Goodnight, My Son:
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT
Warning! May start out slow, but then becomes VERY dark and VERY graphic. If you are uncomfortable with gruesome blood and gore, please do not read this fic.
"Kame."
The turtle gasped awake to a stone-cold vastness. It was too dark to possibly see anything, but from the echoes that bounced across the space, he estimated that the room was probably about 20 feet long, maybe a bit shorter across. A numb pain was pounding against his body, the familiar throbbing of ugly bruises littered his body. A constant drip of water trickled in the otherwise stony silence. Drip. Drip. Drip. The air felt damp, heavy, and metallic, and Leonardo felt a bead of sweat trickle down his pulsing neck. Beyond the unusual tang of metal in the air, the familiar musk of moss and sewage hung in the air. That was strange. That meant that his captor hadn't bothered taking him out of the sewers. Years of discipline had him struggling instinctually to take control of the situation. Though, through the painful throbbing of his head and body, he could barely muster the energy to do even that. In the midst of his struggling, he soon realised that he was bound fast to what felt like a wooden stake.
"Kame." the voice snapped again, sounding increasingly irritated.
"Master Splinter?" he called out, immediately recognising the heavily accented voice of his sensei. "Are you alright? Where are you? I can't see anything."
"That is no concern of yours." The voice of Leonardo's sensei drew closer, but he saw no silhouette, heard no rustle of fur. "Do you remember, Kappa?"
"What? Sensei, where are you? Are you free?" The turtle shifted uncomfortably against his bonds, but they did not give. If he had his katana when he had been captured, they had been disposed somewhere else. Instead, he stretched his fingers to reach for the tantō that he always kept tucked away in his belt.
"I am not." the elderly rat responded, sounding lost and forlorn. "I am trapped, trapped in the darkness, trapped without my sons."
"Sensei? What are you saying? What's going on?" He received no answer. Leonardo fingered the leather of his belt, but found no trace of his hidden dagger. "Where are you, Master Splinter? Are you tied down as well? Don't worry, I'll get us both free."
"I am not tied by ropes. But I am bound by this cruel reality that you have forced upon me. Magaino."
Leonardo flinched involuntarily at his father's unusually harsh language. "Are you okay, father? Who are you talking to? You sound..."
"No...no!" Leonardo almost jumped at the harsh exclamation. "You are no son of mine. Do not dare to disrespect my kin, as you have already done so."
"Sensei? What's going on?"
"Do you truly not remember, demon?"
"Father? Father, please! Stop!"
"Do not run, impostor. You dare to imitate my son, you dare to invade my home? I will teach you not to trespass where you do not belong, demon!"
Leonardo scrambled desperately for the nearest ladder he came across. He had barely made it up the first two rungs when the rat was upon him, bearing down on him with glazed, manic eyes. His eyes- they were not kind and forgiving as Leonardo has grown up with. These eyes were harsh, black beads, emotionless and cold.
"What have you done with my son?"
"Please, Father. It's me, Leonardo! I'm your son!" he sobbed out. A crack echoed through the sewers; no amount of training could prevent him from crying out from the force of being beat by his father.
"Do not try to deceive me!" Splinter bared his teeth, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth. His eyes blazed in the picture of unadulterated fury. Leonardo had never seen his father look so...animalistic. "You have deceived this family for too long, kappa! You yōkai have dared to enter my home and impersonate my sons, and for that you must pay! I do not know how you managed to deceive me for so long, I do not know how you managed to infiltrate my home, but no more! Iie! I will not be tricked any longer, do you hear? No longer!" The sound of wood striking flesh and bone reverberated hauntingly against sewer walls. They didn't cease, even as Leonardo's cries of pain faded into strangled sobs.
Leonardo immediately stiffened.
"No..." he murmured. "Get away from me, get away!" his voice rose and cracked in hysteria. Splinter broke into a humourless, manic laugh. It felt so wrong to hear such a sound come from his father's lips.
"Now you understand but a fraction of my pain, demon."
Swallowing thickly, Leonardo pulled even tighter at his restraints, now frantically trying to escape. "Fa- Master Splinter," he quickly corrected himself, not wanting to further evoke his captor's rage. "I don't know what happened to you, but you need to believe me. I'm not an impostor, I promise!"
A slap. Leonardo bit back a groan from the harsh contact with his already sore cheek.
