The rooftops sped by in a blur. His feet pounded the floor in sync with every other of his heartbeats, both steadily gaining as he pushed himself to go faster. The near-silent footsteps behind him grew in number, but he didn't dare look back to see.
The grey clouds shifted in the night sky, blocking out what little light the moon sent down. Normally, the extra shadows would have been a God-send, shadows being a ninja's greatest ally, but his pursuers were too close for him to disappear properly.
He raced his way to the nearest manhole cover, in an alley just a few buildings away, longing for the safety of the familiar underground. Arriving at said alley, he found three more black-clad ninja awaiting his arrival.
Never slowing, the turtle leaped over the alley, as he had done to countless others in his chase across the city tonight, adding the three to the still growing mob following after.
How did he always find himself in these messes? Glad as he was it wasn't one of his brothers dealing with it, he wished he wasn't alone.
Forty, maybe more, but it was hard to tell exactly without turning around, and doing so would only slow him. He pushed himself harder, despite knowing he would inevitably have to stand and fight.
He thanked the unseen stars that he was the fastest of his brothers, and had therefore slowly been gaining ground between himself and the deadly horde as time went by. If he could keep from tiring just a short while longer, maybe he could escape into the sewers unnoticed. He realized the flaw in his plan just as a stitch in his side burned when he gasped for air.
He couldn't run any more. At this rate, he would collapse into a breathless heap long before reaching the lair, defenseless against his attackers. He wouldn't be able to lose the mass of ninja before making it home. And he couldn't lead them back to the lair and put his family in such danger.
Reaching for the Shell Cell tucked inside his belt, he tried again to get ahold of his hot-headed brother. Desperately clinging the phone to his ear as he ran ever faster, despite his protesting lungs, listening to the never ending ring.
He snapped the cell shut again and slid it back into his belt. He could try calling Don or Mike, but it would take too long for them to get here. Raphael was the only other one of his brothers that was currently on the surface. His temperamental brother had stormed out after an argument, regardless of being warned of increased Foot activity, and he had followed after to bring the angry turtle home.
Right now he just hoped that Raph wasn't picking up because the red-clad turtle was still mad, and not because the sai-weilder also ran into trouble of the ninja variety.
A shuriken breezed past his shoulder, missing him by inches, and he knew the time for running had passed.
He slowed to a stop near the edge of the building, giving him two escape options if he needed them, the next building behind or the alley below; he knew there was another manhole cover a few hundred feet down the street to his right.
Standing his ground, he sank into a defensive stance, drawing his katana in each hand. He quickly caught his breath as the throng of black-clad pursuers eagerly slowed before him, drawing out their own weapons. Not waiting for the enemy to commence the attack on their terms, he lunged, swords forward, into the teeming mass. Steel an extension of his limbs, the blades arched gracefully around him, a dance of beauty and skill in the red spray.
A single figure made to intercept him from behind, only to be kicked square in the chest in the attempt, falling into the alley. He tried to keep his two escape routes clear in case the battle took a turn against him.
The clouds forming above finally broke into a storm, rain pouring from the heavens. He had always liked the rain, but it did little for him now besides wash away his opponents' blood from his body and the rooftop on which he stood. Blood and water dripped from the cold steel of his katana crossed before his heaving chest as he settled into a defensive stance once more to catch his breath. Half the dark troupe now lay in a semi-circle before him, a piled mess of swirling red and black, as the heavens drenched their blood sodden bodies.
Twenty-three, he counted. Twenty-three fallen before him; twenty-one left standing, warily moving into attack positions. The deadly dance continued, initiated by the enemy in a senseless bid to get the better of him. Seeing the blow aimed for his neck long before it would have hit, he easily blocked it with one blade, the other cutting through flesh and bone alike.
The rain beat down heavier, as though trying to erase all evidence of the deadly conflict occurring in its wake. As the first flash of lightening lit up the sky, like a signal from the fates as a turning of the odds, the turtle took his first hit. The skin of his right shoulder sliced open, his blood now mixing with that of the fallen in the growing pool at his feet.
