Whumptober: Oh, Breathe Without Me (Under Pressure)

Whumptober: Oh, Breathe Without Me (Under Pressure)

A/N: Oh look, a song verse as a title (Wozwald by Yuu Miyashita)

-----------------------------

Leonardo tested the door first, then signaled to his brothers that it was alright as he slid the door open just enough for him to creep in and duck into a hiding place. His family followed suit and disappeared into the shadows, hiding from prying eyes, invisible if you didn’t already know that they were there.

The building itself that they were “breaking into” was a large, multi-tier warehouse that Raphael reported seeing Purple Dragons at when he was with Casey. He said that they looked like they were taking only specific crates, and it was decided upon with unanimous vote that it was worth checking out, since the new leader of the street gang had been willing to step things up quite a bit.

“So, here’s the plan,” Leonardo whispered, “Raph and Donnie will take this level, look around for any gang members and see if they can learn anything or see what they’re taking. Me and Mikey will go to the top level and do the same thing, then we meet midway. Any objections?”

When he received only silence as a response, Leonardo took that as a sign that nobody was against it and began walking over to the staircase, Mikey following close behind.

The two went to the top floor, and worked their way through the whole level, finding a single member moving about, but nothing important or worthwhile, not what they were looking for. Still, they covered the whole floor, making sure that they checked every suspicious object, every nook and cranny, anything that looked fake and could be hiding something.

But they found nothing, so they went to the middle floor to get a headstart on looking there. Leonardo began to grow frustrated, though, feeling that familiar itch. Had they been too late? Had they missed the things that they actually needed to see? What if they missed something that had been really important, and everything was messed up just because of it? He bit back the low growl that threatened to leave him. Calm, he needed to be calm. They weren’t done here yet.

There were a pair of voices, and Leo was obligated to move closer to listen in, as he couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. It was a pair of gang members (finally, something they might be able to use!), leaned up against the wall and speaking in undertones.

“Are we almost done here?” The one to Leonardo’s left grunted. He had a long, winding snake tattoo that started on his snake and roped around his right arm, that Leonardo honestly thought was cool. However, he sounded like he had been chain smoking for years, which would explain the aged look on his face, even though Leonardo estimated that he could only be in his twenties or thirties.

“Almost,” The one to his right responded automatically. In contrast to the one on his left, this member looked a heck of a lot younger. There were no scars, no tattoos, he didn’t look nor sound any older than fifteen. Instead, he had long hair pulled into a tight bun and a few piercings, some of which were shaped like crosses. Huh, he was religious, maybe? “We’re just grabbing the last of things, and then they plan on blowing the place to the high heavens.”

Leonardo froze, exchanging a look with Michelangelo, who looked equally as appalled.

“Really? Won’t that grab us attention as terrorists?”

“Dunno, but the boss don’t care ‘bout that.”

“Huh.”

And then they just left, as if they hadn’t talked about blowing up a building in the middle of a highly populated city, risking probably quite a few civilians’ lives.

Michelangelo looked at him, and Leonardo nodded, understanding what he meant immediately. They needed to tell Donatello and Raphael, and get out as soon as possible, or try to step them from blowing up the building.

They bolted towards the stairs, just as the middle pair were coming up. All four of them ended up retreating back to the middle floor, ducking between crates as Leonardo and Michelangelo passed on what they had learned, earning almost yells and curses.

“We need to find the detonator before they set whatever bombs they have set up,” Leonardo said, stating the obvious. “The member with it is probably outside already, but I did see somebody lingering on the top level, and I think I’m gonna see, just in case. I don’t think they would blow up their own.

Leonardo didn’t want them in the building if it exploded. He was putting them in a potentially dangerous situation, he needed them outside, they couldn’t get hurt there. At least, not too terribly. Maybe from debris, but that would be more manageable then being in the building when it went down.

“Are you sure?” Raphael looked him over, eye ridges furrowed in concern. They were catching on.

“Mhm. I’m going to stay inside for just a minute, I’ll be out soon. Just try and check the people outside. At the very least, make sure that whatever they’re exporting stays here.”

Thankfully, they bought it, leaving him alone in the building. Now he just had to keep going with the act. And yes, he was afraid. No, he was terrified, he knew that he was probably going to die, but it was an occupational hazard, he guessed. They weren't always going to have some form of protection.

Leonardo turned and went upstairs, just in time to hear rapid beeping before a near deafening explosion. Then, everything went dark.

%%%

A splintering pain in his lower back and legs was the first thing, and Leonardo let out a low groan. What happened? Why did he feel like he was getting crushed? Had they fallen asleep in a Turtle Pile again?

Something shifted above him, and dust drifted down lazily. Oh right.

The only thing keeping him from having his skull crushed were some metal rods that creaked and bent under the weight of the concrete. A little movement revealed that his legs were most likely crushed from the boulders, and the only thing keeping his spinal cord from meeting the same fate was his shell, a natural armor he would be eternally grateful for. He struggled a bit, which only elicited protests and screams from his aching body.

Then he then heard people, humans, talking, close enough to feel them stepping over the concrete, but they sounded so far away…

He froze, then retreated into a cracked shell, holding his breath and waiting for them to pass.

“I could’ve sworn I heard somebody over here…”

A few minutes passed, then they moved on, leaving him alone to his misery. While the help would have been appreciated, he couldn’t risk letting humans see him, especially not in a state where he couldn’t move, much less defend himself.

Leonardo thrashed a bit, being careful not to let his shell hit things and make sounds that could draw attention to himself, but was quickly stopped by white hot fire in his arm, like a thousand needles pushed past his scales.

No, apparently that was not going to work.