"So, you continue to tell lies, even now?" Splinter's Japanese accent considerably thickened as his anger flared once again. "Why do you continue to take this form? Why not show your true form, kappa?" Slap. "Are you afraid?" Slap. "Why do you continue to torment me?" Slap. "Have I not suffered enough?" he demanded, spitting in Leonardo's face. The turtle hissed in pain as the liquid trailed down his face, streaming over the multitude of cuts and bruises scattered across his cheeks.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Clearing the fog from his eyes, he cleared his throat weakly. "Yes." he called out. "Yes, you have, Hamato Yoshi," he continued in desperation. "Being betrayed by your own brother, losing Tang Shen, having your daughter stolen and raised to hate you, having your humanity taken from you, being exiled from the human world and being forced to live in the sewers. You have suffered so so much."
As he was speaking, Splinter's eyes continued to widen in pure fury. "How do you know this?" he spat. "How do you know of my story, my struggles, my torment? Tell me!"
"It was you that told me, long ago, me and my brothers." His voice cracked. "Mikey almost dropped your photograph, the one of you, and Tang Shen, and Miwa. But you caught it in time, 'cause you were watching. You were always watching, to make sure we never got in trouble, to make sure we were safe." He coughed weakly again, trying to clear the blood and phlegm from his throat. "It was the first time you really yelled at us. Raph asked you why the picture was so important, an' you took us in'o your room an' told us 'bout Japan. You told us 'bout Tang Shen, and Miwa, and Oroku Saki, and the Foot Clan." His usually carefully crafted speech was beginning to falter as blood caked his throat and pain began to overtake his mind.
A pregnant silence followed, but he could feel the anger radiating off the rat in waves. Drip.
He heard the cracking of joints as the rat bent down to his level. His chin was grasped in a bone-crushing hold and violently pulled up to meet Splinter's eyes. For the first time since awaking, Leonardo could see his Sensei, make out the outline of his muzzle. And almost immediately, Leo wished that he couldn't; Splinter's eyes were wide and unfocused, his lips were still pulled back in a threatening snarl, and his fur was unruly and matted. Leonardo could feel the unsteady rhythm of his harsh, angry breaths.
"Just how long have you yōkai lived in my home?" he searched the eyes of the turtle he had once thought to be his son, warily, eyes that looked oh so similar to those of his beloved eldest son. Staring into those blue irises, he almost felt his resolve crack, but he refused to relent. He tightened his grip on the turtle's jaw, digging his unkept nails into soft, green skin and dragging them unsympathetically across the turtle's face.
"I have always been there, father." As much as he wanted to try and pull away from his father's crazed gaze, he continued to stare straight into his eyes. A moment passed and they remained in that position, neither speaking. Then, for a moment, Splinter's eyes softened, and Leonardo dared to hope-
"More lies!" His chin was aggressively released, Splinter's hand drawing back quickly as if his skin was acidic. "You still continue to lie? You still hope to trick me? Even now? Very well, so be it. You will learn very soon, kappa, that you should not tell lies. For I can promise you, grave consequences will follow." He then turned away quickly, robe flapping after him. He continued to mutter under his breath in Japanese. His murmurings were too quiet to make out completely, but Leo managed to make out every two words or so.
Uso. Lie. Yōkai. Demon. Hontō ja nai. Not true. Yamete. Stop. Uchi. Home.
The rat soon faded into the darkness, as did the mutters. But as he was left alone, Leonardo felt a nervous tremble churn in his stomach.
Drip.
"You will learn very soon that you should not tell lies." he had said. Leo was unsure what he meant by that, but given Splinter's recent behaviour, he could only guess that it would not be pleasant.
Drip.
Shivering, he began to realise just how cold it was in the dark vastness. If it hadn't been so dark, Leonardo swore he could probably see his own breath. That didn't help his situation any. Being a cold-blooded creature in such low temperatures would surely only prove to sap his strength further.
Drip.
He continued to struggle weakly, but with new resolve. The rope only seemed to dig further into his wrists, but he didn't give in. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find his brothers.
His brothers.
In all the madness that had transpired in the past few hours (Hours? Or had it been much longer than that?), Leonardo had completely forgotten about his brothers. Where were they? Where they safe? Did Splinter have them as well? The thought both frightened and sickened him. Never had he thought he would be concerned for the wellbeing of his brothers if they were in the company of their father. With renewed vigour, he began to fumble around his belt again, searching for anything that might prove useful, a kunai, a shuriken, anything really.
Drip.
