I read somewhere that in some comic - lost in the many adaptations of the tmnt universe - Leonardo got his hand cut off by the Shredder. Let's explore that.

Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine and this probably sucks but hey, I tried.

Trigger warnings all around, loss of limbs, adult language, and if you don't like violence turn away now.

Thirty-eight seconds after

It doesn't even hurt, that was the first thought that passed through Leonardo's muddled brain. It doesn't hurt at all.

He felt warm actually, heat licked every inch of his skin starting at the top of his head and seeping down to his toes.

All around him was chaos. Fire burned to his left and ninja fought to his right battling against his brothers with weapons clashing, grunts of pain, and shrieks as opponents ran at each other. It was so loud or, at least he thought it had been loud. Now everything was going quiet – like he was walking down a long tunnel. Blood dripped from his right wrist gushing down his arm to drip from his elbow. It was warm, smooth, soft. The blood was coming fast but Leo couldn't understand why. Where were his swords? He looked over at his other hand to see he still had one of his twin katana clutched tight but the other one... where was it? It was just gone. He had to find it. He couldn't lose it, that sword was a part of himself. He'd forged it with his bare hands and – wait… his hands. There was something wrong with his hand. He didn't know what but something felt very, very wrong.

Where was his right sword?

Why was blood red? The thought struck Leonardo as his head started to spin. He'd always thought of blood as thick like molasses sloshing through his veins powering his body but looking at it now it just seemed thin, lifeless. Like all the sputtering it was doing was just some last ditch effort to live. Like a dead animal that twitched minutes after death trying to cling to that which it didn't have.

Laughter cut through Leonardo's strange meandering thoughts. It was menacing and if the turtle could have felt anything at all it would have been fear. As it was, he only felt warmth with a little chill starting at the edges.

The laughter got closer, louder. Leonard could hear it inside the long tunnel his mind had retreated into. It was getting nearer to him. He looked up feeling like his body was weighed down with lead in his veins and suddenly he was back in himself. He slammed back into reality like a rubber band being pulled back then let go with a slap! The room was large, dirty and smelled of rusted metal. There were machines everywhere mucking up corners and making it difficult to fight. Something hot licked at his side, fire. Somehow something had caught on fire.

The laughter got closer but Leonardo couldn't stand on his own two legs anymore. They were cold, numb. He swayed for a second before his knees gave out and he found himself landing hard on his knee pads. Wetness soaking into the pads. It smelled like copper and was warm.

Strange, Leonardo thought. I didn't think it rained.

Whatever sense he had left screamed at him to look up and after a battle with his protesting body he did. He brought his head up with too much difficulty to gaze at the person laughing over him.

Clad in metal that shined too bright and wielding a gauntlet like a tyrant among the poor, the Shredder stood. Something inside Leonardo told him that he needed to get up, to move out of the way but he couldn't. He couldn't get himself to move even an inch so be sat there, waiting. The Shredder's red eyes glistened with glee as he glazed down at the turtle he'd just mangled. He brought his already bloody gauntlet up above his head like he had done so many times before yet this time he would do it. He would squish this turtle under his boot like the scum he was. First his hand, and now his head!

"And so ends the great Leonardo!"

Time slowed down to less than a crawl. Some part of Leonardo knew he should feel scared but another part, a bigger part just felt tired. He needed to find his sword, he needed to get out of the way, he needed to protect his brothers. He needed to do a lot of things but he just wanted to sit there on the dirty ground in some warehouse on the other side of New York City.

It all happened so fast, yet so slow. He saw a flash of green and red coming for the metal man before at the same time as two pronged, sharp edges of his gauntlet descended towards his neck. Leonardo knew he was dead. He felt the graze against his skin, the whisper as a sharp tip ghosted against his throat before it was gone – ripped away. Suddenly there was nothing in front of him but fire and that fire was too far away to hurt him yet. It was just hot and choking the air as its flames licked the top of the warehouse. Already the roof was starting to tremble as its foundation was slowly being burned away. In the back recesses of Leonardo's mind he knew he needed to get out of here, gather his brothers and flee before the roof came down on them but the floor just seemed so nice. It was warm where Leonardo was cold. Before he knew it he felt himself listing forward. His head made hard contact with the chipped cement ground, his face looking to the left towards where the majority of the fire blazed. He saw two figures then – one green, the other shining metal. The green had something red wrapped around his eyes while the shiny figure's armor danced with the flames that surrounded it. They were fighting, metal weapons clinging loudly and cursing all the same.

What's going on?

Where are my swords?

Where are my brothers?

The metal figure fought hard but the green on battled viciously, as if he were fighting for something.

Hands touched Leonardo pulling and grabbing him maneuvering his body until he was flat on his shell. Faces swam into view but were just as quickly gone. Things were said from the faces but Leonardo couldn't concentrate on any one thing. One of the faces got close to him and said something once, waited, then said it again.

"Leonardo!"

For some reason it was the use of his full name that pulled him out of the dark abyss he hadn't even known he'd been slowly falling into.

"What?" He breathed back not knowing what was going on. Cold. So cold. Donatello took hold of either side of his face and smiled when he spoke. "You're going to be okay bro, I promise. Stay with me now. Stay with me."

"Don. Don! His hand. What happened to his hand?!" Another voice that sounded like his youngest brother filtered through Leonardo's brain. Mikey. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be seeing this. Leonardo didn't know what this was but he knew his little brother shouldn't be seeing it.

"Mike calm down." Donatello ordered in the most demanding voice Leonardo had ever heard. It almost sounded like himself. Maybe he was Donatello and it was Leonardo over him instead of the other way around. But, that wouldn't make sense. How could he be Donatello? He'd had a blue cloth wrapped the sword handle in his left hand and Donnie used a bo...

Where was his other sword? He needed his right sword, he couldn't lose it. "Where's m'sword?" Leonardo thought he spoke loudly but when Donatello didn't answer he figured the smart turtle didn't know, didn't care, or didn't hear him.

Another flash of green "I'm going to be sick."

"Leo? Leo? You need to let go. Let go of your sword bro, it's alright. You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine. No." Donatello took hold of Leonardo's chin forcibly when the older turtle turned to look down at his right arm. "No, don't look at it. You're going to be fine." Donatello kept up his litany of promises and encouragement as he tended to what he could with his field supplies all the while Leonardo stared up at the ceiling. There were no tears in his eyes though he knew that there should have been. He should be scared, but he wasn't. He should feel pain, but he didn't. He felt nothing.

"Leo, you're hurt. Do you understand me? Can you understand me?"

Yes, Donnie. Leonardo thought sarcastically. I'm not stupid. But he said nothing, he couldn't. He couldn't talk, couldn't get his mouth to move. Shock.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Michelangelo's scared voice came from his side.

"He's going into shock!" Donatello yelled though Leonardo knew not why he was yelling. Everything was so quiet. Peaceful. Almost like he was in that stage of meditation where one had to pull themselves back before they fell off the metaphorical cliff.

Another green mass stumbled next to Leonardo coming into view as he fell to his knees. The mass was bloodied and bruised with cuts on his face and a tear in his red mask but all together he looked whole. Raphael was breathing hard above him, sweat running down his face as if they were playing a hard game of Ninja Tag across the entirety of the NYC. He nodded once at Donatello who then had some secret exchange with their eyes before both turned back to Leonardo.

"We're gonna get you gotta here bro, don't you worry." Raphael promised.

Above his brother's heads, Leonardo saw the slight tremble. A shudder that ran though the burning rooftop. From where his brothers sat around him there was no way they would have seen it but he did. And he knew what was coming. As if pulled from the peaceful cold stream he'd waded into unknowingly Leonardo reached dropped his sword in his left hand and reached for Donatello grabbed the holster that he used to hold his bo staff. His last sounds before everything went black were screamed though clenched teeth as Donatello grabbed for his right arm. Pain. Like nothing he had ever felt before attacked him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. He could feel nothing but burning as it traveled up his arm, over his shoulders and down to his two toed feet. It was excruciating, all consuming and impossible agony that he couldn't take.

"We need to get out of here!" Someone screamed desperately over his own scream.

"Call April-"

"Don, the roof-"

"-what happened to-"

"-tell April we need-"

"-gotta go! Let's move him-"

"-oh, God. Leo. Leo-"

"-careful. Carful-"

"Fuck."

"Holy shell."

Then, nothing.

One day after.

Light. Sounds. All garbled and all blurry reached Leonardo the next time he awoke. He lay on something comfortable and warm. His head was surrounded by something soft. He wanted nothing more than to sink down into wherever he was laying and loose himself inside it but there was a nagging feeling in his chest. The feeling that something was terribly wrong and he needed to get up. To move, move, move!

Eyes popping open fast Leonardo tried to sit up but was pressed back down by two sets of strong hands on his chest. His heart raced he looked around the room – the Needle Room. Why was he in their sickbay? What was going on?

The lights in the Needle Room shined brightly burning Leonardo's eyes as he stared up at them until he tore them away. His eyes then circled the room trying to take it all in.

Is someone sick?

"Yeah bro, someone's sick," Raphael was next to Leonardo. The blue turtle frowned, had he spoken aloud? He didn't think so but everything felt so blurry at the moment. It was like a bag was placed over his head attempting to cut off not only the sights but the sounds of the lair.

Leonardo forced his head to the side. It fell to the side like a log too heavy for his neck to support it. He felt so weak. "Who's sick?"

There must've been something in Raphael's eye because he looked away abruptly finding the floor more interesting than Leonardo. He took a few deep breaths before rubbing at his eyes roughly and bringing them back up to meet Leonardo's tired blue orbs. "You, Leo. You're sick."

Really? He didn't feel sick. Sure, something felt off but he didn't feel sick. He tried to bring his hands up to touch his face but Raphael grabbed for his arms holding tight to his right arm in particular not breaking eye contact with Leonardo.

"Go back to sleep." He ordered softly. Raphael let go of Leonardo's left arm to reach over for something outside the bedridden turtles view. He felt a poke on the inside of his left arm and then everything got fuzzy. The lights morphed until it was a solid bubble and sounds retreated farther away. Leonardo could feel his eyes drooping even as he fought to stay awake. It only took a few seconds before he lost the fight with his closing eyes and fading consciousness and he was gone.