Leonardo worked his mind for paths out of his situation, trying desperately to seek some way to get out of the hole he dug for himself, and eventually fell asleep. There was nothing he could do in the day, when he was at a higher risk for being seen by humans.

%%%

When he came to, he quickly realized that it was night. Unlike before, there was barely any light streaming through the cracks between the debris, leaving him nearly blind.

Taking hold of the situation, he started struggling. He had to get out, he couldn’t stay there, not when there were people depending on him to come back. By the second, his struggles grew more and more frantic, scrambling at the boulders pushing on his legs and shell to the best of his ability with his limited reach.

But the agony only grew in his fractured arm, pushing him to the point of tears, burning and tearing through his muscle. Him, Leonardo “Supernatural Pain Tolerance” Hamato, crying over a fracture. Shell, now the tears were flowing freely, racing down his face and staining the ground beneath him. Frustration and pain and anger, all mixed together and finally bursting free. How could he have been so stupid?

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly he was opening his eyes, head resting on his good arm. It wasn’t another day, as far as he knew, since the humans probably would have been working on removing the rubble. It was still dark, he still couldn’t see. The sounds of cars felt distant, although he wasn’t too far from the road, as far as he knew. Had the explosion done something to his hearing? Shoot, was he deaf? Or, at least, almost there? It wouldn’t be too terrible, he didn’t rely on his hearing that much, but. It was still a shocking development-

He couldn’t feel his legs. Frick, he couldn’t feel his legs. He needed to say alert, he needed- He couldn’t start losing then, trapped under cement and at risk all the time. Leonardo clawed at his arm, biting his tongue when it burned, spreading the same agony from before, but the pain was good- The pain was good, pain helped stay alert, he couldn’t lose himself then, couldn’t lose feeling.

Leonardo was loopy, he knew. He was in and out again, a faint blue light of the early morning streaming in. But he heard voices again, so close to him he wanted to cry. He knew the voices that time. His family hadn’t left him, why would they? They came back for him, even if they were risking coming early in the morning, when the humans were waking up. 

He took a shaky breath, then: “Marco.”

The response that came was from Michelangelo, sounding overjoyed in his response and like he had been crying too. “Polo!”

“Marco.”

“Polo- Donnie! Raph! He’s here, I think he’s here!”

The grating and scratching was faint, but the light grew, he could hear them, he could hear them looking, they were trying to dig him out!

“Shoot- Don! I found ‘im!”

Strong arms wrapped around him as the last of the rubble was moved off of him, and slowly pulled him up. Beside him, Raphael growled: “You’re so stupid, Fearless. What were you thinkin’ playing a dang martyr?”

Donatello came running over from where he was a few feet away, a short, strangled sob leaving him.

“Oh my God- Leo! Leo I’m so sorry, we should have come sooner, we should have realized, I- You-”

“Hey,” Leonardo hushed him, struggling a bit in Raphael’s grip although he couldn’t even stand on his own, “It was my fault. My plan.”

“No, you shut up- Raph carry him, we need to be home fast.”

Leonardo bit his tongue to hold back a protest as Raphael smirked and lifted him up bridal style. He noted that the younger was careful not to jostle him too much. He was still being careful.

Once home, Leonardo received a thorough lecture (who would’ve thought?) and a check-up, before being told he needed bed rest, and couldn’t leave. Donatello announced that both his legs were, in fact, broken from the weight on them. His shell was the only reason that he wasn’t paralyzed from the waist down, taking the brunt of the hit. However, from being so close to the explosion, Leonardo was, for the most part, hard of hearing, just as he thought.

For the rest of the night, they all insisted on being close enough to him to smother him, but he wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t like he could run from it, anyway.

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: Feed A Cold, Starve A Fever

It was getting colder. As the autumn months ended and faded into winter, the chill had gotten worse, and they had been needing to bundle up as much as they safely could and cut back on their time on the surface to avoid accidentally falling into hibernation.

Still, Leonardo sometimes went out solo. Not for long, of course, he wasn’t stupid, just for brisk morning runs or to cool off after an argument. He made sure to put something warm on, he had told Donatello when he found out, who was very concerned about his winter outings.

Now, usually these went well. And sometimes they ended in him throwing himself at a gang harassing some poor person who was just trying to get home from a tiring nine to five job.

Sometimes, that ended in him getting shot in the leg and tied to a fence.

The oldest of the group cackled as Leonardo struggled with the bindings, mocking his situation. Every weapon he had was pushed against the opposite wall, out of his reach, so that he couldn’t cut through the ropes even if he tried. Not just that, anything that was previously warm was thrown into the ground, half soaked in blood and frozen. He could already feel chill, sending shivers down his spine. Shoot.

“Not so tough now, are you?” One of them taunted, having the audacity to saunter closer and rest a gloved hand on his face.

Leonardo smirked, then bit them, hard.

With a sharp cry, they ripped their hand away, rubbing it and swearing under their breath before turning to glare at him.

"Shoulda muzzled the stupid thing too…" They muttered darkly, then tilted their head away from Leo. "C'mon, let's get out of here. If it's still alive when we get back, we'll make sure that it learns its lesson."

They were coming back? His beak wrinkled as they left. He didn't plan on sticking around long enough for them to do anything to him. A chain link fence rattled behind him as he pulled against the wrist ropes. He couldn’t stay there long. The air was chilling more and more as nighttime approached, the dull oranges and midnight blues fading away into black. Leonardo knew what he was risking by staying out too long, they all did. Stupid turtle DNA.

His breath misted in the air in front of him, leaving a small cloud for a moment before it dissipated. That wasn’t a good sign, that was-

There was the first snow of the season, of the month.

Shoot.

