Whumptober: Field Care 101

Whumptober: Field Care 101

The first time they had gone up to the surface, they had no clue what they were walking into. It had gone completely unnoticed that they had been stepping into a war, until they were almost killed by Shredder.

After that, all of them had thrown themselves into their training, learning both how to fight more efficiently while together or apart, and basic first-aid. Donatello still knew the most about medical things, but they, at the very least, knew how to handle themselves if they had injuries.

Donatello knew the most.

Which meant all of them were clueless when he got knocked down.

He went down hard, knocked over the side of a building, a few sickening thumps and cracks following as he hit a couple obstacles.

Leonardo's stomach dropped. He called to Raphael and Michelangelo to cover him and dropped down after the genius, where was he, where was he-

By some miracle, he was alive, laying on the concrete, oh God that was blood- Crimson, pooling around him staining bandages, his mask, everything. His staff was laying across the alleyway, broken. Leonardo dropped down beside him and lifted him up. Shoot, he was already unconscious? He didn't have much time.

Leonardo traced his hands down busted scales and torn skin, looking for the major source of the blood. It had to be somewhere that would bleed a lot, some kind of artery or, or-

Frick.

Frick.

Heads did bleed a lot, didn't they?

At least it wasn't deep, right? It couldn't be deep, it probably just broke the skin, so it was bleeding.

No such luck. Leonardo didn't know much about how skulls should look, but it was not like that. He needed Donatello, but that was who he was caring for, and he couldn't get answers.

Leonardo wrestled a cloth and some water out of the medicine bag they all had, wetting the cloth, dabbing away blood, and cleaning the wound as best as he could. He followed up with bandages, desperate to stem the bleeding, but trying to remain calm and composed. If he had learned anything from war, it was that panicking helped no one.

As the battle above ended, Michelangelo and Raphael climbed down almost frantically, seeing what was the problem.

"Is he alri-" Michelangelo began, then quickly cut off, noticing the pooling blood, thick and warm and sticky.

"He has a really bad head injury, and we need to move him. Now," Leonardo explained curtly.

He slipped one arm under Donatello's legs, his other under his shell, and carefully lifted him up. There was a low moan that Leonardo tried to ignore as he turned to his other two still standing brothers and tipped his head towards the manhole.

Michelangelo darted forward and opened it, and Raphael hopped down to help carry Donatello down. The thing they needed the least was to accidentally drop him and crack his skull open entirely.

The walk was painfully silent, everybody looking at Donatello every now and again to make sure he was still breathing.

As soon as they were home, they rushed Donatello into the lab. There had to be something that could help them, the resident doctor always kept something useful handy. Donatello was passed off to Raphael to settle somewhere while Leonardo dug through boxes and bins, over desks. It had to be somewhere around, it had to be. He couldn't keep wasting time when the bandages he used earlier were already turning red, when Donatello was getting paler and paler by the minute.

There it was, the heavy kit, reserved for emergencies. Now, he didn't know much, but he was fairly certain that a heavily bleeding head injury counted as an emergency. Leonardo ripped it open, taking what he needed and hurried back to where they had set Donatello up. Praying to whatever deity would listen, he crouched down and tried not to fumble with the needle and thread as he stitched up the wound. The blood flow would stop, and then Donatello would wake up later, right?

...He hoped so, but he tried not to keep his hopes up.

The bandaging process was familiar, the bottom layer soaked to keep the injury clean, and after that? They would have to wait and see.

"I'll keep the first watch," Leonardo murmured, pulling up a chair to sit. It would be a long, long night. "I just wish we had something better for him."

%%%

They swapped back and forth all night, and the next day, and the rest of the week, just taking care of Donatello.

Eventually, Leonardo had to say that he had most likely fallen into comatose, and wouldn't wake up for a long time, if ever. They were simply not qualified to take care of him, and he might never be okay.

Of course it was met with sobs, protests, questions that he could not answer.

When left with silence, though, Leonardo himself expressed frustration, silent tears falling down even when they didn't belong.

Whumptober: That’s Gonna Leave A Mark

Leonardo didn’t mean to get hurt.

Well- Backtrack, he never meant to get hurt any of the times it happened, just this time especially, he didn’t mean it.

Because now, he was alone and bleeding in a pitch black part of the sewers that he knew nothing about with a cut up leg and side, so close his plastron he thought it would peel away, and the water level was still rising. At some point, towards the beginning of the whole mess, he had gotten separated from Raphael too, and he had no idea where he was either. Welcome to Leonardo’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

With a low sigh, he took off his mask, although it was dirty with the sewer waters that was filled with who knows what, and tried to use it to bandage his leg. His hand bandages were already bloody, and he definitely didn’t want to use the ones on his feet to try and get better compression.

