Ariana Gorman: I'm glad you liked it. Thank you. :)

prangersturtles: Haha! Thank you!

tarin2014tfan: Thank you so much!

TheMaskedTimelord: That is so kind of you! Thank you! Have some more bro feels!

Natalie Ryan: I'm sorry for your tears. The guys - all of them - have really been through a lot and each of them needs some attention from their big brother. Even Splinter needed a moment with Leo: gearing him up really grounded him in the fact that this was reality, that they were home and safe and Leo was theirs again. Leo's also going through a bit of tough time: he does miss Little Leo but at the same time he doesn't because he's a part of him; he's beginning to understand just what he means to his family as a whole and to each individual. You're right: he's not just a leader and a big brother; he's a person with responsibilities, feelings and problems, and he's figuring that out one family member at a time. I'm glad you enjoyed Raph's texts. I had originally only had two from him dated for July 7th (something along the lines of 'Mikey's making ramen. Want any?' then 'Never mind'.) and that was it, but Raph is too complex of a character for that. Where Don and Mikey only called Leo's phone in times of need or uncertainty (and in Mikey's case, his breaking point), Raph remained in "contact" with his brother almost daily. It really solidifies his relationship with Leo, and I'm glad you commented on it specifically so thank you. :) Also, you shouldn't blame Leo for anything. I'm the one at the keyboard. ;)

Guest: I'm glad you enjoyed it, though I'm sorry to hear about your "getting diabetes". ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 47

Raph's leg didn't hurt so much that he couldn't clean up the toddler stuff still lying around. Of course, it would have been easier if Casey had been around but the guy had taken off after lunch to go "do some stuff", and Splinter was meditating in the dojo. Nevertheless, the baby-locks, baby gates, toys, crayons and paint he boxed up and put by the elevator so it would be quicker to take up when April came by tomorrow to donate it all (again). With Sensei's permission, he entered his father's room to disassemble the crib and lug it out to the pile. The sippy cups, plastic dishes and picture books all followed suit, though after a minute's deliberation, he set the rocking chair from Sensei's room out in the living room. He did all of this as quietly as he knew how in order to not wake Donnie who had passed out in the nest after lunch.

His older brother slept soundly – a relief after the rough night everyone had had. Nightmares of hard fists, wicked blades and an eagerly-awaiting, black abyss had plagued him for the better part of the night, and he was sure, from Mikey's, Don's and even Splinter's low cries, that they had been just as haunted. (Though, at some time in the early hours, his nightmares had simply stopped and it was upon awakening in time for breakfast that he'd found Leo gripping his wrist, still sound asleep and probably unaware of his family's distress during the night.) That his immediate elder brother slept now with smooth features and relaxed limbs meant the world to him and damned if he disturbed him.

He paused in the middle of the room, looking about. He'd gotten everything, right? It looked like it but he suspected that they'd find the odd toy or block or crayon for weeks to come.

The blocks. April's gift to Little Leo. Geez, what were they going to do with it all? Leo wasn't likely to keep them; he wasn't overly nostalgic and he certainly wasn't going to play with them. He'd have to ask him about it…maybe when everything had calmed down a bit more.

Giving the living room a last go-over, he tiptoed past Donnie (only stopping to rearrange the blanket that had slipped off his shoulders) and headed for the refrigerator for a snack. He stopped short as soon as he entered the kitchen, his eyes glued to the destined appliance. Both fridge and freezer doors were still covered in papers. Vibrant colours in paint and crayon were still pinned by magnets. He approached slowly, as if the whole kitchen would come alive and pounce on him if he so much as touched one of the pictures. Wary eyes flicked once around the room – everything was still in place, no one was near – but he could not bring himself to take down the pictures. Smudges and smears depicting who knew what from exuberant brushes that were quickly dropped and replaced with fingers decorated each page. The odd painting was Mikey's, an array of abstract colours, shapes and themes that announced the orange-masked turtle's talent with all the force of thunder.