He was already getting sluggish, the ice falling off of him as soon as he struggled and kicked. He was getting weak, he wouldn’t be able to make it home, not at this rate, and it was already dark-

There was a thin sheet of snow over him, occasionally disturbed by harsh shivers or sudden, jerky movements. When did that happen? How long had he been there, that it was beginning to gather like that? People’s Christmas lights had already gone up, towards the beginning of December, and were now reflecting on glistening snow, vibrant reds and greens. He knew Michelangelo would like the way it looked. He would have to take him down here when this whole mess was over.

Right, stuck, tied to a fence. He couldn’t risk letting himself be still for too long, who knew how long it would be before he slipped into hibernation. Leonardo tugged again at the ropes before they froze, leaning forward to try and snap them with his body weight, but only succeeded in putting himself in an uncomfortable situation.

Oh, he was really stuck. But he needed to get back to the others, before they started worrying, if they hadn’t already. There was a bullet in his leg anyway, more vibrant red staining the snow, leaving him trembling harder as any left over heat left his body. Struggles began to cease, sleep tugging at his mind and trying to pull his eyelids shut.

A voice in the back of his mind called for him to rest, to close his eyes and not wake up until Spring. Leonardo really wished that his instinct would shut up for two minutes and let him be aware of his situation so that he could figure a way out.

But nooo, nothing could be easy for him, could it?

He was still slipping, he was still losing the ability to think and remember. Remember that he needed to stay awake and get home, that he had been shot and he might not be able to keep going if he closed his eyes, that he was risking not waking up. He hadn’t been abandoned there, he hadn’t.

He hadn’t been abandoned, so maybe he could close his eyes for just a bit…

%%%

“What the- Don, he’s over here!”

“Oh my- Leo! Shoot, what were you thinking? You idiot!”

“Is he okay?”

“No, Mikey. From the looks of it, he’s fallen asleep, which means he might be hibernating right now, pretty much. He’s also really hot, so he’s definitely sick from the cold, considering how long he had to have been out here for this much snow to gather. It’s like a blanket! Not to mention the bullet wound in his leg.”

“That little- What was he thinking?”

“I don’t know Raph, but we need to get him home now, before he freezes. Grab his things. Mikey, you’ll help me get him down, I need to keep a close eye on him anyway.”

%%%

That idiot.

What was he thinking, heading out that early for a morning run? What if he had been left out in the open and somebody had seen him? They knew the risks of getting seen by a human. They would be taken, most likely experimented on, and then dissected to see what made them go “tick”. Medical experimentation was not always done… Ethically.

Still, despite his worries, his brother was there, laying on that couch in a basking spot with a blanket, alive (although much less than well) and safe, for the most part. As safe as they could get. All they needed to do was get him out of hibernation, then see about his sickness afterwards.

The heat might have been too much. He was already feverish from staying out in the cold for God knows how long, and his temperature was rising by the minute. Raphael wasn’t comfortable with leaving him there for long, considering how warm his older brother was getting.

Then, by some kind of miracle, he woke up. Leonardo started slow, blinking sleepily and looking around, dazed. He struggled with the blanket for a second, but managed to remove it without Raphael’s help. Still, Raphael watched him for a long minute, making sure that he didn’t need help with anything. Was that weird, to just watch him? He didn’t think it was, they did that plenty.

“Don, he’s awake,” Raphael called and scooched just a tad closer even as Leonardo coughed into his elbow. To heck with sickness, he didn’t care.

Closer, now, he could tell that the older of the two was shivering, even though he felt as though he were burning to the touch.

Fantastic, he really was sick.

Donatello came running, immediately looking Leonardo over and grabbing his cheeks in his hands, despite the quiet protests. After a long moment, he moved Leonardo out of the heated spot on the couch, into somewhere much cooler, and set the blanket beside him. Offering it, but not forcing it on him.

Leonardo trembled and coughed again. “How’d you find me, anyway?”

“There’s a tracker in your phone, Leo. There’s a tracker in everybody’s phone.”

“Oh.”

They left it at that, Donatello curling up next to Leonardo, before finally asking:

“What were you thinking? I’ve told you time and time again, we shouldn’t go up as much when it’s cold out!”

Leonardo sneezed, and said nothing, head dipped in shame. Donatello wrinkled his beak, preparing to further his talk, but decided not to at the last minute.

Raphael bit his tongue to keep back a laugh. Leonardo, of all people, getting lectured? He never thought he would live to see the day, but there he was.

%%%

Later that night, Donatello discharged Leonardo to his own room. Told him to call him if he needed anything at all, and that he planned on checking on the bullet wound in the morning.

Leonardo, being Leonardo, agreed.

%%%

“This is your fault, Leo!”

No, he- He thought he left those fears, long ago. He thought that after the mushrooms, it would be over!

“You failed us!”

He- He didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t. Right? Right?

Still, Raphael stood above him, hollow eyes that would haunt anyone, a blade pushed between the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron. His bloody plastron, he noticed. They were definitely a gory sight, bleeding from almost everywhere, looking akin to zombies, and that was-

Not his blood.

Theirs.

Not his, theirs. Their blood, coating his scales, on his hands, everywhere, tinging the air copper. Something he never wanted to be around again.

And he wanted to cry. He wanted so badly to scream at them that he was trying his best, he couldn’t do everything, but he knew, he knew: They were right. It was his job to keep them safe, as their brother and leader.

So when Raphael pushed the sword into his torso, Leonardo did not cry or beg for mercy. He only screamed as the burning pain laced its way into his very being, tearing his atoms apart, hot coals in his body-

Leonardo had dreamed screaming, he woke up screaming, hand over his plastron, still feeling that agony, that splitting agony that coursed through him and-

The shoji slid open, his family raced in- He disappointed them, they were going to hurt him, they were going to kill him-

Leonardo rolled out of bed, dizzy as it made him, and grabbed his katana, screaming at them.

