn’t mind the one he ended up with. She’s nice enough, and she lets Leo talk about whatever he wants. So he sticks with her, even after the requisite few sessions are up.

Except the thing is, Leo’s pretty sure that’s not what therapy is supposed to be. Like, he thought she was supposed to make him talk about his issues. The school stuff, and the issues with taking care of himself, and the self-loathing, and the fact that he’s – and the thoughts he’s had.

(… He still can’t quite name it.)

But she doesn’t make him talk about any of that. They just sort of… have conversations. And sometimes he’ll say something offhand that he doesn’t think is a big deal, and she’ll snatch it out of the air and hand it to him and ask him to examine it a little closer. Like why he thinks that way. Like if it’s really true.

Or like today. She’s asking him about school, a totally normal conversation topic for anyone but Leo. And it’s not like she doesn’t know that! Because Splinter told her, when they first set up the appointment, about Leo being behind. About that being the catalyst for – everything else. 

But she hasn’t brought it up, at least in that way. She just. Asks him about school. How it’s going. If he has any classes he likes. As if he’s a totally normal teenager who hasn’t fucked up near-irreparably. 

And the worst part is he doesn’t hate it. Like, if it was coming from someone who didn’t know, he probably would. But the fact that his therapist does know, and is still asking him these questions anyway – treating him like he’s not the total failure she knows he is – it’s… actually kind of nice.

Eugh.

But they still haven’t talked about – about the elephant in the room. The reason he’s here to begin with. And while part of Leo knows he needs to, most of him is just relieved. Because he really really really doesn’t want to have to say it, because even if Splinter knows, even if his therapist knows, even if it’s already real, it’s different to put it in words. 

It’s just. Every session they have where she doesn’t bring it up feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like it’s going to happen, he just doesn’t know when. And it’s seriously stressing him out, but he’s certainly not gonna be the one to bring it up.

So they talk about school instead. About how the Chemistry teacher doesn’t like him. And the therapist asks why, and Leo almost says because he’s stupid, but catches himself, because he knows she’ll call him out if the word ‘stupid’ even leaves his lips. 

And the stress over is she going to ask about that this time winds tighter and tighter every time until it finally snaps. 

“Are you seriously not going to ask about – y’know?” Leo asks, gesturing vaguely. 

His therapist tilts her head, like she doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. “About what, Leo?” 

More gestures. “The – the whole – the thing. You know what I mean!”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!” Kneejerk, like a flinch. “But I – you’re a therapist, aren’t you supposed to make me talk about that stuff whether I want to or not?”

She sighs, crosses a leg over the other and leans forward a bit. “I can’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about, Leo. Do I think you should talk about it? Yes, absolutely. But I can’t force you, and trying to force you would just damage any trust you have for me. So if you’d like to talk about it, you’re welcome to. But I’m not going to make you.” 

And Leo –

Well. It’s nice, knowing he won’t have to talk about it unless it’s on his own terms. But like his therapist said, he probably should talk about it, and maybe part of him – if a very small part – does kind of want to. And if it’s only on his terms, he doesn’t know if he ever will.

… At the very beginning, in the very first session, she’d asked what his goal in therapy was. He hadn’t known what to say. And he still doesn’t, really, but… maybe that could be a good goal for now, at least. Getting to a point where he can talk about – that. 

He’s not there yet. But he… he thinks he wants to be.

Leo is staring at a blank page.

His fingers hover over the keys, heart pounding in his chest. 

And he hits paste.

The works cited, copied from the website he used to make sure it was formatted properly, fills the page. The last thing he needed to finish this stupid paper. The last assignment left before he’s completely caught up.

It doesn’t really feel real, honestly. Like, he knows he should be thrilled, should be jumping for joy, but instead he’s just – kinda numb. Like his mind doesn’t believe it’s actually true. 

He prints it out, watches as the pages feed out of the printer’s mouth, staples the pages together, and.

And that’s it.

The only thing left to do is turn it in on Monday.

And then he just. Sits there. Unsure, lost.

What… what does he even do now? He’s spent nearly three months agonizing over this, beating himself up over it, nearly – nearly killing himself over it –

(It’s still nowhere near easy for him to say. But at least he can say it.)

– and now it’s just… done. 

He turns to Donnie, sat on the couch next to him working on his own homework, and holds the paper up. Donnie’s eyes go big and round.

“Is that it?” he asks, and Leo nods. Donnie sets his laptop aside and opens his arms, and Leo crashes into them. All the delayed emotion hitting him all at once. He did it. He did it.

“I would like to preface this by saying that I am always proud to have you as a twin,” Donnie says, and tears well up in Leo’s eyes just from that alone. He braces himself for whatever Donnie is going to say next, well aware that even if he tries to prepare himself, it still won’t do much good. “But I have never been prouder than I am right now. And – and to be clear, that is not because of any academic achievements. It’s because you looked at a mountain you thought you’d never be able to climb, and tried anyway, over and over again until you succeeded. Even when you fell down, even when you wanted nothing more than to give up, you got back up and kept going. I am so, so unbelievably proud of you, Hamato Leonardo.”

Leo bursts into tears.

“Ah. Shit,” Donnie says, earning a laugh out of Leo through the crying. “Um. There, there?”

Leo pats Donnie on the back, letting him know he’s okay. Just. Hearing all that is – he doesn’t know how to express how it makes him feel.

There’s a part of him, even now, that wants to downplay it. Say that it’s really not his own effort as much as it was everyone else who helped him. But his therapist is working with him on that, the acceptance that while others did help and support him, all the effort he put in, the decision made every single day to keep trying – those are his alone.

