Whumptober: Just A Scratch

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: The Doctor Is In

Leonardo fixed a wary gaze on the dark figure moving around in the shadows, switching between multiple laptops and a phone while mumbling to themself. A couple moments later, they gave a triumphant laugh, and picked up a syringe. His breathing started spiralling out of control, as it had multiple times in the past couple of days.

Calm, he needed to be calm. What situation was he in, what could he control?

Well, he was bound and gagged, and probably about to get experimented on but-

He could control his breathing and how he reacted to this situation. In, and out. In-

A needle was pushed into his neck and he choked down a whine as he was nearly overwhelmed with exhaustion. The person who injected him with the mystery fluid smirked and grabbed his (his? His, that was a he, Leonardo could see better now) phone. He turned the lights up and forced Leonardo to squint in the sudden, blinding light. Whoever captured him smirked, and held up the phone with the camera pointed at him.

"You’re going to be broadcasted now, everybody will know that there are aliens," Leonardo's rage boiled. They were not aliens (he had been spending far too much time with Donatello). They spent most of their time protecting Earth from aliens! “Remember to smile for the camera."

%%%

They searched everywhere.

Everywhere.

Literally, all across the city, every building they could get to, turning places inside out, scouring the surface for their missing brother. It was like he had just disappeared. The tracker in his phone had stopped working all of a sudden, and they were left in the dark as to where he might've been. Seriously, they nearly beat someone to death looking for clues, for God's sake! Where was he?

They were going on a wild goose chase with no good outcome if they had zero idea where he disappeared to, a handful of leads, and barely any clues. At that point, they were desperate. They'd take anything given to them, as long as they got closer to solving the mystery.

Suddenly, the city lighting changed while they were looking around. There was a deafening sound of microphone feedback from multiple points across the city, forcing everybody to cover their ears, mutant or human. The city went silent.

New York City was not supposed to be silent.

Three brothers tensed and looked up when the sound had passed, tense and ready for a fight.

But there was no threat, just some dude in his mid-twenties in a brightly lit room. He looked like Bishop, almost. If Bishop was about ten years younger, had longer hair, and a ton more spunk and energy. Donatello got drained just by looking at him, and that was saying something, considering he had Michelangelo as a brother.

But this kid had also apparently found a way to access every large screen in New York, so that probably wasn't good.

"People of New York!" He began, "Believe me if you will, but I have found an alien!"

Donatello and Raphael shared a look, something skeptical, wary, and incredulous. Michelangelo was enthralled, as if aliens were something new to him. The camera turned quickly, a blur of white and blue and green and-

The three blanched as they took in the sight, and people gasped below.

Leonardo, tied hand and foot with a gag in his mouth. Leonardo, looking far more tired than before he left. Leonardo, bandaged and stitched in some places. Dread hit Donatello first, followed by unadulterated rage. So that’s where he had been all that time. Probably, he had been right underneath their noses, and yet they just never saw it. Now, he paid the price.

"I suspect that there are more, not just this one. This is just the beginning of something bigger."

There were a few murmurs from below, as if the people of New York hadn't lived through multiple invasions that they stopped. It wasn't anything new. Had this kid- Correction: Man- Been living in a bubble?

"Today, my dear people, I will be running experiments. We, together, are going to see what makes it go tick. What can we move today? If any other aliens are watching, this is a threat. We have one of your own, I'd recommend backing off of our planet."

Donatello felt sick and turned away when the sounds started up. Sounds of tools he knew, but would never even think of using on his family, or anyone for that matter. It got worse, muffled screams of agony reaching him even through his oldest brother's gag, the background noise of machinery, and the speaker that Donatello doubted was any good. The wails came through crystal clear, as if there was nothing to block it with.

Raphael covered Michelangelo's ears as the youngest borrowed into his plastron, choking back sobs.

It took a minute for Donatello to realize that he himself was trembling madly, unable to get relief from the second-hand torture until the government eventually interfered. This broadcast was definitely not under official order.

“They’re-” Michelangelo cried, “They’re hurting him! They’re hurting him, we have to do something!”

“What we need to do is find him.” Donatello curled his hands into fists so that his knuckles turned white, “He’ll kill him at this rate.”

Raphael, for the first time in a while, served as a voice of reason. “But everybody has seen Leo now. The people who don’t think it’s a hoax will be actively looking for us and the Mutanimals-”

“I don’t care,” Donatello hissed, trying to keep his voice low, “that’s our brother he’s experimenting on, and I’m not leaving him.”