Is this what you are searching for?" Splinter. Immediately freezing, Leonardo became alarmingly aware of cold steel pressed against his throat. His tantō. The tickle of whiskers brushed tauntingly against his right cheek, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. "Did you think I would be so foolish as to leave you your weapons?" his sensei sneered into his ear. "Do not be so hopeful." The tip of the blade was dragged across his jawline, not quite drawing blood, but threatening to do so. "Tell me, Leonardo. Since you seem to know so much about my sons, about me, had you already impersonated my son when I gave him this knife? Where you the one I presented Leonardo's precious katana to? Do you recognise this blade? Do you, Leonardo? Tell me, my son. Hanashite." He dared not breathe, much less speak, as the sharp metal was pressed to his jugular. "I thought so much."
The knife was taken away from his neck and the turtle gasped in sweet oxygen, heart drumming hard beneath his plastron. "Splinter. Please."
"Do you beg for mercy, kappa?" the words were not spoken with sympathy, but contempt. "And with no sense of respect, even now in your position."
"Splinter-sama," he begrudgingly corrected himself, not daring to use the intimate term of 'father'. "Kiite kudasai. Onegai shimasu." Please listen. I beg you.
"Do you confess your crimes?" the rat demanded. "Do you admit to your deception, your impersonation of my son?"
"Master Splinter, you- you're sick. You're not yourself." he protested desperately. "Let me out, take me to my brothers. Take me to Donatello, and he'll be able to help. He will help you, Splinter."
"No..." For just a second, the rat seemed to falter, just a bit. "No. He is just as much an impostor as you. They are all impostors. Fakes."
"No, they're not! Listen to me. You are ill, you need help. Let me help you. I can help you!"
"I am not ill! I have finally seen the truth, the truth you have denied me for so long. You have already taken so much from me, and now you want to take this as well? No! I will not allow it. I will not allow you to deprive me of this truth, this reality. No. No. No. No." he continued to ramble on, seeming to forget who he was talking to altogether. "This is the truth. The only truth."
"Master Splinter, you're delusional. You're...you're not in the right mind right now. You need to take a rest, you need to clear your mind. This isn't you. You would never do this."
Yoshi glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Why do you continue this act? Why do you continue to hide behind the form of my son? Why do you continue to act as if you care for my wellbeing?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Why do you still try to delude me, confuse me?"
"Because I do care about you! I care about you because you are my father! I care because you have cared for me for sixteen years! Because I'm your son!"
Leonardo realised the words were a mistake when Splinter's eyes hardened once more.
"Do not speak such lies. You continue to dishonour my Leonardo." He rose to his full height, towering over the helpless turtle. "I cannot allow this." He cocked his head as if listening to someone speak, and then nodded decisively, as if in agreement with whomever he was listening to. "I have shown mercy thus far, kappa. I have tolerated your disrespect towards me. But by keeping this form, you continue to disrespect my son. This, I will not tolerate."
Leonardo felt an unfamiliar twinge of fear coil in his chest and stomach.
With the speed of a rattlesnake, his jaw was grabbed once again.
"W-wait!"
"Be quiet, demon."A command. So used to obediently following that voice, Leonardo almost found himself complying, out of habit. But alas, and thankfully, his survival instinct kicked in and he was quick to protest, in an act of self-preservation.
"Father, please! No!" His jaw trembled as his voice rose in an almost child-like whimper. "Father, father!"
"I said be silent!"
"But father, it is me! Please, you must believe me!" He searched his father's eyes in desperate hysteria for any trace of the man that raised and cared for him. "Father! Sensei? No! No!" He called out to his father, ignoring the blood that trailed down his neck from the excessive movement. He did his best to pull away from the hold on his chin, but to no prevail. It pained Splinter to see this...creature that looked so much like his son shy away from his touch, but he could not let this demon fool him yet again. He had to be strong, for his sons. This was for his sons. It was all for his sons.
"Be quiet!" The kappa refused to do so, continuing to spew lies. "If you will not be silent, I will make you silent."
"…W-what? Father?"
"Enough!"
Readjusting his grip on the young turtle's jaw, Splinter tilted the blade just so, relishing in the turtle's newfound silence. Years of ninja and assassination training took over, and the blade pierced green skin exactly where it needed to. Blood began to pour immediately, pooling and catching on the turtle's shell and collarbone. A low whine escaped his throat, strangled and choked.
Pain like Leonardo had never known before exploded not only in his neck, but in his heart and stomach, as he watched his father slice open his neck with his own tantō blade. A whimpering sob managed to leak out of his vocal chords, sending pain flaring up and down his body.
"This will not kill you, kame." Splinter stated coldly.
"F-fa…ther?" His voice had been reduced to a hoarse whisper.
"Do not try to speak. You will only make the process more difficult."
