Chapter 13

Other Info: Yes, chapter 12 is missing. That's because chapter 12 is almost entirely adult. Not to say no character development happens, but it's mixed into the lemon scenes so much that to remove them would be like ripping out your veins. Sure, you can do it, but you're taking out a lot with 'em. The story is available on my lj in its complete form (check my profile for the address).

Despite himself, Raphael drove "like an old man...or like Leo" in the rain. Night driving during a thunderstorm meant low visibility, slick roads, and dumb humans that might crash into them, and they couldn't exactly stand around waiting to file a police report.

Even without the rain, driving through New York was always a risky proposition. The van's windows were tinted illegally dark, but a stray light from a street lamp or a store front could give everyone on the street a glimpse inside. Rough weather just made it worse. A flash of lightning could prove treacherous.

At a red light, he glanced at Leonardo. Faint briuses lined his brother's throat and shoulders. He knew there were other marks at his wrists and elbows, his knees. His gear concealed most of that, with a hint of mottled blues and purples showing around the edges. Raphael smiled. His brother would be harder pressed to hide the bruises along his thighs.

He wasn't worried. They fought so often that no one would be surprised. Leonardo had left his own marks, after all, and perhaps the bigger issue would be that they hadn't worked each other over worse.

A little self-conscious, Raphael reached up to his shoulder, running his fingers over the raised scars. He hoped no one noticed them or realize what they spelled, but big brother had damn neat handwriting, even when he was carving into people. Raphael sighed and rested his hand on the wheel, waiting for the light.

"Don't worry about it," Leonardo murmured, shifting in his seat without opening his eyes. "It's not obvious unless you're looking for it."

"Thought you were asleep," Raphael said.

"Thought you could drive," Leonardo retorted.

"Better than you," Raphael said. "'Least I don't fall asleep behind the wheel."

"S'cause you hit every pothole and curb on the way."

Raphael smiled and didn't reply.

They drove up to the warehouse where Donatello kept his larger projects, and after remotely raising the door, Raphael carefully backed in, avoiding the pair of motorcycles on one side and the mess of bolts, shelving and tools on the other. Leonardo looked over his shoulder out the window, watching them roll in, and once they stopped, he climbed out and made sure the door was locked securely again.

"Think they're still awake?" Raphael asked softly.

Leonardo nodded once. "We've been gone a month. Of course they are. If only to make sure we didn't kill each other."

Raphael unlocked the rear door, which led to the staircase that slowly wound down to the main corridor that would take them home. The path back was a labyrinth, but it was necessary to make sure no one ever stumbled on their home.

In the dark tunnels underground, their footsteps didn't echo. Their training was too ingrained for such a slip up, even without thinking about it, but Raphael glanced at his brother and saw that he was as tense as he was.

"Geez," Raphael breathed. "Feels like we're walking into combat."

Leonardo didn't argue. "I guess...you know, we should talk about-you know, what we're gonna do."

Despite that they were about to walk into the lair under the scrutiny of three highly skilled ninjas who knew their every move and would instantly know that something was different, Raphael grinned. "I was waiting for you to say something like that. I gotta admit, I'm impressed you held back this long. I thought for sure you'd break halfway on the trip."

"I was asleep," Leonardo grumbled. "Anyway...how do we handle this?"

"We ain't telling 'em nothing."

"I know that," Leonardo said. "I mean...you know? I don't expect us to hold back until we're at the farm alone again. But we can't..."

Raphael's grin faded but didn't disappear. Trust Leonardo to talk in euphemisms. Probably a bad habit he picked up from reading all that Japanese literature haiku crap.

"We can keep it on the downlow," Raphael said, then huffed when Leonardo looked at him in disbelief. "I mean it. Hell, they're used to us sparring late into the night. We shared your futon a ton of times."

Leonardo didn't look convinced. Raphael leaned close and put his finger on his brother's forehead.