“Stay back!” he stumbled, fell back, and was distantly aware that he could have accidentally cut himself. That wasn’t important though, what was was staying alive.

“Hey, what the-” Raphael said- Leaning forward, a weapon in his hand, black eyes, disappointed, bloody. He was angry, Leonardo couldn’t stop seeing it-

“What’s wrong with him, Don?” Michelangelo said. He sounded afraid, afraid of Leonardo but Leonardo should have been afraid of them, as wrong as it felt.

“I- I think it’s a fever dream?” Donatello moved forward, reaching out to grab him.

No, they all moved forward, he was going to die, going to die in that tiny space and it was his fault, his fault, his fault-

He had a sword, to Mikey’s face, to the baby’s face, and still Michelangelo pleaded, voice soft from a bad attempt at soothing him. At his sides, Raphael and Donatello had circled around his sides to grab him, should the need arise, because he was about to hurt one of his own.

“Oh,” Leonardo whispered as he dropped the sword, the clatter of metal against concrete too loud in his ears, “Oh my God. I’m so sorry-”

They didn’t say anything at first. Good, he didn’t want or deserve the condolences, but then-

"You're alright now, Leo. It was just a dream, nothing more, you don’t have to apologize if you just put the sword down."

They still were worried for him, even after he tried to hurt them? What if he tried it again? What if the dreams came back? He would disappoint them, when they put so much faith in him-

Leonardo faintly remembers letting go of the other katana that he still had at his side. He’d grabbed both in his panic, just in case one got away from him. The world was spinning, now, and that’s not something the world was supposed to do.

“No, no, I was-” he paused to cough, a harsh, wracking cough that made his chest hurt and it felt like there was sandpaper in his lungs, “-I was going to hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

He cut off, not because of his own guilt. There was something amiss, the world was still spinning, and that wasn’t good, he should probably say something.

Raphael reached out.

Leonardo said something.

“Bucket-”

Thankfully, they realized rather quickly what he meant, and there was a bucket in front of him. Pretty much completely empty, he ended up dry heaving, coughing afterwards. It still hurt, in his chest, his plastron, his whole torso, actually. But at least now the room wasn’t tipping, even though they were all still looking at him like he was dying.

“Sorry…” He mumbled again, pushing it away and leaning back. The room felt suffocating with four people in it although there was barely anything to make it feel cluttered, so much open space that there shouldn’t have been any crowding at all.

“Mikey,” Donatello finally started, “Make him some tea. The peppermint stuff, we’re just gonna- Leave, for now-”

“NO!” The answer was sudden and Leonardo hated it, but he didn’t want to be alone, not just then. “No,” He corrected, “Please, don’t leave.” He thought he had escaped those fears a long time ago, but the truth was that they never left. They only faded over time, became less vivid so that when he woke up he never remembered them. Now, he was sick and most likely delirious. They were almost lucid. Almost.

Donatello shifted nervously. “Alright, the couch it is, I guess.”

Leonardo nodded and hopped onto his feet. Raphael grabbed his arm when he got unsteady, and the blue-banded turtle had to force himself not to pull away or start screaming. This was not one of his dreams. He was awake, they were all alive, he hadn’t disappointed anyone yet.

They moved slowly, allowing him to limp and favor his injured leg, so that shortly after getting to the couch, Michelangelo had popped out of the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea. It was promptly shoved into Leonardo’s hands as the youngest wormed between the two oldest, snuggling between them. Each started doing their own thing, not entirely what to do or say after that event, but that was fine by Leonardo, as long as he had them there with him and knowing that they were safe and alive.

Whumptober: One Down, Two To Go

Raphael hit the ground hard when Leonardo flipped him, but bounced back to his feet almost immediately, spinning his older brother around and trying to land a good hit.

The elder twisted out of his grasp, dancing around him with a wild grin. He hopped closer, grabbed Raphael and kneed him in the plastron, hard, right where the bony plates intersected. Raphael doubled over in pain with a gasp, leaving Leonardo to lunge forward, grab him by the shoulders, and shove him down.

He rolled him onto his plastron, pinned his arms behind his back, and waited. After a few seconds of waiting, Raphael sighed and went limp, but smiled nonetheless.

“I still can’t beat you? How many hours of training are you sneaking in?” he joked as Leonardo stood and helped him up.

“You’d be surprised,” Leonardo rumbled, stepping back. “Good to know you finally don’t beg for rematches.”

“I did not!”

“You did every time you lost, Raph.”

Raphael huffed, but smiled anyway, and started walking away. “Yeah yeah… I’m talking to the golden child here, what’d I expect?”

“Hey!”

Leonardo scoffed indignantly, still following him. The two flopped down on the couch with a sigh, and while Leonardo flipped on the TV, Raphael looked through a pile of comics that he hadn’t read in a while. Like, a really long while. Seriously, when was the last time that he had read these? He hummed softly as he flipped through smooth paper and softened edges, listening to some movie that his brother decided to put in. It took him a couple moments to realize that it was in Japanese and looked up to find that Leonardo was playing Spirited Away, an old favorite of the family. Well, that wasn’t too surprising.

His gaze trailed over to said brother, and fixated on the scars on his throat and plastron. Generally, they all agreed to avoid looking at or talking about them, but sometimes they slipped up, and once they did one of those things, they couldn’t stop thinking about what happened then.

None of them knew what happened really. Leonardo had a bad habit of brushing off trauma and downplaying injuries, both mental and physical, so he never answered them honestly about what happened, and they stopped asking.

