Hurricane: Part VII

For the past few days, he had kept his mouth shut. Didn't go out of his way to torture Mikey, followed through on everything Donatello wanted done, and avoided most confrontations with his eldest brother. Sure, he'd open his yap if he had to, but right now he figured no one could handle too much of his normal charm.

Secrets were everywhere, though. They all had them now, some they shared, some they kept for themselves. And some everyone knew but were too afraid to bring to light.

"How many days do we have?" Don asked, hunched over a slew of papers all scattered about their sad kitchen table.

Raph wracked his brain for exact details. "Bout a week an' a half, prolly less...deez bozos on da news don' know fer sure."

"I could've told you that...Honestly, I'd love to have a job where I'm paid to be wrong fifty percent of the time."

"With all da lives at stake, dey bettah start bein' right."

Donny snorted. "No kidding. Where did they project her to be today?"

He indicated on an old, water-damaged map the general area he'd seen broadcasted. Don marked it, then proceeded to measure with a compass. This map had all sorts of funky-looking, hand-drawn waves and whirls on it that Don must have added.

Raph watched, totally lost, as his brother began a long row of consecutive equations. Plugging in answers here, changing letters to numbers there...he really didn't get it. Thank goodness he didn't have to.

"So uh, how bad is dis gonna be? Fer us?"

"Bad. Very, very bad. The worst part being I have no idea just how detrimental I could be."

"Don' let Mikey hear ya say dat."

"Oh, I won't," murmured the turtle while gathering his work into one neat stack, "But, you know, he'll have to be told eventually."

Somehow, he got the feeling Donny wasn't talking about Mikey. "Like I said, lemme handle breakin it ta-"

"Breaking what to whom, Raph?"

Startled, he spun to find Leonardo himself standing a mere few feet away, arms folded, face set.

Crud.

"Nuthin'...an' no one."

"That's what I thought." Not saying more, he shrugged his way past them.

He had to have noticed Don's papers, but instead Leo turned his back and yanked open a cabinet door. Fishing out a mug, he set it down on the countertop with an audible clang. Then he stood there, head bowed, one hand still on the cup, the other gripping the cabinet door with such force Raph thought he might tear it right off its hinges.

"Uhh...?"

"What?" He snapped over his shoulder.

"...Nothing. Just, are you alright? Feeling any pain or-"

"No." The cabinet was safe again, but now their ancient tea kettle was in harms way as he began preparing it for the stove with too much roughness. Good thing he'd grabbed the cast iron one because all too soon there came another, deafening cacophony.

Leo swore.

"Bro-"

"Don't, Don. Don't even ask. I dropped the kettle in the sink, that's all. I'm not dying, I won't be any time soon, so quit acting like I am."

Raph knew something had gone gravely wrong. Poor Don stood there trying not to show how much that just hurt. Their brother never swore, never deliberately lashed out. Only in extreme cases had he ever...

But...

Mabbe it's another thing dat's changed...

Truth be told, he knew a lot of things about Leo that hadn't existed before the whole incident. The worst of which being his nightmares. Having a room right next to Leo's and sharing a wall proved...difficult since Leo had been able to move back in. Somehow, in his stony heart, Raphael couldn't bare to tell the others about how he'd lay awake at night, sometimes going as far as to sit outside his brother's room, and listen to him as he made strangled noises in his sleep. Sometimes he'd talk, though not in coherent sentences. Most nights he'd wake himself, panting and gasping, whether in pain or something else Raph hadn't an idea. Either way, Leo keeping him up every night was beginning to take its toll.

That, the current disaster taking place, the plans for the Foot clan, Splinter watching him like a hawk, Leo sneaking into the dojo every couple of hours, and Mikey not being himself...he could handle that much. But Saint Leo swearing, banging around in the kitchen, and snapping at Donny?

Last straw.

"What da hell is wrong wit you?"

"...I don't know."

Raph snatched the wet kettle away. Slammed it down out if his brother's reach with twice the force Leo exerted on his mug. "Wadda ya mean you don' know? Eh? Hit yer head while ya was in dere 'strechin'?!"

"Yes, because that makes total sense!"

