Whumptober: Oops, I Did It Again

Whumptober: Oops, I Did It Again

They were about nine when Leonardo's asthma started getting bad. He had always had it, and they all knew it, but the symptoms were less before, now they were persistent. It was probably the more advanced training they got, which was why he had to tap out more often when it acted up, moreso in the winter. It wasn't terrible, but was definitely annoying for him, especially when he was striving to be the best out of them.

%%%

God, NO, why right now?

There it was, the growing wheeze, an inability to breathe, the growing urge to cough, right when Leonardo needed to not have an asthma attack. Splinter had promised to teach them something special on their eleventh mutation day, and low and behold, he had a flare-up right after warm-ups.

Leonardo grit his teeth, swallowing his anger, and clenched his hands into fists before opening one back up and raising it.

"Excuse me, Sensei?" he began politely, catching the attention of his brothers as well, "Can I tap out for this session?"

Splinter looked almost surprised- Scratch that, he was astonished that Leonardo was leaving a lesson he had been so excited for for months. He looked as though he was about to ask why, but the faint wheeze coming from Leonardo filled the silence and answered the question as to why he was asking to sit it out. Splinter nodded, and Leonardo spent the rest of the lesson with a quick-relief in his hands, watching the others go through katas.

Occasionally, his brothers glanced over to him, seeming concerned and guilty, but nothing was said and he only waved, smiling to reassure them.

By the time the lesson was over, the attack had ended, leaving him in a frustrated bubble. He sat there, just a little longer, then shook his head to try and dissipate the anger he felt and stood up.

Maybe next time.

%%%

He was about fourteen when his symptoms started fading. Slowly but surely, he started getting less and less attacks, until they one day faded all together. By the time they were almost fifteen, he was completely free. Donatello said maybe he outgrew his asthma, but he couldn't care less about what happened that caused it, he was free from it!

And just in time for them to go up to the surface.

%%%

The air on the ship was cold.

It was like being in a fridge if you weren't up and active, and even then you'd end up in an uncomfortable, cold sweat. The effects of space, they presumed.

Leonardo didn't realize that his asthma was acting up again until he was wheezing, pausing his katas to figure out what was happening.

Oh heck no.

He thought it was over!

He thought he outgrew his asthma, he wouldn't have to deal with it again!

Leonardo growled quietly, sheathing his katanas and going to Donatello. They always had a good quick-relief on hand, just in case, he had just hoped that they would never need to use it again.

"Don," he whispered to get his brother to look at him, then came closer, “Don, it’s back.”

Donatello tilted his head, confused. “What?”

“My asthma is acting up again. I was just training and it suddenly flared up.”

The genius’ eyes widened in concern as he reached over for the medicine Leonardo was all too familiar with and handed it over to him. Taking a quick puff, Leonardo sighed. The relief, the first time he had done that, was like a miracle, but now it was nothing more than some fast working medication, used to the feeling that followed.

A little while later, the symptoms passed, leaving the two in uncomfortable silence.

“Well,” Donatello started, sounding unsure.

“Well,” Leonardo repeated.

“I guess this means it’s back. Be careful, would you? We don’t want to have a severe attack.”

%%%

Leonardo stared at the ceiling, laying in bed, awake.

A familiar wheeze filled the room, making no space for silence.

He groaned softly, sitting up. There would be no sleep that night, he could already tell. Looking over to the inhaler that Donatello had given him, he considered using it, then shook his head. It wasn’t too bad, he could do without it.

Instead of staying in his room, he decided to move to the common area. Maybe he could wait it out? Leonardo grabbed his inhaler and moved slowly, not wanting to aggravate it too much.

The wheezing got worse.

It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe by the minute, and breaking down into coughing didn't make it any better.

He grit his teeth and took a short breath of the medication, leaning back against the wall and sliding down.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes.

The quick-relief wasn't working, why wasn’t the quick-relief working?

Leonardo tried to steady himself before the panic grew unmanageable. Worrying would only make it worse, he needed to stay calm.

...Too late, apparently.

His heart trimmed nervously against his ribcage, trying to free itself from his prison. It was getting worse. He needed Donatello soon.

Leonardo fumbled for his shell-phone, he always had it with his brothers on speed dial. A low, quiet ring started up, waiting for Donatello to pick up. He tapped the phone case, waiting, waiting-

"Hello?"

"Don," Leonardo gasped, "It's happening again. The quick-relief didn't work."

Donatello's breathing hitched. "Where are you?"

"Hallway between the common room and my room."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

Donatello hung up almost immediately, and a few moments later, he was in front of Leonardo, holding a pill bottle and a glass that was mostly filled with crushed ice, and just enough water to take one or two pills.

"Do you feel alright enough to drink without choking?"

Leonardo nodded stiffly, and took the pill and water handed to him, sipping carefully so he wouldn't end up accidentally drowning himself.

A little later, breathing got easier, and Leonardo reveled in it, taking deep breaths and sighing softly. He sucked on some of the ice while waiting to see if Donatello would initiate the conversation. When the other remained silent, he swallowed, paused, and finally asked.

"Why did this happen?" he asked softly and traced shapes into the condensation on the side of the glass, "Why is it back?"

"Well…" Donatello began and faltered, then shook his head, "I'm not sure. Sometimes asthma can be triggered by extreme stress, and there's been plenty of that around lately. Also, cold, dry air helps in triggering attacks as well. It may just be the environment and current mood.

"...So, I guess we're back on asthma watch?"

"Mhm."

"Shoot."

Whumptober: That’s Where The Blood’s Supposed To Be

In hindsight, this really wasn't his best plan.

The enemy was kind of like Rocksteady. They were big, sturdy, incredibly strong, and notoriously hard to take down. So, his plan was simple. It was a long abandoned theater. Tall columns, a lot of open space, and nothing that would be missed too terribly once it was. The plan was even simple, for the first time in a very, very long time. They were going to lead the enemy- Chad, as Michelangelo had named him in a creative stump- Into the center of the open theater, then set off the bombs that were attached to the columns. Said columns would then collapse and bury "Chad" underneath. Even if it didn't completely put him out of commission, it would at least immobilize him for a bit.

