Whumptober: They Made Me Do It

Whumptober: They Made Me Do It

Leonardo watched Michelangelo run round and round the table, getting chased by the wasp. He timed their passes and got ready to jump, just in case he needed to intervene.

"He's really turned running away screaming into an art form," Raphael quipped, and Leonardo couldn't hide a little amused smile.

"Well, at least he's good at something, right?" Donatello commented. Michelangelo, almost immediately after, tripped, and Donatello followed up with: "Good-ish."

The wasp came crashing down after the youngest, and the older three took that as their cue, hopping out of their hiding spot and towards the giant insect.

But, of course, Michelangelo just had to disobey orders, and struck out with his nunchucks, taking both the wasp, and the others, down in the process before getting dragged around in the wasps panic. Donatello and Raphael were thrown against the wall, leaving only Leonardo standing.

Well, per usual, it was up to Leonardo to do something about it. Pushing back his twinge of annoyance, he drew his katanas, ready to end that thing then and there.

The wasp went at him, much faster than he anticipated, and promptly jabbed its stinger into his arm. His vision went dark as pain erupted in his right arm. The next time he could see again, the wasp was dead on the floor and his brothers were discussing why it died.

"...The wasp died because it lost its stinger." Donatello concluded, giving the dead wasp an experimental poke.

Leonardo couldn't swallow his indignance and blurted out: "Yeah, in me! Thanks a lot, Mikey!" That wasn't like him. He didn't usually yell like that. He wasn't too snappy.

...Usually.

"Heh, sorry dude." Michelangelo laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Let me see that," Donatello said, grabbing the stinger and pulling it out harshly. Leonardo let out a short sound of pain and rubbed the swollen spot on his arm. Ow. "Are you okay?" The purple banded turtle asked.

"Pretty sure, but I think I'll think I'll be…" he trailed off with a twitch. Something was pulling him to the far corner of the room. Something was… He needed to find something. "...fine."

Donatello's eyes widened in astonishment as he looked the stinger over. "Mutations are generally anthropomorphic. I've never seen mutagen create giants like this before!"

"Yeah, real fascinating, Donnie." Raphael elbowed him, beak wrinkled and his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The pull intensified to the point it was almost painful, and Leonardo was compelled to follow it. He turned and wandered off to a seemingly inconspicuous pile of newspapers. Pulling them away revealed a large yellowish oval. An egg, he realized.

That egg was important.

He needed to protect that egg.

"Woah, look!" He said instead of keeping it to himself.

"It's some kind of... egg," Donatello said as he approached.

No duh, he snarked silently.

"Stand back. I'll handle this," Michelangelo said confidently, grabbing his nunchucks.

"I'm betting on the egg," Raphael huffed with a smirk.

A surge of protectiveness ran through Leonardo. It wasn't supposed to be there. The egg wasn't anything more than a danger. Still, he yelled, "Wait!" He didn't want to say the rest, he didn't want to say any of it, but it was like he was possessed. "We're not hurting it. We came here to find out what the Kraang are up to, and this egg is our only clue. We should take it back to the lab and let Donnie analyze it."

"Great idea!" Raphael snapped, "Let's take the mutant wasp egg into our home where we live! What's the worst that can happen?"

"It's not safe leaving us around. It'll be fine, I'll just keep an eye on it."

"I'll get it," Michelangelo interfered, reaching down.

No! He'll drop it! This will all be for naught. Well that voice was new.

"Hands off!" Leonardo shouted and pushed himself between the egg and Michelangelo, causing him to yelp and the rest to look over at him.

"Dude, are you alright?" Raphael asked, looking him over, "Because unmotivated bursts of anger are kind of my thing."

"It's just that the egg could be fragile," Leonardo reasoned as he picked up the egg, scrambling to not set off any alarms, "Mikey cannot be trusted with it. I'm carrying it myself."

"I'm beginning to think that he likes that egg more than me," Michelangelo whined, looking over at him longingly. As if he didn't spend as much time as he did with the youngest.

