Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles nor do I know Laird/Eastman personally. Or own Kipling's poem. Or have rights to any of those aforementioned things.
This is simply fan fic.
-If-
"Damn, Don." I grunted lifting a dilapidated old cardboard box. Don had so much stuff packed into it, the top flaps wouldn't even close. He just shook his head as we walked out of his room. "Why couldn't you 'ave switched rooms with Mike before ya got all this junk?"
"Thanks for helping me move all this stuff Raph. Its great to have your strength on my side." He smirked setting a box in a corner of his new room and patting my shoulder. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeh Yeh, whateva." I bent down and picked up a box of Mikey's stuff. I followed Don back across the main room of our lair into the room he was vacating.
"Duuude!" Mike smiled leaning against the door frame. "I guess this will be okay." He grinned at Don. They had decided to switch rooms, Mike's is bigger and Don really could 'utilize', as he had argued, the space better. Like I figured, Donnie had more shit.
"You gon'a help or just stand there lookin' pretty?" I grabbed one side of Don's computer desk as Don slid his had underneath it. "Got it?" I asked before lifting and starting to walk backwards out of the room. Mike had already gone back to his old room.
"Dude, I got wheels!" He laughed pushing his overloaded skateboard past us, nearly crashing into a wall. Don just laughed and shook his head. I sighed, whateva keeps him busy. I helped my brother position the cumbersome hunk of wood against a wall and straightened my aching back, my gaze falling on the living room. Leo sat with his back to us, perfectly still. I dont think I had seen him move all morning.
"What's with fearless leader?" I thumbed towards the eldest brother. Don shrugged.
"Meditation?" He suggested. Of course, sure why not. Made sense. Let us do all the back breaking work, while he meditated. I mocked him in my mind. "I'll be there in a minute, want anything to drink?" Don offered as he headed towards our kitchen.
"Nah." I politely declined. I made my way past the couch back to Don's room, resisting the urge to smack my brother. 'Jus' get it done.' I reasoned with myself. I grabbed another overloaded box of Don's. This was mostly books, a few loose papers jammed between the pages, and a few folders. I examined the contents as I trekked back towards the other room.
"LOOK OUT!" Mikey's timing was impeccable, always a minute late. I didn't have time to react, instead I felt Mike's skateboard roll under my foot and heard the crash of his stuff. The box leapt out of my grasp and papers flew everywhere. Books tumbled to the ground landing open on their spines, pages fluttering to a resting spot. Loose papers flittered down around me as I pulled myself off the floor. Mike was hurriedly gathering his things.
"Dammit Mike!" I started snatching up papers and jamming them back into the books. Don joined us, dropping to his knees laughing and picking up papers. "You betta be more careful with that damn thing." I pointed at the wooden death plank on wheels. I plucked the white papers off the ground and mostly ignored the scribbled writing on them. Except one caught my eye. 'If you can keep your head when all about you..' it was printed from Don's computer, all the words aligned to the left side of the margin. 'Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,' my eyes scanned the writing, absorbing every other word. I quickly shoved it into a folder and reached for a last piece of the parchment puzzle, my fingers entwining with my brothers. I looked up the muscular green arm and my eyes met with his brown eyes. My teeth clinched and eyes narrowed. "''Bout time you helped." I spat under my breath, I knew he heard me, he always does. Ears of a damn fox. Leo handed me the last piece of paper and forced a smile, ignoring my comment. I wrapped my arms around the pale brown box and headed to its final resting place. I set the box down and flipped open the folder I had shoved the paper into. I pulled out the white piece with such nice little words printed on it. I quickly folded it and shoved it into my belt.
"Raph, if you wanna take a break.." Don called from the living room.
"Nah, let's jus' get it done." I didn't look at any of my brothers walking out of Don's room. I fell into line, carrying more goods from one room to the other until all the boxes had been switched.