“Don’t make a scene, Don.” Raphael looked down and tried to soothe Michelangelo without moving his hands away from his ears, “We’ll be found sooner if you do.”

Donatello took a breath and tried to soothe his frayed nerves. That was… Incredibly uncharacteristic of him. He shouldn’t have lashed out at Raphael like that, it wasn’t his fault. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Raphael nodded, and started moving, hesitantly taking his hands off of Michelangelo’s ears and nudging him to move. Donatello would have preferred it if he had yelled back.

They went around their usual area, going back to places where they thought they were on to something, and people had gotten fleeting glances at their missing brother. Donatello tried to block out the wails, to no avail. It was just a constant reminder that they were so close, yet so far.

Don’t give up yet, he reminded himself, You’ll be giving up on him if you do that.

Below them, there was a great deal of reactions from people. Some had their phones out, either recording (ew) or calling a number. Others had covered childrens’ eyes and ears, and were moving away, trying to get away from the gruesome experimentation. The rest were skeptical, afraid, wary, angry, or morbidly fascinated. Donatello wished that the screens would go back to their normal ads and programs already, anything, just not having to witness his oldest brother in splintering agony.

Half an hour passed. Wails and screams turned to soft cries and grunts, then silence beside ragged breathing.

Donatello risked sneaking a look, and froze like a deer in headlights.

He shouldn’t- He shouldn’t have looked like that. There was blood everywhere, splattered on clothes, on scales, on the floor and walls, but unfortunately not onto the camera. There were some things missing, removed by a mad doctor who was probably out of his mind. Leonardo was wrecked almost beyond recognition, if Donatello hadn’t seen his brother just moments earlier.

He bit back a sob, unable to look away. It was unethical. It was gruesome. It was awful.

Michelangelo grabbed his shoulder, jolting him out of his paralysis. Donatello turned to look at him and realized that there were tears flowing down his own cheeks. Behind him, the sounds finally stopped, the lighting changed. The screens were finally back under control. Raphael joined Michelangelo’s side and nodded to Donatello, looking about as sorrowful as Donatello felt.

%%%

They had no leads, had to (literally) go underground to avoid getting caught, and couldn’t even go up to the surface to help with investigation. Casey and April took over the investigation, but didn’t have much luck either. They were getting desperate, grasping at straws. They’d take anything at that point, just remembering seeing that madman play with Leonardo’s body like he was a doll, ripping him almost to pieces.

%%%

Leonardo gasped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to assess the damage. His head was swimming from the pain and blood loss, he could barely remember his own name at the moment, but if he wanted to find a way out, he needed to remember what was not going to move and what wasn’t there anymore.

Shoot, at this rate, how did he even plan on living to the next day? He needed to get out fast, but his body wouldn’t move when he told it to, it wouldn’t even budge.

The male from earlier came back, holding another syringe filled with ominous blue liquid. Oh. Oh, no. His day just kept getting better and better, huh?

%%%

“I FOUND SOMETHING!” April yelled as she busted into the lair.

Everybody was on their feet immediately, ready to take anybody out and get Leonardo back.

“His name is Alek Wright, twenty-four, American. He just graduated college recently, believes in the supernatural, and is extremely unethical and willing to take risks.”

Oh. That explained a lot about why he was so eager to move things around that should not have been moving. He really was a “mad scientist”.

Raphael bit the inside of his cheek.

There was blood everywhere, splattered on clothes, on scales, on the floor and walls, but unfortunately not onto the camera. There were some things missing, removed by a mad man. Leonardo was wrecked almost beyond recognition, ripped to pieces on camera.

“What are we waiting for?” he growled and shook his head to clear away the image. “We need to go find him. You got an address of some kind?”

April nodded and led them outside. He prayed that they wouldn’t be too late, and that there wouldn’t just be a bloody mess waiting for them.

%%%

“This is the place?” Raphael whispered, itching to just get in and get his older brother already.

April nodded, and Raphael wrinkled his nose. It definitely fit the “lab” description. Tall building, definitely not housing, multiple floors, and clearly well maintained and used frequently. How the heck did this dude get a hold of a building like that? There was no way that he wasn’t part of something official if he got his hands on something so professional looking.

“Then let's get in and get Leo!” Michelangelo huffed and fidgeted, trying to stare through the windows.