Mind clouded with pain, Leonardo couldn't even try to interpret what his father meant by that. Eyes closing instinctively, Leonardo could only wait through the pain, feeling the sickening sensation of his own blood rolling out from the gash in his neck and down his arms.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Splinter released his jaw and moved it down to the open wound. Carefully, he peeled back the loose skin, revealing tender pink flesh. Leonardo screamed out in pure agony.
Drip.
With his other hand, the tantō is strategically placed.
Drip.
The first hand is shifted so that it is pinning back the flap of skin, while holding the turtle's neck in place.
Drip.
Splinter leaned in closer to inspect the flesh, using the knife's blunt end to search the tissue behind the bleeding larynx.
Drip.
A sick grin split across his face, the crazed look returning in his eye.
Drip.
The tantō is poised, ready to strike.
Drip.
Something snapped.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Drip.
Leonardo woke to his own bloody plastron, dried brown splotches and swirling blood still undried. He wanted nothing more than to wipe it off, wipe it all off. If he could, he would have jumped into a vat of boiling water and scrubbed this all off. The blood, the dirt, the bruises, and the sick horror of it all. The ropes binding his arms and wrists had not slackened, however.
His throat was sore.
In all honesty, Leo was both amazed and dismayed that he is still alive.
Clotted blood and congested phlegm vibrated in his chest every time he tried to breathe in. In a moment of clouded judgement, he attempted to clear it. And immediately, he wished he was still unconscious. The small movement was enough to rack his body with unbearable pain. Mottled clumps of blood flew from his mouth as he began convulsing in pain, each involuntary movement making him shake and shudder.
"Do not try to speak." the voice that haunted his nightmares advised. At the sound of it, Leonardo flinched, vainly trying to curl up on himself.
Please. Please no more.
"I had warned you, but you refused to listen." He almost sounded apologetic, like the father Leonardo remembered, gently chiding his eldest child. The thought alone made him shudder in horror. This was not his father. His father would never...his father would never tie him to a stake and beat him with a cane and cut him open with a knife.
Oh Lord.
His throat. What had Splinter done to his throat?
Suddenly, a horrible fire spread across his neck and chest. In a sick imitation of a groan, Leonardo did his best to protest. A clawed hand pulled a damp cotton swab across his gaping wound. Rubbing alcohol. Isopropyl. The type Donnie used to patch him up after a fight.
Donnie.
Raph.
Mikey.
Where were they? Where were his brothers? Leonardo prayed to every god and deity he had ever heard of, begging Fate for his brothers to be safe, and out of the clutches of this sick image of their father.
No matter what happens to me, please, please just let them be okay.
Flinching, Leonardo watched in sick terror as Splinter's hand, the hand that used to hold him as he slept, drew closer to his already wounded neck. Again, he felt nauseatingly aware of how vulnerable he was in this position. Heart pounding in disgusting familiarity, he did his best to pull away. Unfortunately, this only seemed to make Splinter's job easier. The turtle felt a sharp pinch right underneath his chin, dangerously close to the open lesion on his throat. It was a sharp pain, but nothing compared to what he had endured in the past 24 hours. The hand retreated with a small object held between two fingers. The rat discarded it behind him, tossing behind him carelessly.
What was tha- oh. OH.
It had been a chunk of his skin, his flesh.
The turtle felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced it down. He could only imagine the repercussions if he managed to vomit on the rat.
"When Leonardo was five years old, he asked me of Japan. He loved to listen to my stories of the Hamato clan, Miwa and Tang Shen. He was such a promising child. How much, I wonder, was truly my child?" he rambled absentmindedly. Leonardo listened half-heartedly, heart torn between the real torment that Splinter seemed to be enduring, and his newfound terror of the rat. "The other kappa were just as stubborn." He snapped to attention. Splinter took no notice, only continued to clean the laceration. Then, abruptly, his fond, nostalgic smile turned maniacal. He turned to face the turtle. "But do not worry, my son. I have dealt with them, I will not allow them to hurt you. They will hurt you no more; I will protect you."
What? Anxiety and concern for his brothers coiled in his stomach, tighter than before.
Splinter read the worry in Leonardo's eyes and misread it as concern for his own wellbeing. "Are you still afraid, Leonardo?" He leaned in uncomfortably close. So close that Leonardo could see his dilated pupils and bloodshot eyes. So close that Leonardo could taste his breath; his breath was tainted by alcohol, not the comforting scent of sake, but beer, a scent Leonardo never thought he would catch on his Splinter's breath. "Do not be worried, my son." the rat insisted, grabbing the turtle's face and drawing closer still. "I will show you. I will show you how I have dealt with the kappa. I will show you that we are safe now, safe from their trickery."
