Yep. This is the last chapter of TCSE, which is probably only a big deal for me. This was my first multichapter fanfic, and it's a little bit strange posting the end. I really hope you guys have enjoyed it. And serious, major thanks to everyone who left reviews. Means a lot to me. I know I suck at responding to them, but believe me, I do read them and adore you all for leaving them.
Quick note: I refer to two people in Raph's life in this one; David Merriweather, the original Nightwatcher, from the TMNT movie prequel comics...and Mrs. Morrison, from the 2003 cartoon series episode "Touch and Go".

Also, the titles in bold are lyrics from the song "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard. Listen to it. It's gorgeous.

Also also. Head's up. This one earns the Mature rating. It's not vulgar, but it leaves little to the imagination.

The Cautious Seldom Err

Part 8

Timshel – part 2

"…I feel that I am a man. And I feel that a man is a very important thing—maybe more important than a star. This is not theology. I have no bent toward gods. But I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed— because 'Thou mayest.'" – John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Leonardo

The first thing my eyes met with when they slit open was the painfully bright light of the sun. I winced and blinked them a few times until my pupils adjusted and focused on the canopy of trees overhead. It took a few groggy seconds for me to realize I was no longer in the temple but lying outside of my 'base' near the little spring where I collected water. I pushed myself up on my elbows and held my head which was still buzzing, but as I did so I noticed a barely perceptible shifting of weight on my plastron. I looked down and noticed just then the strange glow of warmth where the blue medallion hung beside the red.

So it hadn't been a dream? Every scratch and scrape I had acquired during my trials was gone, but there was the medallion. I had succeeded.

And Prince Taanil…? Had he…?

My eyes flashed open. There was no time for speculation. If I was here, that meant I had little time to get back to the village and heal Sancho – if it wasn't already too late.

I was on my feet in a half a second, flying over moss and brush, dodging limbs and logs as best I could. Nothing was in my way – it was all a blur. All that mattered was that point in the distance where the black smoke was rising.

The closer I got to it, the more I could hear. The sounds of guns, women screaming. I pushed myself more than I ever had before, stretching every tendon in my legs. I ran until my body went into autopilot and my brain could only concentrate on the task of getting there until I finally crashed through the brush.

The huts that had been spared were being looted. Men were pointing sniper rifles at a group of people huddled in front of the church. One was dragging a woman into the jungle by her hair. It was them I targeted first.

A well-placed kick sent him sprawling, and a few swift blows with the blunt handle of my blade knocked him out for good. I ignored the blood and spittle his loosened teeth has splattered onto my arm and gently hoisted the woman to her feet.

"…Gracias," she said bemusedly as she searched my face. I tried to smile reassuringly and nodded, pointing to the church. She spoke to me swiftly in Spanish, but all I caught were the words "soldiers" and "boy". That was enough for me.

My entrance had gone unnoticed by the soldiers in front of the church through all of the noise and confusion. It was an advantage I pressed, taking the opportunity to back flip into the circle of them, putting myself between them and the villagers.

"Inside the church!" I yelled over my shoulder. I doubted any of them spoke English, but my meaning was clear enough. "No matter what happens, I WILL protect you!" They pulled open the huge door and fled inside as I used my katana to deflect a few bullets fired at me. I did this until I was sure they were all safe, then lowered my blade and looked at the soldiers with narrowed eyes. The medallion at my throat began to glow.

"This village," I said, but out loud another voice layered over my words – my own voice speaking Spanish – hollow and echoing, "is under my protection."

Their eyes lit with understanding, then slanted in anger. They all raised their guns and I crouched. A bead of sweat slid down my forehead and stopped, suspended, on my cheek. No one moved.

It fell into the dust.

Bullets came at me from all directions. I heard screaming from the church. I launched myself into the air and let them all whiz past, swinging my katanas to deflect the errant ones. I roared, charging the soldier closest to me and beating him back against a tree until he slid down the trunk, unconscious. I used my left katana to unsling the gun from another approaching soldier and swung it around to hit another's knees. He buckled, and tripped the guy behind him.

One let out an angry shout and aimed at me. I watched the little red laser dot dance across my plastron and glared at him. In the nanosecond between his squeezing of the trigger and the release of the bullet, I threw a kunai at him that lodged right into the thin barrel of his gun; It exploded in his hands. My swords flashed in the light of the hut fires and the sun streaming down through the trees. Smoke choked my lungs. More bullets were shot – from there it became a blur.

When it was over, there was a pile of bodies at my feet and none of them moved. I think I killed more than one of them. I wasn't entirely sure.

As I stood there panting, I heard murmuring coming from the church. I wiped my forehead with my wrist and looked up, shielding my eyes. The woman I rescued at first leaned out of the window.

"Viva!" she cried. "Viva the Ghost of the Jungle!"

A chorus of others joined her, leaning out of the windows and calling to me. "Viva the Ghost of the Jungle! Viva the Ghost of the Jungle!"

I froze. Never had I heard this alien sound – people cheering for the deeds I had done.

Rosemaria appeared in front of them all looking tired and worn but with her lips pressed in a thin, relieved smile. I searched her eyes for a moment, then grabbed the church wall and started to climb.