"You ain't got a sign on your face that says 'bro'lester'," Raphael said. "They won't tell just by looking at us."

"They will," Leonardo insisted. "They're not blind. Don looks up from his tools sometimes and even Mikey stops playing video games now and then. They'll see we're acting out of character and-"

"Hey," Raphael said sternly. "That's bullshit. We've just, I dunno, added one more piece to who we are."

Leonardo grabbed his hand and pulled it away. "I don't want to get caught."

"Neither do I," Raphael said. "It won't be hard to keep it quiet, okay? It's not like we're gonna stop arguing or fighting."

"True," Leonardo admitted, but with a sigh so sad that it made Raphael chuckle.

"It's just arguing," Raphael said. "You know I always got your back."

Leonardo smiled at that.

When they reached the lair, they crept in as quietly as they could, not sure if anyone really would be awake. The light from the tv's told them someone had to be, even though the screens were mute. Leonardo locked the door as Raphael went in, already shedding his mask and gear.

"You're back!"

Even the yell wasn't enough warning to save him from being hugged at high velocity by a flying Michelangelo. Raphael stumbled and fell backwards, landing on his shell as Michelangelo sat on top of him.

"Finally!" Michelangelo laughed. "Man, you guys were gone for ages! Don's been holed up in his lab forever and Splinter made me practice every day and-yes, I won't be the only one doing chores!"

"Good to see ya, too," Raphael groaned. "Now get offa me, lardbucket!"

"Awww, I missed you too!" Michelangelo said, hugging him again.

Leonardo smiled and walked by, ignoring Raphael's pleas to push their little brother off, heading into the kitchen to make tea. The routine of putting the kettle on to boil and taking out the loose tea leaves brought him home and centered him again.

"Welcome back," Donatello said from the doorway.

Leonardo nodded without looking, grabbing a second cup. "Thanks. You guys manage okay?"

"I managed to put out the fires in the oven, the playstation and behind the tvs," Donatello said, nodding when Leonardo gestured to the sugar. "Don't let Mikey con you into cleaning my lab. That's his punishment from me."

Leonardo smiled. "You trust him with your stuff?"

"He wouldn't dare drop anything," Donatello said. "I'm holding the playstation hostage."

"Aw man," Leonardo sighed. There went an hour or two of Hyper Zombie Revolution to ease some of his tension. "But are you okay?"

"Some sleep deprivation, nothing unusual," Donatello said. "You're the one with a lot bruises."

Leonardo heard the unspoken question. As he poured out the tea, he shook his head once.

"It's not what you think," he said. "We fought a couple times, that's it."

"Uh-huh." Donatello took a sip, glancing out the door. "If you say so. Just remember I'm here if you need to talk, okay."

"I know," Leonardo said after a pause. "I might take you up on that later."

Don put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Just...for the future, be careful how much rope you give Raph. I wouldn't be surprised if he found a way to hang both of you with it."

Leonardo watched him walk out, his stomach twisting into knots. The bruises. He read the bruising. Don knows, he thought. Of course he knows. He's a genius.

But what if he was just being paranoid, and Donatello didn't actually know? Leonardo sighed and went out, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, and watched Raphael wrestling with Michelangelo. He was too tired to go back to sleep, and he was too sore to want to move. At least the hot tea felt good inside, settling his whole body.

"Okay, runt," Raphael said, shoving Michelangelo backward. "I gotta shower before I get to bed."

"Spoilsport," Michelangelo said, performing a backflip and coming up on his feet. "Okay, but I'm waking you up extra early!"

"You do and I'll throw you out," Raphael promised as he headed to the bathroom. "Spent a long night driving. I'm sleeping in tomorrow."

"Suuuure you are," Michelangelo said, stretching his own tired muscles as he watched Raphael disappear. With a yawn, he turned and set his sights on his older brother.

"Try anything and you'll be doing my chores for a week," Leonardo warned him.