Donatello nodded, and looked to Raphael, the leader while Leonardo was gone. He nodded back, and the four, including April, snuck inside. They wandered around a bit, looking for something, anything, and then-

Blood. Lots, and lots of blood, trailing into a room. Logically, they followed it into a separate room, one with multiple pieces of well-used equipment, computers, bright lights and-

Leonardo. Bloody and half dead, multiple pieces of his body replaced with something else, and asleep. Or maybe unconscious? Perhaps he passed out from the blood loss. Either way, Raphael didn’t know. But he did know that he was running towards his oldest brother as fast as he could and crouching in front of him, a hand on his neck to check his pulse.

It was weak and kept stuttering, but it was there. He was alive.

“Oniichan,” Raphael breathed, “We’re here for you, don’t worry. We’ll get you out of this pit.”

“HA!” Came a victorious laugh from behind them, “I was right! There are-”

Gone. Before Raphael knew what he was doing, he had stood up and whirled on his heel, tossing multiple kunai into that mad man’s face. It wasn’t the most ethical thing he could have done, but it worked, and he was dead at their feet. Nobody said anything, probably satisfied with the outcome. The “doctor” would never bother them again.

Donatello helped Raphael pick Leonardo up, hovering around him nervously and occasionally holding his hand over Leonardo like it would do something. Raphael felt a pang of pity for his younger brother, but refused to let Leonardo go, not so soon after finding him.

%%%

At home, Donatello had hooked Leonardo up to multiple machines and sat nearby for watch while waiting for him to wake up. He had to set multiple things right on Leonardo’s body if he wanted anything to go well.

A soft sigh of relief escaped him as he settled to just listen to the steady heartbeat belonging to his oldest brother. He was alive, he was alive, he was-

It flatlined, and Donatello stumbled to his feet, reaching over to Leonardo. CPR, he knew CPR, but it had to be shorter than a minute, or he wouldn’t be able to do it. Shorter than a minute-

Raphael and Michelangelo came flying in, and hovered nearby when they saw Donatello doing CPR. They’d need to be there if Donatello couldn’t do it.

He barely noticed them, though, repeating the mantra “30 compressions, 2 breaths” in his head. If he forgot, he would never let himself live it down.

It took longer than a minute. Donatello had to step back, trembling from exhaustion, and let Raphael take over. He couldn’t get him back either, and Michelangelo went next. When that failed, Donatello went next, repeating the mantra again. Then the heartbeat started back up again, and the relief in the room was almost palpable. Some way, somehow, he was still kicking.

“Well,” Donatello said, “I think I’m going to take a nap now before my heart fails me too. Mikey, can you watch him? Wake me up if something goes wrong.”

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: Rumors Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated (3/5)

Hours turned to days, weeks to months, and months to a full year.

Leonardo was not coming back, and they would have to accept that. If he had stayed away for so long, then he was definitely dead. He wouldn’t willingly leave them like that, right?

Raphael did not want to accept that. Not just that Leonardo was part of his family, and accepting that meant giving up on him, but the weight of being leader fell onto his shoulders, a role he swore that he would never attempt to take again. That was Leonardo’s role, nobody else’s.

And, he had to take it. Because Leonardo was gone for good.

That’s how Raphael found himself alone, on the surface, kicking stones and other debris around in his anger. Leonardo had to still be alive, he had to be. They were just giving up on him, when he could very well be alive and stuck.

Raphael grit his teeth and bit back the scream forming. He couldn’t cause a scene on the surface, not when people were probably still awake. Crumpling by a sign, he gripped the sides of his head and sobbed, knowing he was alone. It felt like he was going insane, why did that idiot have to play martyr?

A couple minutes passed, or maybe it was more. Maybe it was a half hour, or an hour. Maybe he had his family worried. He couldn’t care right then, he just wanted to be alone.

But being alone was not a privilege he got. He could feel something or someone standing there, hovering nearby.

He stilled, breathing hitching as silent tears continued to fall down his face, before he slowly looked up.

It was- It was Leonardo? No, it couldn’t be, he was gone for a year. The apparition stared, wide-eyed. They had no gear, and Raphael lost count of the sheer amount of scars lining their limbs and plastron almost as soon as he tried to count them.

That was not his brother. His brother was dead, his brother was gone for a year, disappearing behind a heavy metal wall. It had to be a ghost. There was no other reasonable answer.