Games that Never Amount

Raphael has a near picture-perfect memory. His brothers used to joke about it and test him by playing a game they called Memory, where they would arrange objects on a tray to be presented to Raph for thirty seconds only. Then it would be removed, he would wait another thirty seconds, and would then recite the contents of the tray to a point of uncanny exactitude. It got to the point where Mikey would start to switch up the objects just to laugh and say "Nope! Wrong again!" to which Raph would reply that the teapot Mikey had switched the old book out for had previously been sitting on the table next to them.

It came in handy later on, when they would be surveying the bodies around them after a fight and Raph would notice one missing. "Heads up, we've got a runner," he would murmur, and they would have no problem dispatching the attacker when he jumped them from the shadows.

The night that he and Leo had spent together, for Raph, was hazy at best.

It was always difficult for him to lift the blinders his emotions put on his surroundings. It was like viewing the world through different colored shades, except that his didn't block UV rays – they distorted reality. That night was colored in a wide spectrum – purple for peace, yellow for surprise, red for passion and fury.

It didn't happen as most of their normal confrontations did, in the dojo. It actually began on the roof. Leonardo had taken him out on patrol that night, given that Donnie had a headache and Mikey was a better nurse than Raph could ever be. He always had another reason, however: getting Raph alone. The things they said only carried real meaning for better or for worse than when their brothers were around to filter them. It was both a curse and a reward, and which one it was often depended on how the day had gone. That day had been a fairly uneventful one, so Leonardo anticipated the patrol to reflect that.

Raph had other ideas. "Why're we in this same neighborhood, Leo? It's fine. No new gangs, no new drug busts, no Foot. It's dead right now."

Leonardo rubbed his face. "Because, Raph, this is where we always patrol."

"I know that," his brother snapped back, whirling a sai in irritation. "That's the point. This place is safe right now, Leo. Let's go east where we can really do some good. I heard that Big Man Taylor's gotta new pad down on Lispenard and Church, so if we-"

"We, in case you've forgotten, little brother, do not go looking for trouble. We simply keep our home and our neighborhood safe. No more."

Blood obviously beginning to simmer now, Raph shot a glare at him. "That's it, huh? That's all we gotta do? Just sit around with our skills and our abilities and keep our noses clean? There're people dying everywhere in this city, Leo. Don't you wanna save at least one of their lives?"

"Yeah," Leonardo snapped, stepping closer to his brother. "Yours."

Raphael's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on his sai. Leonardo glared right back.

"Don't even think it, Raphael. I will beat you."

He could almost see his brother's face heat. "I swear to God, Leo, some day…" They both let the threat hang. Leonardo feigned indifference, but Raph, who knew every look his older brother gave, saw the twinge of regret. He opened his mouth to gloat.

The brick came out of nowhere and caught Raphael on the cheek. His head snapped right and he flew to the side, hit the ground and spat blood. Leonardo's swords were in his hands in an instant. He whirled, dodging another brick.

There were three of them, pierced and dyed Purple Dragons with their ripped clothing and rough looks. One of them, a kid in his late teens, tossed another brick menacingly up and down.

"Payback's a bitch, ain't it, freaks?" The middle one, a thin olive-skinned man in a black coat, hissed. "Thought we'd pay ya a visit and say hi."

"Leo-" Raph grunted. Leo stepped backwards to defend his brother while Raph stood, wiping at his bloody mouth with his wrist.

"Raph, who are these guys? What do they mean?"

"Buncha punks. Beat 'em good last week for trying to rob this old lady-"

There was no time for the lecture. They stood back to back, Leo's grip firm, Raph's a little looser through his woozy vision.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed under his breath. "Leo, I can barely see-"

Fear shivered through Leo's body. "Just stick close to me."

I'll protect you.

"Whatcha waiting on? We ain't got all day!" The three Dragons laughed and through it Leonardo heard a distinct and terrifying click.

GUNS.

His mind went through options in a nanosecond, weighing the outcomes, his strength, his ability to help his brother but they had guns.

"Raph," he murmured. "When I say 'go', turn and run straight a few feet, and then left. When you feel the wall, go down the fire escape. The manhole is right below it."

"Leo-"

"Just do it, dammit!"

No further arguments were forthcoming. Raph let his breath out slowly.

"One."

"Y'aint gonna fight us? Well, that don't matter much. Still gonna pummel-"

"Two."

"-You. Kyle, show 'em what we do to those what mess with da Purple Dragons!"

"Three!" The third brick flew and Leo ducked as Raph took off running. Shots fired and Leonardo called on all his skills, deflecting them with his blades. Those that went over his shoulder he didn't think about. Raph was okay. He was.

They exhausted their rounds and fumbled in their coats for more ammo. Leo saw his chance and bolted, catching up to Raph and shielding him on the way down the fire escape. They heard the gang shouting, cussing, and the thunder of their footsteps as they pounded across the rooftop.

"Go! Go go!" he urged, guiding Raph's hands to the manhole ledge as he pushed the cover off. They had slid inside and he was replacing the lid right as a few more bullets ricocheted off of it.

They sat in the dark, panting, for a moment. "Well," Raph said between breaths. "That was magical."

Leo clenched his fists. "This is exactly why we patrol our own area! I can't believe you went looking for trouble!"

He could feel the air grow denser. "I wasn't looking for nothin'. Went up for air n' saw it happen, that's all."

"They had GUNS, Raph! What if you'd been shot? What if they had managed to-"

"Well, what if, Leo?! What if you'd leave me alone now and then? Wouldn't that solve a lot of your 'what-if' issues?!"