Four days after

"You've been in and out for a few days, do you remember anything?" Donatello asked when Leonardo had woken. The turtle looked up at his brother knowing that he should talk yet still feeling like something was so very, very wrong so he kept his mouth clamped shut. Donatello frowned at Leonardo coming closer to him. "Leo?"

"Mhhph," His voice was rough. He must've swallowed glass at some point. The lair was quiet save for the sounds of water rushing overhead and pipes dripping from leaks. There were bags under Donatello's eyes that his purple mask couldn't cover up. His eyes were bloodshot and the genius turtle's hands shook ever so slightly signaling the signs of too many energy drinks mixed with too much coffee and too little rest. His brother looked exhausted. He looked exactly how Leonardo felt. A female voice wafted in from the main parts of the lair – who was that? April?

"April and Casey have been here since we brought you home. April helped with... She's been helping with you." Donatello's voice tapered off into a murmur. Leonardo just looked at him wondering how he had been such a bother that his brothers had needed to recruit April and Casey to come help take care of him. "Do you remember anything?"

He racked his brain trying to piece together memories that were disjointed.

Leonardo could remember leading his brothers up from the sewers getting Topside just as the last rays of sunlight were whisked away by darkness. He could remember handing the black bandana to Michelangelo – it had been his turn to be the chaser in their game of Ninja Tag. Tag was just a simple game but was so good for not only stealth but also the ultimate endurance test. The person who had the bandana has to time themselves using the industrial grade watch Donatello had built that they each wore under their wrist wrappings. Built to keep the time but also had a functioning communicator and to the millisecond accurate stop watch. It was water proof, bullet proof and – as Raphael put it – Michelangelo proof. The person who had the bandanna the longest is the looser even if they weren't the turtle to have it last. The four went on an honor system when timing themselves and while it would be all too easy to cheat their pride made them honest.

Leonardo could remember setting his watch to the time then counting down, yelling go! and taking off in the opposite direction from Raphael, Donatello and hopefully Michelangelo. The blue turtle would swear up and down that he didn't care for the game, that he could care less at who won and who lost, but the winner got to tell the others what to do for a whole day and Leonardo needed his swords polished and the dojo cleaned and he was sure as shell not going to do it!

It had been maybe an hour into their game, Donatello had been caught by Michelangelo who then tapped Leonardo who then bested Raphael over a ten rooftop race that ended with the older turtle cornering the red one. All in all Leonardo was in last place having held the black bandanna longest. He was sweaty and out of breath by the time he turned to head another direction and he saw it. Flashes of light, voices filling the air of a warehouse that was closed this late at night. Flashlights flickered around the tops of the windows and Leonardo knew it was a break in. But then he heard screams. People were pleading, begging, and Leonardo pressed at the sides of his watch.

Twenty-eight minutes before

"Corner of Welsh and Eighth," he spoke into the communicator in his watch. Even he could admit it felt pretty cool. "Anyone want to take down some thugs?"

Three excited voices answered in harmony before his brothers were running for his position.

"Purple Dragons?" Mickelanglo questioned.

"It would seem so," Donatello nodded back.

Raphael, ever the impatient one, went to jump towards the building, "Come on, we gotta get in this."

"Wait," Leonardo called. "We need a plan."

"Leo," the red turtle all but whined to which Leonardo pursed his lips.

"Fine. Stay together, Mike you're on me. Raph with Don. Nothing stupid, right? Let's go. Let's move."

However, it was not Hun that stood in front of the gang of looters when Leonardo led his four turtles into the large warehouse. Oroku Saki, clad as the Shredder stood in front of the four turtles with his arms folded neatly together. They were surrounded in a second with black clad ninja.

A trap.

It had been a stupid trap and they'd fallen right into it.

Protecting the weak, it will always be your downfall.

Four days after

Leonardo could remember fighting. Of holding his swords with both hands then clutching them tighter when his palms became sweaty. He'd still had the black bandanna tied around his upper arm. After tearing through a group of sword wielding ninja, Leonardo could remember advancing forward only to come face to face with the Shredder himself...

After that it all became blurry, painful, and numb. He didn't remember much afterwards.

"I remember some," Leonardo admitted. Donatello must have shooed the others out of the Needle Room because he could hear their whispered voices coming from around the corner. He couldn't dictate who was speaking or even what they were saying just the timbre and normal cadence of the speech. It confused Leonardo. Donatello came closer to his bed. The thick blankets were pulled up to just under the blue turtle's chin covering him up. The bed dipped with his added weight, his eyes looked down at his older brother sadly.

"Don?" Leo asked feeling dread travel down his spine and drop into his stomach. "What...? What's wrong?"

Slowly, as if it physically hurt the brainy turtle to do so, Donatello picked up the end of the sheet with the tips of his fingers and started to peel it back. "Leo... you…something happened."

Leonardo tilted his head to the side eyeing his brother wearily. His head hurt and he knew something was wrong but at the same time he tried to deny it.

Somewhere deep inside Leonardo knew. He knew what was wrong, but knowing and seeing it for the first time were two different things.

When Don pulled back the sheet far enough Leonardo could see the beginning of a white bandage on his right arm.

"At first it was just your hand but... but it wasn't clean and infection had started to take root and – I'm sorry, Leo. I'm so sorry. I tried so save... There was just too much infection..."

Leonardo wasn't listening. He'd stopped listening the second his horrified eyes slowly came to rest on what wasn't there. It was a few seconds before his unbelieving mind could comprehend that it was his arm he was looking at. It was half gone, missing just below his elbow. Nothing. Where a muscular forearm used to lead to a slender wrist ending with a three fingered hand, now there was nothing. In the back of Leonardo's mind he though he felt a tickle on his right hand but no, he didn't really. He didn't have one anymore. It was gone.

"Leave." It was a breathless command as Leonardo he stared at his... At the stump where his arm used to be. Gone. It was gone. He felt his stomach twist and thought he'd be sick. Tears welled in his eyes so forcefully he couldn't hold them back. He choked again when Donatello didn't move. "Leave... please. Leave me alone for just-just..."

Donatello clenched his jaw hard trying to calculate the best move. "Okay Leo, but I'll be right outside. Just call if-"

"Leave!" He didn't mean to, oh God, he didn't mean to yell but it came out of his mouth so sharp and so loud it took his breath away. Donatello nodded in an understanding that Leonardo felt he didn't deserve. He stood and left him to himself. As soon as the door closed Leonardo looked back at his stump before letting his body sag against the bed.

Then, Leonardo screamed.

Nine days after

"Now, when you stand up you need to go slow. When you walk you'll feel off balanced for a while but that's natural. You're missing a... You're hurt, and everything you're feeling is normal." Donatello stumbled over his words as he stood across Leonardo's bed. The blue turtle was sat up with his feet over the side ready to begin walking again. He thought they should have started walking days ago but Donatello wasn't lenient with his orders. Leonardo bit at his cheek readying himself to walk across the room.

Nothing was normal anymore no matter what Donatello said. Everything's changed, everything's different.

Ralph stood by the door arms crossed leaning against the frame watching passively but muscles taunt just in case Leonardo fell. He was ready to catch his brother.

"My legs are fine, Don." He tried to reason for the umpteenth time.

"You've been through a lot," was all Donatello had to say back, his voice soft and neutral. "Now come on, up and at 'em."

Placing his right arm close to his chest and his left on the mattress, Leonardo pushed his feet until they touched the cold ground sending shivers up his spine. Grunting, he hoisted himself up using more energy than he thought necessary.

When he righted himself Leonardo felt strange. His head swam but he was able enough to center his mind though it still felt jumbled and chaotic. His balance was fine standing up but as soon as he took a step his body leaned too far trying to over compensate and he stumbled, his legs like jelly.

Raphael was to him in a second but not as fast as Donatello who grabbed him so he couldn't tumble over.

"I'm fine," Leonardo spat before either of them could say anything. "Just lost my balance." He wanted them to stop staring at him like he was broken, like they could fix him with their care and attention. All he wanted was to be left alone. He shook his head and swallowed determined to walk just to the door, something he'd done millions of times. Put on foot in front of the other, it shouldn't be this hard.

"Your center of gravity is going to be off." Donatello stood just out of arms reach and spoke soothingly. "Your body is trying to compensate. This isn't like losing a finger or some toes, you lost a... you lost a large portion of your arm and your body just needs to get used to it."

Leonardo bit his tongue hard to stop the sharp retort from hissing through his lips. He knew his brothers were just trying to help but he hated it. Hated feeling so lost. Hating feeling to useless. Hated feeling so broken.

Feeling his body starting to list to his right side, Leonardo leaned the other way slightly and kept walking determined to get over this stupid action of just simply walking. When he reached Raphael the red banded turtle smiled at him with a nod and Leonardo slowly turned back around heading back towards the bed he'd been recovering in the past week. Leonardo knew Raphael had not just stood in the doorway by chance, he was making sure the injured turtle could not walk out of their little make-shift hospital and into the lair. Leonard couldn't blame him. He would've done the same thing had this happened to any of his brothers. By the time he'd finally made it back to the soft cushioned bed he felt winded and sweaty. A drip of perspiration ran down his forehead getting caught in his mask. Leonardo sat down gently then grabbed for what was left of his arm and cradled it to his chest.

"That was great, bro!" Donatello cheered picking up some papers from his desk to mark on. Raphael popped his hip off the wall with his arms still crossed and made his way towards the bed.

"Is yer arm hurtin' ya?" He questioned.

"It always hurts," Leonardo mumbled back looking down at the bandage that still covered his limb. Through the white a stain of red could be seen faintly. It was almost time for his daily bandage change.

Donatello turned swiftly grabbing a syringe and a small bottle of medicine before plunging the needle through the top of the bottle to draw out the liquid. Without looking away from what he was doing Donatello gave instructions,"Raph, can you start undoing the bandage, it needs changed. Leo, why don't you go ahead and lay back. I'm getting you something for the pain."

With an angry glare Leonardo stayed where he was watching as Donatello stared closely at the syringe in his hand drawing back the plunger.

"You heard the turtle," Raphael smirked at him moving the thin blankets on the bed around so Leonardo could move back without getting caught up in the fabric. Leonardo closed his eyes taking a breath then eased himself back to lay down. Raphael gently started bringing back the bandage from the pale skin on his arm.

