TW: child abuse. Also swearing.
Spoilers for the S4 finale but only in this authors note because I like to preface my fics with a ramble, but you can totally skip it. :P
A/N: If you're a big Splinter fan, you may not like my depiction of him very much.
I wrote this a long time ago, but it was one that I never shared with anybody until now, and it seems even more relevant because of whats happening in S4. I started to form this head canon in 2k3 - though it's one of the better portrayals of Master Splinter (from what I remember, anyway) I was still really uncomfortable whenever there was a scene where he would hit his sons. I was more uncomfortable because I knew I was supposed to laugh at these scenes.
With 2k12, it seems more frequent. And with the S1 finally, I really felt like Master Splinter was actually saying "make sure it's you" and it made me think that Leonardo sacrificing himself at every opportunity was a learned behaviour - and not one that he taught himself.
So this fic is set in the 2012 universe, but ignores his death in S4 and instead this takes place sometime in the future - where the turtles are older, the Shredder is gone and so they have "won", and Master Splinter is very old.
I wrote this song listening to Linkin Park's 'Numb' which has always struck me as the most appropriate Leonardo song ever.
Master Splinter's eyes snap open suddenly - his eyes wide, alert.
He mumbles in Japanese which Leonardo understands as 'brother'. He knows, then, that his father has been dreaming once again of the Shredder.
"Father," Leonardo says, softly, "You are safe. The Shredder is not a threat any longer, father."
Master Splinter looks at him with fear, struggling to sit up and scramble away from his eldest son, "You are not my son!"
"You have a fever, what your seeing isn't real," Leonardo tries to reason, holding up his hands in surrender, slowly edging closer, "Please, sensei, get back into bed-"
"You monster!" His father is yelling, struggling to get to his feet. He's delirious, Leonardo realises, He doesn't remember me. Or himself.
Leonardo takes a few steps back, arms still raised in surrender, "Let me help you, please."
"Where is this place?" His father ignores him, turning away and swaying a little on his feet, muttering to himself.
He makes his way to his father, slowly, "Father, please, you are not well-"
His father spins before Leonardo can touch him and punches him in the face. The old rat suddenly seeming much younger with the speed and strength in his movements - slamming his eldest son to the ground and yelling as he attacks.
The doors are open within moments and Master Splinter is pulled off him. Donatello is yelling for everybody to leave as April tugs their father back to his bed, with her arm around him. She speaks in a low voice, calming, smoothing - the rat still uneasy but calmer upon seeing a human face. His brothers pull him to his feet and Leonardo, stunned, allows himself to be lead out to the living room.
It is the last time his father hits him - but it is certainly not the first.
It wasn't the first time they'd snuck out. But it was the first time they'd got caught.
They'd been playing at one of the sewer junctions and one of the pipes Michelangelo had been climbing on had snapped - sending the youngest tumbling to the ground. Luckily, he hadn't been too high up but he'd smacked his head on the ground as he'd fallen and now he was bleeding all over.
Leonardo had scooped the youngest up in his arms once Donatello had wrapped his bandana around his head tightly to try and stop the bleeding and now they were running back.
"It hurts," Michelangelo sniffs, and Leonardo holds him a little tighter.
"I know, Mikey," Leonardo tells him, panting, as he runs as fast as he can, "It's okay, it looks worse than it is. I know it's scary but I need you to be brave for me, okay?"
"Sensei," Raphael is yelling as soon as they approach the lair, "Sensei! Mikey's hurt!"
Their father is with them within moments, taking one look at the panicked expressions of his elder sons, stained with blood, and the tearful face of his youngest child.
"My sons," Master Splinter exclaims, "Where have you been? Leonardo - weren't you watching him?"
"We were just playing," Donatello sniffs.
"We're sorry," Raphael says, "It's not Leo's fault, dad. We were climbing and the pipe burst and Mikey fell-"
"Lay him on the sofa," Master Splinter commands and Leonardo obliges, "Raphael, get the first aid kit. Donatello, I'm going to need your help."
"What can I do?" Leonardo asks, desperately.
"You've done enough," Master Splinter snaps, "You're supposed to be responsible."
"It's not Leo's fault," Mikey says, his voice thick, "I persuaded him to go out, he wanted to stay at home."