"Uh, Leo? You really shouldn't-"

"Nah, let em, Don. Let em go blow his stitchin'! Cuz he ain't gonna stop no madda-"

"I'm not going to 'blow my stitching'! I know what I can handle and, unlike you, I have people I have to look out for!"

"So ya think! And it ain't like we can't look afta ourselves!"

"Raph-"

Leo held up a hand to silence him. "No, I want to hear him say it."

"Hear me say wha? Dat we don' need ya dere fer us all da time?" The instant the words left his tongue, he regretted them. He wasn't about to take them back, but they stung and even Raph could feel it.

'I'll be here for you guys. Don't worry about me.'

"You don't need me...Right..." Briefly, for a fraction of a second, that impenetrable wall between the Leo everyone saw and the Leo he hid from the world came crumbling down. Just long enough to allow Raph a quick glimpse before it slid firmly into place once more. "I guess you guys certainly proved that over the past couple of days..."

"It's not like that!" Donatello sputtered. Somewhere along the lines, he'd set his research back on the table. "We've been meaning to-"

"It's like I said Don. Don't. Just...don't."

And he left.

Like earlier, Raph let him leave. Granted, not for the same reasons, but... still. His brother left while the pure disbelief of what he'd just witnessed had frozen him where he stood. When he could function again, the damage had been done, the fight over, and Leo gone.

"Perfect. Now he'll go worry himself to death over your beautiful sentiment." Grabbing his stack, Don turned to stalk out as well, no doubt planning to hole himself up in his lab and pour over his research until he crashed on his desk again.

"Wait."

His family knew Raph could never control his emotions well. Master Splinter called him 'passionate'. Everyone else referred to him as a hot-head with a short fuse. What no one really knew, however, was how high his level of emotional comprehension could be at times.

Michelangelo had a bad day, he saw it. Donatello was stressed out, he felt it. He simply chose to ignore... Or he was too busy trying to deal with his own disjointed feelings to pay close attention.

This time, he couldn't feign indifference. Not when that glimpse into Leo's inner self just dealt him a swift uppercut to the jaw.

"What? I sort of have a ton of work to do-with several lives hanging in the balance-and if you think I'll continue to waste that time separating fights-"

"I know, I know! Dis is more important."

"More important than saving our lives? ...Is this still about Leo?" Don eyed him closely, ready to retort if he gave him reason to.

"Yeah, it is." And Raph's big mouth. And Raph's idiocy. But he wouldn't admit to those two quite yet. "Go grab Mikey. We need ta talk wit Fearless."

Don sighed. "Fine. This one is on you though, not me. I specifically told you not to upset him."

"Dis goes deeper dan wha happen jus' now. Trust me."

I can't believe I came back for this.

His whole life, or as much as he could remember, he had lived for one soul purpose. Family. Understanding, protecting, and, later, guiding. Every second of training, every cell in his body, every ounce of blood shed-both his and his enemies'-all for that single word. That single concept.

And now, after everything he'd done...after all he'd sacrificed over the years: his own wants, wishes, happiness, and safety...where was he?

Alone. Trapped in a broken body with no way to escape the great storm that threatened to destroy him from the inside out. His identity, the very fiber of which he'd based his life, taken from him. His family...yes, that concept he'd worked so hard to defend...turned away from him.

'They need me.' What a laughable thought. As soon as they found out I may never be the same, they moved on. I'm no longer trusted or revered. They treat me like an unwanted houseguest!

He punched the wall. It felt good at first, until the pain made itself known. Sadistically, he almost welcomed the ache. Took the edge off his turmoil and forced him to turn his attention from these toxic thoughts.

Studying his knuckles, he found ripped skin and blood. Nothing he wasn't used to, though he rarely used his fists in battle. That was more of Raphael's preference than his.

Raph...

No matter how he tried to block out his brother's words, they always found a way to affect him. Every time. He knew Raph only said what he did because it got to him, but that didn't make it hurt less. On the contrary, the fact made it hurt all the more.

Why? Because it showed he was weak. Weak enough for Raph to make him mad. Weak enough to make him verbally lash out at both his brothers. Granted, he'd just lost his katana, a fact that remained burning in his chest, but that was hardly an excuse.

Family. They were family. He was supposed to project them, be there for them.