Oh no. No no no no no no no no.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Splinter disappeared from view. Leonardo listened for the sound of his brothers struggling, shouting, fighting, and grew even more concerned when he heard none.
For the first time in who knows how many hours, Leonardo saw light. He saw bright, white, blinding light that flooded the room and blinded his senses. As his eyes adjusted, everything came into view.
Drip. Dr-drip.
Oh God. What-
This time, Leonardo could do nothing to stop the vomit and bile from escaping. His throat stung immensely, but he barely felt it compared to the stone-heavy dread that sat in his stomach.
Drip.
'Not water,' he realised. 'Blood.'
In his horror, he could do nothing but scream.
Too bad he couldn't even do that.
"But Daddy, I barely even touched 'im!" True to his fashion, Raphael stamped his foot impatiently. Splinter couldn't help the tired sigh that escaped his lips.
"Yes my son, but that doesn't change the fact that your brother is hurt." Tenderly, he lifted Donatello's leg to inspect it carefully. "It is not too bad, it will heal nicely in a week or so." he smiled softly at his injured son. He turned back to the one who dealt the damage. "Raphael, please apologise to your brother."
Raphael muttered something inaudible, staring at the floor.
"What was that, Raphael?"
"I'm sorry." he grumbled. Then, under his breath: "Sorry that you're such a wimp."
"Raphael!"
"It's okay, Daddy." Donatello pulled on his father's sleeve sweetly. "It's really not that bad."
CRASH!
Gathering the patience of a monk, Splinter took a deep breath and rose to see what trouble his other two sons had gotten themselves into.
"Ow!"
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Picking up his pace now, Splinter scurried into the living room. "Leonardo! What happened here?"
His eldest son turned to him with wide eyes, instinctually bowing his head.
"I-I'm sorry. I really am, Sensei. I didn't mean to, we were just-" Splinter sighed, closing his eyes and raising a paw to silence his son. One son was too quick to apologise while the other was completely averse to it. What was he to do with them?
"It is alright, Leonardo. What has happened?"
"We were just playing," his son glanced down nervously, shuffling his feet. "And I accidentally pushed Mikey too hard. He fell and hurt his arm." Peeking up at his father, the young boy waited apprehensively for his father's reaction. Splinter's gaze shifted to his other son who was sitting on the floor, cradling his elbow with wide eyes. Resisting the urge to rub his temples, he scooped up his small son and beckoned for Leonardo to follow him to the couch.
"Raphael, Donatello, come here as well."
The two turtles who had been watching from within the dojo, complied quietly, Donatello limping slightly from the small scrape on his knee, but otherwise unhindered by it.
"My sons, you are at an age at which you are growing rapidly. Your bodies are bigger now than they were before, you need to be more careful around each other." he chided softly, looking each child in the eye. He felt small fingers reach up and tug his whiskers in a cry for attention.
"Yes, Michelangelo?"
"But Daddy, sometimes we can't help it. Like just now. It wasn't Leo's fault. It was an accident." he protested. His elder brother smiled softly, and Splinter felt his heart soften at his son's unconditional love for one another.
"Yes my son, it was an accident. And it is good that you realise this." He continued speaking before his son could interrupt. "And we are lucky that it was such a minor injury. But when this happens, it is very important that we apologise to your brothers, so that you know that you did not mean to hurt each other."
Raphael scrunched up his brow in thought. "But what about the bad guys? The humans? You said that they wan'ed to hurt us an' I don' think that they would wanna apologise to us." Splinter smiled forlornly.
"That is because they do not care for us, Raphael." How he wished it wasn't this way. His sons deserved so much more than this cruel life. "You love your brothers, do you not?"
Raphael nodded hesitantly, but not unsure.
"Hurting others cannot be prevented. But when we hurt the people we love, we must apologise to them. Because family is all we have. It is a sad truth, but it is the truth. In this life, we can only depend on our family." Swallowing thickly, Splinter knelt down and gathered up all his sons. "You must promise me something, my sons. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, of course, Father."
"What is it?"
"I need to you to promise me that you will never hurt one another. I need you to promise that you will always protect each other, that you will never hurt your brothers."
The turtles exchanged glances. "But you just said-"
"You will understand when you are older." Splinter clutched his sons desperately, closing his eyes tightly. "You must promise me this. Please promise me this."
Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo glanced at each other, then back at their father.
"We promise, Daddy."
Flesh. Tangled, rotting flesh. He couldn't seem to remove the disgustingly sweet scent of decaying flesh from his nostrils. Had that been there before? Broken shards of bone stuck out of grey flesh, he could see the marrow of their bones. He could see the inside of their bones. His brothers hung from the ceiling, unseeing eyes boring into his body, glaring, accusing.