They stared at each other in the dim black sewer, Leo's eyes glittering and Raph's fever-bright. He coughed and flung out a hand to keep his balance. Leo's anger deflated.

"C'mon." He wrapped an arm over Raph's shoulder.

"M'okay, don't needya ta-"

"Shut up. Just walk."

The walk back to the Lair was slow. Raph kept swerving and stumbling, but by the time they'd made it back he'd regained some of his equilibrium. They got him up the ladder to his room with slow, deliberate movements, Leo supporting him from behind. He lowered Raph down on to the unused mattress in the corner, untying his mask for him while Raph removed his pads.

"Thanks, mom," he grunted, watching as Leonardo lit a new candle and placed it on his dresser. Leonardo rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Want me to get Donnie? He should take a look at-"

"Nah. Feel better now. Just need to rest."

"What if you have a concussion? You could-"

"Leo."

Leonardo quieted. "Promise if it gets worse, you'll let me call Donnie."

Raph nodded his consent. They sat in companionable silence, Leonardo reluctant to leave for some reason. He threaded his fingers together and quirked a smile.

"Remember…remember the last time we played ninja hide-and-seek with Donnie and Mikey?" The snort from Raph he took to be affirmation. "Donnie was so proud of his heat sensor machine."

"Fuckin' cheater's what he was."

"Mikey didn't complain."

"Wouldn't, being with Donnie."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothin'."

"You kissed me."

That sentence stopped Raph's breath. They didn't look at each other as his throat worked and he said, "…yeah."

"Why?"

Raph was fidgeting now. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

At the time. Leonardo looked at the floor, counting bricks. He couldn't organize his thoughts well enough to get out a sentence he approved of, one that really conveyed what he wanted to say.

"Why? Y'want me to do it again?"

Leo looked up, startled, but said nothing to the contrary.

The candlelight made Raph's eyes even more dangerous than before. Leo had seen Raph in candlelight hundreds of times since they were kids, fighting in the dojo, meditating by his side, but never like this. Never so…so feral.

The touch on his cheek was burning hot. Leonardo couldn't help it; he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. "Raph, you…you're hurt-"

"Shh. Stop thinking. If you keep thinking, you'll ruin everything."

Leo's eyes slowly slid open, dreamlike. "Ruin…?"

Raph smirked, a mixed pleasure in his gut of seeing Leo be so endearingly flustered and the knowledge that it was he, Raphael, who was achieving that effect. "Yeah."

He bent forward and their mouths met, soft at first. Little flickers of heat sparked up and down Leonardo's body, firing nerves that made him twitch. His eyelids were so heavy; he felt drunk. Something was…there was something he should…but Raph slid a thumb along his jaw line and Leonardo, Leader, could only be obedient. He opened his mouth to Raph's questing tongue. Raph's pleasure at this vibrated low in his throat, an unfamiliar sound that affected Leo deeply. He whimpered and wrapped his arms around Raph's neck, suddenly insistent. He was dizzy – didn't have enough air – didn't want it anymore. A rough, callused hand slid its way down his arm, teasing the hollow of his elbow. They parted with a gasp.

Raphael wasted no time. He gently brought Leonardo's arm to his mouth, kissing and teasing at the tender flesh all the way to his wrist. They sat that way- Raph running his parted lips and hot breath teasingly over the quickening pulse at Leonardo's wrist, Leonardo with his head dropped back, fighting to control his breathing. It sent heat straight to his groin and he groaned.

"This isn't…Raph, we shouldn't…"

"What did I say…about thinking…" Raph murmured against his skin, and he shook to his core. God, Raph's voice!

Then, sensing Leonardo's hesitation, Raph flicked his gaze up to look at him. Leonardo saw him through his hooded eyes, saw Raph looking suddenly unsure, and even almost shy. That open, pleading look sent all of his misgivings into a corner. He could give this to Raph. Maybe it would help. Likely it was the worst idea they'd ever had and would bring them to ruins, but right now…right now, he could do this and it would make his precious little brother happy.

"Do it…" he said, nearly inaudible. It was exhaled as a breath. "Go ahead and do it, if you like. I won't tell, I swear."

He looked hurt, then. Quickly, to amend it, Leonardo brought his brother to him and pressed him against his plastron. They allowed a moment for their hearts to calm and as he ran a hand soothingly up and down his shell, he knew Raph understood that yes – yes, he wanted this, too.

Raphael had already found this out by sliding a slow hand down Leo's sides, tickling the sensitive day-hidden flesh there, and across his thigh to dip between his legs. Leo's back snapped as he arched, gasping with wide eyes. "G-…Raph!"

"Ssshhh…hush, big brother. They'll hear us."

There was something powerful about that sentence to Leo. He tried so hard to focus on it as Raph's finger trailed a line up his length. Was it the command in his tone? The -ah - the admittance of their mutual sin in the fact that it had to be secret, or was it…was it…he hissed and his hips lifted without his permission. No. It was the way he said "big brother", in that calm, perfectly accepting way that he hadn't had since they were little. When Raph had shadowed Leonardo in everything he'd done, listened to everything he'd ever said. Back when they were happy and there was nothing in the world that could come between them.

The first touch of Raphael's tongue jolted Leonardo out of his thought process. He looked down, face flushed and eyelids drooping. This…Raph on his knees in front of him, it was so completely wrong…He reached his fingers out and touched Raph's head gently.