Exhaustion played on his endurance as he held his ground. He continued to block the brutal attacks that jarred his swords nearly out of his grip as he was slowly overwhelmed by numbers. Their moves quick as the lightening and loud as the thunder that rocked the sky above, yet he remained steady as the pounding rain, unmoving, unwavering, unending. . .
He had made a decision when he had turned to fight, that in this fight, tonight, he would not die.
For the sake of his brothers, he would endure. He would fight with all he had to live for them. As much as he needed his brothers now, they needed him too. For all the yet to come battles fate had undoubtedly planned, he was needed. He was their leader, their protector, their shield. Their brother. And even now, here on this rooftop, an army of one against many, he would fulfill his duty as leader, and protect his brothers.
Gathering the last reserves of his strength, he struck back, cutting down three more in his path. Clearing his way to the middle of the roof, abandoning his quick escapes for more room to maneuver. And so the dance resumed.
Pain shot through his leg as a cut appeared on his thigh, wrought by the tip of a blade swung at his side. A backward slash of one sword and the dark ninja who caused it moved no longer. He ignored the pain that reared its ugly head with each new wound he collected, acknowledging it only by ending the life of whoever inflicted it.
Blood coated his front, but where his enemies' blood ended and his own began, no human nor turtle could distinguish.
Finally, only two stood before him. One with a bad limp from a blow received earlier and an aura of anger, the other whole and afraid. A feint to the left caught the former off-guard, and with a single flick of his wrist, his opponent was silenced for good.
Determination still burned in his eyes, he turned to face the last of the once great swarm, only to be surprised as the dark ninja dropped its weapon in terror, running back the way it had come. Off to tell its master about the immortal turtle chased halfway across the city before turning about and slaying an army of its Foot brethren, no doubt.
He watched the dark shadow scurry into the night. There was no honor in killing an unarmed warrior who would not stand and fight, so he let the ninja go.
He breathed deeply a moment, head tilted back to let the rain splash peacefully onto his face.
Surrounded by the dead, no sound heard over the cracking of thunder above him, as loud as though the sky might break at any moment.
". . . Leo?" called a gruff voice just beyond his line of sight, concern ringing in its familiar sound.
Lowering his head back to eye-level, he saw none other than the very turtle he had been trying to find. Raphael stood before him, Shell Cell clutched in forest green hand, amber eyes burning into his onyx ones.
He smiled weakly at the shocked face of his red-clad brother, as Raph took in the mountains of bodies covering the rain and blood soaked concrete roof.
He saw no cuts or bruises on the hot-head, which told him his younger brother was not met with the same luck he had. His brother was safe, and he was victorious.
Relief flooded in as adrenaline drained out, and he collapsed into his brother's cool, strong arms.
He felt as he was carried to the nearby manhole cover, and into the sweet darkness of the sewer tunnels, words of reassurance and awe whispered into his ear.
He didn't sleep, merely rested, content in the knowledge that his family was safe, and that he was headed home.
There would be time to heal. Time to regain his strength before the next battle they would have to face. And they would, together, if only in thought and not always in body. And he would be there to lead them.
For even vastly outnumbered, alone in a storm, Leonardo had protected his brothers.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, but would be awesome if I did!
A/N: *peeks head around corner* Heh. Hi everyone. This is my first finished work of fan fiction. So what did you think? Hope I wasn't too vague at some places. I thought it best to keep a balance between the details and the ambiguity; just enough so you know what is going on while leaving the rest up for the imagination. Hope it flowed well enough. Feed the hungry author? Ya know, if you want to. It's up to you. By the way, it's my birthday today. Just saying. . . Concrit happily received. Flames will be used for grilling green chile burgers, so it doesn't matter too much either way. I still get something I like no matter what. xD
-TheOneThatGotAway99