Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it, and happy Thursday to those who don't.

This piece has absolutely nothing to do with the holiday. I was in a mood, I needed to write something angsty, and insomnia kindly provided the time to do so.

This is not festive in any way. You have been warned.

It's in his posture, the way his shoulders stand so perfectly squared, not tensed but not relaxed. The way his back is always straight and tall, no hunch or droop in sight. The way his smile almost mocks everything around it with it's extreme confidence. The way his voice always carries an air of superiority, even when he's complimenting. Especially when he's complimenting.

But mostly his eyes.

Those dark blue eyes that look down on the rest of the world as unworthy. Lacking in skill and strength and strategy and everything he does with such ease.

Perfection.

That's what he is. Thinks he is. Tries way too hard to be.

Looking at everyone as though they're beneath him.

Looking at us.

Looking at me.

Some days I can take it. Some days I can ignore it and throw my fist through something solid and hear the crack that drowns out his disapproval and forget he's watching. Forget he's judging.

And some days I can't. Some days throwing my fist through something would only help if it was his skull. Anything to close those self-righteous eyes and shut that sanctimonious mouth.

Some days I hate him. Truly hate him.

Some days.

Today.

"Raph!"

I punched the last of the goons out, throwing him on top of the pile, enjoying the site of all five of 'em groaning in unconsciousness. Didn't even break a sweat. 'Course Leo had to show up and ruin the moment.

"Raph, what are you doing?"

"Couple of scrawny ones got away. Didn't want them missing out on the fun." Not that I owe him an explanation.

"I told you not to go after them, we were supposed to stay and check the warehouse."

I see him glance disapprovingly at the puddle of KO'd thugs down the alley. He has that look like he's about to jump down my throat with a lecture of some sort. I'm already rolling my eyes.

"Don't get your shell in a bunch, I was gonna head back once they were taken care of."

"You shouldn't have left. The Dragons aren't going to let us have their new weapons shipment without a fight. They're probably already sending reinforcements. We need to get back and help Don and Mikey."

Like I didn't know all that already. I swear he treats me like an idiot on purpose sometimes, just to piss me off. "I said I was gonna head back. If you're so worried about it, why'd you leave those two to deal with it alone?"

"Because you took off! And I didn't want you out here fighting alone."

"I don't need a babysitter, Leo! I can handle myself!" My hands clench into fists as I see him hold back a scoff. The arrogant jerk actually thought I couldn't take care of a few Purple Dragons on my own? Of course he didn't. Only Leo can take care of himself. Only the great and powerful Leonardo knows how to fell his enemies without the aid of his brothers. God forbid his siblings actually try to do something on their own!

"I told you not to go after them, Raph. It wasn't a suggestion."

I freeze, my back to my brother as my hands curl even tighter. I can feel my blood boiling through my skin. Did he just— "Oh, I see what this is about. The Great Fearless Leader gave an order and the insignificant subordinate didn't obey."

As soon as I turn, I see his eyes roll at my comment. It's a testament to my self control that I don't lay him out right here and now. He's pissed that I didn't obey his every whim, and then he has the gall to act like I'm the one being a pain in the shell.

For a minute, he just stands there, staring me down like he's deciding how patronizing to be in his reply. I can see the anger building behind his mask and I so badly want to see him let it loose so I have an excuse to pound on him. Even just a little.

"We're going back. Now."

"Was that a suggestion?"

He stops just before he turns away and I know I'm pushing my luck. But I can't help it. His eyes are still staring at me like I'm the biggest idiot in the world for thinking for myself instead of listening to his oh-so-wise orders, and it pisses me off more than anything in the world.

"No. It wasn't."

"Screw you, Leo!" I hate him. "I'm not some lacky you can order around with the flick of a wrist!"

I hate his smug face.

"I never said you were a lacky."

His condescending eyes.

"Yet you get pissed every time I don't ask 'how high' whenever you tell me to jump!"

"I'm the leader, Raph. It's my job to give the orders!"

I hate him.

"And don't you just love pointing that out every chance you get."

"We don't have time for this."

"No, of course not! There's only ever time to berate your brothers, not explain your actions."