When Donatello had gotten all he needed from the medicine bottle he took the needle out then came around to Leonardo's other side. "Just a pinch," he warned as the pierced the thin needle into the crook of Leonardo's arm before emptying its contents.

Above him, the two turtles held a quiet conversation that Leonardo payed little attention to. He stared at the ceiling wishing he were anywhere but where he lay.

"I've got this," Donatello said softly a while later startling Leonardo. He didn't know when he'd closed his eyes and started to drift. The medication Donatello gave him always made him drowsy and his mind foggy. He opened his eyes seeing Donatello looking at a tired Raphael. The red turtle ran a hand down his face taking a haggard breath. "It's fine Don-"

"No really," Donatello implored softly placing a hand on Raphael's shoulder. The red turtle snapped his eyes up to look at the purple one. "You've watched over him for the last few nights, I'll get it."

Raphael nodded stepping away to wash his hands in the small sink. Leonardo felt tears burn the sides of his eyes and a lump choke his throat. He'd never felt like such a burden. The fact that he'd needed someone watching him while he slept filled his veins with anger and sadness but mostly hurt. A wave of depression swept through him but he swallowed it all down along with his tears. Now was not the time.

Raphael dried his hands from the wash then turned and padded back toward Leonardo. He bent down kissing Leonardo's forehead in a quick peck.

"Night bro, see you in the morning." Leonardo nodded back and the red banded turtle walked out the room closing the door behind him.

"Where's Mikey?" Leonardo asked Donatello as soon as the door closed.

"Oh, you know that shell-for-brains is around here somewhere probably playing video games or reading comics or-"

"Don." Leonardo cut in seriously. "Where is Mike?"

"He's..." Donatello broke eye contact focusing more on tightening the bandage around his right arm. "You know him, Leo. He's just trying to take it all in. I know he wants to see you, he just-"

"It's fine," Leonardo cut him off again. He felt sick staring at the wall, his throat tightened. "It's fine Don. Whenever he's ready to see me, I guess." And damn, did that hurt to admit aloud.

Fifteen days after

The lair was silent save for the yelling match going on inside the family's little hospital ward. There were shouts and quick remarks flying over the air cutting through the normal sounds of late night New York.

"No," Leonardo gritted his teeth. He would have crossed his arms as well but it hurt too badly.

"Leonardo you're going to take this damn medication even if I have ta shove it down yer fuckin' throat." Raphael growled low and deep. His hand held Leonardo's medication high, threateningly.

"I'm not taking that and I'm not staying here another night," Leonardo was practically up out of bed with his arm held tight in his other hand. Some part, some long forgotten part of the older turtle knew he was being difficult and stubborn but he just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be cooped up in these same four walls. He couldn't keep taking medication that made him groggy and forgetful and nauseous all the time. And most importantly he couldn't handle one more day of being treated like he was going to break. There were too many softly spoken words, too many reassurances that everything would get better. He was going to go crazy if they kept treating him like glass.

"Alright Fearless here's what yer gonna do. Yer gonna lay down in this damn bed and take this damn medicine and yer gonna damn well like it, got me?"

"No." Leonardo answered simply holding his chin high up like he hadn't done since before... Well, before.

Raphael growled loudly wishing Donatello and Michelangelo would get back from scavenging soon. As soon as the thought crossed his mind he heard the telltale sounds of the lair door being opened and sets of feet padding in. Raphael continued to stare at his older brother while Leonardo kept the bed between himself and the red turtle.

"What's going on?" Donatello demanded breaking the standoff as he came into the room with a stuffed bag slung over his shoulder. He could feel the tension stifling the air.

"Mr. Fearless Leader thinks he's good enough to just prance around New York City without his medicine."

"I can't stay cooped up in here anymore Donnie and I can't handle... You two have better things to do than to take care of me," Leonardo fiddled with the bed sheet between his fingers.

He had been so timid, Donatello thought, these last few days Leonardo had been so timid and now finally some of the fight was coming back to their brother. Slowly but surely. Donatello thought for a second before he turned to Leonardo.

"A few more days, alright? Then you can go."

"Fine." Leonardo bit out. He then held his hands out for the pills Raphael had and popped them into his mouth and swallowed dry. "Happy? Now everyone can leave."

"If you think I'm leavin'-"

"Raph," Donatello put his arm up to stop his brother before he said anything he would regret. "It's fine. We'll both leave so Leo can get some sleep."

"Don!" Raphael burst throwing his hands in the air. Donatello held up his hand again to placate his brother.

"We'll leave the door open," he instructed loud enough and turned his head so he was standing in front of Raphael but his speech was directed at Leonardo. "That way we can give him some peace but if he needs anything he'll just have to yell and we'll hear."

The blue and red banded turtle were both silent still fuming in their anger until Raphael let out a quick breath closing his eyes and biting at his bottom lip. "Fine," he agreed dully. Leonardo said nothing but shifted to his side presenting his shell to his bothers and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. Donatello checked a few of the monitors around the room before lowering the lights and stepping out right after Raphael. The door was left standing wide open.

From the second level the tails of an orange bandanna could be seen flipping behind a retreating figure into the darkness.

"I ain't gonna be able to sleep," Raphael grumbled as they padded from the Needle Room. Donatello felt bone tired but he knew he was too hyped up for sleep, "Me either."

The two looked at each other before flicking their eyes to the open door and back again. Donatello let out a sigh.

"I'll pick out a movie."

"I'll get the beers."

"Coffee for me," Donatello called softly heading towards the massive entertainment system.

"Spoilsport," Raphael grouched. Donatello turned on only one of the televisions then turned the volume down low so as to not wake the night any more than it already had been.

The light from the TV illuminated much of the turtles home but left even more enshrouded in shadows. Donatello pulled a blanket from the couch to cover his lap as he switched through the channels and listened to Raphael clank around in the kitchen. Distantly Donatello wondered how many demons lay hidden just outside the light of the television screen.

Twenty-one days after

"I still don't think this is a good idea."

"I remember when you used to like my plans," Leonardo grumbled fiddling with the arm strap around his shoulder that held what was left of his right arm close to his plastron. Donatello turned to him hands on hips and brown eyes glaring.

"That's not fair, Leo."

Immediately Leonardo felt guilty. Donatello had been nothing less than a saint these last twenty days and Leonardo knew he had been a less than optimal patient. Donatello had really done all he could with the family's limited supplies even after Raphael and Michelangelo went off to 'acquire' more and April and Casey had bought all they could.

"I'm sorry," Leonardo put his head down and closed his eyes taking a breath to center himself. "I'm sorry Donnie I just... I've just been..."

"I understand," Donatello came closer until he was just inches from Leonardo. He placed his hands softly on his brother's shoulders and held on even as the older turtle flinched slightly at the contact. "What happened has taken a toll... on all of us. We just want you to get better, bro. That's all. We want you to be okay."

I'm not going to be okay, Leonardo thought but said nothing.

"Now come on, we better get to the kitchen before Mikey eats all the food." Donatello rubbed his thumbs on his brother's shoulder before letter go to lead the older turtle out the door.

Together they walked slowly towards the kitchen. Leonardo could smell the aroma of pizza and it made him nauseous.

Inside the kitchen and sitting at the table were the rest of his family and Casey and April all in their usual seats. There were three boxes of pizza in the middle of the wooden table and plates set out already in front of each seat. As if it were a normal day, Casey and Raphael were having a very loud, very animated discussion about something Leonardo didn't care to listen to. Michelangelo was opening the fresh boxes of pizza not even glancing up as two of his older brothers walked in. Leonardo sat gingerly down after Donatello pulled his chair out, he then grabbed at his arm in his sling to hold against his chest more securely. April sat in front of him and smiled sweetly. Donatello took his seat. "Let's eat."

Leonardo sat back as he watched his family dine. It had never been a neat affair and now was no exception as his brothers dug into their favorite food. He found himself unable to get excited over the food only taking small bites and chewing slowly. He looked around the kitchen and out into the lair feeling like he hadn't seen it for so long. Logically he knew it hadn't been that long since he'd been hurt but after being cooped up in the Needle Room for so long anything outside those walls looks bright and caught his attention. He couldn't focus on any one thing as Casey and Raphael argued and Donatello and April held a conversation on the upcoming presidential election. All of the noises seemed to fall to background and Leonardo payed it little attention. He blinked trying to clear the blurriness from his eyes as he looked around the table. His family all seemed so happy, so normal. Michelangelo was quiet but that could be contributed to the food he had shoved in his mouth.

It was all very strange to him. The fact that everything felt so normal yet he knew it was not... Or maybe it was. Maybe this was their new normal and that thought scared the turtle. Even after twenty-one days it was still hard to accept.

Leonardo hissed as his arm lightly brushed against the side of the table. The sound around the table all quieted as everyone turned to him. "I'm fine," he said.

"I think it's time for more medicine," Donatello stood up from his seat. Beside him Michelangelo also got to his feet and Leonardo's heart started to beat a little harder in his chest. But when the orange turtle said nothing and slipped out of the kitchen Leonardo had to mask the hurt he felt tugging at his heart.

"I'm fine, Don. Just tired. Thanks for the meal April, but I think I'm just going to go to bed." And with that he stood up carefully.

"Here I'll help-"

"No," Leonardo snapped almost too forcefully at Donatello. "I mean, I-I can get upstairs on my own." Before anyone could call him back Leonardo turned swiftly – or as swiftly as he could – and stumbled away. His arm ached in tune with his heart beat as sweat collected above his mask and on his upper lip. Even though he had just been sitting down he felt the need to rest again as he neared the stone steps to the second level. Ignoring his body's urges he continued up the stairs looking down at each step as they came and went below his feet. With his head down Leonardo could see his arm in the sling and what a strange sight it was. Even after days of staring at it he still couldn't wrap his mind around the missing limb. The skin that was left under the bandage he knew looked ugly and scarred. Donatello was true to his word when he spoke of infection setting in during his first few days when he'd still been unconscious and hadn't known what lay ahead of him, how mangled his arm was. Leonardo envied his own ignorance.