"Well, the egg talks less than you, so there's that," Raphael laughed.

Leonardo stared at the egg the whole way to the Shellraiser. What was going on? He didn't yell like that and he certainly didn't want this thing home. Why was he so protective over it?

%%%

Leonardo tapped his knee rapidly, shaking his head like it would fix something. He wanted to go somewhere else, do other things, get rid of this godforsaken egg, but something rooted him to the place. It hurt to move away, hurt to do anything other than watch over it.

It might be worth it, his mind supplied, This might prove fruitful.

His mind was probably right. Trusting his conscience usually worked out for him.

Find other hosts, it immediately tried to order, Others who will protect. Feed. Watch.

His head hurt, and he raised a hand to grab it, trying to alleviate the pain. The voice grew louder.

Attack, fight, protect! Protect spawn, next generation! Gather food, gather hosts!

No! No, he needed to stay right where he was. He wasn't going to fight when it wasn't necessary.

The egg needed protection.

It needed him.

It needed food.

Leonardo shook his head again. Maybe he would just… Sit for a bit. And try to get his thoughts together before he tore himself apart.

%%%

Michelangelo eventually came sauntering over, getting far too close for his liking. It set off multiple mental alarms, and Leonardo whirled to face him.

Get him away! Protect! PROTECT!

"Back away!" He screamed, and Michelangelo scrambled backwards. "Touch it and I'll kill you! Go!"

Leonardo froze. That wasn't him talking. He'd never say that to any of his family. What came over him? Why did he say that? He didn't mean it? Why couldn’t he move away?

Michelangelo ran.

%%%

Donatello came to him next.

"Leo?" He began, tentatively, as if he was afraid that Leonardo might lash out at him as well, "We're, um, we're worried about you-"

"Go. Now," Leonardo hissed at him.

Something was wrong. He needed to go before he hurt somebody or worse, killed them.

ATTACK! MORE HOSTS FOR THE SPAWN!

That dang voice again. It was still getting louder, sharpening the pain from his headache until it was like an ice pick stuck in his skull.

Donatello the hint and turned, speed walking back into his lab where Leonardo assumed they were all hiding out. Because he was scaring them.

The egg would not let him move away from it, however, that didn't mean he couldn't take it with him.

Leonardo wrapped his arms around the egg and stood, still careful with its fragile shell. He took it and ran far, far away.

He didn't really have a plan for where he was going, he was just running. Anywhere would work.

No! Whatever that voice was screamed, Go back! Turn them! Create food sources for the next generation!

Leonardo grit his teeth and stopped running. If he wanted to do anything, he needed to stop hearing that voice. Then, he would stop feeling that resistance on his limbs, and he could move a little more freely.

He slammed his head against the wall and screamed as loud as he could, drowning out the shouts about "hosts" and "spawn" and "food". He slammed his skull against the brick wall until blood trickled down his temple and slicked a part of the wall. At least the voice had quieted to something more manageable, even if his head hurt worse. If he could think for ten seconds, he could plan a way out of this mess he’d gotten himself into. All he needed was some kind of plan on how to get rid of the egg, then he’d be fine, right? The voice should go away, after all, it only started when he had the egg.

“LEO!”

Shoot, they were coming after him. Leonardo crumpled to the floor, curled up around the egg and leaned against the wall. If he left, it was only to protect them. Why would they go after him when he was dangerous?! As he silently cursed their names, he raised a hand to his head. The voice was back, louder than before now that his family was near.

TURN THEM! GATHER GUARDIANS FOR EGG!

Leonardo screamed again, this time out of the splitting agony in his head like it was getting cracked open.

Then, the pain was gone, and his body was moving without his command. Panic shot through him, followed by a surge of adrenaline. He wished it wouldn’t, but his body moved forward anyway, one sword drawn with intent to hurt or, god forbid it, kill.

He was sick to his stomach when the blood sprayed. Clawing at his own mind to try and free himself, Leonardo screamed silently as his body lunged forward and struck out at his brothers. Still, he could do nothing, and it drove him crazy.