"I don't have to explain myself to you!"

He blinks, like he was surprised the words came out of his mouth. But we both know he means them. And I've never wanted to punch my brother's teeth out so bad. "So that's how it is, huh? The Great Leonardo knows all and doesn't need to waste time explaining himself to the rest of us mere mortals."

"That's not what I—"

"That's exactly what you meant!" I'm fuming now. Inching closer to his face so he has to look at me, has to look me in the eye while he spouts his excuses. "That's what you're always about, isn't it? Proving that you're better than everybody else, that you're smarter, stronger, and faster than everyone! And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock 'em down a peg to make yourself feel better!"

He's quiet. I can see I've hit a nerve; his eyes have that look like they're tryin' really hard not to show emotion. But I don't give a damn. I'll step on as many nerves as I have to to make him realize that he's not God and he doesn't control us.

He doesn't control me.

"You think you don't measure up?"

It came so far outta left field, the words take a good minute to sink in. I can feel my blood pumping faster as my defences go up. "Where the hell did that come from!?"

"You said 'God forbid someone actually tries to measure up', I assume you were talking about yourself." He stares a minute, his eyes looking me over as though trying to get a read on my mental state. "You don't think you measure up?"

Don't go there, Leo. Leave it alone. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then what—"

"I meant that you're a selfish asshole and I'm done talkin' about this."

I don't give him a chance to respond. It's starting to rain, Mikey and Don are still back at the warehouse alone, and even though it means doing exactly what he'd said to do earlier, I'm ready to do just about anything to keep from talking to him anymore.

He follows me as I climb up the building, taking to the rooftops and leaving the heap of mangled thugs for the cops.

"Raph wait—"

"I said I ain't talkin' about it no more! Back off Leo!"

I don't look back, but I can hear him comin' up behind me with unusually heavy footsteps. Either he's pissed or he's worried, and I don't have enough patience to care which one.

"It has nothing to do with skill level, it's about strategy. You've left Mikey and Donnie wide open to attack."

I can't help but scoff. If the world were to end today, Leo'd find some way to make it my fault.

"We're a team, Raph." Here he goes again. "We need to work together." With that condescending tone.

His hand's suddenly on my shoulder and I bristle immediately, my fists clenching tighter, ready to strike.

"Are you listening to me?"

Back off, Leo. Just back off.

"You can't go off grandstanding every time you dislike an order."

I hate him. One more word and I'll—

"Raph, you need to—"

"I don't need anything!" Hate everything about him. "I don't need your orders! I don't need your leadership! I DON'T NEED YOU!"

I wish he was—

"RAPH!"

I barely have time to process the fear in his voice as my fist flies through the air at his jaw, when something crashes hard into my side. Suddenly I'm flying through the air. Rain's pouring on my face, making it hard to see. Thunder snaps through the wind with a loud crack and every nerve in my body is screaming at me all at once.

Something is very wrong.

I hit the ground hard, hydroplaning across the rooftop until I collide with the brick of the raised trim on the ledge. Damn that hurt! Anger rises as I prepare the mother of all curses to hurl at my brother, who's staring off into the distance, sword drawn and ready.

"Dammit, Leo! What the hell was—"

One of his swords is missing.

I scan the horizon of roofs until I come across the intrusion; an lone purple dragon on the adjacent building, weapon lying limply in his lap, fighting to wrench free from the blade now pinning him to a chimney through his shoulder. Just barely above his heart. His frantic spasms last all of a minute before he stills entirely. Permanently.

Admittedly, it was a nice hit.

Just another notch for Leo to add to his belt of—

I smell blood. Thick and rancid. Can practically taste it on the rain. Can't be the thug's, he's too far away for the downpour not to have drowned out the smell. Then where…

A chill runs down my spine as I freeze in place, staring at the watery puddle of red that's slowly crawling towards me. For a minute, my vision blurs. Everything seems to shut down as I slowly look up, tracking the blood to it's source.

Leo's staring down at his hand by his stomach, eyes wide.

There's blood dripping down his fingers.

The denial nearly chokes me. It can't be… there's no way… "Leo?"