The question burned in his mind and tasted bitter on his tongue. Raphael wanted so badly to know, to finally ask about what happened and strangle a straight answer out of his older brother. He had tried to hold it back, he really did, but in the end, it just popped out all on his own, as much as he tried to rein in his tongue.

“What actually happened, Leo?”

“What?” Leonardo looked to Raphael with a calm expression, seeming completely unbothered by this question.

“Those scars, when we had to run from the city?” Raphael pointed at the scars on his chest and throat, and Leonardo’s breathing hitched. “You still haven’t told us what happened.”

“Raph, that’s not something I’d like to talk about right now-”

“It’s been years of dodging that question!”

“It’s just a sensitive topic. I don’t push if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s a lie. We both know it is. Besides, don’t you think that we deserve to know? Y’know, after it put you in a coma?” Okay, maybe that was a low blow, bringing that up. But Leonardo was being ridiculous about this. He darted around that question like his life depended on it, always running from telling them the truth.

Leonardo kept his gaze for a long couple of seconds, face unreadable, before he sighed. “You really-?”

“Yes.” Raphael’s answer was without hesitation. He closed the comic he had, set it down, and leaned forward with his hands clasped together. “I want to know, Leonardo.”

“Oh wow,” The elder brother joked with a little smirk, “My full name, how frightening.” Then, he sighed and paused the movie, resting his chin in his hand. “Well, you see…”

Leonardo sliced through two more bots and squinted. This wave of enemies was down, but he could see another coming along. He’d have to move further, create some distance to get ready and keep them away from his family.

So he did. He turned and ran past the fences, through the open gaps he thought might lead somewhere. The bots caught up, though. They always did. It didn't matter how fast he ran, they were just faster.

To be fair, they weren't even alive. They were just robots, inexhaustible soldiers. Meanwhile, his strength was running out. As the battle dragged on longer, his exhaustion grew. When his initial energy ran out, he began to run on bursts of adrenaline, grabbing the ribbons of it like a lifeline.

If he fell or slowed down, he would die.

A chain wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back, slamming him against the wall and holding him there. A bot ran at him and his fear flared, right before he cut through them and pulled the person keeping him stationary right through the wooden fence.

Distantly, he was aware of the pain that flowered in his arm like a rose, static that engulfed his forearm, but that wasn't important. He needed to stay alive.

Snow fell leisurely as he moved along, and he shivered. At that rate, he was going to stop moving, and he needed to keep running, especially when-

20 arrows were pointed at them, and he let out a shaky breath. People behind him, hot on his trails, and archers aiming his way. Great, lovely, just wonderful.

Leonardo ducked and dodged around arrows, narrowly missing getting hit as he threw kunai at the heads of the archers. He whirled around for just a moment to bring his swords down in a deadly dance on the enemies behind him, then took out the last of the archers, breathing hard by the end of it.

They were done, right? He had finished with the bowmen and assassins? He could go home? God, he hoped so. He was so tired already, the snow and fighting were not a good combination for his energy levels.

A bot that he thought was dead, only held together by strings and wires, suddenly reached up and grabbed his ankle. They yanked it, hard, and he went tumbling, hitting multiple rocks and boulders before falling into icy water with a short gasp.

It pricked at his skin and he could already feel his limbs going numb as he sank. He couldn’t let go, yet. He had to just keep swimming up and up, and make sure that he finished what he had started. Leonardo kicked and struggled, swimming back to the dock and latching onto it as he broke the surface, gasping for air. The winter air was considerably warmer than the water that drained off him before he rolled onto the ground.

Maybe he could let himself have just a minute to breathe. Just one minute.

A minute of rest was not a privilege he got. Leonardo heaved himself back onto his feet when he felt eyes on him, hands already curled into fists and eyes narrowed.

Freaking Shredder was looking down at him, like he wasn't even worth a second of his time.

Leonardo swallowed back a snarl and raised his chin. "Face me, Shredder!"

Tigerclaw looked to Shredder for guidance, received a nod, and smirked. The three henchmen jumped down, and Leonardo was on the ground almost immediately. Pain shot through multiple places, made worse by the fact he was already sensitive from the cold.

A burn turned to a flaring inferno and he screamed, loud and wordless in anger. He lunged forward, throwing Razhaar into the water and slamming Fishface to the ground. Leonardo whirled to face Tigerclaw, landing a good hit on his torso and taking him down, then threw him after Fishface.

The adrenaline faded as he gasped. They were down, they were down, they were-

He froze, and stared at the shadow in the snow. Slowly turning, Leonardo came face to face with Shredder for an embarrassingly short period of time. Agony burst in his throat, and he realized he was falling for just a moment, before everything went dark.

Raphael’s beak scrunched with anger, his eyes ablaze, hands trembling with rage. “What?” he hissed, “Leo, that’s not even a fair fight!”

“Raph, don’t-”

“No, Leo, you don’t get it! Well, you probably do, but that’s just- That’s wrong in so many different ways!"

“So what? It happened a long time ago. Don't do anything you'll regret, it's not worth it." And there it was, that tone as he tried to calm Raphael down. It only furthered his wrath, that Leonardo was being so calm about all this. Why? How?

"...Fine." Raphael growled, trying to swallow his indignance. Like agreeing was going to stop him.

%%%

Raphael reached down to the facepaint, then smeared it around his eyes, a backup just in case the mask didn't do well enough. He closed the container back up, retreating to the dojo to gather his weapons.

Shredder had been cruel to his brother. Raphael thought it only fair to make him feel the same pain.

He closed the closet, backed away, and ran into the sewers. Shredder would feel pain, Raphael would make sure of that.

