Beta-read by Deirdre.
Rated R for future chapters.
Raphael and Leonardo stood side by side, both as still as statues. Leonardo had his katana raised in an attack position, the blade close to his domed head, the edge parallel to the floor of the dojo. Raphael held a similar stance a sai in either hand and a look of firm concentration on his face that mirrored Leonardo's. Raphael's furrowed brow, however, betrayed the strain that the effort he was making to keep calm was putting on him.
The smell of Mikey's cooking wafted throughout the Lair, and Raphael was finding it hard to concentrate over therumbling of his stomach and the promise of food so nearby It smelled like hamburgers... if he was being trained to withstand torture, Raphael decided, then this was certainly an effective method.
A silent command sent a ripple of electricity through Raphael's skin. In unison, the two brothers lunged, performing a similar arrangement of movements. But after a few concordant lunges, pivots and strikes, Leo's movements diverged from Raphael's and they began to complement one another, each countering the other's every move. Raphael would thrust with a sai, and it would come within an inch of Leo's plastron just as Leo moved back and brought his sword down in a fluid motion, barely missingRaphael's legs right as Raphael jumped. It was like a dance.
'A lethal dance,' Raphael reminded himself, and gripped his sais a little tighter. Any mistakes and one of them could be seriously injured, or worse, killed.
"Dammit!"
The crash and swearing that followed erupted from the kitchen broke Raphael's concentration. He missed a step, and Leonardo, not realizing that his partner had stopped, continued the motion and swung his katana at Raphael's head.
With sudden awareness, Raphael moved his arm to block the blow just as Leo realized the danger and managed to curtail the strength and speed of the blow. Instead of hitting Raphael's neck at full force, the sword drove into his upper arm, pushing into the flesh and hitting the bone.
Raphael immediately clapped his hand over the cut and hissed in pain. Leonardo gasped and dropped his katanas as Raphael dropped to the dojo floor with a heavy thud. Raphael tried to ignore the pain, and concentrated on Leo's face, rather than think about the blood that was rushing past his hand and onto the floor. Leonardo's face was pale, and his eyes were wide.
"Donnie, get in here!" Leo cried out, sitting down so he was level with Raph.
"Could ya mebbe not sharpen those things so often?" Raph asked as Leonardo pried Raph's hand away from the wound. Blood came rushing out, and Leo immediately slapped a hand over the injury.
"I'm so sorry," Leonardo said, and without a trace of sarcasm or insincerity, "I thought you could handle yourself."
Raphael bristled at the comment just as Leo realized his mistake. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but Donatello and Michelangelo rushed into the room.
"Holy crap, Raph! What happened to you?" Michelangelo cried. Raph nodded his head in Leonardo's direction.
"Ask him. He's the one who seems to think I can't handle myself."
"Raph, that's not what I-" Leo started, but Donatello cut him off.
"Michelangelo, go get my medical kit. This is going to need stitches. Leonardo, please get Master Splinter."
The two left without a word. When they were out of earshot, Donatello bent down and took a look at the cut.
"It's not too bad," Raphael muttered and then winced when Donatello poked it experimentally.
"How did it happen?"
"Not in an argument, like I know yer thinkin'. Leo and I were practicing, doing a synchronization exercise when Mikey dropped something in the kitchen." Raphael stopped, not really wanting to admit that he had been distracted by the noise. But it was Don he was talking to, not Mikey who'd tease him or Leo who'd nag him, so he continued, "it startled me, and I stopped."
Donatello nodded in understanding. "So why were you mad at Leo, if it was just a mistake?"
"I wasn't. It was something he said after."
Donatello looked at his brother and saw the clenched jaw and slitted eyes. Right here was an Angry Raphael. Angry Raphael was never a fun turtle to be around.
"Keep cool, Raph. You know he probably didn't mean it."
"Sure, whateva'." Raph growled, and grimaced as Donatello prodded the wound again. "Hey, watch it."
"Sorry. Ah, give that here, Mikey."
Michelangelo, who had just arrived, handed the med kit over to Donatello Hesat on the edge of a bench in the dojo and watched as Donatello began to lay out the tools he needed. Raphael's attention was on the door to Master Splinter's room, and he watched through narrowed eyes as Leonardo and Splinter approached. Donatello cleaned the wound, and then began to stitch it up with the speed and precision of an expert.
"Raphael, Leonardo told me what happened." Splinter said, once he and Leonardo had entered the dojo.
"Great," Raphael muttered. There was a sharp tug as Donatello pulled the thread a little tighter than was necessary. "Ow!"
"Sorry," Donatello said quietly and continued to stitch the wound.
"I have come to the conclusion that this was an accident, and that no parties are to be held accountable for a mistake made in practice. After Donatello has finished bandaging your wound, I would like for us to attend dinner and then for you to get some rest."
No punishment? Raphael raised an eye ridge, and then grimaced as Donatello tugged a little too hard on his wound.
"Sorry," his brother muttered as Raphael glared down at him.
"S'ok," Raphael said reluctantly, returning his attention back to his father. "Hai, Sensei."
Dinner was a quiet affair. Donatello had finished first and excused himself from the table, quickly followed by Michelangelo. Raphael shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his brothers got up to leave.
"Thanks a lot, guys," he muttered as Donnie and Mikey walked past him. The other turtles didn't respond. Raphael sighed and looked up to see Splinter and Leonardo watching him.
"What?" Raphael snapped, the question coming out a little harsher than he had intended.
"Leonardo told me that you were distracted during practice, Raphael." Splinter stated.
Raphael glared at Leonardo and nodded. "Yeah, we already discussed this. Mikey dropped something and it startled me."
"In battle, such a mistake would have cost you your life," the rat glanced down at Raphael's bandage, "or your arm."
"Yeah, Master Splinter. I know," Raphael said. His meal had been abandoned. Despite Michelangelo's good cooking, the food was beginning to stick in his mouth and throat, and his appetite had completely vanished.
"Be sure that you do know it! An enemy wouldn't have pulled his strike," Leo admonished.
Raphael groaned and pushed himself away from the table, the chair legs scraping hard against stone. "Leo, it never ends with you, does it? I'm talking with Master Splinter, not you, so keep yer beak outta my business."
With that, Raphael spun on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving Splinter and Leonardo sitting at the unfinished hamburgers on their plates. Leo jumped as the door to the Lair slammed shut, before his gaze flicked down to his brother's plate, where more than half of a burger remained. A sigh came from the doorway as Michelangelo marched into the room. He picked up Raphael's plate and placed it carefully in the fridge.
"Every meal time," Leonardo could hear Mikey mutter, "every meal time something I make goes to waste."