One painting in particular caught his eye. It had been Mikey's idea – of course it had been – to take Leo's tiny hand, press it in blue paint and apply it to a large sheet of paper. Raph remembered how Leo had smiled at his blue, little hand-picture, three fingers spread. He remembered how Mikey had answered that smile as he had dipped his own hand in orange and made an imprint right next to Leo's, Leo's thumb and his pointer finger touching. He remembered being presented with a plate of red paint, a request and very specific instructions. He remembered acquiescing and the thought of ruining the painting never crossed his mind. Then Mikey had gone in search of Don, and while Raph had washed his and Leo's hands, Don had applied his own handprint in purple. It had taken hours to dry but the final result (with Mikey lightly colouring the background in a shell-pattern of green pencil crayon) was a masterpiece in its simplicity. Leo's handprint was in the middle of a circle of connected orange, red and purple handprints. Each of the three outer hands connected to Leo's little fingers with their own pointer finger, and each connected to its neighbour by touching thumb to pinky.

"Raph?"

He spun, hand instinctively reaching for his sai before recognizing the voice and stopping in time. "Geez, Leo!" he exclaimed (quietly because Don was still sleeping in the next room). "Don't do that! Ya almost gave me a heart attack!"

Leo smiled softly and crossed the floor to set a tea cup in the sink. "Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to startle you." His eyes flicked to his, holding him. "What were you doing, anyway? You're a hard turtle to sneak up on, any day of the week."

"Um…" Raph rubbed the back of his neck and half-shuffled away from the fridge. "Nothin' really. Just cleanin' up a bit."

"I saw the pile. You're keeping busy." The gentle observation was laced with a subtle accusation: Why aren't you resting?

Raph shrugged and muttered, "It needs to get done."

There was no telling what Leo was thinking when he said, "I see. Want to take a break then? If you've been at since after lunch then you should take a breather. Tea?"

"Didn't ya just have a cup?" he wondered, jerking his chin to the sink.

"Mikey made it for me but we got to talking and it cooled before I could finish it," his brother explained.

"Where is he now?"

"He's asleep."

Of course he was. Raph was the only one stubborn enough to not rest when he really should. "Well, since yer offerin'. Sure." The red-banded turtle sank into a chair. "Thanks."

"Of course."

They lapsed into silence, the only sounds being Leo as he filled the kettle, set it on the stove to boil and fetched down a couple packets of cinnamon-orange and two cups. Raphael watched his brother carefully out of the corner of his eye. He moved with the same easy grace as before, no evident lasting effects from being toddlerized but he knew Don wanted to give him a proper checkup. He had a new scar, he noticed. Or maybe it wasn't new. It looked old but he could have sworn it hadn't been there before. On Leo's outer, right thigh was a thick and jagged line, and Raph frowned in thought.

"I can hear you thinking from here, Raph," his brother informed him, though his shell was turned to him. "What is it?"

Raph spoke slowly. "I've never seen that scar before," he said. "On your right thigh."

Leo looked down, bemused, and traced the tissue with a fingertip. "Sure, you've seen it. It's just healed is all." He glanced up at him. "Didn't Don say that how the gun worked was a shift backwards in time? It stands to reason that, since I broke the spell, any injuries I sustained as a toddler would have healed."

Leo's cut leg. Leo's dislocated elbow. His numerous cuts and bruises from the flood that had happened only two weeks ago. While most of it had healed before their capture, they all knew that the nasty leg gash would scar. And it had.

"Huh," was all Raph said.

Leo quirked a smile at him as he poured out the hot water and set the cups down on the table. "It needs to steep," he said before Raph could take a sip.

The left corner of Raph's mouth curled up as he said, "Thanks, Fearless."

They basked in the quiet and the gentle steam rising from the cups; Raph had his hands wrapped around the ceramic.

"So…what were you doing with the pictures?" Leo asked.