A thump came from behind him, before somebody ran beside Raphael and cut in front of him. Leonardo stood before him, arms crossed and staring right through him. Raphael's anger boiled up when his older brother spoke, and he forced himself to swallow it before he said something stupid. He did enough of that daily.

"I said not to do something you would regret."

"And? That was an unfair fight, something should be done!"

"It won't change anything."

"Leo! This is-!"

"Raph, speaking as the injured party; No."

"But-"

"Listen, this will only hurt you and the people around you. Don't. I'm still holding you to your word. Didn't you say just a couple hours ago that you wouldn't go after Shredder?"

Raphael deflated, shriveling back under Leonardo's icy gaze. "I just wanted…"

"Go home, Raph. Take a cold shower, drink something, and head to sleep. What do you think we'd do if you died?"

Raphael stilled. If he went against Shredder alone, he would die. He would leave them to grieve. "Oh," he breathed.

Leonardo reached forward and grabbed his arm. "You stink, Raph. Wash that stuff off you, we need to go home."

The hothead nodded, wordless. That time, he meant it.

Whumptober: Touch And Go (2/5)

A/N: I’m going to preface this with the fact that I’m probably representing touch starvation very wrong

_______________________________________________________________

Leonardo let his hand slide down from the wall, backing up slowly. “Just get out and don’t wait up, alright?”

They better leave, if they didn’t he’d-

He didn’t know what he’d do, because the soldiers were coming and he needed to go. He hoped they left already. They didn’t say anything, so either they were thinking, or they were gone, and it better had been the latter.

Taking a deep breath to soothe his fraying nerves, he turned to fight, charging the next round of guards before suddenly ducking to the left and using somebody as a stepping stone to get higher up. Leo grabbed the support beams, heaved himself up and kept running, hopping along because he knew that if he fell, that would be the end.

He really did know another way out, but it would take some effort to get there, and he had to get the guards off his tail first so that they wouldn’t follow him back to the lair.

For a minute, he paused, bringing his katanas down in deadly slashes to take some of the enemies down and ward off a few more, before turning back and running again, preferring to preserve his energy for the time.

At the end of the hall, he could see his way out, and they were still following him. He needed them off his tail, fast. Turning to face them again, Leo bounced backward to brace for a hit. If he let them follow him, he'd lead them straight to their home, straight to his brothers and then it would be all for naught.

He was getting tired, he realized. Getting tired wasn't good, not now. His breaths came in short, ragged puffs, and he was taking more and more hits by the second. Soon, he would only be running on slivers of adrenaline. Once those ran out?

Leo bit the side of his tongue at the thought of the grim outcome.

He had to turn to run again, before something happened. There were significantly more injuries than before, and that was definitely his sign he needed an out.

There, there was his exit. But there were still several guards following close behind. A sharp right should throw them off, draw them away, he could get back to it later.

And, he should have bought his family enough time, right? They had to have gotten away.

Something cut through the air, a loud sound like the phaser guns on Space Heroes followed by a whizz that ended by his ear, and there was a BURN in his shoulder. Beside him, the injury almost sizzled and smoked, and blood immediately slicked his entire shoulder and upper arm.

Against all logic, it startled him into stillness, gripping his shoulder tightly to try and stop the blood flow. He hadn't ever seen injuries like that before, so it was startling to say the least (besides that one time. They didn't talk about that one time).

Suddenly, somebody crashed into him, and he went down hard.

Then, his hands were behind his back, there were multiple people holding him, and he kicked and tried to roll.

But there were multiple guards and one of him. His wrists were tied despite his struggles, and he was stripped of his weapons right before he was roughly pulled up.

If they weren't sworn enemies, he would have almost been offended that he wasn't even given the chance to try to walk. Instead, they dragged him halfway across the building, taken lower and lower, past the core, even further down. He didn’t even know that there were lower levels, but they just kept going down until they were so far from the surface he feared he could have been smothered.

Which, was a legitimate worry at that point.

Instead of smothering him, they brought him further back once they seemed to have hit the lowest level, to the very back corner of the maze of hallways, and locked him into a room. They just. Left him.

It was well lit, but completely empty, and once the door was shut he wouldn’t have been able to tell that it was ever there at all.

His hands were bound, and he had virtually nothing at the moment, but he still began to plan.

%%%

Step, step, step, step, step, turn.

Step, step, step, step, step, turn.

Repeat again, over and over.

While it could have been worse, they had actually forgotten about him in that back corner. It was honestly funny to him. Just going to leave him in a corner, huh? He assumed that they were waiting for him to die, either by his own body or from time, whichever happened to hit him first.

Leo would have thought it was a little funny, if the hunger weren’t tearing him apart from the inside out. It felt like a stupid worry to him. There were so many worse things to think about, but he still managed to be worried about food of all things?

How about, instead, he worried about how long he had been there? There wasn’t really a way to tell time, there was just a haze between waking and sleeping.

He was vaguely confused about the whole situation, though. They had him captured, wouldn’t they have wanted something from him?

Or was he just bait, they usually wanted all of them at once, they couldn’t take them out one at a time, for some reason.

Leo continued to pace, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until the door slid open, and a guard walked in. He waited calmly, patiently, for them to have completely entered the room, before jumping them. Yes, he was aware that his hands were bound, but he knew that those were metal binds. He could use them as a weapon with enough agility.

The guard grabbed him and shoved him down, using the binds to shake him before grabbing his upper arm.