How could you let this happen?
Why didn't you protect us?
You foolishly allowed yourself to be captured and these are the consequences you must suffer.
His brothers. His poor, poor brothers.
Still tied to the wooden pole, he was forced to face the rotting corpses of his brothers. Even as he closed his eyes, he could not remove the image of their faces, frozen in fear and betrayal, jaws hanging open in a cut-off scream.
How had it come to this?
His father. His own father had killed his brothers and cut out his vocal chords. "If you will not be silent, I will make you silent."
He began to cry. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home to his father who was still sane and his brothers who were still alive. He wanted to curl up here and die. He wanted his father to hold him again and tell him that it would all be okay. He wanted to run far away from this sick man who looked and spoke like his father. He wanted to run with his brothers out in the open roofs of New York. He wanted to spar with Raph and read with Donnie and joke with Mikey. He wanted to meditate with his father and listen to folklore about Japan.
He opened his eyes again, maybe if he wished hard enough, things would go back to normal. From hooks on the ceiling his brothers hung, suspended in the air. Pus and blood ran from long gashes on their faces and sides.
Vomit dribbled down Donatello's chin.
Flesh hung from Raphael's eyeball down to his chin.
Michelangelo's neck rested at an unnatural angle.
'You promised!' they screamed at him. 'Protect us always, never hurt us, never let us come to harm.'
You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed.
Drip.
You couldn't protect us.
Drip. Drip.
A gaping hole was left in Raphael's chest. So his loyalty he felt for his brothers would be ripped out along with his heart.
Bite marks littered Michelangelo's face where chunks of flesh were missing. So his contagious smile would never light up again.
Donatello's skull had been partially crushed, permanently deformed. So he would never plan another brilliant invention.
He had preferred the darkness. He had thought he was going crazy in the persistent darkness, but anything was better than staring into the eyes of his brothers' corpses.
"I will protect you, my son." Splinter muttered from beyond his sight. No. Please no. No more. "I have always protected you. I will find your brothers as well. I will not let these kappa tear our family apart. You need not fear, Donatello. No...not Donatello, Raphael. I'm sorry, my son. You will be reunited with your brothers very soon."
He's crazy. He's a maniac.
Drip. Drip.
Maybe I'm the one who's crazy. Maybe I'm locked up in some mental ward, and this is all just some screwed up figment of my mind.
He dared not be so hopeful.
"Is it better to be aware and in pain, or ignorant and happy?" Donatello had once asked him. At the time, he had thought the answer was obvious: knowledge of the truth was much more valuable than ignorant bliss. Now he was not so sure. He'd much rather be in hopeful ignorance that his brothers were somewhere safe. This cruel reality was too much to take, but he'd stopped hoping this was some crazy dream after the fifth day.
I change my mind. Donnie, I change my mind, I change my mind!
Footsteps. He was coming. He was coming back. Leonardo felt the tears flow even faster than before. What more was to come? Had he not suffered enough already?
"Where are my sons?" the rat was screeching. "Where are they? Tell me kappa! What have you done with my sons?" Splinter walked up to Michelangelo's hanging body, bokken in hand. When the lifeless turtle refused to answer, Splinter struck his legs with the wooden sword, making his body sway from the force. Leonardo sobbed harder. "Answer me, demon!" He struck the body once more, making the chains that held it rattle. With a scream of frustration, he brought the bokken back and swung it repeatedly, striking the dead body harder and harder each time.
Stop! STOP!
With one particularly hard hit, the wooden staff collided with already-decaying bone. There was a horrible clatter as a piece of Michelangelo's carapace broke off and fell to the floor. It was the most horrible sound Leonardo had ever heard.
Panting, the old rat came to a stop. He glared fiercely at the corpse, which stubbornly stayed silent. With a feral growl, he whipped around to face the other kappa.
"You!" Leonardo shrunk back as much as he could. "You are their leader, are you not?" The rodent strode over menacingly. "You will tell me where my sons are." To his dismay, Splinter seemed to have forgotten that he had taken his ability to speak, and the rat's eyes narrowed as he remained unspeaking. "Insolence! You continue to torment me! You will pay. You must pay!" He raised the bokken. Like the crack of a whip, the sound of polished wood striking flesh was a haunting tune that seemed not to stop. "Anata no koto daikirai!" I hate you. I hate you. His father was telling him that he hated him. "Koroshite yare!" I'll kill you.
Haven't you already?
"Daddy, why don't the humans like us?"
"They are afraid because we are different. They do not understand that we are people, no matter of our appearance."