His sword falls to the ground with a clang that rings in my ears incessantly.

I don't remember moving. All of a sudden I'm rushing to his side as he just stares at the blood on his hand.

His shock wears off suddenly and the pain sets in; I know it's sudden because he doesn't have a chance to hide it. His face twists into a grimace that makes my chest tighten to the point that I stumble as I move towards him. I make it to him just as he starts to fall, catching my shoulder under his arm to hold him up. "Leo!" I reach a hand down to the one covering his wound, pulling it away slightly so I can take a look and see how bad.

He's been shot. Leo's been shot.

My mind shuts down as the rain no longer registers and all I can see or smell or think about is the blood, pouring down his stomach and pooling at his feet.

This can't be happening. I refuse to let this happen.

"It's alright bro, I got you."

He leans heavily on my shoulder, breathing shallow and sharp as I watch him try to get a handle on the pain. "There might be more." He grunts out through rasped breaths. "Check the perimeter, in case they—"

"Not a chance. I ain't leavin' you like this." I couldn't even if I wanted to. My legs feel like jello, and my mind won't stop running in panicked circles long enough for me to think straight.

He looks about to protest when a cough cuts him off, dribbling blood over his lips. I ain't no medic, but I know that's a bad sign. Probably means something vital's been hit.

Dammit.

My blood's running colder by the minute as my mind races trying to figure out what the shell I'm supposed to do. The only guy I know who could do any kind of good in this situation is several blocks away, and I can't leave Leo to go get him.

"Pressure."

Leo's voice barely penetrates my jumble of thoughts as I tear my eyes away from his stomach. "What?"

He puts his hand over mine on his stomach and presses it down, suppressing a cry as he does it. "Keep… pressure. Stop the bleeding."

My mind finally clicks, annoyed as hell that I had to be reminded of the obvious. Leo's the one bleeding onto the concrete and he still manages to take charge of the situation. I don't know whether to be proud or pissed, but the latter's always been easier, so I stick to what I do best. "I know." I say curtly, pushing even harder on his stomach as blood squelches through my fingers.

I think I'm gonna be sick.

"The warehouse… Mikey and Don—" He chokes on more blood, turning onto his side so he can spit it up while I hold him steady.

"I know." My voice is sharp, cutting through my fear with anger whenever possible. But Leo's not offended, he looks worried. And not about himself.

"Raph—"

"Just shut up and save your breath, Fearless. I'll give 'em a call, alright?" I take my arm out from around his shoulder, resting him on his shell as I grab my phone, and try to turn away as much as I can while still pressing on his stomach; can't let him see my hand shaking. Why pride matters at a time like this, I don't know.

I don't know why it ever does.

Several rings with no reply had us both on edge. I have to swallow my growing anger as I hang up and redial again. And again.

"Raph?"

Donnie's breathless reply catches me off guard. "Yeah Don. It's—" A loud rumble in the background cuts me off before my brother's winded voice comes through again, a twinge of anger to it that's more worrisome than the background noise.

"Where are you!? We need you here!"

"Don, what's going—"

"Not now!" He cuts off with a grunt and I can hear his boe crack against what I can only assume is bone. They're in the middle of a fight. "Just get back here. Fast! We need you!" Another crack and a groan as Don sends another guy flying, I assume. At least it sounds like they're holding their own. "Is Leo with you?"

It takes me a moment to fight past my anger at what I have to say next and unclench my jaw. "Yeah. Don he's—"

"Save it, Raph! Whatever you two were arguing about, I don't care. Just tell him to get back—"

"He's been shot."

I can practically hear his eyes snap open as he gasps a surprised breath. Apparently the pause must have been enough for an opponent to take advantage because the next sound I hear is Don crying out in pain and then the phone dropping to the floor or slamming against a wall or something of the sort. "Don?" My hand curls tighter around my cell as I grind my teeth, trying my hardest not to chuck the phone against the nearest wall out of sheer frustration.

Mikey and Don were in trouble. Big trouble. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Suddenly I feel Leo's hand on my arm and I turn to face him. He looks as worried as I feel and I got nothing to reassure him with. I turn away and speak as calmly into the phone as I can manage. "Don? Don, you there?"