Of course, it went wrong. The bombs went off on time, and they did get Chad down. However, somehow he completely managed to miss the fact that once the columns went down, so would the rest of the building. The whole place was falling apart, and still they fought. People would die if they didn't.

He got hit. A rather large piece of debris hit Leonardo's shoulder, followed by a loud, reverberating pop. The dislocation was enough to stun him into stillness for just long enough to get hit. Of course he tried to duck out of the way, to move so that he could avoid injury. By the time it registered, though, it was too late.

Leonardo stumbled back, squeezing between two boulders and gripping the side of his hide. Lightning bolts of pain met him, and when he pulled his hand away, he only saw scarlet.

Scarlet was not good.

Chad was outside, working to tear him out of his hiding place, but Leonardo paid him no attention. He only looked at the red dripping from his face, clouding his vision, and trailing outside.

He placed his hand back on the side of his head, placing pressure where there was pain. Pressure was good. Vibrant red was not.

The banging outside stopped. Instead, there were voices. When did the banging stop? His head was spinning and his hand was slipping. Something in the back of his head screamed wrong. He could usually trust his gut. His mind was right. Maybe he would stay where he was until the sound stopped.

But then there were mahogany eyes and a purple mask. Don’t move, they said. Donatello's mouth was moving. It made no sound.

Please.

Donatello pulled his hand away from his head, and his panic spiked momentarily. He needed the pressure, he didn't want to die-

Now the pressure was back, cold and welcoming against the warmth of the blood on his face. Right, the red was blood. Bleeding meant he was injured.

They were outside. When did they get outside? He remembered crawling into that rock shelter with the building falling apart around him. Now he was in front of a pile of rubble, multiple blurs of green fussing over him.

"It's still bleeding!" He caught a glimpse of their conversation, and strained to hear the rest. "We need to get home or in the Shellraiser soon. Somewhere where I have more medical equipment than this!"

It was that bad? He needed to get up or do something to help, but his body wouldn't move, wouldn't respond to his commands.

Leonardo was next under a bright, near blinding light. He could smell chemicals and copper. Copper? Copper was bad. Somebody gripped his hands, whispering apologies and trying to reassure him.

No, not him. They were trying to reassure themselves.

"Not- Your fault," he whispered with a smile. If they needed reassurance, he would give it.

%%%

"This is my fault," Donatello whispered, staring at bandages that were finally staying white.

"It's still bleeding!" He was right, too. The bandages were running out, but they were still turning red. That wound needed to be closed or else it would never stop bleeding.

Well, he finally closed it. It was carefully stitched up, a neat row of black lines along the side of his head.

"Donnie-" Michelangelo started from where he was sitting.

"No, Mikey, listen. I’m the doctor, I’m supposed to make sure that people don't die. He almost bled out and-"

"No-"

Wait what. Wait, what. How was he even talking?

"My plan," Leonardo murmured, still not opening his eyes, "My fault."

"Leo, please don't-"

"'M so tired… Don't blame yourself, mkay? Shoulda seen it comin'."

"Leo, this wasn't your fault, you don't have to see every future that could possibly happen, please-"

His pleading and rambling fell on deaf ears. Sleep was not a good thing when they didn't know what kind of head injury they were looking at.

Whumptober: I’ve Got Red In My Ledger

Leonardo spun forward, slicing his blades down on anything that came near him in a deadly dance. Behind him, he could hear Raphael doing almost the same, anything that dared attack violently killed. He was enjoying himself, too.

Donatello and Michelangelo were definitely doing just fine, too, used to these enemies. Leonardo was pleased, glad to see them finally independent in battle.

Above them, Karai provided support, suddenly taking down an enemy that was getting a bit too close with a throwing sword or kunai, lunging down and stabbing one in the head before returning to her previous position, keeping herself both helpful and available.

Their enemies, the Kraang, were cleared out quickly with an ethic like that, nothing but metallic corpses left around, still and unmoving.

"Was that it?" Raphael called, sounding vaguely disappointed.

"It should be," Donatello chirped back as he picked around one of the bodies.

"I hope it was," Leonardo looked his swords over. Darn, he really needed to get back into the care routine he had before the space thing that happened, however he was supposed to explain that. One of the blades was chipped.

Michelangelo engaged in a game of catch with Karai, using a head as a ball while the rest of them poked around for anything useful, shouting taunts to get her off guard.

A pillar moved.

Leonardo would have brushed it off as a trick of the light, but, being as paranoid as he was, he found himself moving towards it instead.

He could have sworn he saw it move, in the far corner of the room, even if it was just a slight shift to the right-

It moved again, the cracks between plates that seemed like an artistic trend in anything made by Kraang widening.

"Guys?" Leonardo called, the panic in his voice showing as he took a few very large steps back.

The pillar was definitely moving now, slowly expanding as plates moved to reveal bunched up limbs that grabbed at whatever solid support was near to move itself upward.

Oh.

Well. That sucked.

The creature that stood before him reminded him of that one robot samurai they had to fight that one time. (He never remembered the names of the things they had to fight, but he was fairly certain that one’s name was Chrome Dome or something like that).

Behind him, banter and play stopped, everyone bracing for… Whatever Michelangelo planned on naming it.

Then it lunged.

And God was it fast. It moved fast enough to force them to try and keep up, struggling more and more by the second as they had already been coming down from their previous battle. Their mistake. Weapons bounced off its metal plating unless you were specifically aiming for the gaps between its main body and its limbs. Even then, that was risky, close range, and not likely to work. After an especially rough blow to the plastron that he was sure broke his ribs, Leonardo was not too eager to try that again.

Still, they had to have put an emergency shut-down in there somewhere, just in case it went haywire. The Kraang were probably just as hesitant about fighting as they were, right?

Shifting to a more evasive fighting style, Leonardo began to keep an eye out for something they could use as a weak spot, anything that would help them take it down. Already, he was hurting, and he could see that the others were too, blood dripping from various injuries caused by an arsenal of weapons.

It always had a weak spot, there was no way that this one didn’t have one too.

There, on its shoulder, and of course it was somewhere that it could reach.

Leonardo considered, for a moment, that he was getting too old for this, even though he was only just getting into his 20s.

But Karai was in a good spot to hit it, it would really only take one hit, and it would all be over.