And difficult, angry Raphael's eyes then were smug…but differently from before. Leo could practically hear what he was thinking - I know you're enjoying this. It suits us.

And he was mouthing it silently without realizing it – "I love you."

There was a pause; Raphael froze. Then Leonardo found himself lifted off the floor a few inches, pressed against a bruising mouth. He kissed back with all the power he had.

This ain't real, Raphael thought. There ain't no way this can be real.

But Leonardo was in his arms and – yes, moaning against his mouth. It didn't matter what the repercussions of this might be; at that moment, and that moment only, Raphael was only desperately thankful. He wanted to prostrate himself at the feet of whatever god had made this an actuality; he settled for burying his face in Leonardo's neck and sucking at his jugular.

"Raph!"

"Hmmn…"

Leonardo found himself then. His graceful hands slid down Raph's front, finding what they sought without effort. He touched his brother, watched in hazy fascination as Raph's mouth parted silently and his face froze. He let his hand linger, then slid gently up and down, fluid movements like kata.

"Huh – uh…"

"Quiet…"

Leonardo pulled Raph's face forward to kiss him, silencing his gruff pants. He lost himself in that movement, one hand on the back of his brother's neck and the other working smoothly down below. They stood like that for a moment only, before Raph gained his senses and took control again. Leo found himself against the wall, gazing darkly into Raph's heated eyes. They were pressed so close together that their legs entangled. Leo's shook as he slid against Raph's thigh.

"Raph, I…" he didn't know what he meant to say. The words tumbled out feebly.

"What? You what?"

"I…Is this what you want, Raph?"

Raph stared at him seriously. "You. I've…always…"

"So wrong…"

"Are you really sayin' that?"

Leo's eyes narrowed. "…You're wasting time."

There was challenge in that. Raph smiled cockily. "F'you say so."

He ground himself up against Leonardo and neither one of them could speak even if they'd wanted. He let his breath out, panting, growling. It made Leonardo spasm, so he continued doing it. Leo's hands gripped his at the wrist, forced them down. He would have been indignant if it hadn't…if he didn't want…

He wrapped his hands around his brother and jerked – hard.

Leo yowled like a cat, head flying back to hit against the wall. He winced, but only let his head fall to the side as he flushed even darker. Raph moved his hand up to cushion the space between Leo and the bricks, as it appeared to him that Leo had less control over his body than he'd previously let on. He settled instead for using his own body, grinding roughly against his brother, heat to heat.

Leonardo shivered, breathed erratically, and when his back began to arch, Raph stopped. Leo's eyes parted, dazed.

"Don't you dare-"

"Not here. Get on the bed."

That sentence hung there for a pause, before Leonardo complied. "I don't know…I mean, you'll have to…"

Raphael couldn't help the swallow his throat worked around. "Just…just lay there. I won't…won't hurtcha or nothin'."

Leo smiled at him. "I know."

And then Raph was on top of him, thrusting against him in all kinds of wonderful ways, and Leonardo didn't know anything anymore. He couldn't tell which fingers were his, which of them was murmuring those monosyllabic words, which of them was gasping. He felt himself connected with Raph at the basest level, shivering, trembling, loving, hating, pressed and unintelligible. He asked for more – harder- and Raph obliged and fuck, this wasn't what Raph had planned or imagined, but he was kissing his brother and the smell of patchouli on his skin was only feeding the flame – the knowledge that it was Leonardo underneath him, out of control, and he was wildly returning everything Leo gave and gladly. That he held some kind of power over him, power to strip him down to this and that he could, and would, hold it as gently as possible in his shaking, battle-worn fingers.

And for Leonardo, whose mind was ten thousand leagues away, all he could deal in were sensations. The feeling of Raph's rigid heat inside of him, his own pressed against his brother so tight it nearly burned, and it all swept through him as fire and white-hot light, flaring up and engulfing him until all he could think was Oh, God, and he was on the absolute fulcrum and bursting with it when Raphael ground out his name helplessly and came hot and hard inside of him. The sound of Raph's raspy voice drove him doubly hard until he lost himself somewhere entirely. He locked up, cried out wordlessly, and trembled in violent release.

The words on his lips weren't important – the essence of it all was just Raphael…Raphael… just like it always had been.

In the middle of the night, Raphael pillowed on his shoulder, he senses slammed back into him with unforgiving force.

His brothers would find out. Their sensei would find out. He would favor Raphael in battle, they would fight even more now, they would endanger their brothers with their loss of focus. Something would go wrong. Something had gone wrong earlier and that had led to this whole mess. Raph still had the bruises to prove it, and damned if he wouldn't have more come daylight.

So he untangled himself from his little brother's arms and went to slip quietly away.

"…Figured you'd try that sooner or later."

He sighed, turned to look at Raphael with abject pain in his eyes. "Raph, we…this ins't right."

Raph slowly…very slowly…sat up in bed and looked at him. He couldn't move.

That night, Leonardo saw something he had never seen before. He saw Raphael, staring at him, tears sliding unchecked down his cheeks. Just…staring at him, as if Raph himself didn't even realize he was crying. His eyes were serious, golden, almost expressionless. As he waited for Leo to make a move, the tears continued to wind their slow course down his face and the skin of his neck. Horrified, Leo turned away.

He put on music to calm his mind, but he could still hear the muffled sounds at the break of dawn.