"Where?"

Again, the sudden reply catches me off guard and I nearly drop the phone. "What the shell, Brainiac—"

"Where's he been shot, Raph?"

No beating around the bush. "Stomach." There's a long silence and I can feel Donnie's fear creeping through the phone, adding to my own. With Don, silence usually means he's calculating a million ways to fix the problem and sorting through to find the best answer. Usually. Sometimes it means he has no answers and he's fighting his own annoyance or fear over not being able to find a solution.

Somehow I get the feeling this is one of those second silences. My body shudders, but I tell myself it's just the cold rain.

"We're on our way. Don't let him move, Raph. Not till I get there, understand? Not even a little bit."

"I got him, egghead. Just hurry your shells up."

The minute I click the phone off, an unexpected weight of fear drops on my shoulders, like it had been waiting to drop until it was just me and Leo. I can still feel him searching for answers in my face, so I put on my most indignant frown and turn back to focus on his stomach. "They're on their way."

"Are they—"

"—Fine. Just taking care of a few unexpected stragglers." More likely it's reinforcements that have arrived to protect their weapons, but I can't think about it. I don't have the mental fortitude to worry about all three siblings being in mortal peril, especially knowing there ain't a damn thing I can do to help any of 'em.

Especially knowing it was all my—

I catch Leo's eyes a moment and notice he's starin' straight at me. He gets this look on his face and I know what he's about to say, so I cut him off before he gets a chance. "Don't even think it."

But he's Leo. Of course he's thinkin' it. "They need help." I can feel his stare bore into me just shy of pleading as I focus on trying to stop the river of blood still coursing through my fingers.

"I ain't leavin' Leo. I leave, you bleed out."

A painful grimace stops his next objection as I press harder on his stomach.

"…What if…"

I follow his gaze to where the sniper lies rotting and my muscles tighten with sudden dread as I catch the thought he's pressing. "They can handle themselves." I say irately, both trying to convince him and myself. "Besides, what force in the universe has ever been able to pin Mikey down when he's all hyped up?"

Leo smiles at that, but it quickly devolves into a cough that rattles his whole body. I can't look at him as it happens, I just keep my eyes on the bullet wound and try to convince myself the bleeding is slowing.

It'll be alright. Don will know what to do. Leo's survived being shot before, no reason why he can't now.

We sit in silence for what feels like a long while, and I am content to keep it that way; I'm still pissed as hell at him and I don't want to make all this worse by shoutin' at him again. Not till Don's patched him up. But his eyes are glossing over and starting to close, so I know I need to do something to keep him awake.

"Hey." My voice startles him from whatever thought he's in the middle of. "Keep them baby blues open, Leo. If you pass out, I ain't givin' you CPR."

"Duly noted." He says with an attempt at a grin. His eyes drift beside him and I know he's looking for Don and Mikey.

"They'll be here soon." I say quickly, trying to silence my own fears of the battle they're fighting on their own. Leo's practically twitching with the need to go find them and make sure they're alright, and I can feel my body tensing the same way. If anything happens to them…

All because I—

Leo's eyes suddenly snap shut as his body starts shaking. The groan of pain that slips from his lips tenses my throat so much I almost can't breathe. I'm not used to seeing Leo in pain. Hurt or bleeding, sure, it happens more than he'll ever admit. But pain… Leo's usually real good at keepin' that to himself.

Yet another thing that Mr. Perfect is oh so good at.

I shake that thought from my mind as quick as I can. Not now. Not when he's—

It takes several minutes before his body stops shaking, but his eyes stay closed. "Leo?" He doesn't reply and I feel every muscle in my body tense. "Leo!" No. No way. Not possible. Moving one of my blood-soaked hands to his shoulder, I give him a rough shake.

"Leo!"

Don't you even think of—

"S-Still here." He mumbles as he draws in a shallow breath.

"Don't do that!" I snap angrily, pressing my hand back on his wound a little harder, both as an ongoing attempt to stop the blood flow and as payback for that little scare.