He hoped Raphael was alright. He wasn’t sure what had happened after they got separated, and his mind ran wild with thoughts and ideas of what could have happened.

Shaking his head, he went to stand up, and immediately crumpled back down, gripping his leg and feeling warm, sticky blood flow past his fingers.

Shoot.

Leonardo grit his teeth and leaned against the wall, using it for a support as he got back up. He was not going to stay down when he had no idea where he was, nor where he could even go if he had any clue about what section of the sewers he was in.

Jeez, how far had the waters carried him?

It was still raining, too. He could hear it pattering on the concrete above him, driving people into their homes or other shelters to get out of the downpour. At least the water wasn’t rising anymore, by some miracle.

Turtle luck was a strange thing.

Leonardo eyed the black waters below them warily, noting how much they had risen from their normal position. He elbowed Raphael and received a strange look in response, the hothead questioning his brother's sudden alarm.

“Hey, watch out for the water, okay? I don’t want to be out here much longer with it rising like this.”

“Yeah yeah Leo, I get it. I see ‘em too.”

Leonardo wrinkled his beak at the younger’s dismissal of the possible flood, but left it at that, letting him go and continuing to walk.

And the water continued to rise, spilling over the edge, going onto the paths on the side. The two moved farther away from it, but it kept going, rising until it was up to their ankles. By the time they had agreed to try and find some high ground or go back home, it was all the way up to their knees, forcing them to wade through the disgusting water. Past the rushing water and the downpour above them, Leonardo could have sworn he thought he heard something. As he slowed to a halt, he turned to look behind them.

Somebody down here? In this weather? He wondered, searching the darkness.

“Leo?” Raphael rumbled, stopping as well to see what was up, “Didn’t you just say that we needed to get somewhere safe? The water’s-”

Something whistled as though cutting through the air, and embedded itself into the edge of Leonardo’s shell before he had the chance to move.

That was a throwing star.

They were being attacked.

Leonardo stumbled back in now thigh high water. It was rising higher, fighting like this would be clunky and hard to do, risking more severe injuries.

The Foot crept out of the darkness like spiders, red eyes glowing as if they were in some kind of horror movie. Leonardo drew his katanas, eyeing them and waiting for them to come to him and Raphael. He knew Raphael was grinning behind him, looking forward to a fight.

One of them lunged forward, and Leo stepped back, slicing through them like they were butter. That was one down and…

He had no clue how many left.

Another pounced out of the darkness, then another, and one after the other, they charged into battle. Steel met steel, lighting sparks that lit small sections of the sewer for only a moment.

Then a knife went into Leonardo’s side and a gasp of pain escaped him as agony shot through his torso. The blade went down, tearing through skin, making him choke down a scream. The water wasn’t rising anymore, but he could hear a distant rush, it was flooding, they needed to get somewhere high and dry-

The current slammed into his legs and both he and the enemy tumbled, with the weapon carving through his leg as well. A short scream escaped him, it didn’t take long to realize he was moving away from the battle- Scratch that, everybody got taken by the current, moved different directions to many parts of the sewers-

Leonardo slipped and fell, letting out a short yelp of surprise before he hit the ground with a low groan. Fantastic, in disgusting water, injured, and not even able to use anything else to try and bandage the wounds he had. A low growl escaped him as he got back up and pulled his Shell Cell out of his belt. He wondered if it would work still, after being doused with water, and was pleased to find that it did, just barely.

...Nevermind, he did not have data where he was.

There went the relief.

%%%

Leonardo spent hours wandering, maybe more, maybe less, just walking through an unfamiliar patch of sewer with no idea where he was going. Sometimes he knew he was getting higher or lower by the water level, and sometimes he had no clue what direction he was going, nor if he was getting any closer to a place where he could finally leave, or a place that he knew something about.

What he did know, though, was that he had been followed. At some point, he got attacked again, almost ripped apart by the people who were trying to kill him. He had to run, as shameful as it was. He was already bleeding, and somebody stabbed him in his already open wound, trying to limit his movements so that he couldn’t get away.

Later, he felt feverish and sick. He kept coughing, he was tired, at some point he started convulsing, agitating injuries and causing bleeding to start up again.

Shoot. Had that been poisoned?

It wasn’t like he could rip it out, anyway. He wouldn’t get more poisoned because of it, and having the knife there helped keep him from bleeding further.

Leonardo decided to leave it, continuing to limp forward.

%%%

By the time he had finally found his way up to the surface, he felt like he was dying, sickened and still shaking every now and again.

But he did have a chance to contact his family.

Finally.

He swallowed, checking his phone for any data.

Oh yes, he had data, finally.

He also had one hundred and twenty-six unread texts, thirty-seven missed calls, twenty-nine new voicemails, and multiple people’s locations shared to him around fourteen times.