A deep part of him was scared. Truly, rightfully frightened and honestly horrified. He could wield a sword with both of his hands but he was not ambidextrous. He drew and wrote and painted and worked mostly with his right but now it was gone. He would have to relearn all of the things he'd been taught in childhood over again only this time Master Splinter would not be here to teach him.

As Leonardo righted himself on the top step he forced his thoughts to the back of his mind. His feelings of guilt, the fear that he would no longer be able to protect his family, and every thought of Master Splinter got pushed and shoved until he locked it inside a box in his head to deal with never if he could help it.

Looking up from the ground Leonardo held back his shock when he saw Michelangelo just outside his door. The youngest turtle looked skittish and unsure as he stood there picking at his thumb nail. Leonardo hadn't seen much of Michelangelo since he got hurt and the youngest had spoken to him even less so he steeled himself pushing off from the wall and walking towards his room.

When he'd reached his door he waited for Michelangelo to speak. They were both about the same height with the orange banded turtle only having an inch or so on him. It was different than Raphael or Donatello who stood a foot or so taller than.

"Mikey," Leonardo said when the youngest just stood there. Michelangelo looked up at him then down to the ground and over to the side then up at him again. He looked everywhere but at the half of arm that Leonardo held so tightly to his chest. Leonardo swallowed. He could do this, he could talk about this. "Mike..."

Just then Michelangelo looked up at his brother before he let his eyes flicker down to his right arm. His blue eyes were glued as they widened as if this were the first time he's seen what was missing. Suddenly it dawned on Leonardo, "You-You're scared of me."

Michelangelo shook his head but not enough to seem like he was really denying anything. "No-no, I-"

"No, I get it..." Leonardo couldn't do it, he couldn't do this. He was no leader, he was broken. "I'm scared of myself too." And Leonardo turned away walking to his room. He shut the door with a click behind him and sat on his bed without bothering with turning on the lights. He sat in darkness where not even he could see himself cry.

The first tear came almost as a surprise but then the second one cascaded down his cheek. The third came willingly and suddenly Leonardo was sobbing. He fell sideways curling into himself and sobbed for everything he'd lost. For everything he could have been. He cried for his brothers and how he would not be able to protect them. He cried for his father who made him promise to always be the one to stand between his brothers and harm like a pillar of strength.

He cried for his brothers and he cried for himself.

Thirty-four days after

Rain pelted the rooftops, and wasn't that just typical? It was always raining on nights like this. Nights when simple patrols turned into deadly encounters with foes who outnumbered them. There was no moonlight as the cloudy sky covered up it rays making the night dark save for the random flashes of lightening that brightened the sky. Rain drops hit the roof splashing into puddles and creating small lakes. Below them street goers and passersby had no idea the standoff happening just above their heads as they scurried and scampered off towards their homes.

Four turtles stood one beside the other staring down the Purple Dragons in front of them. The street brawlers smirked and hit their various weapons against meaty hands as they stared down the family. Leonardo thought it odd that these gangsters had taken to the rooftops. Usually thugs like these liked to deal on the ground in back allies where get away cars could be stored. If Leonardo let himself think hard on it he couldn't remember how he'd even gotten to where he was now surrounded by his brothers and facing down the gang bangers in front of them. He doesn't remember calling for a patrol or even going Topside. He doesn't remember getting to where he is now feeling the rain hit his face and rush down his soaked body.

No one says anything, both sides continue their stand off and it makes Leonardo's skin itch. If he were any lesser trained ninja the fingers on his hands would jerk for the blades on his back as car horns below them sounded. But still, no one moves. Leonardo wants to call out a taunt and wonders why his brothers have yet to say anything. Usually it's Michelangelo who lets jokes roll off his tongue. Raphael fights most battles with biting remarks and witty sarcasm while Donatello just tries to match his brothers blow for blow while keeping up their loud rapport. Yet no one speaks and the rooftop that holds so many breathing bodies stays silent.

A flash of lightening brightens the sky and Leonardo decides he's had enough of this foolish waiting and takes off. His blades sing as he draws them from their sheaths on his back. His actions spur the others and as his right katana makes contact with a wooden club the battle explodes around him.

Blocking to the side, parry and thrust, Leonardo dances back then charges forward all in tune with the man in front of him. It was a messy fight as men, woman and turtles around the roof slip or slid on the slick rooftop. Oddly though it was quiet as just the sounds of weapons clanging and grunting could be heard. His brothers did not taunt and the Purple Dragons kept their snarky remarks to themselves. It was a true oddity.

Slicing through the man's belly in front of him, Leonardo didn't spare a glance as the gangster fell. With one flick the blood was gone from his right sword and he moved on to the next person who challenged him. He felt a giddy rush as he fought letting his battle hardened reflexes take hold of him. His body went into muscle memory while his mind brought up plans and strategies. If he moved right the woman in front of him could mirror leaving her left side unprotected. However the man who lunged at him to his left had access to his weaker side and he couldn't allow that. So Leonardo jumped finding no good solution and not about to risk getting his head bashed in just because he took on more than he could handle.

The Dragons twisted to him growling when he'd jumped to the side. They didn't waste a moment advancing on him with their knives, clubs, and chains held high.

"Leo!" A pained cry filled the air cutting through the silence and jarring Leonardo to his core. Sparing a quick glance away from his opponents he twisted his head to see Michelangelo sprawled out on the ground bleeding from his chest with a monstrous beast of a man peering down at him from above.

"Leo! Help!" Another outcry sounded catching his attention. It was not Michelangelo but Donatello bent over at the other side of the rooftop holding his leg as it lay at an awkward angle. The purple banded turtle's skin looked ashy and Dragons came slowly towards him. Leonardo kicked away the inconsequential people in front of him. His brain sprang to action to articulate who to run to first, which brother could he reach first? What was the bigger threat? Who was more hurt? What-

"L-Leo! Leo!" This time a scream lit up the night sky matching the lightening. Horrified, Leonardo faced the cry to see Raphael on his hands and knees twenty feet away, arm out stretched and palms up reaching for him desperately. A horde of bloodthirsty Purple Dragons behind him.

Terror gripped Leonardo's heart as it dropped through his stomach and landed somewhere between his knees. He couldn't let himself panic. If he panicked then he would help no one. He needed to keep focused and calm.

Taking a step towards his nearest brother, Leonardo heard something clink against the roof right next to his foot. He jumped slightly surprised he had let anyone get that close to him but there was no one there. Sparing just a second to look down he saw that his right blade lay soaked in a puddle at his feet. Leonardo growled at himself for dropping his weapon and without looking bent to pick it up and continue on. He took one step before realizing he did not have a sword in his hand and turned back to find it still on the ground. Again he bent to retrieve it but when he did his arm came into view and he gasped. Blood gushed from right under his elbow where there once was a forearm and hand now was nothing but a gnarled mess of bone and skin.

The rooftop grew silent as even the rain drops stopped making noise. Leonardo grabbed for his arm only to find that his left arm wouldn't do his bidding no matter how hard he tried to move it. It lay limp at his side still clutching his sword in a death grip that refused to unclench.

Thuds and thunks started to hit the roof startling Leonardo from his uncooperative body. He jerked around watching as limbs and body parts fell from the gangsters all around the rooftop. Arms detached from shoulders, legs fell from hips, necks splattered blood as heads rolled off shoulders. Bodies fell apart before his eyes as blood painted the roof turning the water red under his feet. People began to fall as the legs that once held them up were torn off by unseen forces. Shred marks appeared on chests and Leonardo watched in horror as guts spewed from the wounds. Those who still had their heads attached to their necks had their mouths open in silent screams.

He couldn't look away. He was going to be sick. Leonardo closed his eyes for only a moment and when he opened them he found himself the only one standing. All others had fallen unceremoniously onto the roof. Where were his brothers? Had they suffered the same fate? Where were their bodies? Leonardo took a step forward only to hear a hard thunk as his arm tore from his shoulder and feall to the bloody roof. Looking down at the limb made panic rise in Leonardo's throat. He felt himself shaking, he couldn't move, he was bleeding. Where were his brothers? Where was his family?

Leonardo screamed.

And he kept screaming until someone touched him and he bolted upright opening his eyes and diving for his swords.

"Whoa, whoa, Leo calm down! It was a dream, a dream bro!" Someone yelled in his face. Leonardo stopped thrashing as pain ran up his side and over his chest. He whimpered falling back into his bed and clutching at his injured arm. Raphael came closer getting down on one knee and placing a hand on to Leonardo's hip to calm him. Leonardo jerked away as soon as his brother's warm hand made contact. He grit his teeth to stop from whimpering as another wave of agony seared from his right arm. He must've hit in during his nightmare.

"You're alright, bro," Raphael reassured him to which Leonardo ignored in favor of clenching his eyes shut and burying his face into his pillow. "Imma go get Donnie so he can-"

"No," Leonardo said roughly opening his eyes when the majority of pain started to melt away to a dull ache. "I'm fine. Don't get Don. What time is it?"

"About two-thirty in the morning. I heard you yellin' from my room." The again was laced deep in his throat but Raphael bit it back. This wasn't his older brother's first nightmare and it wouldn't be his last. "I really think Don should take a look at cha, make sure you didn't tear anything or-"

"No," Leonardo answered firmly getting himself under control. He was shaky and sweaty and his arm throbbed but he didn't need to wake another brother in the middle of the night. He was fine and even if he wasn't he could lie like the best of them.

Raphael huffed running a hand over his mask-less face roughly as he sat back on his heels. "Why don't I just sit in here until you go ta sleep-"

"No." Leonardo took a breath. "I'm fine."

"Ya know, I'm gettin' real tired of you interrupting me."

"I'm fine Raphael. It was just a dream and now I'm tired. Please leave." He knew he was being an ass but he couldn't stop himself. He felt cold and hot at the same time. His skin itched too tight against his bones. Behind his eyelids he could still see limbs scattering rooftops. He felt like he wanted to punch something and scream but also like he wanted to sit in a faraway corner and cry.

Raphael stared at his brother for the longest moment before getting up and walking out closing the door behind himself without a word.

Darkness engulfed Leonardo and wished that this whole thing was just another dream that he would wake up from kicking and screaming.

