If time could be stopped, if only for a second, it'd be shrieking at him to relinquish his control. If moments could be bottled he'd have dozens of jars sitting atop his shelves. If he could see into the future, he'd have imbedded each quiet moment alone into his brain. If he had known…he wouldn't have let him leave.
The rain beat down upon the earth below, soaking anything and everything that dared be out in such a down pour. Lightning flashed across the sky occasionally, lighting up the entire sky in a second and leaving it dark the next. Even street dogs knew to take cover during the storm.
Metal cut through the air in practiced, perfect form. Each move of his limbs and each arch of the metal were robotic. Practiced many times before to the point he could do it without thinking. The rain had long ago soaked the roof he stood atop and the bandana he wore around his head. Yet he continued. He couldn't stop…not yet.
His body shook once in a while and his grip would tighten ever so slightly. Sometimes his movements would become more wild…less controlled. He clenched his teeth and forced the movements to become smooth again. He listened to the rhythmic patter of the rain on the roof and metal.
His breathing started to become heavy as his movements became wild. This time, however, he didn't bother to stop its inevitable control. He let his weapons slice through the air violently as his face contorted into a look of rage.
Screw control! His body was lost to each violent and rage filled movement as he yelled at someone who wasn't there. That only seemed to anger him further. Lighting flashed in the sky again and anyone who would be unfortunate to peer up at the rooftop would be startled.
Thankfully no one was there to listen to each enraged cry and watch each violent twist of his body. Each arch intended to kill not stun. Anger, abandonment, rejection. His weapons clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees with a heavy thud. There was no one to tell him to get a grip or calm down. He pounded the ground with his fists and let his forehead rest on the cold, wet rooftop.
He wanted to be told what an idiot he was being sitting out in the pouring rain and to get back to the lair before he got sick. Then be reminded of the last time he had been forced to stay in bed for a week and be told what a horrible patient he was. But the one who would be the one to speak the words wasn't there.
He pounded the ground again before sitting up and unleashing every curse in his vocabulary at the unsuspecting sky. He hated how he felt. He hated how much the feeling of abandonment hurt. Everything was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't stop it no matter how he tried or wished.
He couldn't deal with it. None of them could really, but he didn't know how to mask it like they did. No doubt he was an open book for their father to read. In truth…they all were.
Michalangelo could hide behind a smile well, but he would cringe whenever Splinter looked directly into his eyes. His eyes were the only things he didn't know how to mask and the hurt shone through like a beacon. Laughter was his mask and he wore it well.
Donatello simply immersed himself within his work. If he didn't have to interact with anyone they wouldn't notice his inner turmoil. He frowned more often than usual when working and found every excuse possible to keep buried in projects. It would take him a moment to turn from his desk to look at Splinter with a calm expression.
Raphael just kept himself locked within his room or was on the surface. It was easy to act normal in front of his brothers, they were busy trying to keep their own masks up, but he tended to avoid Splinter. If their father was allowed one look he'd know everything and that wasn't allowed to happen.
Everything was thrown off kilter and it was all his fault! He's the one who left, he's the one who stopped writing, and he's the one who didn't come back! Didn't they matter to him anymore?
Raphael wasn't sure if he was going to go into another fit of rage or just collapse on the roof top until morning.
'Why am I going through this?' He wondered as he watched another lightning bolt light up the sky somewhere far.
"He doesn't care so why should I! Y'know what Leo? You can stay gone! We don't need ya!" He yelled as he gathered his abandoned weapons. He'd continue on strong as ever. Leonardo may be gone, but someone needed to pick up the slack. He forced memories of the blue clad turtle into the back of his mind, refusing to let them play in his mind like a broken record again.
He began the long walk back to the lair, not really noticing the rain pounding against his shell anymore.
Who needed the fearless leader anyway….
III
Tijiya: I loved the conflict between Raphael and Leonardo in the newest movie! It's what got me hooked in the first place. So I finally managed to do a piece about it! Can you see that bit of something weaved in there oh so carefully? I hope so. I tried not to make it obvious. Neeway, enjoy! The song of inspiration for this, oddly enough, was Hallelujah.
Also, I am a writer, I thrive on reviews.
TMNT (c) Hasbro