Leonardo let out a short breath and sat down, huddled between a dumpster and the wall of a building, scrolling through the messages.

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): Leo?

ketchuprelishicecream (Mikey): BRO WHERE R U

Raph.JustRaph (Raph): were getting worried

Raph.JustRaph (Raph): we’re*

Raph.JustRaph (Raph): get your shell back here

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): Raph says he lost you, Leo

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): Are you hurt???

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): Where are you?

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): Dude, you better start answering soon

ketchuprelishicecream (Mikey): u better find us soon

ketchuprelishicecream (Mikey): i’ll cry if u don’t

Coffee_In_Sight (Donnie): The lair flooded, we had to leave

Raph.JustRaph (Raph): i shared my location for Don

Raph.JustRaph (Raph): so get over here

More and more, along those lines, asking where he was, if he was okay, that he better start responding. He put his phone on a low volume, listening to the voicemails that had almost the same content, besides Raphael’s being more… Colorful, to say the least.

Shell, he had worried them.

They thought something really bad had happened to him, that maybe he had drowned or been killed by an enemy while exploring, trying to find a way back up!

A harsh, rattling cough escaped him, leaving him shaking and gasping. The poison was getting to him, and he needed to find a way to fight it, fast. He hesitated while looking through to see which one of his brothers would respond the fastest if he called them. Raphael held the title of being the second fastest, Leonardo being the first.

He pressed the call button, and waited.

Exactly two rings went by, and Raphael responded.

"LEO! Where the shell have you been?! You've been gone since yesterday morning!"

Leonardo blinked and swallowed. Yesterday? He thought it had only been a few hours, not a full day.

A convulsion shook Leonardo, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. They were getting more frequent, he noted. Should he be worried about that?

“Leo?” Raphael’s voice was softer that time.

“Hey, um-” Leonardo breathed, tapping his knee with his free hand, “So you know how we got in that fight before we were separated? Um, I may or may not have been poisoned, sometime after that.. I think.” Raphael’s breathing hitched, and Leonardo rushed to fix his statement. “Not- Not that it’s bad, or anything! I made it this long, so it can’t be that bad-”

“Can ya count to ten?”

He sounded skeptical, probably from Leonardo’s bad track record of downplaying his injuries, or anything else that happened to be wrong with him.

“What?”

“Count to ten fer me, if it ain’t that bad.”

Again, what? Of course he could count to ten, it wasn’t hard-

...It was hard.

Leonardo got lost at four, needing to pause and repeat himself before then trying to keep going.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. Hold on for just a second, mkay? I’ll be right back.”

There was silence for a few minutes, then Raphael returned.

“Alright, do you think you can walk to where we are since you have our location?”

“I think so, I mean, I walked a map in the sewers so…”

“Okay, we’ll be waiting, alright Leo? Don’t do something stupid, and get here as fast as you can.”

And just like that, he had hung up. Leonardo took a shaky breath, pocketed his phone, and stood back up, practically crawling through alleyways and over rooftops as he followed the path to their location.

It was a long abandoned office building, high enough to be safe from water if the streets happened to flood. He gripped his leg when sudden burning pain burst out and dropped to his knees, mouth open in silent, unheard screams. Moments after, he convulsed again, crimson blood pouring past his fingers and down his side, the rain washing it off of him and filling the air with the scent of copper, copper and rot. It wasn’t just blood, he finally realized. There was infection, and infection meant pus. When the convulsions ended, he gasped for air and shakily stood back up. They were right there, they were so close, just a few more steps…

Leonardo stumbled forward, creeping in through a hole in the concrete, and was almost immediately met with screaming.

Raphael gripped his arms, shaking him lightly.

“You frickin’ idiot, fearless! What were you-”

He trailed off, eyes fixating on the injury with festering infection, a knife in his leg that he never removed so that he wouldn’t bleed more than before. Then there was a crash, and Donatello came running after Raphael to try and see the brother who they thought was missing. He paused, shooing Michelangelo so that he wouldn’t have to see the rather gory injury.

He ended up prying Raphael off while he was frozen to the spot, and dragged Leonardo along, forcing him to sit down in the spot he deemed the cleanest to look him over.

“Well…” Donatello began. Him trailing off was not a good beginning. “I can probably fix up your side easily but, your leg is… Your leg is certainly something. You should be glad the infection didn’t get in your side, too. I’ll- I’ll have to see what I can do, but this looks bad. Just rest now, alright?”

Leonardo didn’t respond, looking it over. In the darkness of those flooded sewers, he hadn’t realized just how bad it had really gotten. He knew now, though. In some places the tissue had begun to grow black, most likely dead and rotting. The skin around the injury had paled from blood loss, and it was a wonder he had survived, he thought. His whole right side was cut up, blood and pus having doused his side. He was freaking filthy, too. He didn’t want to think about what he had been trudging through in the time he was down there.