Not scared. I'm not. Not really. He'll be fine. Fearless has had a lot of close calls over the years—a lot of 'almost's and 'should have's and 'we thought's—but he's always pulled through. He will this time.

We fall into another silence, this one being much less comforting. I try to focus on the rain, listening to it's constant drumming on my shell, but Leo's breathing drowns it all out. His shallow, rasped breathing that seems to be slowing with each passing minute.

"I know."

"What?" I glance up to see him staring into the rain. Must be mumbling in delirium or some—

"I know… you don't need me."

My defences are up in the blink of an eye, warring with the guilt lancing through my veins. I meant it. I meant what I said. Leo gettin' shot doesn't change that. And I ain't takin' it back just because he's spitting up blood.

I don't need him. I don't need his protection.

If he hadn't been protecting me, he wouldn't—

"You still... don't get it."

Anger peeks into my consciousness as I glance at him, trying to understand where he's going with this. It's a hell of a time to start throwing insults. "Get what?"

"That it's not—" He sucks in a breath and furrows his brow, holding in a cry of pain, I can only assume. "…that I—" This time it's a cough.

There's something in his voice that I can't pinpoint, but it makes my shoulders hunch in defence.

"Save the lecture for after we get home." I say firmly, hoping he drops the subject so I don't have to watch him suffer through another sentence, which he does. It looks like he's trying to meditate, likely to help him handle the pain.

Sensei's perfect student.

My mind keeps twisting back to what I shouted as my gut tells me I should apologize, but I can't. The words get stuck in my mouth like peanut butter and refuse to form. Pride holds them back. Pride and fear.

Later. I can tell him later. After he we're back at the lair and Donnie's patched him up and he's lectured me about runnin' off like I did.

My phone rings, again saving me from drowning in my own noxious thoughts. It takes several tries to pick it up because it keeps slipping through the blood on my hands. "Donnie!"

"Wrong turtle, dude."

Mikey. And he sounds out of breath. "Where the shell are you guys!?" My hand is shaking again because I can't stop the dread that's pumping through my veins.

"On our way. Donnie-boy finally managed to give the Dragons the slip by remote controlling the battleshell away from us." The slight laugh that comes through the phone does wonders to put my nerves at ease. "You shoulda seen it, dude! It was like the greatest game of Race Cars ever!" He lets out another laugh and I let my hand unclench the phone ever so slightly. Leo gives me a look and I know what he wants me to ask.

"You guys alright?"

"All good, bruh. Just…" There's a pause as he catches his breath again.

"Mikey?"

"Just tired." He sounds like he's climbing something—probably getting to the rooftops—as he lets out a tired sigh. "There were a lot of bad dude butts to kick."

A jolt of guilt spikes through me as I turn away from Leo. We shoulda been there to help. "Where's Don?"

"With me. We're moving slow, but we're on our way. Where's—" I hear Don shout something from far away—climbing up to meet Mikey, I assume—and suddenly there's an audible gasp in my ear before Mikey's loud voice cries through. "He's what!? You said he was out, you didn't say he was—" Don's talking again, argues for a minute before I hear Mikey, his voice shaking as he talks. "Don wants to know if the bleeding's stopped?"

I glance at my hand on Leo's stomach and fight the urge to curse. "No."

"Is he still awake? Talking?" Panic rises in his voice with every question. "Dude, put him on! I wanna talk to—"

"Raph?" Don has the phone now. "You there?"

"He's still awake and talking, but his speech is gettin' slow." I say without preamble.

"How's his pulse?"

I hadn't even thought to check. Annoyed at my sudden lack of hands, I place the phone on the ground a moment to press my fingers against his carotid. Leo takes the opportunity to pry for information.

"They… Ok?"

The weakness of his voice freaks me out so much I don't even hear his question. I just try to keep my hand still as I pick the phone back up. "Weak and slow."

I hear Don take a deep breath before talking again. "Ok. How's his—"

"Get here and see for yourself!" I bark unwillingly. Didn't mean to, but I can hear Don's worry creeping through the phone and it's puttin' me on edge.

"We'll be there soon. Just tell him to hang on. No passing out."