Leo froze, startled by the sudden touch, the lightning flowing along from the grip followed by a deep want for the touch. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Afraid? Disappointed? Angry? Against his will, he let out a short mix between a cry and a whine. He didn’t like it, the touch was bad, the sound he made because of it was worse, but he wanted the touch, he hadn’t seen anyone or anything outside the room, but the touch wasn’t even human, nor anything positive-

He was spiraling again, he had been doing that too much recently, because the guard was using that to their advantage to drag him up and out.

Just because he wasn’t fully functioning did not mean that he still wasn’t against getting moved around to some second location. He kicked and struggled, pulling away in some kind of desperation and actually managing to get some good hits in on the way.

But there were guards, they grabbed his shoulders, pushing at the injury to keep him still. Slowly but surely, they forced him along, up and outside. He squinted in the bright light- They were risking moving him in the day? What in the world were they-

A short grunt escaped him as he landed in a truck. Before he could try to get back out, or say something, or really do anything, the doors had closed, cutting the light off, and the engine was turning on. Fantastic, he really was getting moved to a second location.

Whumptober: Just A Scratch

Leonardo swept one of his katanas down in a graceful arc, tearing open skin like paper and watching the blood spray. His enemy howled in pain, stumbled back, and gripped their injury to try and stem the bleeding, casting a glare at him. They were some werewolf looking group of mutants, nothing too bad as long as none of them-

Apparently, while he was dealing with one, the other two had circled around to his sides, and one had decided to sink its teeth deep into her arm. He grit his teeth, dug his heels into the ground, and slashed at its face as an effective method to dislodge it.

"Get!" He yelled and made a wide gesture with his arms.

The rogue mutants yelped and scrambled to get away, bouncing over each other in their efforts to run back into their hiding places.

Leonardo huffed. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to see or hear about them for a long time.

He turned his attention to the bite wound on his arm and examined it carefully. It wasn't too deep, more like a surface wound then anything. A thin stream of blood trickled down his forearm. He raised an eye ridge, unimpressed by the injuries his enemies had given to him. Reaching down to the little medical pouch he had, Leonardo pulled out some antiseptic and dressed the bite mark before wrapping it tightly. It would heal quickly.

%%%

When he got home, Leonardo spent some time with his family. A promised spar with Raphael, a conference with Donatello to help him with a project he had been struggling with, some gaming with Michelangelo.

As the late hours came along, though, there was a faint feeling of misplacement that didn't belong. He said goodnight and went to bed early, hoping that would do something for his health.

%%%

Michelangelo didn't usually wake up early, but sometimes, that sixth sense specifically meant for finding danger started going off in the middle of the night. That was usually worth listening to.

So that was how he found himself waking up in the dead of night to Leonardo standing over his bedside, holding a tanto blade high above his head, and visibly trembling.

"Don't do it," Michelangelo whispered to Leonardo's shadow, "Please, don't do it. This isn't funny, Leo." Of course it wasn't funny. Leonardo didn't make jokes often, but when he did, they were nothing like this.

Suddenly, Leonardo fell backwards and dropped the blade, thankfully not on Michelangelo. He scooched backwards, and in the darkness, Michelangelo could vaguely see him curling up.

The youngest sat up, squinting. "Are- Are you okay? Leo, are you-"

"I don't know what's going on." His voice was soft, so impossibly soft that he had to strain to hear it.

"Yeah, I can- I can tell."

"Don't tell them, please. I think I can handle this, just- Don't tell them."

Michelangelo hesitated. On one hand, Leonardo was going to kill him, whether he realized it or not. He had been hovering over his bedside with a knife, ready to release him to death.

On the other hand, it almost reminded him of when they were just little children, whispering in the dark not to tell Splinter about something they had done wrong. In the end-

"Just lock my door on the way out, don’t pick the lock, and we'll be good until I wake up."

"Okay. I- Okay."

%%%

Leonardo didn't stay. He left the lair entirely. He didn't want to risk hurting Michelangelo again, or any of his brothers.

%%%

"He still hasn't moved?"

"Nope," Raphael popped the p, looking Leonardo over.

Two hours, and he still hadn't moved from the seiza position. Unless he was under some extreme stress, Leonardo didn't meditate for over half an hour in the morning. Michelangelo still wasn't awake, so he wasn't of any help either.

“You should poke him.”

“Why me?”

“Because if he gets upset or startled, you have a lesser chance of getting taken down.”

“...Fine.”

Raphael crept towards Leonardo, wary of startling the older turtle, and gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“Leo, bro? You good?”

Leonardo remained unmoving for a long minute, not responding to Raphael’s prodding. Raphael raised a single eye ridge, getting concerned. Had he fallen asleep? That was very unlike the oldest, who was usually so studious and alert. He moved to give Leonardo a rougher push, maybe that would get him out of it.

“Hey, Leo-”

His eyes slid open, and Raphael let go. There he was, finally awake-

Suddenly, Leonardo lunged forward, drawing his katanas and slamming into Raphael full force. Raphael brought his arms up just in time to block the hit, but still skidded backwards, eyes wide from shock. Did- Did he just-?

There was no time to think, Leonardo was already moving to make his next attack. Raphael drew his sai.

“Dude, what is this?! Snap out of it!”

Donatello ran into the unexpected fight to help Raphael, trying not to hurt Leonardo while still keeping him back. Still, Leonardo was definitely a lot stronger than expected, and Raphael got the feeling that the “prodigal son” hadn’t really been using everything he learned until just now. Shoot. Leonardo knocked Donatello down, sending him across the room, and turned to Raphael with a predator’s gaze. Shoot.

He rolled out of the way as Leonardo came running at him, only for it to be a fake move and get shoved to the ground, efficiently pinned by the older (and apparently strong) of the two. Donatello, having recovered from his stunned state, came running back and gave Leonardo a hard shove, throwing him off if only for a second.