So he bites back the impulse to deny his accomplishment and instead just says, muffled in Donnie’s shoulder, “Thanks, Dee. I – I couldn’t have – done it without you.”

And Donnie doesn’t say anything in response. Just holds Leo closer.

That night at dinner, shy and awkward, Leo asks if they can go to Run of the Mill. 

The way his entire family lights up could power the city for weeks.

They decide on going the next day. Sunday. Leo kind of wants to wait until he actually turns the paper in, but he’s shot down in an instant. 

“We need to celebrate!” Mikey says. “Besides, the goal was to get the work done. Not turned in.”

“Turning it in is a part of getting it done, to be fair,” Donnie points out (thank you, Donnie, for siding with him). “However, I do agree with Michael that we should celebrate today rather than wait. Mostly because I have missed Hueso’s pizza desperately.”

“You could’ve gone,” Leo says, already knowing what the response will be.

And like clockwork, Raph says, “We weren’t gonna go without you, Leo! It’s a family thing. Which means you, in case ya forgot.”

He pokes at Leo, lighthearted, still smiling. Leo can’t help but smile too, already knowing that despite his protests that they should wait, he is absolutely going to cave. 

Splinter calls Hueso to make sure their usual table is free. Leo can’t quite hear the conversation, Splinter’s voice too low to make out, but he doesn’t miss the soft glances Splinter casts his way every now and then. Kind of embarrassing, and Leo ducks his head and looks away, unable to meet his dad’s eyes.

Their reservation, Splinter informs them once he’s hung up, is for six. So they have a few hours before they have to leave.

And Leo remembers he hasn’t told April.

He pulls out his phone and heads to his room, knowing he’ll probably end up crying again from whatever April says and wanting that to not happen in front of his family.

3:07 pm: hey april guess what

3:09 pm: ?? what

3:11 pm: ?????????

3:11 pm: leon i swear to god do Not leave me hangin

3:11 pm: im done

3:12 pm: done??????

3:12 pm: like. with the school stuff? or

3:13 pm: yeah the school stuff

3:13 pm: finished the last paper. gonna hand it in tomorrow

3:14 pm: oh shit

3:15 pm: leo holy shit that’s amazing

3:15 pm: i’m so fucking proud of you you know that right

3:15 pm: i know

3:16 pm: like i would’ve been regardless Duh but

3:17 pm: god i wish i could hug you right now

3:17 pm: i’m so so so so so so proud. genuinely cannot express over text

3:18 pm: would love to call but unfort the boss is around </3

3:18 pm: slfjdsl thanks apes

3:19 pm: we uh

3:19 pm: were goin to rotm tonight. to celebrate

3:20 pm: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3:20 pm: wish you couholy shit that’s a lot of exclamation points

3:20 pm: anyway wish u could come with

3:21 pm: i Need them. so you know how thrilled i am

3:21 pm: and proud of you. did i mention that because i really really am

3:21 pm: i’ll take you next time i’m home okay

3:25 pm: yeah

3:25 pm: tthat sounds good

3:26 pm: love u apes <3 gl at work ill kill ur boss

3:27 pm: thanks leo love you too <33333

Leo falls back onto his bed, an arm thrown over his face to hide the tears. It sometimes feels like his family can’t go five minutes without reminding him that they love him. Not that he’s complaining. He… he kinda needs it. He’s able to admit that, even when he struggles to accept that he deserves it. But the tradeoff is that he ends up really dehydrated, ha.

… Not that bad of a tradeoff, when he thinks about it. 

Run of the Mill is almost exactly the same as Leo remembers it. A few things moved around, a few decorations changed, a few new employees he doesn’t recognize. But overall the same place he loves so much. He steps through the door and breathes in the atmosphere, smile already on his face.

Hueso seats them personally, his usual grumpy self. Though Leo is paying closer attention, this time, and… it’s hard to tell, but he thinks he saw a tiny bit of relief when Hueso saw them walk through the door. Despite complaining about them showing up, just like he always does.

He really does care about them, huh?

It’s easier to see now, with a few months of therapy behind him. Still kinda hard to understand why Hueso would care about Leo in particular. But he can at least accept it. It’s… progress.

They order. Leo (obviously) gets Hawaiian, and Donnie throws a fit like he always does, and Leo reminds him that he doesn’t have to eat it, it’s Leo’s pizza and he’s not sharing. 

They’re still arguing by the time the pizza arrives – though it’s less of an actual argument and more of a play fight, really – causing Hueso to roll his eyes as he sets their food down. Leo thinks he hears a mutter of, “You boys will be the death of me,” before the man makes his way back to the kitchen.

“Both of you shut up and eat your pizza,” Raph says finally, putting a hand on each of the twins’ faces and physically pushing them apart. And Leo could warn Raph what he knows for a fact Donnie is about to do. But it would be so much funnier to watch it play out instead.

So he sits back and lets Donnie chomp down on one of Raph’s fingers. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough that Raph yelps and jerks his hand back, nearly pulling Donnie with him. “Donnie! What the hell?!”

“Donatello, do not bite your brother,” Splinter says, in the weary voice of a man who has dealt with this a thousand times before and was really hoping not to make it a thousand and one. 

“He pushed me,” Donnie says, as if that’s all the explanation needed. Then picks up his pizza slice and takes a bite, clearly expecting that to be the end of it. It’s so matter-of-fact on the end of – of that – that Leo can’t help bursting into giggles. And it doesn’t take long before the others follow, swept up in the feeling of spending time with some of their favorite people in one of their favorite places.

Laughing, heart so full it could burst, and surrounded by his family, Leo takes a bite of his pizza.