Something between sorrow and wrath bubbled up inside Raphael, followed by a few other emotions that flashed by so fast he couldn’t pause to identify them. That wasn’t his brother. That was a ghost, a dream, a hallucination, something, it just wasn’t Leonardo.

Still, the ghost crouched and reached their hand out, tilting their head, smiling in the soft way the oldest always did when any of them were afraid or sad, it was too close, too close-

Raphael shivered, then forced both his hands down, throwing a punch at the ghost and standing as they backed up. Why did it keep antagonizing him like this? What was the joy there? He didn’t want to see the oh so familiar face anymore, he wanted to be left alone!

The scream from earlier finally escaped him as he chased after the spirit, trying to hit it, maybe then it would leave him to his misery.

Or maybe it would take him, maybe he could leave with Leonardo, then.

Either way, it kept dodging, moving fluidly around his punches in a circle around the roof, never fighting back, not disappearing. Raphael didn’t know which he wanted more; For it to fight back, although incorporeal, or for it to leave so he could continue wallowing in self-pity.

“He left us!” Raphael yelled, no longer caring who heard or what happened, tears flowing down his face without a problem, “He’s probably dead, because we haven’t heard a single thing from him in a year, and there’s no way he’d leave us that long!”

Something flashed on the ghost’s face that almost resembled guilt, but Raphael missed it, crumpling back to the ground and voice cracking with sobs as he shook his head. “And now? I’m screaming at his ghost, trying to fight it for God’s sake, and I feel like I’m going insane.”

%%%

Leonardo looked his brother over from where he stood, eye ridges knitted in concern. How far had they fallen in the time he was gone, so that Raphael openly cried like this, that he thought Leonardo was a ghost?

Seriously, he crossed half of America, just for this to happen.

He approached the shaking figure slowly, crouched back down and slowly reached out, nervous that the other might strike out at him again.

Thankfully, Raphael did not. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice Leonardo at that point. Leonardo took a chance, grabbing a firm hold of his wrist and hoping he didn't scare the other too much.

Raphael attempted to jerk away, eyes wide as he looked to Leonardo, panicking.

"Hey," Leonardo moved to hold his hand instead, gripping it tightly between both of his, "Hey, it's me. It's me, Raph. It's me, I'm real. Look, look, I can touch you. I'm holding you. You can even hit me if you want."

Raphael paused, looking him over. Did he believe Leonardo? The eldest hoped so, although he also hoped that the younger wouldn't actually attempt to hit him.

He stared for a longer moment, dead silent, before:

"Leo?"

"Yes?"

Another choked son left him as he lunged forward, trapping Leonardo in a crushing hug. Leonardo froze, tense, but slowly hugged him back, shushing him and rubbing his shell.

They sat together until Raphael's sobs faded to sniffles. Leonardo waited for Raphael to say that he was done, when all of a sudden, the hothead pulled away and dragged Leonardo up after him. After the initial alarm passed, the older said nothing, realizing that they were heading down to the manhole.

Honestly, it just made the whole process easier. He had already been planning on how to come back, he just… Didn't know how to come back to them naturally. So yeah, having Raphael take him there made it a lot easier-

Did that shadow just move? Nobody was following them, right?

...Nothing moved, it was just a trick of the light, there was no one there.

Still, he scanned the darkness, just in case. Raphael paid his behavior no mind, focusing solely on getting him home. Once at the lair, Raphael slammed something- Leonardo didn't see what- Down, making extra noise to grab the younger two's attention.

They looked up from where they had been bickering, and froze, silent. Then, they erupted in screams, running at him and scooping Leonardo up in a hug. Leonardo melted into their grip, just relieved to be home. He missed the warmth, the low hum of electronics, his brothers, most of all.

Then, they were all asking questions, firing them at him like a machine gun, and he had to cut them off, getting one question and giving one answer at a time.

By the end of it, they were all concerned, because to be fair, it sounded less than pleasurable.

Leonardo smiled, to reassure them.

And then he collapsed.

Whumptober: Trust Fall

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Leo-!"

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

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

Oh.

That felt… really important.

And probably like something he should tell Leonardo.

"Hey, Leo?"

"What?"

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

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

They were being watched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mikey, you trust me, right?"

"Huh?"

"Do you trust me?"

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

No, nononono-!

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

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

"Leo!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

%%%

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

Leonardo did not come back.

A lone tear slid down Michelangelo's face.

Whumptober: 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.