Two days later he was on a plane headed for Central America and a training mission he didn't actually plan to return from – ever.

Because he was a coward.

To More Than They're Meant

Leonardo

Sancho's breathing was irregular and his whole body was covered in misty sweat. I knelt beside him and picked up one of his wrists, timing his pulse. It was very, very slow. He twitched and turned his head at my touch.

"Hey, Sancho," I murmured gently. His eyes cracked open and I smiled as reassuringly as I could.

"Senor…you lived." His thin voice seemed to come from nowhere, his lips never moving.

"Sure did…and so are you."

I could feel the many eyes of the rest of the villagers as they watched me work. Some in awe, some in fear, a few with curiosity. I had been conscious of their stares before, having been unused to the scrutiny of humans; now I didn't pay them any mind. I had a job to do. Part of me wanted to seek out Rosemaria, that strange jungle-wise woman who seemed to know more about my purpose here than I did but after the trials I was sure of it: I knew what to do on my own.

He closed his eyes, as if trusting me and giving me permission to do whatever I wanted to his frail body. I, without really knowing what I was doing, hovered my hands over his chest.

Feeling silly on some base level, I licked my cracked lips. "You…uh, you might want to stand back."

Rosemaria translated my request for me, and the villagers shuffled backwards to give me space. At that point, I focused my concentration inward and let all of the background noise become a din –

A faint blue glow grew within the medallion and spread as I concentrated. I could see thin, bright threads of blue snake their way down my arms. I should have been concerned, but wasn't. This felt…warm, correct. This wasn't anything new – this was my own energy, manifested.

I settled my hands on Sancho's chest and closed my eyes, focusing only on my task and letting the medallion do the rest. When the light grew so bright I thought something might burst into flames or shatter, I felt his chest stop and grow still.

A second went by. Two seconds. Three.

On the third, Sancho sucked in a huge gasp of air and his eyes flew open. He coughed and sat up, trying desperately to clear his lungs. I grinned widely in relief and patted him on the back as he choked. When the fit passed, he looked at me with thin, watering eyes.

"…Thank you…Senor."

My smile warmed considerably. "Don't mention it."

Rosemaria fell to her knees beside me, hugging her son to her chest in a powerful hug. "Mi amor!" she cried, tears falling freely into her son's hair. He grinned and hugged her back.

I stood from my knees and took a look at the villagers. Their eyes were full of disbelief, but not one of them looked scared anymore.

"It's a miracle…" one of the elder ladies said. I furrowed my brow, realizing that I could understand her.

"He has done it! We are saved!"

"They are gone!"

"Viva! Viva El Fantasma de la Selva! Viva the Ghost of the Jungle!" Then they all took up this cry, once more, in unison. "Viva the Ghost of the Jungle! Viva the Ghost of the Jungle!"

"No matter what happens," I said again but this time loudly, confidently. "I will protect you!"

I stood there smiling, looking over each and every one of their unfamiliar, relieved faces and for once in my mistake-ridden life, felt like I'd done something good.

Will Play Themselves Out

When Leonardo walked out on Raphael and Michelangelo could hear his brother crying through the walls, he was still ignorant of all that had come before that point. He did what came naturally, when he had always done, and went to Donatello's room.

Donatello was seated quietly at his computer, staring blankly as numbers and figures scrolled by. Mikey rapped quietly on the door but his brother didn't look up, so he situated himself on the floor by his feet.

"Leo'n Raph are fighting," he said, picking at something on the ground.

"What else is new." Donnie never took his eyes off the screen. They sat that way for a stretch of a few minutes. Mikey sighed and stood to leave.

"Wait, Mikey, sorry," Donnie amended, swiveling his chair around and looking at him with tired eyes. "I'm just used to it now, ever since sensei told Leo he was going off to train. Aren't you?"

Mikey looked up at him, noting the very beginning of circles under his eyes. "This is different."

"How so?"

"Raph was crying."

There was a pause of silence. Donatello opened his mouth then closed it, choosing his words. "I guess…they finally figured it out."

Mikey's brow furrowed. "Figured what out?"

"Oh, Mikey. Don't tell me you hadn't noticed."

"Oh. That."

They were quiet again. Finally, Mikey spoke, but hesitantly. "I think…I mean, I don't blame him. It doesn't…bother me at all, I guess. We're all we've got, right?" He turned his eyes up to Donnie, who was struck as he was on occasion by how full and serious his baby brother could be. He grasped so much more than they gave him credit for; Donatello knew that now was not the time to hedge. They couldn't, and didn't need to protect him so much anymore.

"You're absolutely correct, Michelangelo," he said quietly, placing his hands on his thighs and returning his steady gaze.

Something clicked in Michelangelo's mind then. "Donnie?"

"It doesn't bother me, either. We are all we have."

Michelangelo, while not the technical left-brained genius like his brother, didn't need things spelled out in small words. He dealt in feelings, and what he saw then in Donnie's eyes –that didn't require explanation. He saw dinosaurs, video games, nights spent in Donnie's bed when his older brothers were fighting outside. He remembered playing with his action figures as a kid beside Donnie's desk while he read – the only brother who tolerated him at all times, gently and patiently. Even their father didn't know how to handle Mikey like the second-oldest son. Donatello had figured out at a young age that all Mikey needed was something to keep his hands busy and someone to occupy his mind. Donatello had understood, and now, so did Michelangelo. He smiled warmly up at Donnie, aged nearly five years in as many seconds. He stood and embraced his brother, tucking Donnie's head into his shoulder, their roles reversed. Donnie accepted this, holding Mike's sides with shaking hands. Outside, the Lair had grown silent.