"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you," Those words sat at the front of my mind that night. I flipped on my bedside lamp and pulled the paper from my belt. I pulled myself into a sitting position, proping myself up against my pillow. I quietly unfolded it and reread the words, taking more time to comprehend them. On the fourth read, I laughed at the first two lines. The thing as whole really grabbed my attention, leading my mind to one thing. Ever since I read those first two lines earlier in the day I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew who that poem was written about. Well, who it could have been written about. My eyes scanned those familliar letters again. "If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you," Yeah, he could do that. My mind wandered to earlier today. Mike made an innocent mistake and I snapped at him. That wasn't the first time that I lost my head. God, there have been too many to count. Just last week we were starting a patrol Leo assuming his leader role, telling everyone which way to go and what to do. 'Whateva fearless leader.' I snarled heading in the opposite direction.
'Raph! Lookit, at least just go that way.' He pointed to my right, 'That way we know where ya are.' His eyes held no emotion. No anger at me for blowing him off again, no annoyance, just calm. Its like he knew everything would work out just fine. I chuckled, my breath tickling my throat.
"If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you but make allowance for their doubting too," God did I ever doubt him. And Mike. I'd seen it cross Mike's eyes. There have been times I've seen my little brother rethink Leo's direction. Doubting if it was the right way, or if it would be safe. He never spoke up, never questioned him. Somehow Leo knew, at times rethinking his choice and picking a different way. Acknowledging our doubt, never saying a word.
"If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don't deal in lies," Without being tired! Man I'd never seen one person, turtle or rat sit so still for as long as he could. Don was a close second, but everytime I'd seen him his hands had to be playing with something. Being lied about? Our whole lives we were lied about. We don't exsist to the people of New York. No one ever stopped and said 'Thanks for saving our butts!', No we always had to stay to the shadows and hide from the cops, letting them take credit for cleaning up the streets. I bit my lip, my eyes reading further down the page.
"Or being hated, don't give way to hating, and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:" Being hated? Well I wouldn't say that I hated my brother. Just, yanno, disliked him. He never talked too wise. He always had a hint of uncertainty to his voice, just enough to notice but not change his words' meaning.
"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same;" God that struck a chord. He never gloated when we won, he never bitched when we lost. He was just so damn complacent with the situation. I read more lines of the poem, everyone ringing more true about my older brother. Is this why Don had printed this out? Maybe he saw a lot of Leo in it too. He's was always into reading books and poems, and stuff. I couldn't understand why he'd want to fill his head with that junk, wasn't like our life wasn't exciting enough! I read a few more lines before turning in for the night. I folded the paper and tucked it under the lamp, the last words I read repeating themselves in my mind.
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
Ifyou can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
If that wasn't my older brother I don't know what was.
Three weeks later I quietly walked into Leo's bedroom while he was in the Dojo practicing. I smiled laying the package in the middle of his bed. No identifying marks were on the brown paper concealing the shiny sufrace. I smiled again, slowly stepping backwards towards the door. I turned and was met face to face with my brother. I swallowed hard. I wasn't worried about being in his room. I was caught, he'd know the gift was from me now. He'd want to thank me. Probably hug me. "Hi." I whispered smiling. He nodded and stepped around me, eyes fixed on the foreign object on his blanket. He reached for it and I made my way for the door.
"Raphael." I stopped and turned to face my brother. I cocked my eyebrow, as he gently pulled the brown paper away and his eyes scanned the writing on the reflective surface. He never once looked up at me. I could see the muscles in his throat force down a bit of saliva. I nodded and began to tap my foot like an impatient child just waiting to receive the punishment and not the lecture. He raised his eyes to mine, they were glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you." He choked as a tear rolled down his cheek. I nodded.
"No problem." I cracked a smile. He set the mirror back on his bed and sat on the matress beside it. "Look." I started, my voice cracking a little. "I thought of you when I read the poem, and well, it would be selfish not to share it. Don helped me with the whole finding a mirror thing," tears were falling down both cheeks now. He rose to his feet and stood infront of me again. "Leo. I know I act like an ass. And I'm probably the biggest pain in your ass, but...you're my brother and I wanted you to know that I truely appreciate everything you do, and are."
"Thank you Raph." He smiled. I nodded and couldn't just leave him standing there. I opened my arms and gently wrapped them around my brothers body. His muscles relaxed as he returned the hug.
"Of course. You're my brother." I whispered.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling