Slip.

"Kuso!"

This was the only slip Leonardo would allow himself as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, bandanna wrapped tightly around his fist. He'd slipped up enough today, and he would do it no more, no more so help him.

So help me.

Asking Donnie for assistance was well and truly out of the question. The time was late, only a few minutes from dawn, and well? He was sure he'd gain no sympathy from his usually benign brother.

He'd heard the talk in the hallways, in the secluded corners of the lair. The accusing looks that would dissolve into silent sniggers and turning away. Cold they called him. Arrogant they claimed to say. Stuck up and proud and unfeeling and in possession of a stick that was so well hidden inside his person, even he didn't know about it, but his brothers insisted was there. And while most times he could brush off these words without a care, boiling it down to just ignorance, or childish mentality, he had to admit, even to himself, that those words, well, hurt.

Hurt bad.

Almost as bad as the perfectly sliced gash that ran across his palm right now. It had been a simple mistake, and that galled him all the more for it.

A moment for reflection. That's all he wanted. A moment of perfect peace where he could settle his bones and let his mind wander free, away from the daily, never ending grind of keeping it in place, so his thoughts and feelings would be in perfect harmony. For his family, for his brothers, to keep everyone safe. Perfect control. He had to have it. Had to keep his mind in perfect control, his mind in perfect balance. Had to, or else? Moving back to the present moment; as he searched for some surgical gauze, shit like this happens. A moment's lapse while in the perfect rhythmn of sharpening his katana, and now he was paying the price. A slip of control, led to a slip of the blade, which led to a slip of his perfect fascade. In turn; once again his thoughts turned bitter, could lead to the slip of morale, as his brothers realised their leader wasn't as perfect as they made out. And a slip of morale would hurt his family, far more than the bloody gash in his fist.

Leonardo would never hurt his family.

Never.

So now he was swearing softly, searching the medicine cabinet in the wee small hours like an idiot, so Donnie wouldn't be hurt by the slip, wouldn't have to take care of the wound. So Mikey wouldn't be hurt by the slip, watching those beautiful blue eyes tear up and turn grey as they always did when any of them were injured. So Raph ...

Raph.

Leonardo slumped heavily against the sink, a small flicker of worry running through him, as he worried the overwhelming weight of it all, was in fact just a symptom of extreme blood loss.

Raph would have a field day with this.

After being berated and lectured and told constantly about discipline, bushido, finding the way, the daily battle for control that he himself won unfailingly, Raph would never let him live this down. Never let him forget this one little slip. Leo didn't know if he could live through that. Didn't know if he could get through the daily, never ending slight against his honour. The scar on his hand would be more than enough.

Never in his life had he felt so alone.

Still; as he'd been telling himself constantly since the slip began, it was a small price to pay for his family right? It was a small price to pay to contain this slip to himself and no other, so no one else had to suffer his pain, be a part of his indignity. If that meant that his brothers thought of him as cold and unfeeling, then so be it. It was also a small price to pay for his family.

TCP now on the counter. Gauze nearby. Leo wasn't completely sure what else was needed, medical knowledge wasn't his strongest suit. Even Mikey knew more than him, having suffered more skateboard accidents than any of them cared to admit. That was just another point that infuriated him. The fact that his youngest brother put his life on the line with his hairbrained stunts. The fact that no matter how battered and bruised he was, he always managed to come home, having accomplished some simple triage that was just enough to have him limping back.

Sitting on the toilet, he braved his first peek underneath the bandanna. The bood gushed and bubbled underneath, slipping off his palm and landing in his lap with a sickening slap. He pulled the bandanna tight once again and paled.

Once again his mind slipped and ran free, so desperate was he for this brothers, for someone, anyone to come in and take him away from this dreaded nightmare. Once again he prayed to the Ancestors to take care of him, protect him, guide him and comfort him because he was sure, he was sure to the depths of his soul, there would be no comfort from his brothers.

For he was Leonardo.

He was cold, and unfeeling, and always in control.

The vunerable leader didn't even hear the bathroom door open. Didn't hear the mumbled panicked apology as a brother, seeing Leo's position, muttered in embarrassment and slammed the door shut. Didn't hear when, moments later, the door opened just a smidge and an emerald green beak poked it's way in.

Amber eyes viewed the scene curiously, the dejected, shell slumped figure sitting with a bloody fist in his lap, TCP and gauze nearby. Sighing softly, he muscled his way in, Nightwatcher helmet under his enormous arm.

He rested his helmet gently on the floor and crouched down low, knees popping and voicing their protests as he looked up at the rejected form, trying to catch Leo's clouded, onyx stare.

"Whatcha doin' Leo?"

The sound of his name broke the eerie silence that surrounded him, shattered his frozen state. He snatched his battered fist with his other hand, holding it tightly to his plastron, eyes defensive and cool.

"I could say the same thing. Don't you know how to knock?"

A tired, dry sound escaped Raph's lips as he rolled his eyes and settled into the familiar routine. If this was how Leo was going to play then so be it.

"Yeah I know how ta knock. Does ya know how ta answer a question when asked? Whatcha doin' Leo?"

Caught. Caught in a perfect conumdrum. Hadn't he just prayed moments before to the Ancestors for help? Prayed for guidance, comfort, protection?

But Raph?

This was the best the Ancestors could come up with? The one brother that would never let him live this down for as long as they both shall live, amen? The Ancestors had some funny ways of showing they gave a damn. He'd talk to the Ancient One about it, but once again, Leo didn't think he could cope with the side splitting laughter.

"Hey Leo? Ya ok? Ya kinda zoned out dere fer a bit."