"It'll be okay, Donnie."

And when he heard it come from Mikey, Donnie actually believed. And he held on to that for the next year; but as the months crawled on, even with this new and - in his mind- improbably beautiful change, he found it harder and harder to remember what it felt like to hope.

You Have Suffered Enough

April

"Here, please," the old lady behind the market cart said pleasantly and crinkled her weathered eyes at me in a smile as she handed me the little packet of beans I'd just purchased from her. I smiled and nodded back, accepting the bag and placing a few coins – more than the beans cost, I'm sure, into her hand. She looked surprised and tried to hand them back to me, but I shook my head.

"Keep it, please, I won't need much money anymore," I said, swinging my backpack around in front of me to zip the bag inside next to the others. She watched me with interest, lifting her eyebrows at the zillion different pieces of fruit and bags of nuts I had crammed in there.

"Where you go?" She asked in cracked, jilted English.

I didn't look up from trying to jam this bag down enough to zip the pack back up. "Into the Jungle. I'm collecting statues for a rich man in New York City."

"The jungle is very dangerous place. But you a pretty girl, Ghost of the Jungle watch over you," she said, nodding to herself slowly.

This time I looked up. "The…Ghost of the Jungle?"

Her eyes glinted, as if she'd been waiting to tell somebody this particular story and was thrilled that I'd asked. Which I had, because the name was interesting, but I didn't know if I cared enough to sit around wasting time listening to some-

"The Ghost of the Jungle is strange creature. He watch over our village where I live in jungle, protect our women and children…men, too, in fields. He is lizard man, maybe, green all over with three fingers, two toes. He wear a cloak wherever he go to blend in with shadows. He come, save people, disappear just as fast. Very mysterious. Very lucky."

Scratch that. I was suddenly very interested in what the old woman had to say. "He…where did you say you lived again?"

The car ride to the village was in an old, dusty Jeep driven by the market lady's son. She'd insisted that he drive me if I was determined to go to the village, which I was. "Ghost may be nice, but he not quick as jaguars," she'd said sagely, and I wasn't about to argue.

"So," I yelled over the bumping and crunching of the tires over the terrain. "How far are we going?"

He grinned toothily at me, and I took that to mean that he had no idea what I was saying. "Um…la…la aldea? Esta…"

"La aldea está en la selva, quizá veinte millas de aquí. No lejos. Goce la vista."

"Uh…gracias."

So I did. I sat back and enjoyed the view, wondering how in the hell he had managed to stay out here for two years alone.

The village was unimpressive. I mean, I don't know what I'd been expecting, but it was only a couple of sad looking huts in a cluster. The most impressive thing was a pretty big church at the end of the row. I rubbed my hip, sore from banging against the door handle as we'd made the trip, and dug in my pockets for some money.

I handed what I had to the driver who smiled and shook his head, declining it. " El fantasma hizo favores para nosotros. Ahora, he hecho una favor para el fantasma."

I caught most of it, but smiled anyway and nodded. He pointed a finger down the road and to himself, indicating that he was going to the village's one trading post and that was where I would find him later. I nodded once more and set out to find someone – anyone- who spoke just a little bit of English, or at least slow, simple Spanish.

I was so intent on what I was doing, I didn't realize I'd practically steamrolled a little kid playing in the street. Tripping and catching myself, I managed not to completely fall on my butt in the dust, but it still wasn't graceful. The little boy ducked and laughed.

"Hola,uh…"

His grin widened. "I speak some English, if that will help."

Okay. Well. That caught me kinda off-guard. "Oh. Um. Yeah, actually, it does. My name is April. What's yours?"

He rubbed his hand against his pants to clean the orange dust off and presented it to me. I laughed and bent to shake it. "Sancho."

"Hi, Sancho. Listen…um…this is going to sound kind of crazy, but have you heard any kind of…I don't know, legends or stories or something about a Ghost?"

His big smile, if it were even humanly possible, got bigger. "Sure! I know the Ghost. Are you looking for him?"

Man. Luck was certainly being a lady tonight. "Yes. Yes I am."

"He lives in the Jungle. He was here this morning."

As recently as that? I was surprised. "Where did you see him last?"

He pointed up to a tree standing near the ferns where the village ended and the jungle began. "There. That's where I saw him."

I peered into the tree, gauging. Light was fading, and I would have to be quick. "Thank you. You'd better get home now."

Sancho looked at me, curious. "Do you know the Ghost?"

Part of me kind of…slumped, I guess, at that. I turned and gave him a small smile. "He wasn't always a ghost."

Talking to Leo was surreal at best. He'd changed a lot, and you could tell it'd been a while since he'd spoken to someone he really knew. It was kind of like talking to someone who'd had a stroke – who was remembering the right mannerisms, their own personal way of speaking. That, or a ten story brick wall.

He wasn't coming home. I'd done all that I could do, and he wasn't coming home. I left Donnie's business card on the rock I'd been sitting on inside the cave, and exited more gracefully than I'd come.