“-alright?”

“Hm?”

“Oh, sorry- Um, so, from what I’m seeing, you have a really nasty infection in your leg, and some poison that probably was probably just meant to make you really, really sick. I don’t think I can save the tissue around the injury… Most of it has rotten from the infection, and if we don’t want it spreading, I’ll have to cauterize it to try and burn the poison out, and get rid of all the dead tissue in there.

And- We don’t have any anesthesia available, but from what I’m seeing, we don’t have the time to wait to get it. I’m so sorry, Leo, I didn’t know we would need it-”

“Oh,” Leonardo said, already having accepted his fate, “This is gonna suck.”

“I’m so sorry… Raph, can you- Can you hold him? For safety reasons.”

Raphael, now snapped out of his stupor, blinked a few times, looked between them, and nodded dutifully, grabbing onto Leonardo’s shoulders while whispering apologies.

After that was a blur of bright and dark, suppressed screams, and fighting kicking.

When it was over, he was shaking, blinking while Donatello examined his work. Oh god, that was burnt flesh he smelled. He had to swallow, praying he wouldn’t throw up.

“I’m so sorry- This isn’t- I didn’t think-” Donatello whispered and looked up to Leonardo with wide, tearful eyes.

“It’s alright, Donnie,” Leonardo whispered back, gripping Raphael’s hands with almost crushing force. “You’re just doing what you can, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You won’t- You’ll have a hard time walking for a while, if not the rest of your life, I had to burn out a lot of tissue.”

“Don, I’ve already got the knees of an old man, it can’t get much worse.”

Donatello cracked a sad smile at the joke, then went on with the list, trying to get it over with.

“When we get home, here’s what we’ll need to do for recovery, to make the best out of the situation, okay?…”

Oh. That was a long list.

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.”

Whumptober: All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go

It was supposed to be a simple patrol, a little investigation. They had suspected this group of being corrupt, or maybe doing some black market trade. It was supposed to be fine. Instead, they were running for their lives, lurching past closing walls and doors in a desperate attempt to get to the roof. At least up there, they would have a fighting chance, without humans chasing them down, taking shortcuts that they didn't know of, routes that could have saved them so much time and possibly even have allowed them to avoid this whole situation.

Michelangelo, in front, slammed the roof access door open, and they all flooded out after him. There was no time to close doors, no time to be quiet, they had to go right then. As they kept running, Leonardo glanced behind, no humans followed them up, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more following from the ground.

Stupid multi-building complex. It limited their ability to get out fast, and meant a bigger chance of being seen by the people who owned it or worked at it.

Alarms started up, and bright spotlights were turned on and shoot, they weren’t going to make it out, were they? He caught the look Raphael sent him, and he couldn’t exactly read it, but he had a good enough idea of what his brother was trying to get across to him. Past that, Donatello and Michelangelo shared a glance and they both looked terrified. They were all scared, he knew that, he could feel the distant terror himself, but letting it take over meant capture.

It meant death.

All he could do was keep up at the rear and make sure everyone was alright in the moment because at the very least, they knew a path out once on the rooftop.

...Dang it, he was right. There were people at the bottom of the buildings, dressed in black, bulletproof equipment and holding guns. If you squinted, more specifically, dart guns.

Oh, so they were aiming for- OH-

They were aiming for capture.

“GUYS!” Leonardo shouted over the wind and the alarms, getting their attention, “Watch out for the guns!”

There was a flash of terror in the youngest’s eyes as he glanced at Leonardo and Donatello looked down, the crease between his eye ridges deepening. Raphael only nodded, never looking back.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a dart in his neck and his vision was blurring. It started on the outside, barely noticeable, and then it intensified, pushed further in and gave him tunnel vision. Of course he ripped it out immediately, he wasn’t stupid.

But he wasn’t fast enough, the drug had entered his system and it was taking its toll. He was aware of the fact that he was lagging behind, after all, with his limited vision, he could see that they were getting ahead. He could see it, but he was tired, he was so, so tired. It felt like he could lay down and sleep forever, but in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had to stay awake. Just a little longer, just a little longer. There was a jump coming up, he had to make it, he couldn’t not.

It was… It was a lot bigger than he anticipated, he realized as they came up closer. They didn’t usually make jumps that big in a night. Not only that, but they would be jumping over barbed wire to get to the other building outside the complex. If one of them didn’t make it and fell? They’d be feeling that for weeks, assuming they weren’t taken because of the slip up. His worries could only grow.

I’m not going to make it, he realized bitterly. That was just a truth he would have to accept. He was not going to make it. They’d have to leave him.

He could only pray they were smart enough to realize that.

Michelangelo went first, doing a little aerial spin to show off while mid-air. Made it.