Forty-two days after

"Alright, let's see how it looks." Donatello whispered more to himself than to Leonardo who lay prone on the same bed he'd been confined to only a few weeks earlier. Raphael stood at the door with his hip cocked against the panel while April and Casey stood off to the side far enough away to stay out of the way yet close to jump in to help if needed. Leonardo didn't know where Michelangelo was and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't sense his youngest brother's presence. A voice whispered to him in the back of his head that he shouldn't care that his brother hadn't spoken to him since that night he was released from the Needle Room, but that voice was small and the hurt was too great.

The sound of tape tearing and bandages ripping filled the silent room and Leonardo looked away. Donatello expertly peeled off the bandage just as he'd done so many times previously but this time was different. This time it was coming off and would stay off.

"It looks really good, bro. No infection and..." April detached herself from Casey to walk over helping Donatello assess the injury. She stood behind him taking away the soiled bandages to dispose of in the trash.

"Tha' looks real good," Casey lifted his chin to get a better look at Leonardo's arm. Leonardo wished the floor would swallow him whole to take him away from this. Donatello grabbed a wet cloth from the lab table beside him then proceeded to wipe down his arm.

"It's actually quite incredible, our healing capability. I mean, I knew we healed at a more accelerated rate than that of humans or even turtles but this is really good, Leo. The amputation looks very good."

Leonardo let his arm be washed and moved around and maneuvered without saying a word. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes leaning back against the bed his brother tried so hard to make comfortable. Behind his eyes stung fiercely with every word Donatello spoke.

He didn't care that the wound looked great or good or passable. He didn't care that it was a clean cut. He didn't care that there was no infection. He didn't care about any of it. The thoughts of all he couldn't do flooded his mind just as it had done for weeks. The darkness seeped into his heart seizing it and leaking out until his whole body felt too heavy.

He couldn't hold two things at once anymore. He couldn't wield his twin katana. He couldn't lead his clan. He couldn't protect his family. And that's what hurt the most. It wasn't the aches or the sharp pains. It wasn't Michelangelo's disappearing act. It wasn't the empty pit in his stomach or the fact that he couldn't seem to get his body balanced while he walked. It wasn't any of that – it was the protection. He couldn't protect his family anymore. He couldn't fulfill his duty. He was the Leader who couldn't lead. The broken brother. Leonardo shivered.

"You cold bro? Hold on, I'll get you a blanket," Donatello smiled down at him and Leonardo wished he could sink through the bed and never stop.

Fifty-seven days after

The first time Leonardo touched his swords it was one at a time and it was just to move them. They were in the way, or that's what he told himself as he shuffled one blade to the back of his room where the rest of his weapons were kept. For the longest time they had been resting against the wall in their sheaths where he always kept them. In a place that was easy to access and would be quick to grab at a moment's notice. But he didn't need them now. No one went Topside anymore, not even Raphael. Michelangelo might venture to the Human world, Leonardo wouldn't know if he did or not since he never saw him and they spoke even less.

Donatello had managed to work out a system with April in order to get food and supplies down to the lair without actually having to leave. Casey and April had been down in their home almost every day for the last month and a half bringing movies and food and other necessities along with gossip from April's store. Angel had come down once and Leonardo had smiled at her with tight lips, accepted her hug, then slipped back to his room to light an incense and lay in his bed in the dark. A few days after for about five minutes Leonardo had entertained the idea of calling Usagi, asking him to come to their dimension so they could talk and maybe even meditate – something Leonardo had been unable to do in the last month. But then he had decided better of it. He felt too ashamed and Usagi would probably call this karma anyways, for being a dishonorable ninja and not a sacred samurai. His rabbit friend would look at him differently when he knew that he was no longer the fighter he once was.

Thoughts kept streaming into Leonardo's head as he moved his other sword to the back to sit with its twin. What would Master Splinter say, he wondered. He thought about what the old rat would do if their positions were reversed or if he was even still around. He'd probably tell him that he needed to find himself again, needed to get that spark lit inside his body once more to light his insides in order to stave off the darkness inside of him. Splinter might even have a tale or three about how he knew of a ninja who had lost an arm, a leg, or both eyes. He would tell him that he could get through this and that this wasn't the thing that brought about the end.

But Splinter wasn't around anymore. He was gone, long dead and the calming words of his ghost had no effect on Leonardo.

Keeping his arm pressed to his side he let his sword fall to the floor with a clang. He felt a twinge in his right arm and brought it up. He no longer needed a heavy bandage to cover the torn flesh but just as a precaution Donatello had insisted on him wearing the equivalent of a white sock on his arm. Sure, he knew it wasn't really a sock but some medical sleeve meant to encourage blood flow and keep circulation strong or whatever it was Donatello had told him.

Leonardo shifted back until the backs of his knees hit his bed then he slowly sunk down still looking at his arm. For the first time since getting April and Donatello had taken off the bandage Leonardo felt the urge to take off the white cloth, to look at his arm. He's had the urge to look at the amputation before but never a need this strong. Before he had been indifferent at best and horrified at worst. Now, however he ignored his feelings and slowly rolled the soft white cotton fabric down his arm starting from just below his shoulder and down. He took the cloth off then set it aside gently and took in the sight of his arm really looking at it for the first time.

Running his hand over the remaining inches of forearm he had just below his elbow he was actually slightly surprised that he couldn't feel his own touch. It was numb to the pads of his fingers. He ran them over his skin thinking how strange it was that he knew, could see, his fingers rubbing along just under his elbow but could feel nothing. He dared not finger the end of his amputated area for it was still tender to touch even with his advanced healing. Donatello had told him it would be at least another three months or so before the pain went away and six to ten months before the tenderness started to fade. He also told Leonardo, during one of his many checkups, that there was an eighty-nine point three percent probability that he'd never get feeling back into the skin on his arm.

The skin around the meaty newly healed area was discolored, a sort of off green that went along with the scars that littered his body. It was a yellow-white that stood out against his green skin starkly before mellowing out and becoming less noticeable. He licked his lips looking at his arm intensely focused on what wasn't there.

He wished he could just wake up from this horrible dream and it would be better. He wished he could get a prosthetic that could serve as a new arm, hold his weight and grip his swords. He wished... Leonardo shoot his head. Wishing was useless. This was life now. This was it.

Without bothering to put the sleeve back on, Leonardo lay back on his sheets holding his arm close and closing his eyes feeling tears wet the sides. He curled up on his left side and held himself as he cried silent tears.

Seventy-nine days after

Leonardo did not attend meals anymore. It wasn't something that was sudden or noticeable, really. It was slow and deliberate. First it started with coming to dinner late then not eating much. Donatello would mention something about him needing to keep up his strength and Raphael would glare at him from over his food and April would gently rub his left hand like a parent soothing a child. Still, Leonardo would claim he wasn't hungry, just tired. Always tired. Casey would wisely stay silent whilst Michelangelo wouldn't even look up from his plate. After the lateness it turned into skipping one meal a week. Claiming he was busy or would pretend not to hear the call for dinner. Even going so far as to feign sleep when someone came knocking at his door. It wasn't that he did not want to be around his family, well it was partially that, but mostly it was that he felt useless. He no longer had a place.

Donatello made things. He created the gadgets and scraped together the Battle Shell. He put formulas together to get the security system up and running. He was the inventor, the innovator, the one who could build or fix anything and everything. Raphael was the brawn. The tank, the muscle, the one who jumped in first and kicked others out of the way. Sure, he was a hothead but he also would just as easily take a bullet for all of his brothers because that's who he was. He was the muscle of their clan. Their powerhouse. Michelangelo was the jokester but also the nourisher. He was the one who broke the tension and provided the family with sustenance. Since the day he made his first bowl of pasta when they were eight and Splinter had allowed them to use the oven he'd scavenged. Ever since Michelangelo had provided the food, provided the strength to practice and survive and live. He brought food with them on Topside runs stuffed into the small pockets of his belt or behind his shell just in case. It was small things that he did that made such a big difference. He provided the food and by extension, provided them to live and thrive in their underground home.

That was their roles... and where did they leave Leonardo? He could not build, he'd shocked his fingers trying to operate even the toaster. He couldn't bake, Michelangelo had banned him from cooking when they were fifteen and he'd set the oven top on fire. He couldn't protect his family. He was useless.

So, Leonardo slowly melted away. Closing the door to his room and not really coming out. A cloud as dark as Splinter's death covered the lair. Outside Leonardo's room he could hear his brother's moving around but just barely. It didn't seem like anyone spoke loudly anymore. Raphael didn't yell at his punching bag. Michelangelo didn't cheer at his games. Donatello didn't curse his experiments when they blew up in his face. It was all solemn and dark and quiet in the home that used to bustle with noise.

Leonardo stared up at the ceiling fingering his right arm and thinking about what it would've been like if the Shredder had severed his head instead of his arm.

One hundred and two days after

A knock at his door awoke Leonardo sometime in the early afternoon. He stirred looking at the door and seeing the shadow of feet underneath the crack. Idly he wondered who could be calling on him and entertained the notion of getting up to see but that thought was fleeting and he stayed where he was ignoring the person like he'd been doing the past few weeks. He didn't leave his room much anymore and allowed visitors in even less. Donatello sometimes begged him to be able to take a look-see at his amputation to ensure it was healing alright but even that excuse had grown old and Leonardo had caught on that it was just that – an excuse to see him. To ensure he was still alive in his room. And he felt ashamed. He felt like he'd officially failed not only his brothers and Master Splinter's memory but also himself. He couldn't face his brothers being the broken shard he was. They didn't deserve to be around him and his stump of an arm, his disability, his reason for hiding. Leonardo looked down at the stump below his elbow and sighed sitting back to lean his shell against the cold wall and placing his eyes back down on the book he'd already memorized cover to cover.

Then, the strangest thing happened. The door to his room began to open. Slowly, tentatively. Light from the lair seeped into the candle lit room. It grabbed Leonardo's attention in an instant making him stiffen. No one had ever entered his room without expressed permission and in turn he did not go into his brothers rooms without acknowledgment. None of the rooms had locks, Splinter hadn't believed in them. The old rat did not think that any room should be locked and once the brothers became of age to have their own room with doors they needed to understand that there was no locking each other out in this household – sewerhold, as Michelangelo had joked.

Speaking of the orange turtle, Leonardo's mouth dropped open minutely as the light green of his hand came around to hold the door just above the handle. His face came into view a moment later, his eyes blue and mouth in a tight line. "L-Leo? Can I come in...? Please?"