Raphael got too close, and whatever was controlling him took a chance. Leonardo lunged forward and trapped the second oldest in combat by locking their weapons, just long enough to sink his teeth into his arm.

Yes! It has spread! More hosts for the next generation!

No! No, he had to- He had to keep trying to fight, or else he would hurt them badly.

Leonardo suddenly regained his control of his own body and scrambled backwards, dropping his katana. He needed to run before they went at him again, before they got hurt again.

So he did. He turned and ran as fast as he could. Only after he had achieved a distance that he thought was safe did he sit back down to try and gather his scrambled thoughts.

He bit Raphael.

He had spread that stupid voice to him as well.

Leonardo looked at the egg and set it down, then twisted to look at his remaining katana. Slowly, he drew the blade and shifted to sit on his knees.

He raised the sword high above his head, ready to bring it down upon that cursed egg. Just one strike, the membrane would split open, and the larva inside would die. Then he’d be free, and his family would be safe. It would only take one hit if he did it right.

No! Do not attack the spawn! It is almost time!

The katana fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and he went reeling backwards before curling up and whining. It hurt. It hurt to disobey. It hurt. Ithurtithurtithurtithurt-

The silence was shattered. The sound was quiet, near impossible to hear, but if he strained...

Click click click~

Leonardo glanced down at the sound, freezing when he saw an antenna dangerously close to the surface. They were already hatching? He thought he would have more time! It needed to die as soon as possible, but how?

An idea sparked in his mind. He knew what he had to do.

Grabbing the egg, he scrambled to his feet in search of a body of water deep enough to do what he needed to do.

A pool. He needed a pool. That would work perfectly for this. Against his plastron, the egg twitched and the larva inside pushed against the wall of the egg, yearning for freedom. He had to do it fast, because the offspring of the wasp would wait no longer.

He dropped to his knees and forced the egg under.

NO! THE OFFSPRING! PROTECT! PROTECT!!!

Leonardo screamed in agony, dropping far enough that his forehead almost touched the ground, his grip on the egg loosening just a bit.

A crack formed under his fingers, though, and he reset his hold on it as the offspring broke through. No, not one. There were two more behind it. It was only the first of three.

They, however, were not made for swimming, especially fresh out of their egg. Shortly after leaving their cocoon, the hatchlings drowned, sinking slowly in the water.

The screams in his head reached their peak before slowly fading after the wasp's children drowned. He scrambled backwards, reveling in the silence.

It was finally quiet. He was safe. His family was safe. The wasps were gone, (hopefully) to never be seen again.

Leonardo rested his face on his knees and let out a long breath.

He wanted a nap.

Whumptober: Oops, I Did It Again

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

%%%

God, NO, why right now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe next time.

%%%

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

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

%%%

The air on the ship was cold.

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

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

Oh heck no.

He thought it was over!

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

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

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

Donatello tilted his head, confused. “What?”

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

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

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

“Well,” Donatello started, sounding unsure.

“Well,” Leonardo repeated.

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

%%%

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

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

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

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

The wheezing got worse.

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

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

Seconds ticked by, then minutes.

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

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

...Too late, apparently.

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

"Hallway between the common room and my room."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm."

"Shoot."

Whumptober: That’s 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: One Down, Two To Go

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

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

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

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

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

“I did not!”

“You did every time you lost, Raph.”

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

“What actually happened, Leo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If he fell or slowed down, he would die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Raph, don’t-”

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

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

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

%%%

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It won't change anything."

"Leo! This is-!"

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought they were safe.

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

But NO. They. Came. BACK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You always do."

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

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

There were footsteps coming down the hall.

Nobody came down that way, towards where they were.

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

The door to his right opened, where Donatello was.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh GOD no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brothers.

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

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

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

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

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

Well that was-

Certainly something.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was a helicopter.

They really were taking him, huh?

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

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

Whumptober: Lost & Found

Leonardo complied when they dragged him along the halls. He complied when they tried to take a stab at his pride by tripping him and forcing him to ask for help standing.