"Don," I pause, glancing down at the blood still flowing to the concrete. "Hurry." Again, I hang up the phone and feel fear creep around me like a predator waiting to strike. "They're alright. On their way now."

Leo nods, clearly relieved, but his eyes don't leave mine. He lays there, staring at me, and I feel like he's reading into my soul. It makes me uncomfortable.

Makes me feel ashamed.

Where the shell are Don and Mikey?

"Raph… Don't—" He coughs, and I have to lift his head to let the blood drip down his lips. "Don't… shut them out. They need…"

"What are you—?" My blood feels like it turns to ice the minute our eyes meet. I swear I'm not breathing anymore. And it's not because his pupils are going duller by the minute, or that his skin's startin' to look real pale. It's 'cause he has this looks on his face—this small smile and content gaze—that screams something I'm not ready to hear. Not ready to allow.

Acceptance.

Oh hell no.

"Leo, don't you dare!" I growl, pressing harder on his wound to force the blood into submission. "Keep your eyes open!"

He takes in the shallowest breath I ever saw before whispering with that weak voice that sounds nothing like him. "…Trying…"

And I know. In that moment, I know. See it. Feel it.

But I refuse to allow it.

"Well try harder! Since when do you back away from a fight!?" My heart's beatin' a mile a minute as every curse word I know runs through my head in an attempt to keep the fear from spilling into my eyes. I can't think straight. I don't know what to do! Desperation is taking over as I press harder on the wound, probably making it worse instead of better. But Leo doesn't so much as flinch which means he ain't feeling the pain.

It's all my—

He ain't feeling, his breath is barely noticeable, and his eyes are—his eyes are closing! "I said keep 'em open, dam—" the word dies in my throat as his hand covers mine, so cold that it's shaking. He's smiling. Why the hell is he smiling!? He's looking at me with that stupid smile and kind eyes. Kind and sad.

Almost guilty.

"Tell them…"

No. No, we ain't doin' this now! "Leo—!"

"…M'Sorry." He whispers something haltingly with the last of his breath, but I'm panicking too much to really let it sink in.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

"Don't you—" But his eyes close and his hand falls to the ground and I realize it wasn't his hand that was shaking, it was mine. The rain seems to freeze in it's downpour as suddenly everything goes completely silent. Still.

Empty.

What just happened?

"Leo?"

My mind is racing, thinking about the most random crap: what we had for breakfast this morning, how annoying Leo was during training, what TV show Mikey'd been watching before we left.

"Leo!?"

Why I was angry at Leo. Why I'm still angry at him. The asshole had no right jumpin' into danger for me. He had no right!

"Leonardo!"

The rain is suddenly deafening.

My eyes are wide, staring down at my brother's slack face, hands still pressed against his stomach.

His chest ain't moving. I can't hear his breath anymore. He looks so peaceful.

I hate him.

"LEO!"

I scream. As loud as I can. As long as I can. No words, no sense. Just raw, unfiltered, pain. Until my lungs burn and my throat is sore and my stomach threatens to heave.

This can't be real. He can't…

And suddenly I can't feel anything any more.

My body goes numb, my brain shuts down, and all I can do is sit there, staring at my big brother, waiting for my heart to rip out of my chest.

"I know."

I hate him.

"I know… you don't need me."

Hate his constant perfection. His impossibly high standards. His correcting and worrying.

Protecting.

"You still… don't get it."

Hate everything about him.

"That it's not… That I—"

My hands are still shaking as I lower my forehead to my brother's, nearly choking as I feel the chill of his skin against mine. "Leo…" His name is like acid on my tongue and I have to grit my teeth against the sheer pain it carries.

"Dammit…"

I can't believe he's…

He left…

"Dammit!"

I hate him.

He's…

"DAMMIT!"

The rain's pouring down my face. I feel it. Running down my cheeks, dripping from my chin onto Leo's pale skin.

Has to be the rain.

This is all my…

This is…

Leo's actually…

…Fault.

I hate myself.

…Yup. I told you, I was in a mood.

End of Line.

-TRAaP

(Side note, this was my first time writing entirely in first person. Huzzah for firsts).