He could feel his eyes widening in further surprise as the brother who had avoided him, hadn't even spoke to him since that night after dinner came fully into his room without waiting for an answer. Leonardo did not offer a seat in his desk chair nor did he move from his spot as Michelangelo walked slowly into his room leaving the door open – a clear and fast escape route.

Leonardo really took in his brother's features. He looked skinnier than last he'd seen him. His muscles were smaller, at testament to too much couch sitting and not enough katas. His eyes were bloodshot making the blues stand out unnaturally against his green skin and orange mask. His face that lit with so many smiles now frowned as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

Silence filled the air. Even the water running through the piles above their heads seemed muted.

It was awkward, Leonardo realized, and he had never felt awkward around Michelangelo before. He had felt joy and happiness and exasperation and annoyance but never awkward. Finally Leonardo, once the picture of patience but now at the end of his rope, spoke.

"What do you want?" His voice was hard making Michelangelo flinch slightly. A small, tiny bit of Leonardo felt pleased at the response because Michelangelo didn't get to do this. He did not get to ignore him for months then waltz into his room to stare at him. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Michelangelo pursed his lips nodding his head. "I, uh, I wanted to talk to you." Then he was quiet again. Leonardo let the silence ride waiting for him to continue, when he didn't Leonardo mentally sighed.

"Then talk," he ordered dully. Michelangelo flinched again biting at his lip and nervously twitching his fingers at his sides.

"So, uh, we haven't really talked much since your – since it happened... Raph told me, well he more like threatened me to come talk to you. Not that I didn't really want to talk to you but Raph kinda cornered me a few days ago and... It was super shocking 'cause I would'a thought it'd be Donnie commin' to get me to tell me to talk to you..." Michelangelo was rambling but Leonardo let it happen just sitting still and listening. "It's not like you made it too easy to talk to you anyways, right? I mean you've been in your room and whatnot forever it feels like and we don't go Topside no more but I guess that makes sense since you're still hurt and all..."

If possible the atmosphere in the room gets even more awkward. The walls seem to grow smaller, it's suddenly claustrophobic. Leonardo starts to feel overwhelmed by his brother's words. After months of not really speaking to anyone and only listening to his radio on occasion his youngest brother's stilted speech is grating against his nerves. He wishes he would just get to the point already.

"What do you want, Michelangelo?" The question seems to take the orange turtle off guard. His eyes grow wider before he closes them and deflates letting all the air out of his body. He sags in a way Leonardo has never seen and for the first time in months it makes the older turtle's heart clench in worry. The notion to preserve and protect his brothers was so ingrained in his head that seeing the defeated stance before him made his stomach sick with worry.

Michelangelo licked his lips and turned his head until he was slightly bowed in front of Leonardo. Then he whispered almost too quiet to hear.

"It was my fault. You said Mike you're on me and I was supposed to be but..." He looked up at his older brother finally opening his eyes. Leonardo could see tears glisten before one trickled down his face disappearing into his mask. Michelangelo sniffled shaking his head but kept speaking now looking Leonardo right in the eye.

"I was supposed to have your back and I didn't... This is my fault." His voice caught at the end and Michelangelo folded in on himself as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. He looked defeated and scared. "I-I couldn't face you after that and I'm so sorry Leo. I'm so sorry I wasn't fast enough. I'm s-so s-sorry."

Michelangelo started to sob, his whole frame shaking with each outtake of breath.

Shame. Leonardo felt shame as he looked at his brother. Not shame for the tears but for himself. He had done this. If he hadn't closed himself off to his family Michelangelo and him might've had the chance to talk to one another before it got this bad.

"Mike..." Leonardo breathed slowly. "It's-it's not your fault." That snapped the orange turtle out of his emotions.

"How can you say that, bro? How can you say this isn't my fault? Splinter taught us that-that when we go into a f-fight that your brother will always have your back a-and you better always have your brothers b-b-backs... and I didn't," a cry escaped his mouth. "I got distracted. I was havin' fun and jumping around and not paying attention and I didn't see you go down. I wasn't there for you and... and your a-arm."

Tears leaked from his eyes as he cast his brilliant blues at Leonardo's stump. Without meaning to, Leonardo covered the disfigured end with his left feeling self-conscience.

It took a few minutes but finally Michelangelo gulped in some deep breaths to calm himself down. Leonardo hadn't moved from his place on his bed. The younger turtle swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth audibly before centering himself like he'd seen Leonardo do right before a difficult kata. He brought his head up once more. His voice was steady as he spoke. "I couldn't face you. Every time I saw you, saw your arm, I just... I froze. I'm sorry, Leo."

Then there was silence. It made Leonardo feel uncomfortable, his skin prickled feeling too tight and itchy across his body. His breathing quickened. He clenched his teeth as a dizzying wave washed through him. The silence was deafening as the two turtles stared at each other. After what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes Leonardo cleared his throat.

"Leave. Please, Mikey. I just want to be alone right now."

"But Leo-" Michelangelo jumped forward a step only to be stopped when Leonardo held up his left hand.

"No, Mike. You've said your piece and now I just need time to think."

"O-okay bro." Taking a tentative step back, Michelangelo nodded his head looking more like a kicked puppy than Leonardo had ever seen. "Okay."

He walked out the door closing it behind himself without another word.

Leonardo felt his chest tighten as anger flooded his veins. His skin still itched terribly and the pit in his stomach opened up until he felt he would implode on himself. He picked up his book still sitting on his lap and threw it against the wall in frustration feeling the tiniest bit of pleasure when the hard cover slammed against the stone wall and spilled to the floor in a heap. He jumped from the bed feeling his heart in his throat and tears sting his eyes. The walls felt suffocating small, caving in on him. His room made his head spin and he hated it. He didn't feel in control of himself. He brought his hands up to hold his head only remembering at the last moment that he only had one hand. He looked down at the stump feeling his head grow heavy. Distantly, he knew he needed to calm down, he was having a panic attack but he couldn't. He couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried to pull air into his lungs. He couldn't make a sound. He felt his legs buckle from under him and he fell barely managing to catch himself with his left hand as he hit his knees bruising the bones. He choked again letting himself down on to the hard ground gently curing up on his side. His whole body hurt, he felt panicked and dizzy and he knew he was going to throw up. Leonardo closed his eyes thinking about anything his panicking mind would allow.

He didn't know why his thoughts trailed back to the book and how elegantly his had dropped to the floor after slamming into the wall. He knew the spine was most likely cracked and broken now in the heap it lay in. His book was no longer the perfect condition he had painstakingly tried to keep all his books in. It was ruined, just like him.

An image of the drainage juncture flitted through his mind and Leonardo forced himself to center on that. On the high steel walkways and loud running water. The way the water swirled when it reached the center and was sucked under the current and swept off. It was calming imagining the water flowing down and rushing away to somewhere else, anywhere else.

Opening his eyes, Leonardo felt himself relax thinking about that junction and the possibilities that went along with it. He thought about it until he felt exhaustion droop his eyes and he closed them intending to let his eyes rest for only a second.

It was sometime later that Leonardo woke. He stood up carefully having perfected the act of getting up and steadying himself with only one arm long ago. He felt sick to his stomach and dizzy. The image of the juncture still sat in his head like a weight bringing him down. He could still see the water so clearly, feel the cold metal and smell the New York City sewage that clustered around the edges of the giant basin of water. Even after shaking his head to clear it he couldn't get the image to go away. He couldn't deny the pull that propelled him to go to it. To watch as the water disappeared, to forget about everything that had happened, to step up to the edge of the grate, to hop on top of the frigid steel, to let himself fall…

The room still felt too small for Leonardo. His arm ached in a familiar way that called for pain medication. Usually Leonardo would reject it, tell himself he was above such simple medicine – but what was the point? All his mental prowess hadn't stopped the Shredder. He had been trained to handle a lot of things but never this. Never the loss of his dominant hand. It made Leonardo shiver breaking out into a cold sweat. His body pleaded for relief that only pills would allow and so, he gave in.

Walking to the door he cursed under his breath calling himself a coward, he shouldn't be scared to walk around his own home. He should not be frightened to exit his own room. Yet he had certain trepidations. Michelangelo, for one, he did not want to meet. He needed time to think and now was not the time to rehash everything again. Leonardo grit his teeth opening his door, wincing at the bright lights of the lair shocking his sensitive eyes, then closing the door behind him.

The lair was quiet, not one the TV's in the corner played. Donatello who usually had music playing from his lab as he worked was quiet. Leonardo could see the door was open and light lit the room. Leonardo tore his eyes away from the lab, he knew there was pain killers above the sink in the bathroom.

His feet padded the floor echoing off the walls as he made his way to the bathroom. He was almost there when the door opened abruptly and Raphael came around the corner just about running into the blue banded turtle but catching himself at the last second.

"Leo!" He gasped in surprise not having seen his brother outside of his room for the past few weeks. Leonardo held back his sigh trying to maneuver around him but stopped as Raphael mirrored his attempts. "What's wrong? Do ya need something?"

"Medicine," Leonardo grumbled tightly. He saw Raphael's eyes run over him taking in his figure and searching for any injuries other than the obvious. It made Leonardo's haunches rise as his brother looked him over with his eyes so soft and accepting. This wasn't the Raphael he'd known all his life. The one who bitched and curse and used the only weapons that forced the enemy to get in close so when he slit their throats blood splashed over his face as well. The Raphael that stood in front of him now was... nicer? Always asking if Leonardo needed anything, keeping his anger in check, not blowing up, Leonardo didn't even think he'd stormed out of the lair at all since their fight with the Shredder. Raphael had been helpful and understanding and gracious and thoughtful and Leonardo wanted to slam his good fist into his face.

Raphael seemed nervous. "I could get it for you-"

Then Leonardo exploded because no, no, he was done with all of this pity.

"Stop treating me like glass!"

"Then stop actin' like yer gonna break!" Raphael yelled loudly and suddenly surprising Leonardo enough that he took a step back.

"I'm-I'm not," Leonardo stampeded crossing his arms more to hide his missing hand than from stubbornness.