“There’s a shut-down on its right shoulder,” he pointed out, getting a couple glances from the others, “Try to grab it if you can!”

With that pointed out to the others, he glanced up to Karai, looking to her for assistance.

And she, noting that he needed her help, catching his glance, paused to look the battle over, then smirked and back out, taking their entry to get out.

Freaking he-

Leonardo ducked down and snaked backwards to avoid getting hit, and heard Raphael yell something after Karai that he didn’t catch. It probably wasn’t that important anyway. What was important though, was actually paying attention to the task at hand.

Gliding over to Michelangelo, Leonardo nudged him, signaling from his chains to the robot (had Michelangelo named it already? There hadn’t been a lot of commentary this time around). It seemed to click almost immediately, and Leonardo stepped back to avoid getting in the way as Michelangelo threw the weapon in a curve, then darted around to grab it and wrap it around the metallic soldier.

Going round and round until he had it secured, Michelangelo bounced back to Leonardo, struggling to hold it and silently requesting assistance. While the oldest and youngest grappled the chains, fighting to hold it still, a sai went flying over their heads and into the hand of Donatello, who promptly adjusted his grip on the weapon and went clambering up the enemy’s back, sai raised to-

It- It collapsed.

The chains slackened as it crumpled to the ground, unmoving, and Donatello hopped off to avoid falling. For a long moment, everyone was silent.

“Did- Did you get it?” Michelangelo asked tentatively.

“No-” Donatello almost shrieked, looking it over.

“So it just shut down on its own?” Raphael eyed the body suspiciously, as if it might get up and start moving at any second.

“I don’t know Raph, it just suddenly fell, I didn’t do anything to it!”

They all paused, still watching, still waiting, just in case it got back up. Leonardo tightened his grip on the chains and pulled back slightly to tighten them. That way, if it did try again, they would already have it down. He’s restrained large creatures before, it wasn’t like he couldn’t do it again.

Seconds turned to minutes without any sign of life, and slowly, they relaxed, gathering up weapons and turning to leave. It wasn’t up anymore, and they had finished up everything else they needed to do, so there really wasn’t much point in staying anymore. After all, they were injured, too, they needed to take care of those. Donatello could only work so fast in the middle of a fight, so any stitches he had to give while they were out of sight were hastily done.

On their way down to the sewers, Raphael rambled about the stunt Karai pulled, clearly angry at her. Leonardo silently lamented as he still didn’t trust their sister as he talked, bracing for raised voices and insults.

“Raph,” he began, trying to keep his voice soft, “calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

“I’m getting worked up over nothing ?!” Raphael whirled on his heel, snarling at Leo, “She left us in the middle of a fight, Leo! I’m not going to calm down! You brought her here, this is  your fault!”

“It was probably a misunderstanding, Raph. She’s been on our side for a long time now. Please just lower your voice, at least.”

Raphael was still wound up from the battle, Leonardo could see it in his face and in his posture. Tense, squared up, jumpy. His adrenaline was still going, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to agitate him further.

And he was staring, he was silent. Raphael wasn’t usually silent when he was angry, what was going on-?

Leonardo reeled back when Raphael lashed out at him, but not fast enough. There was a sharp crack, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his beak long before the pain actually registered. There was blood on the hothead’s knuckles, too, but he looked like something had suddenly clicked and he was definitely regretting what he did.

Leonardo, however, could not find the energy in himself to really care.

Raphael almost immediately began feverishly apologizing while Donatello tried to peer past Leonardo’s hand at his beak, scolding Raphael for striking out like that. Michelangelo yelled something along the lines of “that was uncalled for”.

“Leo, move your hand,” Donatello ordered, and Leonardo obeyed, pulling his hand away and seeing red. Oh, great.

“Well,” The resident doctor announced after a long moment, “I’m pretty sure it’s broken, but we’ll find out once we get home. Raph, when this is over, we are going to have a very long talk.”

Leonardo “hmm”ed softly as they started walking again, wiping blood off his face. The pain was, in the moment, actually manageable. It wasn’t too terrible, he really didn’t understand what the big deal was. Faces were easy to break anyway, he was fine as long as it didn’t really affect anything.

%%%

Once home, Donatello approached Leonardo with the first aid kit, clearly wanting to go to him first since he possibly had his beak broken.

But one glance over Donatello, and Leonardo knew that he should probably get some care first.

“Don, take a look at yourself, first. If you’re bleeding all over the place you can’t take care of anybody else.”

The purple-clad opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with him over that, before realizing that no, it was not an argument he was going to win. He lingered for a long moment, then turned away to deal with the others first. Leonardo smirked, knowing he had won, and turned his attention to cleaning his katanas and figuring out the best way to repair the chip in the blade.

Eventually, when Donatello returned, bandaged and looking a little more than annoyed, he grabbed Leonardo’s face and made him look at the genius before slowly bandaging his beak. Leonardo said nothing, although the movements jostled whatever was broken and made it sting, he refused to wince or hiss over something so small. While Donatello went on to cleaning and bandaging the other injuries, he confirmed his earlier suspicion.

“It is broken.”

Raphael flinched, like that was the worst thing in the world (Leonardo knew it was guilt, but didn’t say anything about that).

“Oh,” he said, mulling it over. Like he said, it wasn’t too bad, it was only his beak.

“What do you mean oh?” Donatello’s voice raised slightly, almost into a screech.

“I mean, it's not really that bad, right? It's not gonna, y’know, affect anything, it just hurts.”

Everybody blinked, astonished, before it clicked that of course Leonardo would be so unbothered by it, he was just Leonardo, he didn’t really have the energy, nor the will to care about things like that anymore.

Donatello scowled and Raphael still apologized anyway, Michelangelo was silent across the room, staring at Leonardo.

Leonardo had to cut Raphael off. It was fine, he was angry too, he knew that they still didn’t fully trust Karai, it was fine, it was fine.

He could still tell that Raphael was beating himself up about it, though. It was always clear, the hothead was like an open book.

%%%

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

Raphael groaned and rolled over to slap the hand shaking him, presuming that it could only be Michelangelo.

Instead, the hand he grabbed was far more callused from endless hours of training, scarred from brutal battles that were long past.