"Mabbe we don' need ya dere fer us all da time!"

Some "family". Secrets, lies, fights...what kind of a family was that? What kind of a family had they become? Sure, since the beginning of their existence he never got along with Raph. But a fight had been the cause of this whole new mess, hadn't it? Now everything that made them a family was gone, replaced by deceit, guilt, quarrels, and maybe even hatred.

Staring down at his bandages, Leo wished the last week had never happened. He touched the gauze and epoxy layer holding his plastron together.

Don did everything he could. I'm alive because of him. And yet, here I am, pushing my limits...and everyone's patience.

Exhaling in a big rush, he tried to ignore the twang of pain it caused him. Not just the sigh...everything. Deep down he knew the fault of losing his swords was solely his, just as the fight with Raph had been his doing. And Donatello...he never deserved to be snapped at.

The problem here wasn't his brothers, but him. They no longer trusted him, and for good reason. He must come across as a nut job, going off on his own, pushing his limits, barely talking...Yeah, pretty crazy.

I owe them an apology, he thought. Donny, Master Splinter...Raph...For what a mess I've been.

While he was thinking of messes, his room certainly was one. Normally kept clean and tidy, it resembled Mikey's room now more than his. He couldn't help but think how his mind and his room were ironically similar at the moment.

Just another thing he needed to fix.

"Hey, Leo."

He looked up to find not one of his brothers, but all three peering in at him. They looked...wary.

Automatically, he went on the offensive, heart rate increasing and muscles tensing."Guys? What's-"

"We're goin' fer a run," grunted Raph, "An' we taght we'd invicha."

Huh. "With Mikey's leg the way it is?"

"Eh." Michelangelo waved him off. "It ain't all that bad. 'Sides, this bein' stuck in the lair's got me all buggy."

"I...really should stay here."

Now Don interjected. "We're just going topside, Leo, not seeking a fight. Like you said earlier, you're nowhere near death." He smiled apologetically. "So long as you feel comfortable with it, you should join us."

That didn't make sense. A few hours ago, Don had been ready to have a bird because he'd been in the dojo, yet now he was allowing him to go out? To risk encountering the Foot again?

"You were right, Don. I shouldn't be pushing myself."

"Is dat a 'count me in'?"

Leo shot him a glare. "No, it means I'm staying. What if we need to fight? I can't defend myself."

"We got your back, Bro."

"Says Hop-A-Long."

"But, Leo-"

"No."

Raph looked at Donny. Donatello looked back. Slowly, the turtle in purple nodded.

"Hate ta break it ta ya, but ya ain't got no choice. Y're comin', whetha ya like it o' not."

Leo's gaze flicked between the three of them. Mikey, eyes pleading. Raph, arms crossed. Don, determined and resolved. Surely they wouldn't...

"There are three of us and one of you," stated Donny, as if he could read his mind. "We carried you in, we can carry you out if that's what it'll take."

"Why?" What was the point of risking their lives? He knew exactly how it would end. They'd encounter Karai's forces. During the battle, he'd be unable to protect himself, let alone his siblings. The three of them would try admirably to help, but in turn would drop their own defenses to accommodate for his. Disjointed, they would all fall.

And he wouldn't, no, couldn't allow that to happen.

Again, some secret communication passed between Don and Raph.

"Well...you've kind of been acting a little-"

"Crazy. Ya've been a ragin' nutcase dis past week an' we figure ya need some air. Ya know, clear whateva's been messin' with yer head."

"That's nice of you." Okay, maybe his sentence came out more sarcastic than he'd intended. Still, Raph just voiced his greatest fear: they thought him as psychotic as he did himself. "I doubt any amount of air, sewer or city, can help what's been bothering me."

"Please, Leo?" Michelangelo did those accursed Mikey eyes, the ones Leo couldn't say no to and also made Raph want to punch him right between his orange mask's eyeholes.

"...Fine." Lamenting felt both good and bad. Bad because he had an inkling the minute they stepped foot above ground, Karai would know. Good simply because he'd been itching to leave the lair...and because he had a bunch of apologies to make.

"Great...I didn' wanna haveta carry you anyway."

Tune in next chapter! :D