Then Michelangelo joined, slightly disheveled and looking like he had just woken up, but at least he was there.

Blood sprayed and for a moment, everybody (including Leonardo, Raphael noted) froze. Then the battle continued.

Raphael regretted not asking Leonardo before about if he was holding back on them, because now? Now it was definitely clear, and he really wished that he had known about it sooner. Leonardo easily overpowered them, beating them down and aiming for a killing blow whenever he got the chance.

“Leo!” Michelangelo called out, “Bro, it’s us! Calm down-!” He swung the nunchuks, trying to wrap the chains around his oldest brother and restrain him for the time being. Instead, he accidentally hooked one of the blades in Leonardo’s skin.

Leonardo froze. Of course it wasn’t from pain, he was Leonardo “Supernatural Pain Tolerance” Hamato. Raphael hoped it was him coming back to them, but he still had to be wary, just in case this was some kind of trick to make them let their guard down.

Donatello and Michelangelo took the chance, unlike Raphael, and lunged forward, grabbing Leonardo and pinning him down while Michelangelo worked on wrapping the chains around him. Leonardo kicked and thrashed, honest to God hissing at them, and Raphael came to aid them in restraining him.

They pulled him back to a sturdy column, and tied him there, as uncomfortable as if made them. If it needed to be done, then, well...

"Is anybody hurt?" Donatello said at last, "Is anybody bit, or something like that? If this is anything like the time with those wasps, then it'll be good to know now rather than later."

Everyone took a moment to look themselves over. The only injuries seemed to be caused by something artificial, and Raphael swore that he would have noticed if he was bitten.

Donatello nodded, relieved, and crept down to Leonardo's side, moving away fresh bandages to look at the injuries underneath.

"Yeah, look here. Bite mark. Something infected him-"

Leonardo suddenly lunged forward, snapping at Donatello and making sounds that sounded almost inhuman. Raphael darted over to grab the chains because the last thing they needed was Leonardo getting loose.

Donatello froze, his breathing hitching for a second before he leaned back, grabbed a syringe, and leaned closer again.

"Keep holding him, I need a blood sample to try and figure out an antidote."

The oldest behaved actually rather well, going very still and not moving again until Donatello had pulled away. Maybe he was coming back? Even if if was just for a second, he stopped.

%%%

"He's gone!"

"Mikey, who?"

"Leo!"

“What?! Did you get bit? Are there any scratches or anything?”

“No, but Leo’s loose! Raph went after him, but he got a little messed up on the way."

"Then we need to go! The antidote will be ready by the time we're back."

Michelangelo led the way, taking Donatello to where he had left Raphael and Leonardo, who were now battling it out. Well, more accurately, Leonardo was attacking a thoroughly injured Raphael who had to fall back on defense to stay alive.

Then, Leonardo noticed Michelangelo and Donatello. In one smooth, graceful movement, he had Michelangelo in his grip, holding a blade to his throat and backing up. A hostage. They didn't usually take hostages.

Donatello paused and didn't risk moving. Then, he started moving backwards. I'll be back, he mouthed, slowly moving home.

Once Donatello was gone, Michelangelo whined softly, “Raphie-”

Leonardo pushed the blade ever closer to Michelangelo’s throat. He wasn’t playing, that was clear enough. Raphael shivered in terror. He never thought that Leonardo wouldn’t threaten them, even under the influence of something that took him out of his right mind-

No, he wasn’t out of his mind. He was being controlled, moving against his will. It was obvious in the hesitation, the attempts to not attack them, all the times he had suddenly lapsed out of his aggressive behavior. It was all right there. He was right there, but Raphael just didn’t see it. Beneath the controlled state was still Leonardo, as protective as ever, fighting to keep them safe and losing.

At that moment, Leonardo needed Raphael to step up, not to return the hostile behavior. “Leo,” he murmured. “Leo, it’s us. Don’t- Don’t hurt him. You’ll be alright, just put the sword down.”

Raphael swallowed and hoped that his words were doing something. He didn’t think he could take losing one of his brothers.

Leonardo hesitated, actually hesitated, and lowered the blade just a bit, his gaze wavering as he regarded Raphael coldly. C’mon, Raphael silently screamed, Come back to us, idiot.

Then, Donatello reappeared, now behind Leonardo and jabbed a needle into his shoulder. Leonardo shuddered and twisted before collapse, releasing both the sword and Michelangelo in the process.

Donatello grabbed him and slowly lowered him to the ground. "I think it worked?" He called as Michelangelo joined Raphael at his side. “Give it a minute, I think we have him back.”

A few seconds passed before Leonardo gasped softly and blinked a few times. He looked around, grabbed Donatello’s hand, and almost immediately shrunk back.

“Oh.”

He swore under his breath.

“I’m sorry. Oh my God I’m so sorry-”

Leonardo scrambled up to his feet and tore away, backing away from them.

“Leo, you weren’t aware of it.” Raphael soothed, even though Michelangelo was still hiding. “It was like the wasps all over again, alright? It wasn’t you doing it.”

"However,” Donatello interjected, “you will be telling us the whole story while I run some tests."

%%%

“Well,” Raphael said, wrinkling his beak and swishing around the contents in his mug, “That was actually lamer than I expected.”

“Yeah,” Leonardo laughed softly.

“Leo,” Donatello scolded and kicked Leonardo in the shin, “Tell someone next time, alright? This was like that stupid wasp all over again, somebody could have died.”

Leonardo flinched. He knew that all too well. He had seen that he was holding Michelangelo hostage, that he had tried to kill his family, but hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it. He was helpless, trapped in his own body and unable to fight back.

“Alright. Sorry, about all of this.”