A/N: Hey look, I'm alive! Shocking, yes. I had abandoned this story previously, but always had a small intention to return. Thus, here I am. Hopefully, I've gotten a bit better at this whole writing thing. I'm not holding my breath.

It's not every day that he gets the peace and quiet that he's getting today. Usually, this place is nothing short of utter chaos. If there's not sparing and practice going on, some sort of patrol or something, then it's Raph's crazy music, Mikey's ridiculous movies, Don working with the vehicles and the occasional explosion when something goes wrong it his lab. Those are all such normal, generic sounds in this home that it doesn't really do it justice to call it home without all the noise and ruckus, as much as it annoys him sometimes.

If Leo were inclined to give such musings much thought, he'd probably theorize that the sentiment comes from a childhood of growing up with a household full of brothers. Rowdy brothers as that, always getting into trouble and shoving themselves into one another's personal space. At times it's maddening. At others, it is strangely comforting.

It's not uncommon, particuarlly after an injury or scare in some random fight, that Leo and his brothers are inclined to be tactical with one another. Mikey is an octopus as a normal day, and he's ten times more likely to plaster himself to someone sitting on the couch if there's been a skirmish lately. Raph would probably sock the first person to call him touchy, but he keeps them in his sight after any sort of injury. He hovers nearby and he's not exactly subtle about it. Or apologetic. If you're dumb enough to get yourself scrapped up then you have to suffer the brutal attentions of Raphael. He rarely lets Donnie up to the junkyard on his own and he's the first to phone one of them if they're been gone a expedited amount of time.

Leo had ribbed him about it once when Mikey had gone to check on a security camera on the east side of the lair. Mike had been gone nearly 30 minutes and Raph, who was going a little white in the eyes, had snatched up his shell-cell the minute the clock hit the minute mark. Once Mikey, who'd simply been taking his sweet time, had returned, Leo given Raph and a small shove to the shoulder and said teasingly, "Feel better, Raph?"

His immediate younger brother caught the hand on his shoulder and spun around to face Leo in one quick, fluid movement.

"The last time we didn't check on somebody, they threw you into our window."

His voice was biting, matter-of-fact, and cold as steel. He'd stalked out of the room and left Leo standing in quiet shock. It was the first time he'd truly understood what his injury had done to Raph, how much he worried about the rest of them. It was humbling experience, and one that Leo hadn't forgotten.

Raph was a man of action, of purpose, and when he couldn't take action to protect his family was when he got mad. He'd turn to fury like a caged animal, ragging against whatever was holding him back. It concerned Leo on a number of levels, but even he could imagine that it had its occasional purposes.

Nothing was more lethal than a corned animal.

And that's exactly what Raph could become.

"Hey, Leo! Are we all out of popcorn again?"

The sound of his youngest brother's voice drew the eldest abruptly out of his own musing. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs from his thoughts and shifted his focus to his immediate surroundings.

"I thought so. Why don't you check with Raph?"

He walked into the kitchen to find his orange banded brother standing on top of the counter, rooting around in the cabinets, presumably for the missing popcorn. Leo winced, tapping Mikey on the back of the ankle in lieu of his usual slap across the head.

"No feet on the counter."

"Aw, Leo," Mikey whined, but hopped down at his older brother's request, flashing him a watts-bright grin. "Raph doesn't speed enough time in here to know where the plates are, let alone the food."

It was true. Raph had been summarily banned from all cooking activity have he'd destroyed the microwave and toaster both within a week. Don had shoved him out of the kitchen, amid the black smoke the microwave had been coughing up, and promptly refused to ever let him near the appliances again. Since then, Raph had kept a stash of his own snacks in his room and rarely came into the kitchen are except to retrieve a drink or join the family for meals.

"That's true," Leo admitted, then frowned. "Where is Raph by the way?"

Mikey shrugged, standing on his tip toes to continue rummaging through the cabinets. "I think he and Don went out scavenging earlier. He said they'd be a while. Aha!" he broke off triumphantly, raising a small bag in the air. "Gotcha! Last one!"

A grin quirked at the corner of Leo's mouth, always threatening to laugh at Mikey's unbridled enthusiasm. It was a refreshing in their dangerous life, though it usually poured over into annoying. He settled against the counter, content to watch Mikey hop around the kitchen, making popcorn, snatching sodas from the fridge, chattering non-stop. Leo took note of the accumulating dishes in the sink and resolved to finish them off while Mikey delta with the food.

As he turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm he couldn't help but feel a small knot of concern growing the pit of his stomach.

When were Raph and Don getting back?