Donatello was second, more wary of the size of the gap, but still jumping when he believed the timing was right. Made it.

Raphael went next. He jumped just a tad too early and ended up skittering at the edge, but he made it.

It was Leonardo’s turn next, and he was dreading it. Why even try when he knew he was going to fall? He was dizzy and tired, everything was moving in slow motion and he could barely hear the alarms, but he was aware enough to realize that Raphael had paused to wait, realizing the eldest had fallen behind.

Idiot.

He knew he would fall, but Leo jumped anyway.

He jumped just a tad too early, misjudging the distance.

He skittered at the edge.

He did not make it.

Raphael had only stayed about a foot away from the edge, off to the side, and lurched forward, grabbing Leonardo by the wrist and grunting from the effort it took to keep him up.

“Gods- Fearless, how much have you been eating-?”

He took a second to take in Leonardo’s appearance. The moment it clicked was clear, and Leonardo felt sick.

“Oh,” the hot-head whispered, then turned and yelled for Donatello, resident doctor. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone. Their shells were heavy, Leonardo knew from experience from holding his brothers up.

Donatello screamed something back over the alarms, but Leonardo heard a gun reload and he didn’t want his brothers there anymore. Still, Raphael lingered, clinging on desperately. Donatello argued with Michelangelo in the background, screamed at him to leave. There were people coming out of buildings and police blocks and if his brothers didn’t leave soon, they'd all be goners.

“Hey, idiot,” Raphael has to yell, “Stay awake, alright? You ain’t dyin’ here. Stay with me. You can’t die here.”

The last part felt more desperate, and he could feel the shake in Raphael’s hands. Leonardo wanted to say something, wanted to reassure him or to pull himself up, but his tongue felt heavy as he struggled to speak, to say what he needed. Somewhere, in the back of his brain, hidden in the depths of the fog, he knew that in the end, Raphael would not be strong enough to hold him when he passed out. Donatello would not be fast enough to assist the hothead.

He was going to fall, and he knew it, even when he couldn't form coherent thoughts, even when he was fighting to stay awake.

Finally, Leonardo realized what he needed to say before he could leave them behind. It had to be fast, though, so he could get the message across quickly.

“I love you,” he choked out, vision darkening as he fought desperately to stay away, “I love you, I love you-”

The eldest was slipping. They were heavy, Raphael could not do it alone, he was slipping.

Donatello, in the back, finally sent Michelangelo away, then turned and raced towards them. Leonardo had fallen before he ever managed to get near, he heard the hot-head scream, but he didn’t ever remember letting go.

There were more humans coming, there were people with guns, Donatello had to grab Raphael’s shoulder and tear him away.

In the last moment he was awake, he remembered being faintly proud of them.

Leonardo was out long before he ever hit the ground.

%%%

The blue-clad turtle woke slowly. Sleep tugged at his mind and tried to convince him to return, but he knew he couldn’t. Something was wrong, something was wrong but what was-?

Oh.

Oh right.

As he became more aware, he realized that his arms and sides burned from scrapes and cuts. He must have fallen onto the barbed wire. He couldn’t see anything, but from the smell of disinfectant and other various chemicals, he knew that it was at the very least clean. But, with a little more movement and a sudden protest from sore muscles and damaged scales, he realized he was tied up.

Really tight, at that. Behind him, his arms and wrists were held together, legs bound at the knee and ankle, and his arms actually tied to his torso. It didn’t take long to realize he had been like that for a while, from how badly he was hurting in those areas. Did they really need to truss him up? At least it was quiet. It allowed him to think, with nothing other than the soft whir of machinery and the hum of fluorescent lights in other places that reminded him of Donatello’s lab.

There was nothing to do, the restraints could not be broken, and there was still a fuzzy feeling in his head. Maybe he could go back to sleep?

As he reconsidered and silently scolded himself for giving up, a door opened up, letting a blinding bright light into the room. Somebody walked in, and, as a reminder that he couldn’t hurt them, two armed men (men? Maybe women, he didn’t know) stood at the doorway.

So that’s the kind of place it was, huh? Dang it.

He writhed and wiggled even though he knew the binds were so tight they might as well be tourniquets, and he couldn't escape them. He hissed and snapped when he was lifted up by the edge of his shell and dragged along to a gurney where the binds were taken off so that he can quickly be tied down to the bed and secured more efficiently. His mind was so foggy from the leftover drug that he couldn't even fight it, just hiss and make that intimidating growl that alligators make to try and dissuade them from messing with him. The scientist(? Guard? Keeper?) was phased only for a second, then pushed the gurney along. The real guards, however, were not at all phased, they only hiss back.

Leonardo could only wonder where they were taking him. If the thick scent of chemicals in the air was any indicator, he would presume it was some kind of lab.