"Yes you are." Raphael lowered his voice down from a yell but he was still loud, louder than Leonardo had heard in months. He pursed his lips and tightened his hands into fists trying to suppress some of his anger. "You walk around here like a ghost, you don't train no more. Shell, you haven't even touched your blades in months. Come on bro, we want to help but we can't do that if you don't let us!"

"I don't need help," Leonardo felt his voice shaking. "I need to be left alone."

"We've done that," Raphael countered quickly seething rage that he couldn't fight back starting to rise. Why couldn't Leonardo understand they were all just trying to help? The lair had become a ghost town. No one had been Topside in months. They didn't patrol, they didn't scavenge, they didn't do anything but sit around the lair licking their wounds and staring at Leonardo's closed door! Raphael growled for the first time.

Distantly Leonardo felt glad he could finally get this reaction out of his brother. The thoughtful, pitying little brother didn't suit him.

"We've given you your space. Hell, Donnie bought books and shit and fucking Googled how to deal with you and we've done everythin' we can with you ignoring us! I ain't settin' food outside yer door no more just to come back to see it half eaten, if that. We've let you be on yer own and hide in your damn room and it's time to stop this, Leonardo. It's time to get yer head out of yer ass and buck the fuck up! Master Splinter wouldn't have approved you hiding away in her room like some coward."

As soon as the words left his mouth Raphael knew he hadn't said the right thing. Complete opposite. By the way Leonardo looked at him with eyes big and round with betrayal and heartbreak spreading across his face he knew that he'd just fucked up.

"Well," Leonardo whispered, voice rough like rubbing sandpaper. "Master Splinter isn't here anymore so I guess it doesn't matter what he would have thought."

Without another word Leonardo clamped his mouth shut, swallowed and turned on his heal.

"Wait... Leo, I didn't mean that." Raphael put his hand out trying to stop his brother. "I'm sorry just-" but Leonardo didn't stop. He continued to his room closing the door softly with a click. The click was almost louder than a slam and Raphael sank to his knees letting his head hit back against the wall.

"What are we gonna do with you, Leo?" He muttered to no one.

One hundred and twelve days after

The night was a cold one as frigid air seeped through the sewer walls and frosted the pipes that pushed water all through the city. Above ground the street walking humans pulled jackets tighter across their bodies attempting to conserve body heat as the first few soft flakes of snow drifted down from the darkening sky. It was supposed to be a blizzard, that's what the meteorologists claimed and were backed by the Farmer's Almanac. It would be a bad winter with negative chills the likes of which hadn't been seen in New York in years. But none of that mattered now as children ran through the streets enshrouded in their layered coats and mittens laughing and chasing after one another stopping intermittently every few feet to drop down to grab a handful of snow to pack together before throwing. The older humans were already safely tucked inside their homes wrapped in blankets or each other or both. Not having a care of the temperature outside.

The wind blows, it cuts through everything and chills Leonardo to the bone. His arm aches terribly as he holds it close. He shivers bringing his blanket closer around his broad shoulders and holding it closed with his left hand. Now would usually be the time when Donatello brings out his heaters into the living room and all four brothers drag their mattresses down to create a warm turtle-pile in order to keep each other from freezing in the cold lair. Leonardo wonders if his brothers had brought their beds down already, he hadn't heard anything. He also hadn't left his room to check in the last few days. He can't bring himself to move from his bed.

The argument with Raphael and Michelangelo all within a few hours of each other still feels fresh in his mind. He feels hurt, alone and tired. No matter how many hours he sleeps he feels tired. He sleeps but it's restless and he wakes with silent screams on the cusp of his lips. It's a terrible cycle of nightmares and loneliness and he knows it's really all his fault. This isolation is self-inflicted and he's started to regret shutting everyone and everything out.

Another gust of cold air hits Leonardo and finally he cannot take it anymore. The drive to be free of his room catapults him to his feet letting his blanket falls from his shoulders, he lets it drift to the floor and land in a mess. He walks to the door fingers ready to throw it open when he stops. What is he going to do? Where will he go? He can't just sit around the lair anymore. He can't face his brothers without feeling guilt and he can't stay in his room, so where does he go from here?

The drainage junction flashes through his mind and he latched on forcing himself not to think, just to move.

Opening the door is loud but he doesn't care. He needs to leave. He needs to go, go, go.

Leonardo debates on jumping down to the second level but his body is so unused to the athletic flips and turns he'd used to do that he thinks better of it and decides on the steps. He silently hopes he won't cross paths with any of his siblings as he pads to the door. He reaches the latch to open the metal door when he hears someone clear their throat behind him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Donatello asks with his hands on his hips and eyes observing his older brother with scrutiny.

Leonardo turns slightly before he grunts, "Out."

"Out where?"

"For a walk," Leonardo lied.

"And do you think that maybe you should tell someone that you were planning on leaving?"

"No."

"No?"

A long pause. "No."

"Are you planning on coming back after your walk?"

"No."

"No?"

"...No," Leonardo whispered before turning on his heal and opening the door.

"God Damnit Leo!" Donatello yelled cursing for the first time Leonardo has ever heard. He flinched but doesn't turn back instead taking a step outside the lair for the first time in months.

"Just leave me be, Don." He throws over his shoulder.

"Come on bro, just go back to your room-" but the door is shut in his face and Donatello is left staring at the closed door with a gobsmacked expression twisting his mouth. Leonardo had just walked out. Leonardo had walked out.

"What happened?!" Michelangelo came out of his room at the sound of Donatello's yelling voice echoing around the lair. Raphael also appeared from the elevator that led to the garage. Both brothers quickly descended on Donatello who couldn't tear his eyes off the closed door in front of him.

"What's goin' on?" Raphael demanded. Michelangelo looked slightly bleary eyed, as if he'd just woken up.

"Leo. He-he left."

"What?" Michelangelo squeaked eyes snapping into full clarity. "Well let's go! We gotta go get him!" He took a step towards the door when Raphael stopped him with an arm on his shoulder. "Wait, Mike."

"What do you mean wait?" The orange turtle looked angry tearing his shoulder away from Raphael's grip. "If it were one of us Leo would be chasing after in a second, dude."

"I don't think all of us should go after him," Donatello sighed then deflated eyes closing tiredly. Raphael nodded to him and Michelangelo saw the truth in his words.

"I'll go," Raphael grunted. "You two stay here and hold down the fort. I'll go get him."

Michelangelo wanted desperately to go but he also knew he didn't have the right after ignoring his eldest brother for so long. Donatello seemed wary but nodded.

"Here," a ShellCell was thrown at him which he caught easily. "Use the tracker. Leo should have his belt on so it'll work."

"Wait, you got a tracker on 'im?"

"Oh don't feel too jealous Raphie, I've got one on you as well. Just a little precaution."

"You're one slick turtle, Donnie."

"Tell me something I don't know. Now get on before you two freeze to death."

Raphael smiled a true smile for the first time in a long while. "Can do."

"And Raph?" He turned looking over his shoulder at Donatello. "Try to bring our brother home, will you?"

He said nothing. Just grunted and walked out.

It actually didn't take too long to find Leonardo after Raphael ruled out going Topside. He knew Leonardo wasn't stupid enough go above ground after months of inactivity and only one good arm. He tried not to use the tracker but after thirty minutes of wandering around in the sewers a thought finally struck him and he ran off towards the drainage juncture he remembered Leonardo liked to go off to sit and stare at the water when he got stressed and meditation proved fruitless.

Rounding a corner the pit Raphael didn't even know was eating away in his stomach subsided as he spotted his older brother. He was hunched with his feet dangling off a high catwalk above the water. His right arm was cradled against his plastron, Raphael could see him slowly rubbing the discolored amputation. Leonardo leaned against the bars that seemed to be the only thing stopping him from spilling over the edge and ending up in the fast churning water below.

"Man, it's fuckin' freezin' down here," was the first thing he said as he sat down next to his brother. Leonardo closed his eyes taking a breath before opening them again.

"How'd you find me?" he asked. Raphael shrugged.

"Wasn't too hard ta be honest. This was where ya used to run off to when we was kids. Thought I'd check it out and here you are lookin' like yer thinking about doin' something stupid."

Leonardo closed his eyes again letting his head drop to the metal support pipe in front of his face. They were both silent for a time as the water below rushed and cold seeped into their bodies from the fringed metal they sat on. Raphael was in no hurry. He knew Leonardo's would talk when he was ready.

"How many ninja or even Purple Dragons do you think we've maimed?" Leonardo questioned cutting off the silence.

"Leo," Raphael shook his head looking at his brother. "You can't-"

"Raph," Leonardo jerked up until his back was straight and fire danced in his eyes. It was a fire Raphael had thought he'd never see again. "How many? We-we charge in places slicing and dicing, how many do you think I've hurt but didn't kill. Cut off their limbs but kept their vitals in check. It's karma, Raphael. Karma."

Karma. Do good things, good things happen to you. Do bad and the opposite is true. Raphael really thought about it for a moment. Could it be that this was karma coming back to bite them in the ass?

...No. It wasn't. They'd stopped too many robberies and fought too many rapists and gangsters and dickheads in their lifetimes for this to be karma. They were the good guys.

"This ain't fuckin' karma. It was a lucky strike and some sharp blades. That's all. Wrong place, wrong time." It was the honest to God truth. Leonardo sagged against the catwalk's frame.

"Sometimes…" Leonardo began not looking at the red banded turtle. "Sometimes I dream about practicing in the dojo with Master Splinter. All of us are there and he's really running us into the ground with kata's and it's so hard but we're all doing our best. I dream that we're all practicing and Mikey is laughing and Don's complaining and you're cursing and I'm whole and not this broken thing that I am now..." He trails off. "And those are the dreams I wake up from and all I can do is cry. It's not the ones where Shredder is sawing off my arm or killing you three in front of me. It's the dreams where I'm whole and we're all happy."

"You're not broken." Raphael implores. "Yer banged up all to hell but not broken, bro. This ain't your fault. This ain't were it ends."

Leonardo shrugged, "If this isn't my fault, Raph, then whose is it?" That made Raphael pause, he turned to face his brother practically seeing the gears turning in his head.

"I killed him, ya know."

"Who?" Leonardo questioned not being able to conjure up a person Raphael could have slain in the past five months.

"Shredder. Shoved my sai through his chest and stomach. You were on the ground, you were bleedin' everywhere and all I could think of was that you were hurt and Shredder was coming for you again so I killed him."

