Hiding in Sunlight

by KC

Disclaimer: Ninja Turtles belong to someone else. Not me.

Summary: When the family begins to break down, the turtles draw closer than ever to protect themselves. Turtlecest. OT4.

Sunlight and swaying shadows gradually brought him out of sleep. That wasn't right. Electric lights pushing away deep shadows, that was what always followed sleep. Sunlight was rare and he never woke up to it, since the world above ground meant light and danger and never lowering his guard. But he heard nothing except birds and the wind rustling through leaves, so he wasn't at home and he wasn't in danger.

Still tired, he blinked slowly, not knowing how long he'd slept. As he pushed himself up, leaning on his arm and pushing the blanket to his waist, he groaned and shook his head once to clear it. His whole body felt sore, as if he'd trained for days without rest. His hands were too stiff to flex properly and bandages covered his right arm and shoulder, making it hard to move. He tried to open his right eye, hampered by more bandages over one side of his face, but he took some comfort in seeing faint light through the linen strips. At least he could still see from it.

He took a deep breath and looked around, confused to find himself in the farmhouse. When had he come here?

Dizzy. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and closed his eyes as the world tilted. He felt like the floor would tip so much he'd fall, but as he leaned too far to compensate, someone put their arm around him and held him steady.

"Easy," Donatello murmured. The mattress shifted as he sat down next to him, keeping a firm grip. "Don't move too fast."

His brother's voice was a welcome focus, a familiar sound he could concentrate on. After staying still for a few seconds, the whirling feeling faded until he could open his eyes again. He didn't try to look at his brother yet. Staring at the floor helped keep everything from spinning again.

"What happened?" he mumbled, dismayed by how tired he sounded. "When'd we get here?"

"We've been here for about a week," Donatello said. "You just don't remember waking up before, that's all. How do you feel?"

"Like I lost a fight," Leonardo answered. He blinked and tried to remember, but he only drew a blank. The aches under the bandages certainly felt like battle wounds. "Did I lose a fight?"

"Um, not really," Donatello said, but they both heard his hesitation. He winced and tried again. "It's a long story but it can wait for awhile. Right now just take it slow."

"Mike and Raph-"

"We're all fine," he said. "They're downstairs. If you don't fall back asleep again, I'll let 'em come up."

His head felt like it was full of fog that wouldn't clear. Leonardo shook his head once, wincing as the floor spun again and his stomach twisted. He knew something was wrong, something Donatello wasn't telling him, but he couldn't pick one question out of his broken thoughts.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Donatello asked far too gently for his liking.

A dozen nightmare scenarios played out in his head, his most familiar imagined defeats and potential losses to his enemies. He often couldn't help imagining what would happen if he'd lost the fights to Saki, to Karai, or to countless monsters. He dismissed them all and forced them out of mind. Since Donatello didn't rush him, he allowed himself to meditate lightly, thinking back to something before he woke up. He remembered the distant past, remembered the pizza and junk runs of the last month, but the more recent memories came in weak flashes.

Meaningless images passed by, blood on concrete, the mat on Splinter's floor, one of his notebooks, the tunnel that led to the surface. All of them were things he was familiar with. None of them stood out more than any other.

"I think..." he started, uneasy as Donatello leaned closer. "I was in Master Splinter's room. I remember him asking me to come in. That's it."

Donatello nodded to himself as if that made perfect sense. Ignoring Leonardo's look, he pulled the blankets spilling off the bed back over his brother.

"You don't have to go back to sleep," Donatello said, touching his forehead. "But you should try. You're still a little hot."

"Don't want to." Leonardo didn't know why he felt a sense of dread at the thought of sleep, but if he'd slept a week, he had a good excuse for staying awake. Better than to say he was nervous about drifting back into dreams. "Where is Splinter, anyway?"

"Home. Just us out this time." Donatello leaned over him to grab the pillow beside him, tucking it behind his shell before helping him lay down again.

Sighing in relief, Leonardo took the moment to relish shifting his body to another position. He'd never understand how sleep and rest could make him more tired than when he first lay down.

As he straightened the blankets, Donatello eased close enough that Leonardo could feel his brother's warmth. He was glad he could look away in exhaustion. For the past few years, he'd kept the growing desire for his brothers a secret. It took an extra hour or two of meditation, sometimes longer training runs alone, and sometimes nothing but sheer willpower to be around them without breaking. Every month, he found something new about each of them to dwell on, to summon up in his thoughts. Raphael's sullen yearning for the sky, Donatello's joyful playing with lightning, even Michelangelo's teasing that had them all snapping back...in quiet moments alone or in bed, he craved their presence and wished for more.

A sordid, diseased secret, but one he'd hidden for years, satisfying himself with nothing more than daydreams and quick sketches, penciled and then burned in the same afternoon. He planned on taking his base desires to the grave, if he was lucky enough to get a grave. He didn't think he could live with the disgust in his family's eyes if they ever found out.

So cold chills flooded his body as Donatello touched his face and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Frozen, Leonardo closed his eyes as his brother drew close, their foreheads touching. Dreaming, he must have fallen asleep, and this was a dream. One of the few pleasant ones. Oh please, let it last.

"I wish there was an easier way of telling you," Donatello murmured. "But this isn't so bad, is it? And I can't stand you not remembering and thinking you're alone."

"...what?" With his good arm, or at least the arm that didn't feel like it was about to fall off, Leonardo reached blindly and found Donatello's shoulder. Still a dream? He could touch him, he...

"We know how you feel about us," Donatello said. "We found out when-around the time you got hurt. It isn't disgusting or wrong, Leo, unless you think all of us are disgusting, too."

It didn't matter that he could touch him. Leonardo knew then it had to be a dream, a wonderful, vivid dream that would rip something out of him when he woke.

"We were afraid to say anything, just like you were. And then to find out we all felt the same..."

Leonardo could hear the tears in his brother's voice. He almost laughed to hear it. It sounded so real, so much like Donatello when emotion choked him into silence.

"I'm dreaming," he whispered.

"No," Donatello said. He drew back and held Leonardo's hand briefly before forcing it back down to the mattress, giving him a tiny pinch. "See, you're not dreaming. It's real. We didn't know, but we do now."

"How?" Leonardo shook his head, wincing when that made him dizzy again. "Did I slip somehow?"

"I...I can't tell you how it happened," Donatello said, frowning for the first time and shaking his head before Leonardo could ask again. "It's something you have to remember for yourself. You-can you trust me on this?"

The answer was easy. "I trust you with my life."

Donatello's smile returned. "I think we'll be trusting each other with our hearts from now on."

Too much to accept all at once. Leonardo blinked hard a few times, then realized it wasn't from shock. His body simply needed to sleep again. He started to rise, then groaned as Donatello put his hand on his chest, easily keeping him on the pillows.

"I don't want to sleep yet," Leonardo argued. "I'll think this really was a dream. And there are questions I-"

"You can ask later," Donatello said. "When you're awake more than a couple minutes at a time. Maybe I shouldn't have told you so soon, but I couldn't stand you not knowing something this important."

"No, you were right. I..." Leonardo lay back and stared at the ceiling, fighting sleep for a few more seconds. So many things he needed to know, he thought the frustration alone might kill him. "When I wake up, will you tell me again? In case I think it was just a dream?"

"I will," Donatello promised. "Or Mike or Raph will. We take turns doing this."

Leonardo nodded once, finally succumbing. He couldn't expect Donatello to spend the entire day at his side for a week or more. It was only as he felt his brother easing back and sleep rushed in that he wondered if this wasn't the first time he'd woken up to a kiss and simply forgot.

TBC...