But then he saw the trunk, the rope, and the black waters, and he pulled to a stop.

"Don't, please don't."

He couldn't bear it, knowing what they were going to do.

"Shut up."

"Please, this isn't-"

Why was he even bothering? This was stupid and degrading, and it wouldn't work anyway. He should have just stopped.

"I said shut up."

"This won't work, y'know. You'll probably kill me."

"It'll be worth it if you die. Get in."

Leonardo stared at the trunk, frozen to the spot. He was not getting in that thing. Not after getting dragged down into the black abyss of the ocean, after almost drowning to save somebody else.

But somebody shoved him, and he went tumbling. "No" wasn't an option. It was dumb to beg. It wouldn't do anything, he should have stopped.

"You're a turtle, right?" One of his captors drawled while he got as comfortable as he could, "You'll be fine! I'm fairly certain you're semi-aquatic."

Then, the top shut, suffocating him in the darkness. He would be fine. He would be fine, he would be fine, he would be fine-

Machinery whirred outside the trunk, and the trunk started dropping. His heart jumped into his throat. The sound of machinery and people faded and muffled, more and more until they were gone, and he was left alone with the sound of his erratic heartbeat.

Leonardo kicked as best he could, but he could barely move in his situation. He was going to die, he was going to die-

He had never feared death before. In fact, he usually welcomed it with open arms.

But this? This was an awful death. This was suffocating alone in the darkness after hyperventilating. If they let him fall far enough, he would be crushed by the water pressure like a soda can.

The trunk did not fall until the water killed him. It settled after a couple seconds of sinking, nestled on the seabed.

That was his chance. If he had any hope of getting out, it was as soon as the trunk had landed. Leonardo kicked and thrashed, trying to push the top open so that he could swim back up.

After a moment, he steadied himself, taking deep breaths. He needed to be calm, or he would run out of air. If he didn’t stop hyperventilating, then he would asphyxiate at that rate.

Maybe…

Yes, that might work. He would have to be fast, though, if he wanted it to work.

Leonardo took a deep breath, then kicked. Hard. The top didn’t budge, but Leonardo didn’t waver either, kicking over and over again until the top leaked. It started as a drip of water, cold and startling on his scales, but as he continued, it grew more and more, turning from a leak into a steady stream.

There was a shorter time limit, now. If he didn’t work fast, the trunk would eventually fill up. Sure, it would take a long time, slow and agonizing, but it would eventually.

Maybe he needed therapy for his overthinking.

That wasn’t the time to think about it, though. He refused to die there.

As he kicked over and over, the stream turned into multiple bursts, spraying him with dark, salty water. It might not have been too pleasant, but it was hope, and he was lacking in that at the moment.

Suddenly, the cover folded in on itself, giving in from its multiple weak points. He took his chance, wiggling out as soon as he could. He was free from the box, now he just needed to get away from the facility. Leonardo twisted and turned in the water, squinting, but seeing nothing in the dark water. Without a goal, he just started swimming in a circle, trying to go slow enough to not use up too much of his oxygen. As far as he looked, there was only the facility above him, blocking him from the open ocean, and he was sure that if he just went far enough, he would find some kind of wall.

Maybe if he tried the original exit, he would have some luck. They might have left him, although that was probably wishful thinking. Leonardo turned back to the singular source of light, the open hatch, and started moving towards that. He hovered below the surface for a second, of course. He was stupid, but not that stupid. Seeing no shadows from people and no movement, he deemed it safe and started moving up.

His mistake.

Somebody grabbed him by the back of his neck and heaved him out of the water, receiving a panicked gasp and a glare from Leonardo.

“There we are,” Came the familiar voice, crooning at him as if they had won. (They have, an unhelpful voice provided for him). “We knew you’d come back to the land of the living fairly quick, so we hovered around for a bit. We’ll have to try with strong containment next time.”

%%%

Leonardo shivered and took a breath. Day seven of solitary confinement, trapped under the water in a reinforced box with a tube for air.