He paused, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to get his head working. They had to fight blind plenty of times, they all learned to recognize each other just by the feel of their scales and hands. There was only one person who trained enough to get his hands that rough, free of childish innocence and soft skin.

“Leo?” Raphael mumbled, slowly sitting up and yawning, “What is it?”

“I need you to come with me, we’re supposed to meet up with Karai,” Leonardo whispered in the dark, still invisible to Raphael. They were-

“What?”

“Mhm. She texted me like, an hour ago. She wants to explain to the two of us. You, because you were so upset and me because, y’know.”

“Oh.”

Raphael blinked a few more times. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and he could see a burning gaze fixated on him. It was almost creepy. After all, Leonardo always managed to be the stealthiest of them, so it was like those horror movies, just seeing a shadow, then bright eyes reflecting dim light and just. Staring.

He grunted and kicked out weakly to move the older of the two before he crawled out of bed, yawning again and stretching. “Alright, alright, let's go.” He didn’t even have his mask on yet, but this was clearly something that Leonardo wanted to get to quickly, and considering that Raphael planned on getting back to sleep immediately, he wasn’t too eager about getting his gear on for this event.

As they got going, he kept his eye on the bandages over his brother’s beak. Frick- He did that? Why? What was even his point? Instead of asking if Leonardo was angry, what came out was:

“Why'd she only want us to come?”

“Me and her are closer and you're more distrustful. Don and Mikey are just neutral towards her, she assumed they’d be less angry about it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is right. Move faster, we'll be late at this rate.”

“It's the middle of the day for humans, Leo.”

“And? She will leave if we take too long.”

They neared what Raphael could only assume was the meeting spot, the roar of water getting louder until it was almost deafening. By the waterfall, Karai was leaned up against the wall, and Raphael’s rage flared up. That little-

He paused for just a second, trying to take deep breaths and soothe his anger. Something bad had already come out of it, he didn’t need anymore guilt on his mind.

Still, she smiled at them like nothing had happened, and didn’t even move to stand up straight. He wanted to wring her neck because of it. No apology? Nothing? No “sorry for abandoning you when you needed help”?

“What’s up?” she greeted casually, like nothing happened.

“You know what’s up,” he snarled, unable to help himself from snarking at her.

"Raph," Leonardo whisper-hissed, "Don't yell at her." After a moment to compose himself, the eldest met Karai's gaze evenly. "Still, we do want to know: Why?"

"Yeah, about that," Karai began, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't really, y'know mean anything by it. I just knew an easier way to take it down quickly, and well, it'd be faster to do that, too, so…"

As she trailed off, Raphael shrank where he stood.

Oh. It really was a misunderstanding.

Leonardo nodded as if he understood what she had done and why she had done it. He probably did, too.

"Sorry, it uh, it probably looked like I was just leaving, huh? And uh, you're all definitely worse for wear."

Leonardo thanked her for apologizing, and Raph felt nothing as his brother did. that was not what he needed to make his night better.

Before he realized it, Leonardo was poking him, telling him Karai left a bit ago, he was waiting for Raphael to process, and they needed to go. Raphael nodded stiffly and walked in a daze, head down.

"You were right," Raphael mumbled at some point, getting a look and a "hm?". "It was just a misunderstanding. Sorry about- Y'know, about hitting you."

Leonardo stared for a long minute, leaving Raphael in uncomfortable silence for a bit before smiling, "It's alright, I already told you that, Raph.”

And there he went, just accepting the apology like it was nothing, because he was Leonardo.

Raphael turned on the TV when they got back, switching the channel to the news before settling down, unable to sleep. Leonardo, apparently, had the same idea, sitting down next to him. This time, silence was far more cozy. When they fell asleep there, nobody said a word about it in the morning.

Whumptober: Trust Fall

In the dark, shadows crept along the wall, glints from white eyes being the only sign that it was not just a trick of the light.

Unseen by guards and enemies, a group of four darted across the building, heading for the basement, and the core. On their way, they took out enemies and guards, lowering their chance of being seen with less people around to see them.

As they neared a large computer with screens facing all around, four split into pairs of two. Red and purple stayed by the computer, while orange and blue split off to wander around the border, taking down any patrols that risked discovering the middle pair.

Michelangelo yawned and grinned at Leonardo, giving him a friendly nudge while they were lingering by a doorway.

"Hey, Leo-!"

"Shh!" Leonardo hushed him quickly, elbowing him in the ribs, "Not the time, nor the place!"

Michelangelo pouted, but gave up while they continued on with their patrol around the bordering. The youngest's gaze drifted around lazily, bored to death by the lack of conversation and- Hey, was that a..?

Oh.

That felt… really important.

And probably like something he should tell Leonardo.

"Hey, Leo?"

"What?"

"Uh… That looks. Important." Michelangelo pointed to what he spotted, and saw Leonardo's expression shift to horror immediately.

It was a camera, angled directly at them and tracking their movements. Both of them stilled, knowing that they had both messed up. 

They were being watched.

They both backed up, and, after the camera had been pointed out, a voice came over the speakers. Razhaar.

"We know you're here," he growled over the microphone, voice teasing like they had already won, "get running, little piggies."

Leonardo and Michelangelo turned on their heel and ran for their lives, regrouping with Raphael and Donatello.

"Don, you done?" Leonardo asked, an urgency to his voice that wasn't there before.

Donatello nodded, giving them the good-to-go as he pulled the USB out of the computer.

With that, they took off, needing to get out fast.

The halls were... Eerily silent, there was not a sound to be heard as they ran. Which, was odd, and honestly concerning. They would have thought that the halls would be swarming with guards- No, there they are. They were all focused on the exits, trying to trap the team inside.

They skidded to a halt, bracing themselves for a fight and unsheathing weapons in preparation for what was to come. The guards spotted them quickly, and rushed them, dashing forward like they thought they had a chance.

The Foot bots were taken down quickly to avoid them adapting to their fighting styles, each member of the team moving fluidly across the area to assist others. And, just as quickly as it started, it was over.

With every enemy down, they went running for the exit, getting out while they still could. Raphael and Donatello took the lead, the genius holding valuable information at the moment, while Michelangelo and Leonardo held the rear for the time being.