"So we'll never be able to be like other people?"
"I'm afraid not, my son. But do not fear, for I will always love you."
"I'm sorry, my son. Oh, my son." A furry muzzle was pressed to his forehead in a soft kiss. It was comforting, yet completely wrong. "Gomen nasai. Hontou ni, gomen nasai."
Leonardo wanted to pull away, he wanted to hiss in the rat's face and make it clear that he did not see him as a father figure anymore. But something about the embrace was so familiar that he found himself melting into it anyways. It felt like a betrayal. A mockery to his dead siblings. Yet he could not make himself protest. Splinter rubbed his arms soothingly, whispering in Japanese about how he was so sorry and that everything would be alright now.
"It is alright now. Tousan is here now." It almost felt real. The words were so comforting to listen to, that Leonardo could almost close his eyes and imagine that everything was truly alright. He could almost pretend that his father was sane and he had snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, or that none of this had ever happened. Almost. "You know that it is so hard for me to tell when the yōkai are here. I did not mean to hurt you, my son." And the illusion was shattered. Leonardo stiffened immediately at the words. Splinter felt his tension and frowned down.
"Leonardo? Daijoubu ka? Is everything alri-" Splinter froze. "You are not my son." His arms dropped off of Leonardo, as if they had never been there in the first place. "You are not my son. You are not- what have you done?" his voice rose to a screech. "Who are you? Who has sent you?" Three untrimmed claws raked their way across Leonardo's face. The terrapin closed his eyes, accepting the pain without complaint. "It was Saki, was it not? It is always Saki! Why? Have you not tormented me enough? You have taken one child from me already, I will not allow you to take another!" He began to hyperventilate, eyes darting around wildly, as if looking for his eternal tormenter. "You will not touch my sons! I will not let you! They are my children, you will not hurt them!" Then, unexpectedly, he collapsed. And began to cry. He buried his face in his palms and curled up on himself.
"They are my children," he sobbed. "You will not hurt them. You will not hurt them. I won't let you hurt them. Not again."
"Not again."
"Raph, you can't go in there!" Leo protested as his brother began tearing off the wooden planks, revealing the abandoned tunnel.
"Hey, it's my turn. You're supposed to follow my lead!"
"But Splinter says-"
"Splinter says, Splinter says." Raph interrupted. "When you gonna think for yourself? That's what a real leader does. Splinter's not always right, you know."
"Leo? Leo!" Leonardo's eyes were pried open by sticky fingers. Groaning he tried to move them away, only to remember that his hands were bound fast. "Oh Leo, what did they do to you?"
"-onnie?" Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of his younger brother carefully inspecting his wounds.
"Yeah bro, it's me." Donatello smiled softly. "We're getting you out of here, okay?"
"We?" Leo shook his head in muddled confusion as the ropes around his wrists and arms slackened and fell off. "Donnie- how?"
"Don't worry 'bout it, bro." he heard an achingly familiar voice murmur in his ear. "We need to get out of here, now." Two pairs of arms slipped under his own and pulled him to his feet. Having not used them for so long, he stumbled and nearly fell. Luckily, Michelangelo reached out with ninja speed and grabbed him before he could hit the floor.
"Guys, how are you- I thought you were-" He shook his head to clear it. "Dead."
His brothers shared concerned glances. "Leo...Bro, what did they do to you? What did they tell you?" Mikey gripped him tighter, his voice uncharacteristically sorrowful.
"They-no he...he- I saw it. I saw you. You were...you weren't alive." His body began to shake in confusion and exhaustion. "I saw it. I saw it." he insisted. "And and and an' he-"
"Who?" Raphael's gruff voice demanded. "Who did 'is to you, bro?"
"It was him. You were dead. You were all dead. It was horrible." he continued to ramble. Donnie crouched down to stare into his eyes.
"Who, Leo?" he pressed urgently. "Who did this?"
"...Splinter."
Donatello blinked. His eyes narrowed calculatingly. "What are you talking about?"
"It...it was him. It was Splinter! He... he he he" Leo stuttered, glancing around in case the rat happened to appear.
"You're not making any sense." Mikey frowned. "Splinter- he would never-"
"No! It was him!" Leo insisted. "You have to believe me, or else...or else he'll..."
Raph frowned, his eyes darkening dangerously. "Is this some kinda sick joke? 'Cause it ain't funny, Leo."
Leo fought his way out of his younger brother's grip, a sickeningly familiar sense of dread bubbling in his stomach. "No! Please believe me. You have to believe me! You need to stop him. Or it'll happen again!"
