Disclaimer: I own no mutant turtles, just this ficcie.

Deliver Me

People find peace in religion. They enjoy having some Higher Power to turn to, to pray to. People like to feel safe, watched out for, so they wrap the ideals of religion tight around themselves like a blanket to shield themselves from the cold cruelty of the world, hoping the warmth of God will take the pain away. Everyday millions pray to their many Gods, devoting themselves heart and soul, mind and body to Him, like a soldier dedicates himself his general, like an addict that surrenders to addiction.

A lot of people find comfort in religion, in God, but he doesn't. Raphael doesn't believe in God, not since he bailed a little over a year ago to "find himself" in the heart of some remote jungle in Central America. What good did that little vacation do? Leonardo came back, but he believes he's the same, that nothing's changed. Raphael believes the same; Leo's as weak as ever in his opinion. While he was off meditating under waterfalls, Raph was the one watching over the city, getting stronger and doing something worth while with his life and time.

The rain falls but the sound of the city's tears is drown out by the sound of metal hitting concrete. They fight each other and, for a moment, it seems Raph has the upper hand. Until his helmet is knocked off by an uppercut by Leo. Suddenly the rain screams as Raph's forced to stare at Leo, eye to eye, without the protection of the tinted visor of his Nightwatcher helmet. Staring into those eyes makes his stomach sick. The only remedy for the nausea comes in the form of his sais. Leo takes his two ninjaken reluctantly, and the rain is once more rendered silent as metal clashes with metal, as two brothers fight.

Raphael used to believe in God, when they were younger, when he was stupid and naive. When Leo was his older brother and not their leader, the obligatory hero of their quartet of misfits. Leonardo was God – he could do anything. He could hold his own against his three brothers in training and somehow be the last one standing as his younger brothers struggled to get off their backs, laughing like the young fools they were. He could sit for hours with Splinter and meditate without flinching a muscle, something none of the others could do – especially Mikey. On more than on occasion, it had been Leo to chase away the monsters that showed themselves at night, in his brothers' dreams. Even Raphael's.

They had been very young, three, maybe four, and Raph woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat that felt like liquid ice running down his spine. He panted and searched his room instinctively for the horrors of his dreams. He found none, but still the fear was there and he just could not remember those breathing techniques Splinter had started teaching them earlier that day. He thought of going to Splinter, but he never made it passed Leo's bedroom. Leo was his brother and, even though he loved their father with everything he was, Raph shared that bond brothers have with Leo. He didn't bother knocking, he simply pushed the door open and slipped inside without making a sound. Leo stirred, sat up and stared curiously at his younger brother as best he could while rubbing one eye sleepily. Raph said nothing, only shuffled over to Leo's bed and slipped in between the blue sheets. When Leo laid back down, he put an arm around his brother, like it was a natural thing to do. And back then, it had been. The way they looked out for each other had been the simplest, most natural thing in the world to do.

Metal blades scream as two different weapons are forced together, and the memory is dead now. Leo is not the same God he was when they were kids. Raph can see it in his eyes – the light that shone through has dimmed over the years. There's no guidance in his eyes, and even if there was Raph's not sure he'd take whatever "good advice" his brother could offer. The words of God would fall on deaf ears now.

They're inches apart with their weapons between them, pushed together and the metal of sword and sai is starting to strain. A flick of Raph's wrist and the swords come out of Leo's hands. A downward jerk from Leo would easily send the sais flying and Raph onto his back. But neither make the move, not yet. Leo's eyes dart from the weapons in their hands to Raph's face, and it is that moment when Raph can't take the stare anymore. Gritting his teeth, he pushes harder against Leo's swords. The blades give and snap under the sudden force. Leo looks at the stubs in his hands, then to Raph, but it's too late. Before he knows what happens, he's on his back and Raph's on top of him and the sai is coming down and –

– the tip of it pierces the concrete, just beside Leo's head.

The brothers stare at each other. Leo looks accepting. Raph looks murderous. The younger of the two pants heavily, ignoring the way the rain is sucked into his mouth as he stares down at Leo.

He's had Leo pinned under him like this before, the situation slightly different. They moved together and moaned and panted. They ached and arched and held their breath. They laid together, sated; Leo under Raph's weight and Raph nuzzling the crook of Leo's neck. But that was long ago, another distant memory.

Raph's brow furrows as he stares at his brother, the memory lingering, not as easy to kill as the first. The feeling resurfaces, makes his heart ache and his stomach is upset again. That feeling is the reason why Leo is more than just his brother, why he's –

What in the hell had he been thinking? He could have killed him. He almost did. A few centimeters to the side and...

Raph pulls away. His weapons feel heavy in his hands, so he lets them fall. He breathes deeply, the smell of the rain on the concrete bringing him back to reality, crushing his rage and replacing it with guilt.

He says nothing as he turns away and runs. His feet are quick and his heavy heart is beating even faster. He closes his eyes, relying on old blindfolded training sessions to get him across the rooftops of New York. But all he sees is Leo's face, those accepting eyes that could burn the truth into skulls thicker than Raphael's. He intends to go back home and sleep, but not in his own bed. He will wait for Leo to come home and find him laying in his bed, ready for punishment, or forgiveness, from his older brother. He will repent for his sins, and God isn't dead yet.

-End

Written while listening to Vertical Horizon's You're a God. Prompted by the line: you're a god and I am not and I just thought I'd let you go.