Honestly, Leonardo hadn't thought of Oroku Saki in a long time. He knew it had been him who cut off his arm but he never really let his mind wonder back to that night, back to that moment. He had thought a lot about the minutes before and the blurry seconds after but ever really of the blades that sang through the air slicing off his hand. His mind had blocked it off telling him it was a no-go area and he had been content with that.

"That's who's responsible for this. That's whose fault this all his. Not yers or Mike's or mine or Don's. I wanted to tell you earlier that Saki was dead but you were in your room…"

"I thought that if I was alone I could deal with this on my own. I wouldn't drag you all down with me." The blue banded turtle took a breath finally letting out the secret he'd been holding far too long.

Raphael raised an eye ridge, "And how is all that dealing on your own nonsense going?"

"Pretty crappy actually." Leonardo chuckled humorlessly. "I'm scared," he admits eyes focused on the stream of water flowing underneath him.

Raphael leans back away from the pipes holding them on the catwalk. "Of what? Dying?"

"No... Of outliving everyone. Of being the last brother."

"You shouldn't be scared of living, Leo."

"I'm not scared of living, I'm scared of surviving." Two different things entirely. Raphael nodded his head slowly understanding what his brother was saying. It had crossed his mind too many times as well. What they did, what their job was, it was hard not to think about death. One slip and one of them could be gone. Splinter was gone and though his loss was scabbed over it still felt raw on the odd occasion that something would happen or someone would say something that reminded one of them of their father. What they did was dangerous but they had each other's backs. They knew how to fight and how to defend and that's what the difference was between them and the Foot or even the Purple Dragons – they were a family.

"We're supposed to take care of each other." Raphael whispered just loud enough to be heard above the water. "You don't have to do this on your own. When we fight, we fight together. We live together, we train together, and when we all die it's going to be together. No turtle left behind."

Leonardo turned to him with tears glistening in his eyes. His lips trembled fiercely. He was shaking, his eyes looking terrified, so unsure of himself that it stuck a nerve in Raphael and he two felt tears well in his own eyes.

"I don't want to let you guys down. I'm supposed to be the leader." A sob escaped his mouth as the last word fell and Raphael reached for his brother dragging him over and securing his arms around him tightly. Leonardo cried into his brother's shoulder hard feeling his body rack with sobs. It hurt Raphael to see his brother like this but at the same time he knew this was something that had to happen. Hell, this should've happened months ago. They should have talked and cried and been there for each other instead of tiptoeing around and letting the family fall so far apart.

"You'll always be the leader, Leo. No matter what happens," Raphael mumbled into Leonardo's bald head when the sobs had subsided into sniffles. "But how about you let us take the load, okay? You don't gotta do this on yer own no more."

Shifting to look up at his younger brother, Leonardo wiped at his nose. "H-how am I going to fight? How can I-"

"Please, Leo," Raphael interrupted. "You think Don and April have been sittin' on their asses all this time? They got tons of techie shit put together to help you. I think they've just been waitin' until yer ready."

"I... I don't know if I'll ever be ready to go Topside again." Leonardo admitted in a breathy murmur. He was surprised when Raphael drew him back into a hug and kissed his forehead like he'd used to do to his younger brothers when they were kids.

"That's alright. We're going to take this one step at a time and we're going to do it together. The four of us."

Leonardo leaned into Raphael and chucked this time with humor. "Don't forget about April and Casey."

The chuckling was contagious as Raphael broke out in a grin. "Course not, how could I forget about that bone head."

Smiling Leonardo shivered feeling his teeth rattle. If possible it had gotten even colder.

"Come on," Raphael got to his feet carefully extending an arm down to his brother. "Let's go home."

And Leonardo took his hand.

One year after

It did get better, as all things do, with time.

Leonardo healed and his brothers stayed with him every step. There were still draw backs, as there always would be. Learning to live missing a limb was a nasty business but Leonardo kept his faith that his family would always be there to help him, to pick him up when he fell, and they were. When Leonardo would cry out in the night one or all of the brothers would show up at his door letting themselves in and crawling into bed to wrap their brother in their protective arms until Leonardo's breaths evened out and he fell back to sleep curled into their sides.

Donatello, true to Raphael's word, had put together attachments to go on the end of Leonard's right arm. He'd made claws and sword extensions but Leonardo liked the metal cuff the most. It protected the end of his stump and he knew it would come in handy in a fight.

Michelangelo had been tentative at first only speaking to Leonardo when spoken to first but he'd quickly gotten out of his shell when Leonardo had asked him to make his favorite meal for dinner one night. The smile that lit the orange banded turtle's face was a hundred watts and it warmed Leonardo to the core. After that Michelangelo had insisted upon making all the meals for the family waking up early to get breakfast prepared then waking each of his brothers up one after the other so they could eat together. It was a pass time, eating together, one that they hadn't done in a long while but was missed and happily brought back.

Raphael surprised Leonardo the most. He personally took charge of the duties Leonardo had a hard time doing. He ran practices and spared with him when he'd gotten enough meat back on his bones that Donatello had real released him to train. Raphael even sat with him and proved to be a focal point for Leonardo to focus on while he meditated. It took a few tries but eventually the two got it down and Raphael was even surprised at how much meditating with Leonardo calmed the fire in his veins when he became angry.

There were still setbacks but the positives outweighed the negatives and for that Leonardo couldn't be more grateful. Bit by bit the icy cold feeling in his chest cracked away and he didn't feel alone anymore. He felt safe and secure and loved.

"Earth to Leo! Hello?!"

Leonardo shook his head coming out of his thoughts with a smile as he jumped towards another rooftop following close behind his brothers. Raphael slowed his run to match his brother's. He looked at his brother with a hard eye assessing him critically to ensure he was alright. This was the first time they'd been this far away from the lair and he was rightfully worried. "You good, bro?"

Looking at his brother with a smile Leonardo nodded his head still keeping pace. "I'm okay, just thinking. It's been a crazy year."

Raphael snorted, "You could say that again."

"It's been a crazy year," Leonardo smirked. Raphael rolled his eyes at him. "Don't try to act funny bro, it doesn't suit you." To that Leonardo shoved him away with a snicker.

"Hey! You two dudes coming or what?" Michelangelo called back to his brothers who were at least a rooftop away. The orange banded turtle flipped over the next roof disappearing for a second until the blue and red turtles jumped down landing next to Donatello who had his arms crossed not even slightly out of breath though they had been running for a while.

"Raph you're getting a little slow," Donatello joked slapping the red turtle on the shoulder. Raphael rolled his eyes as Leonardo and Michelangelo laughed.

"Yeah well we got the one-armed wonder over here." Raphael shoved his thumb over towards Leonardo who smiled. He wasn't ashamed of his arm anymore. It had taken a while but he'd finally learned to embrace the stump.

"Hey! The one-armed wonder could still kick your shell."

Raphael smirked, "Is that a threat?"

"A promise!" Leonardo yelled charging at his brother and tackling him to the rooftop. They landed in a puddle of shell and limbs rolling over the rooftop probably making the families below roll their unsuspecting eyes thinking the sounds clambering above them were nothing but scurrying raccoons or birds in heat.

Leonardo and Raphael laughed as insults were flung and halfhearted punches were thrown. Donatello and Michelangelo rolled their eyes before Donatello finally yelled. "Are we going to finish our run or not?"

The two turtles on the roof stopped, looking up at their brothers with loopy smiles on their lips.

"Yeah," Michelangelo agreed. "The Walking Dead starts at ten and my butts gotta be on the coach by then, bros."

Raphael jumped to his feet flicking his youngest brother in the forehead. Michelangelo scoffed at him jumping forward but Raphael danced out of the way taking off at a run to continue their work out. Leonardo looked to Donatello who rolled his eyes again before starting to run after them as well. Leonardo watched his brother's shells only a second before pumping his legs trying to catch up but at the same time basking in the feel of fresh air on his face and freedom of the open rooftops. He could hear his brothers taunts fly though the crisp air and he felt himself grin.

It had been hard and sometimes the wrong words were still said but they were a family and together they could get through anything.

Leonardo jumped to the next roof feeling his muscles work under his skin. He was strong, but sometimes he still faltered. "Wha-ugh!" Foot sliding out from under him, Leonardo took a tumble at the next roof trying to clear the edge but coming up short. Just when he thought he was going to fall a hand sprang out latching onto his outstretched arm and taking a hard hold before pulling him up with little effort. "Thanks, Mike."

"That's what I'm here for bro." Michelangelo patted him on the shoulder and they smiled at each other before the orange turtle giggled and they took off again rushing after their brothers.

A scream cut through the air bringing the brothers to a sharp halt. The yell was familiar, the way all calls for help were when someone was pleading for anyone to come to their aid. Together the turtle's rushed to the sound looking down to see a man surrounded by Purple Dragons. Leonardo waited the customary minutes for a Good Samaritan to show up but when none came he nodded to his brothers. "Looks like we're up guys."

The four jumped down into the alley drawling their weapons startling a gang of Purple Dragons who had an older man up against a dirty wall. Leonardo pulled out one sword and held it out in his practiced hands.

"Gosh," Leonardo tisked at the dirty looking men and bright hair colored woman. "And I was having such a good night too."

"This doesn't concern you turtles," One man spat through a pierced tongue. "Keep walkin' and maybe we won't hurt ya."

"Hold on a sec," Michelangelo put his hand up scratching at his forehead. "Did they just threaten us? Are we supposed to be scared?"

"I'm quiverin' in my shell," Raphael smirked darkly making a few of the Dragons take steps back.

"Raph you're scaring the poor little guys," Donatello moved his hands up his wooden bo staff feeling the roughness slide across his fingers.

The head Dragon growled at them. "Enough of this! Attack these losers so we can get our money and get outta here!"

"If ya think you can win," Raphael taunted twirling his sai in his three fingers. "Then I'd have to tell ya yer sorely mistaken."

Then the two sides rushed at each other and Leonardo felt free.

And then, 36 pages later I am finished. This was a bear, let me tell you. I hope you enjoyed it and if you made it all the way to the end I assume that you didn't find it too terrible. Comments always appreciated. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more. I like this universe and I may want to play around in it a little more.