"Leo, calm down and think about this rationally for a second." Donnie placed a placating hand on his shoulder. "This is Master Splinter we're talking about." Leo shook his head frantically.
"It really was him. I- I saw him with my own eyes! It must have been him, it-otherwise...why don't you believe me?" he cried out in frustration.
Frowning skeptically, but always one to hear a person out, Donatello encouraged his brother to speak. "Are you absolutely sure it was him?"
"Yes!"
Raphael, on the other hand, was not so willing to listen. "Leo, I don't know what you're going on about Master Splinter being evil or whatever, but I'm not having it. He would never do this! He's our father, Leo!" He looked to his other brothers for support. "Tell me you guys aren't buying into this!"
"Raph, please! Guys?"
"No Leo, I- I can't believe what you're saying." Mikey stepped back to stand with Raphael. "I- I don't know what happened to you, or what these people did to you," he continued, eyes wide. "But I can't believe that our dad would do this to you."
"No, it really was him! Please, you need to believe me, I'm telling the truth!"
"Stop it, Leo!" His youngest brother shut his eyes tight, blatantly refusing to listen anymore. "He's our dad!" He began to back up, away from his brothers. He's our father! He would never-"
"Mikey...?" Donatello's tone sounded alarmed, "What is-"
"Mikey, watch out!"
"No, Mikey!"
"AAAAUUGH-"
"Michelangelo!"
Leonardo awoke screaming silently.
"You have not been yourself. You must release what festers within you. Your family will help you, Leonardo."
The kame's first memories are of pain, and then comfort.
His first interactions are with a creature unlike himself: tall, grey, and covered in hair.
He learns of his many names.
Demon.
"Be gone, demon!"
Kappa.
"Treacherous kappa!"
Leonardo.
"Gomen nasai, Leonardo."
My son.
"I will save you, my son."
He is called many other things: impostor, yōkai, child. Not only these, but strange words with a certain familiarity: Donatello, Michelangelo, Raphael.
The kame has no sense of time. He does not know how long he has been here. He does not know how long the pain lasts before comfort is offered. Both can be anticipated, however.
One day, he wakes up to the sharp blade. He prefers the wooden stick to the sharp blade; both are painful, but the deep blue marks left by the wooden stick will fade, but the stinging cuts made by the sharp blade never fade. Instead, they turn to white marks, bumpy and hard to look at.
"Do these kappa disturb you, my son?" The creature gestures to the hanging masses behind him. Like the creature and the pain, they have always been there. "Do they haunt you when you close your eyes?" The creature strokes the kame's face. This is new, this is different. He offers comfort without pain. Where is the pain? "It needs not be like this. It does not need to be like this. I can make it go away. I can make it all go away."
Comfort. Where is the pain?
PAIN!
He does not cry out, he never does. Liquid flows from his eyes, liquid flows from his body.
For the first time, the kame learns the meaning of loss.
He never sees the creature ever again.
He never sees anything ever again.
From then on, the kame always awakens to darkness.
"I can make it go away. I can make it all go away." It was the first time the kame learned that words could be good, and words could be bad. These words were bad. They meant change, they meant loss. "You are in pain; I can feel your pain. It does not need to be this way." Comfort without pain? It should not be like this.
Pain. Lots of pain.
"It is alright, child. I will make it all alright." Pain and comfort should not coexist in this way. "It will all be over soon."
He does not cry out, he never does. Liquid flows from his eyes, liquid runs from his body. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His eyes widen, but he sees no more than he did before. The creature lied. He said the pain would go away. This is pain like he's never known it before. Pain like fire spreads across his body. It hurts. Everything hurts. But a different kind of hurt, deep inside his chest. He wants it to go away. Why won't it go away?
"Do not cry, you know I hate it when you cry." Something twists inside of him, kame gasps. This is not right. He feels liquid on his chest. The creature is crying.
The darkness is dimming, and suddenly the black nothingness isn't as scary as it used to be. The pain is fading too. The creature was right, the pain is going away. The pain would stop soon. This is good.
"Not much longer, my son." The creature's voice is softer now. "It will stop soon. Very soon, I promise." Soon.
"Daddy, will you read to me?"
"It is getting late, Leonardo. You should be in bed."
"...Okay. Goodnight, Daddy. I love you."
"I love you too."
"Oyasumi, musuko."
Goodnight, my son.
I apologise for my rusty Japanese, gomen nasaiiii :(
I hope the ending didn't seem to rushed; I didn't bother to proofread this story. Sorry again.
And also sorry for the sudden change in tenses, I know it seems weird, but it just made more sense to me to write the last part in present tense.
Thank you for reading and for sticking through this story.