Michelangelo looked behind them and froze up. He was scared, something gripped him and he stopped moving. He just couldn't move, he was afraid, there were more guards coming and they needed to leave-

"Hey," Leonardo held his shoulder, tense, but smiling gently to soothe him, "You good?"

Michelangelo still couldn't run, but he nodded, even as Leonardo positioned himself between the youngest and the approaching enemies. He missed the way Leonardo glanced up, then back, before back at Michelangelo. Leaning down ever so slightly, he cocked his head to the side.

"Mikey, you trust me, right?"

"Huh?"

"Do you trust me?"

What kind of question was that? Of course he did. Leonardo always had their backs. He was right there for them, all the time. Of course he trusted him. So, he nodded.

In the back, Donatello and Raphael called for them, sounding antsy.

Leonardo smiled wider, and Michelangelo felt soothed, like a child comforted by their mother.

"Good."

Suddenly, Michelangelo was shoved backwards, and he staggered, falling down and looking to Leonardo in question-

Leonardo smiled, and waved, before stepping back himself in time for a wall to come crashing down. Michelangelo screamed, loud and wordless as he scrambled back up and threw himself against the wall, slamming his fists into it and yelling his brother's name, yelling for the oldest.

No, nononono-!

He had been so calm just a second ago, why did that have to be taken away?!

Beside him, Raphael and Donatello appear, screaming themselves hoarse.

"Leo!"

From the other side, there was one, single tap, Leonardo's response.

"Guys," he called, and all of them fell silent, apprehensive, "you need to go, alright? I know another way out. I'll be fine, I'll meet you at the lair when this is all over."

Michelangelo whimpered. Donatello looked down. Raphael curled his hands into fists. Nobody said a word for a long moment.

Then, Donatello broke the silence. "You better keep your word, alright Leo? You have a very bad track record of lying."

"Alright," Leonardo called, his voice slowly fading, as if he was walking away, "Just get out and don't wait up, alright?"

Raphael swallowed and nodded, then signaled for them to follow after him. Donatello followed hesitantly, and Michelangelo just ran. He had already hurt them by not moving once, that's how Leonardo got trapped, and he refused to let that happen again.

%%%

Leonardo did not come back. They waited hours, constantly checking the clock, calling and texting him like they thought it would do something, waiting, waiting.

Leonardo did not come back.

A lone tear slid down Michelangelo's face.

Whumptober: Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones But...

When their friends had questions, it was usually a normal question; “How are you?” “What’s going on?” “Do you guys need anything?” But sometimes, it was something more touchy, and definitely something harder to talk about. Such as the scar on Raph’s face, reaching from the edge of his jawline down to right above his plastron.

None of them wanted to talk about it, obviously, but when Casey or April set their mind to something, they were determined to succeed.

Michelangelo, when asked, smirked, started to tell the story, then dodged the question with some kind of prank or a distraction, brushing it off with light-hearted jokes and fun times.

Donatello got flustered, stammering and trying to find something to say before mumbling about a project he needed to get done and locking himself away in his lab.

Leonardo reacted far more calmly, meeting their gaze and saying that he was supposed to be doing something, he needed to train, needed to sharpen his swords, he was really overwhelmed and wanted to meditate, had to help one of his brothers with something, and for the most part, he was telling the truth. For the most part, they left him alone afterwards.

Of course, for obvious reasons, they never went to Raphael himself to ask him about it, most likely believing it to be something sensitive to him.

And, sure, he was thankful, but sometimes it got frustrating. Seriously, why couldn’t they just ask? It wasn’t like he’d be sad about it, he thought the scar was cool.

See, it went something like this-

%%%

They were thirteen, a reasonable age to be getting into trouble. At that age, the lair was never quiet, somebody always up to something.

This time, Michelangelo was being an idiot. He pulled a prank on Raphael, and, even though it was just meant to be fun, had accidentally brought the wrath of the hot-head upon him.

Per usual, that prank ended with Michelangelo getting chased down by the second oldest and screaming at the top of his lungs while trying to gather up pillows as he went by the couch to defend himself. Raphael, being bigger and faster than the proclaimed youngest, tackled him down to the floor in a decking that would’ve made any hockey player proud.

Also per usual, it was up to Leonardo to interfere, getting a hold of Raphael and, quite literally, dragging him off of Michelangelo while he screeched about something unintelligible.

But, Raphael did not need Leonardo trying to soothe his frayed nerves right then, he was an inferno at the moment, and only wanted violence.

“Oh my God!” Raphael exclaimed, elbowing Leonardo in the shin to the best of his ability, “Do you mind? You’re not better than us, Golden Boy! Stop acting like you are!”

“Wh-” Leonardo blinked a couple times, clearly astonished by this outburst, then yelled back, “I am not! I don’t act like that, I’m just trying to keep you from beating the living crap out of Mikey!”

“Then why don’t you fight me? You’re acting pretty confident right now.”

Splinter, in the background, watched on, silent, to see how they would react to the fight within the team, even as Leonardo looked to him for help with Raphael’s temper.

There was a long-suffering sigh as Raphael’s struggles died down and Leonardo’s grip loosened before he nodded in agreement.

"Fine, Bonehead.”

Raphael let out a victorious laugh and wiggled up to his feet, marching off to the dojo while Leonardo rubbed his temples to ward off the rapidly approaching headache before following shortly after.

When Leonardo got there, Raphael already had his sai out, twirling them and wearing a crooked grin as he waited for Leonardo to draw his swords.

“Raph, you frickin' idiot.”

Raphael only smiled wider and crouched, delighted when Leonardo mirrored his movements with an exasperated sigh.

As soon as the elder was ready, he lurched forward, slamming into Leonardo full-force. The blue-clad grunted from the weight of the other, then pushed back with his katanas to shove Raphael off of him.

Chasing after the younger brother, Leonardo brought the katanas down in a long slice to force Raphael to raise up his own weapons so that he could catch the attack, trying to force him into a corner and keep him on his toes, moving faster so that the hothead wouldn’t even have the time to strike back.

Raphael struggled, trying to dart in and get a good hit at Leonardo, but he definitely hadn’t expected Leonardo to be so serious about this fight. Then- He saw his opening, Leonardo made the mistake of leaving his right side open for an attack, and he took the chance.