I'd missed him, of course I had, and seeing him again was wonderful and strange. But to have that and know that it might not happen again for a long- for a very long time was…

As I walked back towards the village my eyes started to sting, mostly when I realized: I had to tell the boys.

Raphael

"Don't you ever get sick of tea, Mz. M?" I asked jokingly, fishing the last few bags of Darjeeling from the cupboard. Mz. M was taller than me by an inch or so, but I had better dexterity when it came to finding things.

She laughed that nice, homey old lady laugh. "Don't be silly, Raphael. Tea is very good for you. Lots of herbal benefits, and it won't keep me awake at night." I chuckled at that. She'd since found out that I wasn't too hot on tea, but loved a cup of black coffee. She detested the stuff, but kept it around just for when I would visit.

"One lump or two?"

"Oh, just one today. I don't need the extra sugar."

I stirred the sugar in with a smile and put it on the old table in front of her, handle first. "There ya go, Mz. M. Just like ya like it."

"Thank you, Raphael." She picked it up and took a cautious sip. "My, you certainly have gotten the hang of this. You're such a dear, thoughtful young man."

I quirked a grin. "Yeah…tell that to my brothers."

"Oh?"

Plunking down in the seat across from her, I blew off the wisp of steam from my cup of coffee. "Yeah. They think I'm hotheaded and selfish."

She smiled in a way that kinda reminded me of Jackie Kennedy on tv. "And are you?"

"Uh. I guess. Well…I can be. Hotheaded, yeah, but I think my older brother and I have different definitions of 'selfish'".

I liked the way she laughed. I think that was a lot of why I came to visit her. It was weird, hearing a lady laugh. I mean, we heard April all the time, but she's no lady. Plus, it had the kinda husky sound in the throat that reminded me of Master Splinter. We hadn't heard him laugh much lately, either.

"See…my big brother and I, we don't get along real well most of the time. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love 'em, sure. But…he's really strict, and he's half in charge now that our Dad's getting on in years. He likes rules, I like to go with the flow. He tells me I'm gonna get into trouble some day, but I don't think anything I find on the streets is worse'n hearing him bit-" I paused and looked at her raised eyebrow. "…hearing him complain."

"Well," Mz. Morrison said, putting her cup down as her cat Lucy hopped into my lap. "I don't think that's unusual, Raphael. I bet a lot of siblings out there feel the same way you do for your brother."

I winced, and was glad that she couldn't see it. "I…maybe." Lucy nudged at my hand and I scratched her absently behind the ears.

"Oh, Lucy, you're so right. It's dinner time! Raphael, would you care to stay for supper? We normally have soup on Tuesdays, but there's plenty for all."

There was a part of me that knew that Mz. M didn't have much to go around, but I also knew that she was lonely. I grinned. "I uh…I love soup." I was actually pretty apathetic about soup, but whatever. It was nice to see her happy.

"Wonderful! Be a dear, won't you, and grab me a big pan from the cabinet beside the stove?"

Spending time with Ms. M was nice. She always gave me a pat on the head, encouraged me to grow my hair out like a gentleman, and gave me a bag of cookies to take home.

I didn't take them home, of course. My brothers would ask me where it was that I went at night that involved me coming home with bruises, cuts, and a bag of cookies. I took them to David's old place, the same one I still used, and kept them there.

I didn't always go there to suit up. Sometimes I just went there to be alone for a while, with moonlight streaming in the window of the living room and the comforting sounds of car horns from the street. A lotta times, I'd kick back and read something from David's old collection. He was a nerdy old coot, and kept a buncha dirty copies of books with scribbles, underlines, and notes in the margins. Stuff I guess he thought was important.

It's a thing about literature. You know, you can apply it to any situation, right? But there were days when I'd be relaxing sideways in David's big, ancient-ass armchair, reading, and one of the passages he'd underlined would nail me in the gut.

"A guy needs somebody to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain't got nobody. Don't make no difference who the guy is, long's he's with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an' he gets sick."

Then I'd slam the book in frustration and put on the suit. Slow, with half-guilty movements. Thinking of Mikey, but especially of Don.

And someday, you know someday it's gonna be me who says "I'm sorry" first. Just seems like my brothers always beat me to the punch.

But that's the story of my life, ain't it? And maybe that's why: I watched him go, all proud and noble, all that hard work paying off. And I'm still here, stagnating, held back and nothing else has changed. Still here sick, still here alone.

And before I go out on patrol, I contradict every damn thing I'm thinking and stuff that extra blue bandana into my pocket again. Like a good luck charm, or something. I know I'm holdin' on to things I can't have. I remember that night; it's branded onto my eyelids. I remember the look in his eyes when he left. Not just when he left for training but when he left me alone, too scared to look back. I saw the emptiness in his eyes and knew- I'd fucked him up for good, then.

There was no use lookin' back anymore. I'd made a path for myself, and empty as it was I'd be damned if I wasn't gonna follow it on my own.

"How can we live without our lives? How will we know it's us without our past? No. Leave it.

Burn it."

Leonardo

The night that April left, I made a trip to the village and found the one "public" telephone they had. It was in a little shack near the entrance, with faded maps and a gunrack. It was, I'd since gathered, the "office" of the watchman who, since I'd arrived, hadn't been around all that much. I fished in my belt, found the nearly untouched calling card Master Splinter had given me, and used it to dial the number on the business card April had left me. It rang three times.