"Peace, peace," Michelangelo said, coming over and sitting down on the chair's arm. "I've learned never to attack someone holding hot tea."

"Tempting," Leonardo admitted, letting Michelangelo lean on him. "But I wouldn't."

"Of course you wouldn't!" Michelangelo smiled. "You wouldn't hurt someone this cute."

Jostling his brother for room on the chair, Leonardo set the cup on the table in front of him and pushed sideways hard. Michelangelo landed on the floor, then came back up on his knees and rested his head on the armchair, looking up at Leonardo with an angelic smile.

"Besides, Michelangelo whispered. "You're the one in hot water."

Leonardo gave him a look. "What?"

Deliberately, Michelangelo looked from him to Raphael's bedroom and back again. And then he winked.

The bottom dropped out of Leonardo's heart. The threat of Donatello knowing was nothing against Michelangelo's certainty.

"You said you two were gonna make with talking and acting civilized, but instead..." Michelangelo nodded at his bruises. "You were fighting the whole time, weren't you? Splinter's gonna be pissed."

Not knowing what to think, Leonardo grabbed the tea and took another drink, burning his throat but ignoring it.

"How much you wanna bet Splinter gives you all my extra chores on top of what you always get for fighting?" Michelangelo grinned.

Leonardo took a breath. No. Mikey didn't know. Mikey didn't know. Relax. Relax. Unless his little brother was being devious-no. Quit acting so paranoid, he told himself. Sure, be paranoid, just don't act like it.

"What do you want to bet?" Leonardo asked.

Michelangelo narrowed his eyes. "A week of putting away all the gear after practice."

"Don't do it, Mikey," Raphael called, poking his head out from the bathroom door. "He's setting ya up."

"Huh?" Michelangelo looked from Raphael to Leonardo, who had shot a glare at their sibling. "You didn't fight?"

"Sure we fought," Raphael said with a half smile. "In the barn. And then we meditated. Watched tv. Saw some fireflies. Spent some time in the woods."

"No way," Michelangelo laughed. "He got you to go on a nature walk?"

"And I got him drunk," Raphael with a growing smirk, daring Leonardo to contradict him.

"Raph..." Leonardo said in a low voice.

"Hey, you're the one trying to pile up more work on my best buddy there," Raphael said, and he shook the towel at him in warning. "Pick on someone your own size."

"Name the place and time," Leonardo said.

"Later," Raphael said, closing the door. "Definitely later."

His voice carried promise-a dangerous promise, flaunted right there in the open. Leonardo found his mind conjuring up memories and imagining new possibilities, and he had to force his mind back to the present. To his relief, his little brother was momentarily absorbed in his near miss of having to do almost all the work around the lair.

"Not fighting," Michelangelo said, flopping back on the couch. "Geez. Who'da thunk?"

Leonardo smiled and settled deeper into the comforter. After that sudden adrenalin spike, it would take him a little while longer to relax enough to sleep.

"Almost got you," he said softly.

"Yeah, yeah," Michelangelo said, waving him off. "Next time, I won't go so easy on ya."

Leonardo laughed, earning him a dirty look from his little brother. He'd been talking to himself. With a small motion, he idly touched the deep bruises on his wrist.

This altered relationship with his brother was insane. He was more nervous than during their first street fight, second guessing Raphael more than during their hottest fights, and jumpy around his own siblings. He guessed it would only be worse around Splinter and he would have to think up a plausible excuse for his nerves. And the sneaking behind the family's back, the double talk, arranging time alone with Raphael in a crowded home and then enduring being right next to him, skin to skin during practice, without risking so much as the slightest slip-

As usual, Raphael kept causing one headache after another for him. A fine tightrope to walk, one that zigzagged and turned and had him absolutely twisting around trying to keep up.

And if he ended up twisting himself in knots, that was fine. Raphael had a way of unraveling him again. Tomorrow...he smiled to consider it. Tomorrow maybe he could get Raphael to Central Park to watch the fireflies.

end