Raphael darted forward, slamming the hilt of one of his sais into the other’s side, and grinning when Leonardo staggered, a short gasp leaving him. Now the tables had turned, and Leonardo was getting forced up against a wall by the hothead. Back, back, back and-!

The hothead froze and hopped back as a katana went flying by his head. He watched as it embedded itself into the wall, almost up to the hilt, and forgot all about the spar until he was going down, the other blade still held by his brother, and pressed to his throat.

Leo had the audacity to smirk after that unfair win, before he pulled the sword away.

“Really, Raph, if you were so intent on winning, you would’ve kept your eyes on me, and not the loose katana-”

The mentioned brother grit his teeth as Leonardo taunted him, then stood up and glared like he wished he could kill the other with his eyes.

“This is what I’m talking about! You’re acting like you’re better than me right now, like you wouldn’t have done the same! I just-” Raphael cut off in a wordless scream, grabbing the sides of his head before turning on his heel and storming out. He didn’t care where, he just had to be out of the lair.

There was a certain area they couldn’t go past without explicit permission from Splinter, but it was far from home, so he went there, looking for somewhere far, far away that would allow him to calm down.

And. There was a ladder. They weren’t supposed to go up to the surface, but it was even farther and-

No, no. He was not supposed to go up, so he wouldn't. Raphael looked away and started pacing, hands curled into tight fists, but, his gaze drifted back to that ladder, then up to the manhole.

What the- He grit his teeth and silently scolded himself for considering it again. He really needed to move away from that thing if it was going to be a temptation-

He looked back, one more time, and sighed. It would just be a short trip to the surface, nothing quick or serious. Once he had calmed down, he would come back into the sewers, go home, and everything would be alright.

Raphael grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder and glanced up before slowly beginning to climb, testing how sturdy it was before moving up higher.

After an experimental push at the manhole cover, he was pleased to see that it went up without a problem. And, as he slowly crawled out, he paused to gape. The sky was almost black, lit up by a dim orange, but the city itself was brighter than the moon, lights sparkling like stars.

He was taken aback, mouth half open before he realized that he shouldn't just linger there. So, he crawled out, slowly set the manhole cover back in its place, and stood straight up. But once he was done gawking at the surface, his anger came back full force. What a way to ruin his moment of peace.

He tested the fire escape to his right first to make sure it wouldn't fall apart as soon as he tried to pull himself up, then went racing up it to get to the top. Raphael breathed in deep, enjoying the cool breeze from the rooftop before beginning to pace, muttering about his insufferable brother.

And then, there were some dudes cackling. That shouldn't have been so alarming, but something in Raphael screamed that it was wrong, he needed to go see it. 

As Raphael approached the edge of the building, he squinted at the people below, and immediately felt the rage boil up in him. It was four grown men harassing one girl. From the looks of it, they were mugging her.

His lip curled up in a snarl as he felt around his belt, looking for a kunai or throwing star or something like that. Once he had it, he tossed it down and heard it clatter. The men turned to look, giving the girl a chance to run, and after they had realized it was a weapon, they glanced up to where he was hiding, although they couldn't see him yet.

"Who's there?" One of them growled, one with a big, winding tattoo over his neck and right shoulder.

Raphael dropped down, not thinking clearly about the odds of the battle. After all, he had been training all his life, what could they do?

One or two of them paused, eyes widening at the sight of him before shaking the initial shock off, getting ready. The others were already stanced up, ready for a fight.

...Needless to say, it went badly. They were many, he was alone. They were adults and he was barely even a teenager. He was way in over his head, and ended up held down by a pair of them while one looked him over, and the other examined his sai. 

"Jesus..." The one to his left muttered, looking him over while he kicked and writhed.

"This thing," The dude in front of him, Tattoo Guy, crouched and reached his hand out, "Is ugly as-"

He yelled and pulled his hand back as Raph reached forward and snapped at his hand.

"Stupid-" he growled, rubbing his hand. Then, he turned to the dude still holding Raph's sai and held his hand out, "Hey, hand me one of those, aight? I'm gonna teach it a lesson for bothering us."

Raphael's stomach dropped, a chill running down his spine. He thrashed harder as the weapons were exchanged, trying to get away, they were gonna hurt him-

"Hold it still, don't wanna kill it."

Somebody grabbed his head, restraining him and forcing him to look up. He squeezed his eyes shut as the weapon was raised, and-!

A scream tore its way from his throat as they carved it through his skin, leaving a burning cut from his jawline to the tip of his plastron. Raphael began to writhe, pushing against them as they stood up and kept their grip on him. Somebody kicked him and then he was getting dragged along the concrete and shoved into the back of a truck.

He could hear them laughing while he shrunk into a corner, shivering and afraid.

Were they- Were they gonna take him? He should have just stayed home, then he could've avoided this whole mess-

They cackled in the front of the truck, he could hear them through the wall, and the engine started up before they started driving. He wasn't entirely sure how long it had been, but eventually, they stopped and the doors to the back opened.

Raphael got grabbed roughly by the arm, their grip tightening almost to a crushing point as they dragged him out, into the back alley, and then kicked him down.

Those sadists were definitely having fun with it, throwing him down and kicking him around while he was injured and unarmed. When they got bored and finished up, they opened up a manhole (his gateway to home, yes!) and threw him down inside before closing the cover after him and leaving.

He hit the ground hard, his shell contacting the concrete with a sickening thud, and knocking the air right from his lungs.

Raphael blinked, chest heaving even though nothing would enter his lungs. He laid there for a long moment, stunned from the fall, bruises throbbing and blood running down his face.

He. He didn’t want to go home, he realized after air started entering his body again.

Sure, there was help there, and it was definitely safe, but he didn’t want to have to face the others injured. Besides, they weren’t supposed to be going up to the surface, he knew that rule as well as any of his brothers.

Instead, he slowly propped himself up on his arms, taking deep breaths to try and get rid of the last of the shock from falling before standing shakily. Raphael teetered for a moment, and he had to brace himself on the wall to avoid falling back down. Once steady, he wandered over to the part of the sewers that he knew he had been supposed to stay in.