Another slip, another loss of control. Kami! Could he do nothing right tonight?

"I'm alright Raph. I'm fine. Shouldn't you be in bed? I see you went topside again without permission." Leo reverted to his well worn ways, hide his hurts and focus on others, so they didn't see, didn't know, didn't find out just badly he was hurting inside. "Father is going to have your shell if he finds out. You better hide your armour as well, it is idiotic to be strutting around the lair in it, proud as a peacock, announcing to the world where you have been. Do you want to be found out? To be caught? To dash Mikey's dreams when he discovers who the Nightwatcher is? To make Donnie fret when he realises where you have been and what you may have suffered as a result of it? Do you not think Raphael about how your actions affect the members of your family? Your bretheren?"

Now perhaps it was because Raph had spent a night on the streets, hearing the banter and bicker and just plain, outright bitching of the world, the words of hate and spite that vomit on the streets after hours, but Leo's little tirade fell on deaf ears. All Raph could concentrate on was the growing crimson that crowded out the brilliant blue of Leo's bandanna, that welled and dripped and slipped from the sodden fabric onto Leo's lap.

Something needed to be done.

Without a word, gruff, streetwise, grimy hands caught Leo's perfect fist and unfurled it. Unwrapped the bandanna with a clumsy grace all his own, as Leo continued about Raph and his thoughtless ways. Emerald green lips pulled back and curled tight over teeth as he viewed the damage.

"Dat's gonna need a stitch Leo."

Once again Leo's mind was snapped back to the present. A stitch? Had he slipped that bad? Had he truly lost that much control? Onyx eyes clouded and looked at his brother confused. There was no way he could manage to stitch himself one handed, there was no way he could managed a single stitch. Just the thought of it, of the needle sliding through his skin, the force of his own body guiding the surgical steel's path ...

"... sick." Was all Leo managed to mumble before the involuntary gagging began.

Raph silently lead Leo prayerfully towards the bowl. How many times had he done this? When Mikey had drunk more than is fair share, or Donnie had used himself as a guinea pig on an experiment that was doomed to fail? Even he'd knelt at the great white ceramic god and dipped his head in thought and prayed with all his might that whatever he did? He'd never, ever do it again.

Now it was Leo's turn.

But Raph didn't do this did he? Raph too had suffered his own personal torment of quiet whispers of so called harmless fun.

He was the strong one, the powerful one. Dumber than a box of rocks, and about as compassionate too, right?

Right?

Not right.

He could show his brother, in the vast emptiness of the long and lonesome night, that it was ok to slip, his brothers would catch him if he fell.

Even Raphael.

"C'mon Leo. Let's getcha sorted eh?"

Those same arms that had fought off legions of evil, with a malicious intent that held no bounds, tenderly picked up the broken brother and silently led him to the privacy of his room. Settled him seated on the edge of the futon and returned moments later with one of Donnie's medikits.

"Stole it ages ago eh?" Amber eyes looked sheepish at Leo's accusing stare. "Don't wanna be botherin' Don fer everythin' rights?"

Dipped head nodded tiredly as he limply rested his hand in his lap, having no more energy to save his fall. Fate was determined to see him slip tonight, and he could no longer fight it.

The tears began to fall.

"Awww shell Leo eh?" A heartbroken voice, worn smooth with with worry withdrew the anesthetic and dutifully disposed it. Warm, fiery arms drew him in tight and Leo buried his face in the harsh scent of sweat stained skin. Unsure what to do, a clumsy hand patted his shell a little too harshly and made Leo smile for just a moment. It just seemed right somehow.

He pulled back and let Raph get to work. He marvelled at how Raph could tie each stitch, his movements thick and slow, not with the well practiced ease of Donatello, but the results were still the same; small, secure and neat. Not a single mocking word left his brother's lips, not a single look of admonishment. Could it possibly be that he got it wrong all this time? That a moment's loss of control meant his brothers not pulling away from him with tattered souls of hurt, but a coming together? To lift and hold and fold around the fallen, even if the fallen was the Fearless Leonardo?

He'd have to think on that.

Still the guilt was thick inside him and threatened to drown him whole. He bit back a choking sob and Raph's head snapped up, amber eyes a blaze, bleeding fear that he'd once again made a mistake, a mistake that hurt his older brother. Leo soothed Raph's mind with a kind smile. Satisfied, he snorted and went back to the task at hand.

Bandaging now, Raph had been completely silent about his task, and spawning worry was growing in Leo's gut. What did Raph think of this terrible indiscretion? Was this a point to him in the scoreboard of life? Something that would be added to the secrets spoken in the silent corners of the lair?

Tying off the bandage, Raph stood, a looming presence, and spoke. Leo involuntarily cringed, waiting for the words that never came.

"Gets ta beds eh Leo? I'll stay 'ere and makes sure ya don't slip. Ain't nothin' wrong with slippin' Leo, ain't nothin' wrong. We're all 'ere fer ya brother, always and evers."

And as Leonardo slipped into the sheets of his futon, and let his mind slip into sleep, he wondered at Raph's wisdom. For once the cocky, headstrong, rash brother was right. It was ok if he slipped, let his emotions show. His brothers would always be there for him, even the hotheadded Raphael, and would make sure he never fell.

But Leo was never going to let slip that Raph was right.

And he wasn't.

A/N: Trying to get back into the swing of things. Wrote this for myself, and put the warning out for someone I care deeply about. She probably won't be able to read it, but I just wanted to let her know I care.

To the other friends that can read it, I'd love an opinion. I've been too far from home, I've slipped too far. Have I come home? Are you glad to have me back?

Rant, rave, review, I really do need to hear what you think.