When they come to a stop, he realizes that the room they were in had quite a bit of medical equipment in it and-

Oh, that was a CT scan. Of course.

He began to regret everything, because really, there was no better time to be worrying than right at that moment. They move him from spot to spot, making sure he didn’t wriggle to his freedom or accidentally get hurt while they did… Whatever they were doing. The scribble of a pen on paper, and various clicks and beeps were his sign that they were actually gathering some kind of results from their tests. And then, the unarmed person put on gloves, and began to try and force his mouth open, and Leonardo presumed it was for a cheek swab. He growled, loud and clear, then suddenly forced his jaws back closed onto their hand, biting hard enough to draw blood. They yelped and pulled their hand back, and oh man that was a gun at his head.

His breathing hitched and he was afraid, but the unarmed human said not to shoot. He was new and prized, they wanted him alive. The next time, the guards forced his mouth open and he growled and spit while the scientist got the cheek swap. There was a scale sample taken afterwards, and a blood sample after that. When they were all done, he was taken back to the room, trussed up again, and left alone.

Or-

Maybe this was a different room? There was a camera in this one. Or maybe there was a camera in the last one (or the same one) and he didn't notice.

…

Even so, now that the drugs were fully wearing off, he was afraid. They were leaving him alone in an empty room, with no idea what was going to happen and he was scared, dang it. The cuts were stinging and he was sore, he had no idea how long he had been bound for. There were humans who knew of their existence, and he prayed to whatever deity was listening that his brothers were okay, that they left after he fell before they could be spotted by even more people or captured.

Oh wait, when was his last tetanus shot? Was the wire rusty? Shoot.

But, then again, maybe he already got one. They did want him alive, after all.

He struggled with the restraints for a bit, but gave up rather quickly, realizing nothing was going to happen.

The second ticked by like minutes. He wasn’t entirely sure how long it was until the door opened up again, but he did know that it was a different person. Still, there were two guards again. He was dragged out and tied to the gurney again, but this time there was another drug, a needle pushed into the side of his neck and he was immediately groggy. There was a thick fog in his mind, he couldn’t think and could barely move, muscles relaxed, forced to be calm on his way there, could barely see anything with the way his vision blurred, first at the edges, then quickly moving in until it was all blurry.

Separate rooms and bright, fluorescent lights faded away until he was in a darker part of the building, more sounds of animals to be heard, but not ones he had ever heard before. Guttural grunts, violent screams, and long howls melded together into the perfect mix for a skull-shattering migraine. What, was this some kind of messed up zoo?

Eventually, he was brought into a smaller room, carefully untied and plopped in. It was darker and smaller but the floor was a heck of a lot softer and oh, they thought he was a normal animal. Guess his magician's trick was working.

Extra large turtle to be shown to people and private collectors, coming right up, he presumed. Well, if he was already viewed as an animal, might as well keep that ruse up. Things would definitely get worse if they realized he was actually intelligent.

%%%

Was he gone for hours? Days? Weeks? Honestly, he didn’t know, nor did he want to.

However, over the next period of time, they were trying more and more foods. At least they didn’t want him to starve?

At first, they tried insects, trying to follow some kind of turtle’s diet, he guessed. But, at first, he had standards, and did not want the insects.

The next time they tried (he thought they tried after a few days), they brought various fruits. Still, he did not eat, even if it was just to spite them when they realized that their new pet wasn’t going to eat.

They tried some raw meat after, trying to toss it closer to him to see if they could provoke him into taking it. But, he had starved himself, and the smell only made his stomach roll, and yes, he was sick all over their (not so) nice floor.

At last, they tried some small fishes, this time giving him distance. Still, he wouldn’t touch it. They had to break eventually, right? He knew this method, knew from personal experience with other animals that it worked.

But the caretakers did not give. They only struggled, getting worried, not knowing how long he wouldn’t eat for and concerned that stress will make him starve, but he definitely had enough energy to bite them when they tried to get close.

Eventually, they came around and tried fruit again, hoping that it would spark some interest with something soft and sweet.

And, as ashamed as he was about it, Leonardo gave, devoured it like a wolf. If he planned on getting out, then he needed the energy and strength.

After regaining some of his energy, and realizing that he was free to move around, he began to pace around the room, never leaving the all-fours position in case they were watching, and trying to find some kind of weak point he could use for his escape.

Sleep, eat, drink, look for weak points, repeat. Over and over, no change in the routine, until.

Until they opened the door one day, a metal cage that felt too small just looking at it pushed up against the doorway. There were two guards, per usual, behind it, and a keeper stepping over the cage to get to him.

And holy crap, they were strong.