When he was safe, and somewhere that he supposed people wouldn’t find him, he raised a hand to touch the injury, wincing and pulling his hand away immediately after. Jeez- That was a lot of blood. Hadn’t Donatello said something about how much heads bleed? Maybe the nerd had actually said something useful for once.

Then he realized that there were footsteps and froze before pressing himself up against the wall, looking for a hiding place, somewhere he wouldn’t get caught-

“Raph?”

Oh. It was- It was just Leonardo. Of course it was just Leonardo, because he was always the one who found them first.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice impossibly soft, because it was Leonardo.

“Go away,” Raphael rasped, still holding the bleeding side of his face, “I don’t wanna see you right now.”

“Raph, look at me.”

“No.”

“I said look at me-!”

Leonardo grabbed Raphael, and before the younger of the two could even react, he had been turned around to face the oldest, and he knew that Leonardo could see the blood now, he could see the bruises and scrapes, and shoot, he looked concerned. Raphael could only feel bad, because now his brother went looking for him, already worried, just to find him hurt.

“Oh,” Leonardo said dumbly, probably at a loss for words, “I see.”

“It’s really nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, Leo. It’s not deep-”

Leonardo tightened his grip on Raphael’s shoulder to shut him up, meeting his gaze clearly. “You realize how long you’ve been gone? You left an hour ago, Raph. We all went looking for you, and we couldn’t find you, because there’s not much to be seen in this little space of sewer. Mikey got cold, Donnie had to check on something, and I stayed, I kept looking for you and even asked for permission to go further in the sewers, just in case.

And then? I found blood, Raph, I found your blood, leading here. You freaking scared me, I thought you were really hurt, or worse!”

And of course, Leonardo found his blood, that hyper-aware son of a gun- The nicknamed “Fearless” was afraid, for him- And his brother was still going, now bombarding him with questions about it.

“Who did this to you? Where are they? How’d this happen? You need to see Sensei or Don, are you alright? You look pale, we really need to get back, everybody is worried and-”  Leonardo cut off as Raphael sniffled, looking down and not at him anymore.

He rubbed his eyes, sniffled again, and then sobbed, crumpling down and taking Leonardo with him as he cried.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-! I just-” he gasped for air between the sobs, a low whine leaving him before he kept going, “I got so angry, and I didn’t want to stay down here, I felt trapped and I went up to the surface,” Leonardo's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, thankfully, letting the younger tell his story, “I- I got up to a roof and I heard these dudes laughing, they were mugging this girl, Leo! They were gonna hurt her so- So I interfered, and I know you’re gonna say that was risky but I couldn’t just do nothing! They ganged up and took me down, and kicked me around some to rub it in,” he doesn’t mention that they were hurtful verbally, too. That part wasn’t important, “Then- Then they dumped me back in the sewers about a mile or two back, and I came here.”

He realized that Leonardo was digging his fingers into his own thigh, eye ridges furrowed as his jaw tensed. He was angry, and Raphael couldn't help but wonder-

“Are you mad at me..?”

Leonardo paused, and his facial expression relaxed. In fact, he almost looked hurt by the question, gaze softening as he looked Raphael over.

After a long moment of silence, he answered, his conviction clear in his answer, “...Not at you, I’m not angry at you, I’m the one who made you go up in the first place. I’m angry at them. They’re stupid and cruel, and you’re one of the coolest people I know.”

“...Leo, you only know four people.”

“Shut up and take the compliment before I take it back.”

Raphael sniffled again and then laughed softly, shoulders shaking from it. “Alright, fine, fine. I know I’m cool, anyway.”

Leonardo grinned, wide and happy, and Raphael was a little relieved that the other was feeling better. He was, too, he realized. Somehow, that dork had managed to cheer him up (and he’d have to thank him for it later, but not verbally. He’d find something nice or Space Heroes-related and leave it in his room for him).

“I’ll be right back,” Leonardo said suddenly, standing up and racing off.

Raphael paused, confused at the sudden disappearance of his brother. What the..? But he didn’t leave, he just leaned back and waited, picking at the bandages on his hands while he waited. When Leonardo returned, it was with some bandages, water, and disinfectant, and he was beaming, proud of what he had done.

Without speaking, he crouched back down, cleaning up the injury to keep it from infecting. Raphael hissed and winced from the sting as it fizzed, but he made sure to be nice and still while Leonardo worked on bandaging him up.

But, as he was finishing up- “I’m gonna kill those people..” Leonardo had muttered it, just barely loud enough for Raphael to hear, but it was definitely concerning to hear.

“Wait- What?” he had to double-check to make sure that he had heard the other correctly.

“What ‘what’? I didn’t say anything, we need to get home anyway. I’m sure if you’re honest, Splinter won’t be too harsh with the punishment for going up,” Leonardo brushed that off way too casually, standing up.

“No wait-” Raphael stammered, hopping up after him.

“I said, let’s go home, Raph.”

Whumptober: It’ll Be Fun, They Said (4/5)

He thought they were safe.

He thought they would have been smarter, that they would have left it or gotten away.

But NO. They. Came. BACK.

And now they were all trapped, bound to this place where they'd probably die.

What was he supposed to do? He himself was chained to the wall, the heavy door triple locked to prevent any attempts at escapes.

Besides, they were all separated, and getting them all out would take too long. Raphael was in the room to his left. Donatello to his right, and Michelangelo behind him.

Getting to the room behind him would mean having to go completely around, running through a maze. Somebody would be shot before then, they couldn't get out without serious planning first.

He paced back and forth, listening to the chains on his ankles rattling as he thought.

"Leo?" Donatello whispered, barely loud enough to be heard through the wall, "Do you… Do you have a plan?"

Of course, of course- They were depending on him. They needed him to get them out before something happened. He needed to work faster. He always had a plan while on his toes, why couldn't he now?

"...I'll think of something," he replied instead of saying he didn't know.

"You always do."

How did he say he didn't know? He already tried everything, as soon as he got the chance. Now that they were all there, they would have a harder time. More places to be, more lives to account for, more hiding spots needed.

He continued to pace for a long while, still racking his brain for anything he hadn't thought of, anything that could work.

There were footsteps coming down the hall.

Nobody came down that way, towards where they were.

Leonardo froze, then stepped back, pushing himself against the wall, and waiting.