Raph examined his steeping tea as he said, "I dunno. I wasn't really sure what I was goin' ta do with 'em. I mean, they're not mine ta throw away or keep."

"Hm," mused Leo, eyeing his cup carefully. "Well, I'm sure Mike will want to keep some since some of them are his."

"And the rest?" Raph prodded. He watched his eldest brother glance up to him then flick his eyes over to the pictures on the fridge.

"You know…" he said slowly, "I think I might keep a couple of them myself. I kind of like the one of Klunk."

"Klunk?"

The cat in question suddenly appeared, leaping up onto the table and rubbing against Leo's arm. Leo scratched the feline obediently before getting up and untacking an orange glop on paper from somewhere near the bottom of the fridge door. He returned and handed Raph the picture. "Klunk," he said with a rather ambiguous smile, re-taking his chair.

"Uh…sure, Leo. Okay." Raph didn't think the blob looked like anything except for, well, a blob.

"Klunk stayed away from us the moment he clapped eyes on us," Leo explained, taking back the picture and staring at it with a forlorn smile on his lips. "Little Leo was upset that the cat didn't like him."

Raph recalled the orange kitty curling up beside the toddler after the flood to help him keep warm and chose not to comment further than "That's too bad."

"He was jealous that he liked Mikey so much but he wasn't angry enough to hurt him. I made sure of that. I told him that Klunk just needed time to get used to him. He doesn't like new things, and that appeased him. He was looking forward to the day when he could hold him."

Raph looked down and took a swig of tea. He grimaced at the hot liquid but he didn't say anything.

"Raph?"

He took another drink, not meeting his brother's eyes.

"Raph. Look at me."

So slowly that it shamed him, he obeyed and instead of anger or jealousy in his brother's eyes, all he saw was understanding.

"I know you miss him, Raph," Leo said. "I know how happy he made you and I'm sorry that I took that from you."

"Leo…" he began but he stopped because what was he supposed to say? He'd be lying if he said it wasn't true but at the same time he couldn't confirm the statements; it would break his brother's heart.

"It's okay, really," Leo continued. His hand petted Klunk absently and he sipped his tea. "I get it. I do. I wish there was some way that we could have stayed separated. Maybe then everyone would be happy?"

Raph's eyes bugged. His brother thought they weren't happy, that they grieved more than they rejoiced, that they had lost more than they had gained. "Leo…" He began again and spoke slowly, choosing his words with utmost care. "I would choose ya over him any day. We had fun, I won't deny it. And seein' ya so dependent and trustin' made me want ta be worthy of yer trust. I wanted ta learn how ta be gentle because ya were so fragile. I couldn't lose my temper because I knew I would hurt ya, not only physically but emotionally. I didn't want ta damage what we were buildin', and I don't think I would have learned that lesson any other way. But ya are my big brother. Yer our big brother. Yer my fearless leader and I am happy that yer here because, dammit, Leo, I missed ya more than ya'll ever know."

Leo met his earnest gaze for only a second before dropping his to the table. "I got your texts," he whispered.

For a split second, Raph didn't know what he was talking about but then he got it and his face heated. "Oh," he managed to say. All of that uncontainable emotion he couldn't quell with meditation or training he had sent in messages to his brother's phone, knowing he would never get a reply. At the time, it had been a source of release and a way to convey his thoughts coherently. Now, it seemed like a cruel joke to play on his elder brother.

"And I do know, Raph," he continued. "I can feel it. I can sense it. Cooped up in my own mind for so long, I resorted to meditation to pass the time and to keep tabs on you when I didn't want to look out through eyes that weren't mine." He paused and Raphael let him gather courage and strength to say whatever came next. "I don't really think I'm still meditating but I think my spiritual senses have increased." Now he looked up at him and Raph saw in those navy eyes the exact same emotions roiling in his soul. "I do know, Raph," he said again.