Despite his screams like a child denied a piece of candy, they wrestled him down and strapped a muzzle over his face to keep him from taking off somebody’s hand, then clipped a collar around his neck, a lead attached to it to try and drag him along. As soon as they stood up, though, believing that he would be calm after being restrained, he made a mad dash straight at the crate, dragging them along behind him, and jumped over it. Their grip loosened on the leash, and he was more than satisfied to hear them cry out as they crumpled behind him.

How did he forget about the guards there, though? He didn’t know. In his desperate attempt to get free, he had forgotten about the people standing there to prevent escape.

One wrapped their arms around his torso and forced him down, restraining flailing limbs and dragging him backwards while trying not to have something slammed into them. The other held the cage in place for them while the first wrestled him into it.

While he made as much noise as possible to very clearly represent his disappointment in them and threw himself against the bars, truly throwing himself into the “feral animal” role, they tried not to drop him while bringing him elsewhere.

The next room he was in was as dim as the last and dead silent. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop without even trying, and that fact was almost disconcerting. There should have been some kind of sound. The whir of light or machinery, other people, other creatures, but there was just… Nothing.

Leonardo made the mistake of hesitating to try and hear anything, right before they set him down rather roughly, rough enough to send him tumbling onto his side and for the keeper to scold the other two for pretty much dropping him. Before he could get up, a needle was pushed into his neck again, and it didn't take much to realize that this drug worked much faster than the other two.

He was half-asleep within seconds, and before he could try to tell himself to stay aware, he was completely out.

Whumptober: Just Keep Swimming

Leonardo narrowed his eyes to see better in the rain, watching droids go back and forth, carrying boxes into a plane.

"Shouldn't we stop them?" Raphael growled, one hand on his sai.

"No, there's too many, we can't take on all of them."

"What's the plan, then?" Donatello chimed in, already working out plans and calculations in his head.

"We'll sneak into the plane before takeoff and hijack it, then try to land it outside the city to avoid civilian casualties."

Leonardo got a few looks, but he ignored them, signaling for them to follow as he timed the gaps between guards, then darted into the cargo hold, his brothers following shortly behind. He wiggled between two crates and held his breath, watching as the others did his same.

Back and forth, back and forth, like mice, until the hold was shut and pressurized. The plane took off, slowly but surely, building up speed until they were in the air.

"Where are we heading, Don?" Leonardo asked, reiterating where they were going.

"Overseas, some part of Asia."

Leonardo nodded, even if the other couldn't see, and waited.

Enough time went by to leave him stiff, but unable to leave the area, just in case somebody came in.

And then Michelangelo stood up, probably not able to stand waiting that long, just as the door opened.

Michelangelo blinked, and then all heck broke loose.

The fight wouldn't have been bad, if somebody hadn't gotten thrown into a button. The cargo hold opened, and any cargo that wasn't locked down securely and any people who hadn't grabbed something were sucked outside, falling into the turbulent sea below.

Everybody froze, clinging onto something that wasn't moving, unsure of what to do next with the risk of falling. Then, one of the attackers took a risk, lunging at Leonardo, dislodging him, and sending them both into the black of the storm.

Stillness, howling wind, rain that seemed to move backwards as he fell down.

"LEO!"

Those were his brothers, and he was losing them. He couldn't see them anymore, the plane lights disappearing rapidly.

He was going to hit the water. Leonardo twisted midair, trying to sort himself out like a diver. If he hit the water any other way, he'd probably die. No, scratch that, he'd definitely die.

He didn't fully make it on his way down, leg splintering with a sickening crack, and the shock of hitting the icy water forcing him to freeze up.

However, from the sound of it, his attacker wasn't as lucky.

Leonardo sank for a long minute, stunned, before thrashing. He needed to swim, he needed to not drown.

But the water was pitch black, and he had no clue which way was up. For all he knew, he could have been going further down.

Suddenly, he broke the surface and took a deep breath, coughing and floundering. Then, he was pulled back under, depriving of air. In a momentary panic, he swam desperately, kicking and fighting to get back up. Around him, the water was tight and constricting, and it only reminded him of the Technodrone again, getting dragged down, the ship exploding-

This was not the same situation, he had to remind himself, fumbling for a small knife as he calmed down and continued to sink. His gear was waterlogged, it would only continue to pull him down until he got rid of it.

Working as fast as he could, Leonardo carved through the knee and elbow pads, then as much as it hurt him, wrestled the belts off and dropped them. Finally ripping his mask off, Leo swam up as fast as he could go, he needed to hurry.

He broke the surface again, and floated around on black waters, groping for anything that would allow him to stay out of the water that threatened to take him back and drown him. Eventually, he bumped into what he assumed was a small box, and held on for dear life.

Leonardo coughed and choked before a wave slammed into him, attempting to pull him back. Fighting against it, he clawed at the box desperately, then pulled himself up onto it, no matter its size. The knife went into the box, and Leo gripped it with both hands. That, at the moment, was his lifeline. If he let go, he was gone.

