All rights to respective owners. Unfortunately, neither of those owner are me. TMNT are owned by Eastman and Laird. The inspiring song, "Those Nights" is written by Skillet.
Leo stoked the campfire with a long stick, pushing around the logs until they lay more directly on the glowing flame. Darkness had set in already, and yet the temperature didn't drop much as the sun did. He rummaged through his bag, pulling out an apple and hunk of bread, the last of his food. That was alright, though. It would last him until tomorrow, when he had planned on making a covert mission into the village. Things had died down for past few days, now that his reputation as the ghost of the jungle had spread by word of mouth. The village people were safe.
If they are safe now, why don't you just go home? It's been over a year.
Leo shook his head. He couldn't go home yet. These people needed him. What if more bandits came back terrorizing the village? His place was here. Besides, he hadn't finished his training. He came down to South America to become a better leader. he wasn't about to go home a failure. His family was just going to have to wait.
Family. Leo stared into the fire and sighed. Those guys could handle themselves while he was gone. Well, most of them. Don was sure to be busy at his machines, doing his best to keep Mike out of trouble. Hopefully Mikey wasn't too bored. When the youngest brother got bored, he got restless, pulling pranks and in general being annoying. Most of the time his victim was Raph, who often responded with a beating. Then Sensei would come in and lecture them both.
Leo smiled. Those were the days. His mind flitted with memories of laughter, of games and joking around. Playing stupid contests. Standing victorious and parading. Falling in defeat and suffering the jokes of his brothers. He remembered the nights on the rooftops, running free and playing ninja tag. He remembered getting beaten by Mikey at video games. He remembered being marveled by Don's new invention, and seeing the look of pride in his brother's face. He remembered the few times that he and Raph were actually getting along, watching a movie and discussing the actress and whether she was cuter than so-and-so. Then Don would overhear from his lab and shout a remark, which would catch the attention of Mike in the kitchen. Mike would come over to the couch wearing his god-awful pink apron that he got from who-knows-where clutching a bowl he was mixing dinner in, just so he could join in our discussion. Then either Raph or Leo would get dripped on by his spoon and they would send him back to the kitchen before he made a bigger mess.
The apple lay forgotten in Leo's hand as he lost himself in memories of home. It was how he got through those nights, all those nights of being alone after growing up in a home bustling with activity. He remembered when they used to laugh about nothing at all. He remembered when they stayed up late and talked in a dark room lit only by the television. Those nights kept him from going crazy in the silence, in the dark, in the loneliness.
Leo knew that someday soon, he would return to his family. He would protect them and prove himself to them. They would go back to the way things were. But until then, he would remember those nights. Because those nights kept him alive.