And he did because Leo never lied, and suddenly all of it was meaningless: his grief for the toddler, the weeks of missing Leo, his fears of leading, the knowledge that he had failed his family so completely – all of it was pointless because Leo sat in front of him and understood and knew and was here.

The tears came then, slow trickles of relief, gratitude and joy down his cheeks, and Leo got up from his chair, knelt at his side and hugged him. He was gentle at first but when Raph returned the hug desperately, his arms tightened and Raph buried himself in his brother's shoulder, hearing his heartbeat and breaths, and feeling the strength in the body around him. This was his big brother, his fearless leader, and no magic spell or threat of death would ever change that.

So Raph let himself hug and be hugged, and the teacups sat forgotten on the table, and Klunk mewed, disgruntled with the sudden shift in attention but neither of the brothers paid him any mind.

-:-:-:-

Leo kept the blocks. They were a gift, after all. He also kept a handful of the paintings and crayon scribbles. He set the one of his brothers' handprints on his desk until he could get it framed. The picture sat next to April's gift to him. Little Leo had gotten blocks. Big Leo's gift had taken four weeks to order, make and ship. He'd received it six days ago over dinner to astonished gasps and applause. It was a steel-wrought tree of life, tempered to a shine of pale red, purple and orange, and was two feet in diameter. April had found the piece on a metal-works site that operated out of Canada. She hadn't said how much it had cost but after a bit of snooping on Don's laptop, Leo had been reassured by the fact that his brothers' gifts had been more costly than his own. Not that it mattered but he didn't want April spending a small fortune on him. His brothers, on the other hand, he would let her spoil until they were rotten to the core.

Standing on an apartment roof somewhere near Brooklyn, Leo stared out over the Hudson whose waters reflected the clear, night sky, and smiled at the thought of spoiled, little brothers.

A sharp whistle made him turn, his tail masks flying behind him in the early September wind. Mikey grinned at him. "Are you coming, Leo? We've still got another mile to go before we have to turn around."

Leo smiled and sauntered over to where his brothers waited for him. He wordlessly glanced at them all, meeting their eyes and measuring them. His enhanced spiritual senses hadn't lessened in the two weeks since they'd gotten home but his brothers had certainly healed. Nightmares had ceased, Raph was no longer limping, and even Don was able to join them tonight on their first patrol since that fateful day in July. His brothers met his gaze in eager courage and he nodded before breaking into a run over the rooftops of New York.

It was on the way back when he both heard and felt raucous shouts. He stopped the team with a hand and motioned them forward slowly. Peering over the side of the building, three stories down, the ninja turtles spotted a pack of Purple Dragons recklessly and loudly robbing a jewelry store.

"Quiet down!" one spat, his voice carried up to them on the wind.

"Ah, who's gonna hear us? The turtle freaks?"

Leo glanced at Don, Raph and Mikey and raised a brow ridge.

"Ha, ha!" laughed another. "We ain't seen those clowns in two months!"

Raph smiled devilishly, fingering a sai, and nodded, Don and Mikey giving their own, silent agreement as they readied their own weapons.

"Probably dead," snickered a third.

"Yeah. 'Cause that's why the Foot cleared out and left us all their territory," the leader growled, not noticing the shadows creeping down the fire escape. "Because the turtles are dead."

"Fifty bucks says they are!" the third man challenged.

Leo unsheathed his katana slowly but let the twin blades catch the moonlight. "I'll take that bet," he announced, and with his brothers right behind him (Mikey yelling his usual battle cry of "Cowabunga!"), he dropped into the gang's midst, nictitating membranes white in the darkness and his katana gleaming.

The End.

-:-

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all readers, followers and reviewers. It has been an absolute thrill to write for you. It was a challenge. It was difficult and grueling at times to get chapters posted on time, and I know I've slid out of it these last couple weeks, but I'm glad you stuck with me. I'm glad that you loved the story. It was my honour and privilege to write for you, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.