The next thing Leonardo remembered was waking up, still clinging to that same knife. It was the middle of the day, dry, sunny, and he was soaked.

He blinked owlishly a few times. What was he..?

Oh, right.

Leonardo pulled his limbs onto the box, sore, aching, and salt crusted against his joints. He groaned softly, and performed a quick once-over to make sure he hadn't gotten too terribly busted up. On his right arm, at the elbow, there was a cut that seemed to have stopped bleeding a while ago. It was probably made in his panic to get free of the pads. To protect it in case of anything later, he took the bandages off his hands and wrapped them around the injury, then winced and hissed. Right, salt. He'd be feeling like he had hand sanitizer on an open injury for quite some time.

Oh, but that was a bigger issue. A much, much bigger issue. His stomach rolled, and Leo swallowed to keep whatever he last ate down. Somehow, he managed to miss the broken bone in his leg. Not only was it broken, it was displaced, too. Not very ideal for his situation.

But, there wasn't really much he could do at the moment, so he checked where the waves were heading, hopped in the water, and started kicking with his good leg, pushing the box as he went. As long as he didn't look down, he should've been fine.

...And, he still had to look at the open water fading into darkness. Don't think about what could be there, he reminded himself, Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it...

Leonardo didn't know how long he swam for, but eventually, black depths faded to murky kelp forests, sand and seaweed kicked up by the storm. It would have been strangely beautiful, if it didn't mean that he had absolutely no idea where he was, nor what could be beneath him.

He swam just a little further, trying to get out of that area, to no avail. Eventually, he sighed and pulled himself back up onto the box and examined his leg.

A long moment passed, and he slowly set his hands on where the bone was pushing against the skin.

CRACK!

Leonardo screamed, loud and thoughtless, coming straight from the burning agony on his leg, and tightened his grip to the point that his skin turned white.

He trembled, then slowly released his leg, now appearing mostly normal besides the swelling. Any leftover bandages were used to keep the bone in place. He wished he had a splint or something, but it would have to do.

Leonardo leaned forward and closed his eyes.

%%%

Another day, and Leonardo hopped back into the water. He tried swimming again, keeping an eye out for any driftwood or seabirds. Still nothing, no land anywhere, even if he squinted.

He hopped back up to save his energy, although he assumed that it wouldn't do much in the end.

%%%

Day number three. He was feeling… Off. It was coming, he could feel in the distance. He knew it was there. It was coming, no matter how much he fought it.

Still, it was worth it to try swimming. He might as well make some progress.

His energy drained too fast, too fast. It was coming, he knew. Still, he crawled out of the water and laid down. Maybe a short rest would do him some good.

But, something brushed against his bad leg, still in the water, sending shockwaves of pain up and down, and startled him back into the world of the living. A short whine escaped him, as childish as it was. He wanted to go back to sleep, and not wake up for hours. What was brushing against his leg and why?

Leonardo pulled his leg up and sat up, trying to be careful as he crossed his legs. He peered into the water and paused. Oh. It was a whale? That was a whale. More specifically, it looked like a humpback. He gaped, because it wasn’t every day that he got to see one in person. After pausing for a moment, Leonardo reached down, gently brushing his hand against it’s smooth skin. In response, it cooed and bellowed, coming up and shooting water out of its blowhole. Leonardo squeaked and raised his hands to shield himself, as if he hadn’t been hopping in and out of the water for days. Then, he smiled, momentarily forgetting about his previous desolation, and leaned back, letting the whale take him along. They were both following the current, so they might as well travel together, right? He rolled onto his stomach, resting his limbs in the water and glancing down. Unlike before, it was crystal clear, allowing him to see the bottom. It was actually rather nice, not having to worry about what could possibly be below him.

Eventually, the whale left, leaving him lonely and vaguely disappointed. Guess he would have to go alone again.

%%%

He made it a fourth day? Incredible. But he was so tired, even though he didn't do anything to be that exhausted. He was so tired, he'd sink if he tried to swim. Heck, he wanted to get back home, he wanted to see the city lights, he wanted to be running on the rooftops, not floating in the endless ocean. He wanted to see his brothers, to see Michelangelo enthusing over a new game or comic or something he had drawn, to hear Donatello rambling over an idea he had, fawning over April in a haze of puppy love, to spar Raphael and see the joy that followed from having an equal opponent, the competitive fire.

Oh God, Raphael would fall into a self-destructive spiral, the same as Leonardo did, under the burden of being a leader, he wouldn't be able to take the stress, that's why Leonardo offered to be leader.

He didn't want to let them fall to that.

Leonardo closed his eyes.

Something hit the bottom of the box.

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.