The door to his right opened, where Donatello was.

He felt sick, he wanted to scream, to make sure they wouldn't touch his brothers, but screaming would do nothing for anyone. Instead, he had to wait, listening to alarmed protests and a fading pair of footsteps, Raphael yelling not to touch him.

Once they were gone, Leonardo silently scolded himself for saying nothing, for not doing something to protect Donatello. He was supposed to take care of them, that was his job, as their older brother and leader.

He waited in silence, counting the minutes that ticked by until somebody came back down the hall after about half an hour. The door opened to his cell, spreading blinding light that made him blink and squint to see. While he was struggling to gain his bearings, somebody wrapped their hand around his wrist and pulled him up, unclipping the chain that held him to the wall. Leonardo said nothing, not after the act he pulled.

Still, Raphael yelled, sounding more panicked than before. He probably wondered who was next, and honestly, Leonardo didn’t blame him.

Leonardo got dragged into a room far, far away from the cells, and pushed down onto his knees. He cast an indignant glare at the masked guard, then took in the room. There was no light, leaving most of the room in darkness, but ahead of him was a one-way mirror, the room on the other side casting light in and-

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh GOD no.

Donatello was on the other side, already bruised and slightly battered. Leonardo tensed. He KNEW what was going on, he knew what form of torture this was, he didn’t- He- He couldn’t.

The beating started, and Donatello cried out sharply. Leonardo looked away and closed his eyes, unable to watch. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hear it though. Oh yes, he heard every whimper, every hiss, every scream. He could hear the short coughs from a heavy blow, the snap of a bone at some point.

The guard rapped their knuckle against his shell before grabbing him below the jaw, forcing his head up. Still, he squeezed his eyes tighter shut, and the beating only grew worse. Eventually, screams and quiet pleads turned into one long, never-ending wail that only rolled into low moans of pain.

He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t take having the other so close, yet unable to help, still hearing the second youngest’s begging growing desperate.

“Please,” Leonardo looked up, a whine in his voice that he couldn’t stop when he himself begged, “PLEASE, stop, stop- You’ve done enough, he can’t take much more, please stop, please-”

The torture continued. If anything, it only got worse. An itch began to burn and he shook, tears forming behind his eyes.

“I’ll do anything, anything you want, just please STOP, let them go. It’s me you want, Splinter is DEAD, take me and you won’t have to deal with them, please just stop!”

They paused, then held their hand up and, miraculously, the other person stopped, leaving Donatello breathing hard and shaking. He took a moment to take in his brother’s trembling figure, the harsh pants, bruises and cuts, bleeding injuries, burn marks, swollen skin and ripped up scales.

Then he was grabbed again, pulled up and away, out of the room. He looked back, but they had- How had they already taken Donatello away? Would he be alright? That was horrific- His stomach rolled, Leonardo closed his eyes and swallowed to avoid being sick all over the person ahead of him.

As they came to a halt, he was suddenly yanked forward, then shoved into a new cell, far from where he was before.

Hours passed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Not a good thing. Seconds ticked by, and he could only think of what would happen. He was the oldest, he had MICHELANGELO for a brother, he shouldn’t have said “anything”. “Anything” was bad, who knew what they would do with that.

Eventually, the guard came back. They pulled him along through a maze of hallways and corridors until they were somewhere new. A big, open room. To the right was a lever that he was sure couldn’t mean anything good. In front of him was a table, and on it, a revolver and chains beside it. Past that was a thick glass wall and-

His brothers.

They were all chained and on their knees, sitting equal distances apart from each other. Raphael and Michelangelo were fretting over Donatello, asking quiet questions that only received small head shakes or nods. Somebody looked up, then he was pointed out, and they stared, worried for him as well, even though nothing really bad had happened to him yet, nothing bad in comparison to what just happened to Donatello.

The guard grabbed the back of his head and turned it towards them, leaning in to growl a whisper. “You said anything, so here’s what’s going to happen. If you take the chains and bind your own wrists, you’ll give up your freedom. You’ll resign yourself to the Foot Clan and serve them until your last breath. For it, they’ll be let free to live their lives without much worry, as long as they don’t get caught again.

Should you choose the lever, the room will fill with water. You’ll have to watch as everybody in the room drowns, including yourself. You’ll have PLENTY of time to think about what you’ve done, but everybody will technically be ‘free’. You’ll all be free by death.

If you choose the gun, you have an option. You can either shoot one of them, free them and only them by death, or you can shoot yourself. No matter who you choose, everybody else will stay, forced to suffer. Take your pick. Oh, and, you have 60 seconds to pick.”

And with that, they released him and backed out of the room, locking the door as they left.

Well that was-

Certainly something.

Leonardo stepped forward and looked over his options. Picking up the gun, he found out that it only had one bullet. So he really only could shoot one person. It wasn’t a worthwhile decision. He couldn’t bear to leave them, nor look them all in the eyes and kill one of their own. The drowning was a definite no. It had the same result, but with all of them dying instead. Having to watch and explain would be too terrible. The clock was ticking, he had to choose.

Of course, he’d give up his freedom, his sanity in a heartbeat for them. He’d die captive, but they would be free. They’d have to live with his decision, though. They’d have to know he left them.

But it was the best choice, and the clock was ticking.

Leonardo reached his hand out, meeting eyes with his family who he would soon leave, and picked up the chains, twisting and wrapping them around his wrists before stepping back to finalize his decision.

At first, they didn’t know the significance of his choice, but it clicked rather suddenly. When it did, there was disbelief, grief, anger, but no words.

He would have preferred it if they had screamed at him for his choice, but the silence was just fine. It was what he deserved. As he pulled the chains tighter, both doors at each end of the room opened at the same time, and everyone was taken outside.

A cut was made in his shoulder, a chip pushed in afterwards, but Leonardo didn’t feel anything, staring down at his hands. Had he made the right choice? Would they be safe? He couldn’t be certain that these people wouldn’t go back on their word. A bracelet was clipped below the chains, and he was shoved ahead, going upstairs to the roof.

That was a helicopter.

They really were taking him, huh?

Leonardo went in willingly, slowly numbing as time went on.

If he made one more sacrifice, just for them to do something dumb, he swore he would come back from where ever they took him just to strangle them.