"Thank you for calling Intelacast's technical hotline. I'm Donnie, your friendly IT tech support specialist here to help you twenty-four hours a day. What seems to be the trouble?"

My throat closed and I swallowed. Never in my life had I heard Donnie sound so hollow. I wanted to reach through the phone and hug him, rip the cords from the wall, something. My gentlest brother, so empty and monotone.

An absolutely exhausted, frustrated sigh. "Hello?"

I was scared by the reality of it all, overwhelmed by hearing his voice again after two years.

"Hello?"

I hung up.

That night, I removed all traces of my life from the cave. The next morning I had left a note on Rosemaria's door, thanking her and saying goodbye. And the night following, I was on my way back to the coastal port taking the first step on my long journey home.

And Warred With Yourself

Epilogue

"My son, though I had imagined you had kept busy and held up a steady training regime, I did not anticipate it to be so altering to you."

The tips of Leonardo's mouth quirked in a very small smile. "I am grateful for the lessons I learned there, Master. I apologize once more for being gone so long."

Splinter's eyes narrowed kindly. "My son…we all must do what we feel we must. If you felt the need to be there longer, then it was for the best. I am only glad that you have returned to us in one piece, and now I wish for you to take your place once more as leader of your brothers. There is much that has fallen apart since you left which now requires mending."

Leonardo bowed his head obediently. "Yes, Sensei." He looked as if he had just remembered something and said, "Master…how did you know about the medallions in the first place?"

A warm chuckle as Splinter poured another cup of tea. "My son…where do you think I got that medallion I handed you not an hour before?"

He laughed huskily as Leonardo coughed. "What? But…that's...Prince Taanil had it. Rosemaria said that no one knew-"

"Of all your brothers, I had not imagined you to be so literal."

Leonardo searched his father's eyes, utterly confused. Splinter sank back on his heels and pointed over Leonardo's shoulder.

"You carry your katana everywhere. Why?"

His response slow in forming, Leonardo furrowed his brow. "Because…" he began, "they are a part of me. A…a symbol of what I believe in, all that I've learned."

Splinter nodded. "A symbol, yes. They are for you the manifestation of the power of your soul. Think of the medallion as a symbol. When I was at that temple in my earlier days, when I left you and your brothers with the Ancient One for a period, I too found myself tested. I, too, was given a medallion. Though it did not look as you describe."

"Master Splinter." Leonardo spread his hands in a gesture of utter disbelief. "Prince Taanil told me that no one had yet to claim the medallion. He said that many had tried and failed."

Chuckling, Splinter patted his eldest son's hand in sympathy. "Not the ultimate medallion, no. But a manifestation of personal and spiritual worthiness. Only you, it seems, were meant to bring peace to those ancient brothers. As I had know all along, in my heart."

They sat in silence as Leonardo took it all in. "You knew. You knew I was meant to help Prince Taanil, and that is why you sent me to Central America and not Japan?"

Splinter's expression and voice gentled. "Yes. Because you understand better than anyone else what it is like to play the part of Older Brother to your own cosmic opposite."

That settled on Leo's shoulders like a blanket, giving him a small measure of peace. "I…think I understand, Master."

"Good. Now drink your tea. It is growing cold."

Leonardo smiled. "Yes, Father."

"D'you uh…d'you have a good time?"

Leonardo's mind spiraled back through all that had happened since he'd left, and he laughed. "Well…in a manner of speaking."

"Cool."

They stared at each other over the table. Leo's eyes softened and he slid his hand forward. Raphael, frozen, snapped his eyes up to his brother's face. Leonardo smiled.

Raph pushed back from the table and tossed his bowl in the sink. Before he left the kitchen he paused in the doorway and sent a suspicious glance over his shoulder. Then he was gone.

Leonardo shook his head, but still the smile lingered. "Yeah, Raph. It's good to see you, too."

It's Time that you Won

It was going to take time, I knew. But I was willing to wait. Because every time he looked at me, I saw him as he'd been in my jungle-dreams: golden, hesitant, hurt. I could fix that now. I could.

Because I could feel my brothers within me as never before. I felt each of them as a different heart beat, humming steadily next to my own. I could feel his strongest of all.

The night I returned home I went out walking into the sewers and retraced our steps from years ago, when we'd found this corner in the dark. I remembered his words, the look in his eyes. The water rushing against my ankles felt strange now, but I took comfort in that, too. I could understand it. I knew how it made me feel. It was cold, it was muddy.

It was home. And home was something that I now understood.

I tilted my head back and looked up, letting the breeze tug at my bandana tails. I smiled.

There, through the grating, I could see a wide-arcing spray of stars.

Author's Notes:
There you go. The End. I sincerely hope it was enjoyed, and I apologize for any inconsistencies. Next multichapter plot-driven fic I'll work out the kinks.

Spanish translations: (As far as I can figure. I don't speak Spanish. At all. I had a friend do these.)

"la…la aldea? Esta" - The...the village?

"La aldea está en la selva, quizá veinte millas de aquí. No lejos. Goce la vista." - The village is in the jungle, about twenty miles from here. Not far. Enjoy the view.

"El fantasma hizo favores para nosotros. Ahora, he hecho una favor para el fantasma." - The ghost has done favors for us. Now, I have done a favor for the ghost.

Also, the two quotes in Raphael's POV part are both from John Steinbeck. The first is from Of Mice and Men and the second is from The Grapes of Wrath.

Thanks again guys. Peace.