"Shh, my son," Master Splinter says, patting the youngests shoulder, "Leonardo is the eldest and so he should know better. Now let me fix you up."
Later, Leonardo kneels before his father with his head ducked.
"Father, I'm so sorry. You're right - I should have stopped them-"
Master Splinter moves so quickly that Leonardo doesn't have time to respond before his master raises his hand to his cheek. There's an audible smack - Leonardo's eyes are wide. He blinks in shock, his hand flying up to touch his cheek. It feels hot. Tears well up in his eyes against his will and he looks back at his father in betrayal and disbelief.
"I am disappointed in you, Leonardo," Master Splinter tells him, "Go."
Leonardo doesn't need to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet and flees from his fathers room as quickly as he can - he keeps his head down, running to the safety of his room before his brothers can ask questions. He crawls onto his bed and buries his head under his pillow before he lets out a shaky sob. He feels a lot of things - shame, guilt, anger and fear - but it's nothing compared to the overwhelming sense of embarrassment. He's supposed to be strong. He's supposed to be brave. Yet here he is; cowering. Crying like a little baby.
Master Splinter passes hours later, in the middle of the night and Leonardo can't help but wonder if it was his fault; if he pushed him over the edge. He knows, logically, that this is ridiculous. It's five in the morning and the lair is loud. Raphael is taking it out on his punching bag, Michelangelo trying to distract himself from his feelings by watching the most stupid comedy he could find, and Donatello tinkering in his lab. Master Splinter is still in his room, covered in a sheet.
Leonardo sits in the kitchen, silenced. His eye bruised. It's the last bruise Master Splinter will ever give him. The last mark he will ever make on his eldest sons body. Leonardo realizes this with a start and shudders.
He stands, abruptly and leaves the lair. He says nothing to his brothers on his way out and they don't say anything to try to stop him.
Leonardo wonders if the reason they don't stop is that they blame him, too.
It happens every time one of his brothers are injured - no matter what the cause.
Whether they are roughhousing with each other or trip over their own feet or if they struck in battle. It is Leonardo's fault as the eldest - every wound on his brothers bodies are his fault and Leonardo knows this - his father has been telling him this for years now. No longer a child, but still he knees in front of his father, head bowed. He remains silent until spoken to.
"What happened?" The old rat asks, sharply. "How did you allow this to happen?"
Leonardo swallows, "It was the foot, sensei. They ambushed us - Tigerclaw was there too.. Raphael - he protected me. He jumped in the way-"
"So you let your brother get hurt in your place," Master Splinter concludes.
"No!" Leonardo protests, before he can stop himself, "I didn't - it was too fast, I tried, sensei, but I couldn't-"
He isn't surprised when he is smacked to the ground. Leonardo bites his lip to keep from crying out. His eyes water, frustratingly, and Leonardo furiously tries to stop them from leaking. He feels a hot flash of anger; part of him dying to get back onto his feet and strike back, to lash out at his father. But he does not - and the feelings of shame and humiliation start to creep up - Leonardo is helpless. Resistance is futile.
"Sensei, please-" He tries anyway, clambering back up onto his knees, even though he knows it's useless.
"Do not speak to me," His father spits, and barrels into him, knocking him over, "Get out." Leonardo scrambles on his knees to put himself out of range - if his father hits him again, he'll at least have a moment to prepare himself for the pain, "Father, I'm sorry-"
His father raises his hand before turning his back again, "You are a disgrace to this family, Leonardo. Get out of my sight."
He flees into his room with his heart pounding the same way it did when he was a boy, running back to the safety of his bed after he'd switched off the bathroom light before a monster could catch him. Leonardo knew that monsters existed; he'd fought many of them. They weren't really that scary - because Leonardo could hit them back if they tried to hurt them or run away from them. But he could not hit back or run from the monster who lived in his home.
There is no one to hit him any more when he fails. No one tells him he has brought dishonor on his family, that he is a disappointment as a son. It's been months since Master Splinter passed.
Life starts to fall into some sense of normality again at some point. The brothers still mourn, but they live for each other - Raphael gradually gets less angry, Donatello still tinkers but doesn't barricade himself in his work anymore, and Michelangelo's laughter becomes less forced. They go out on patrols as a habit more than anything - the streets have been much quieter since the fall of the Shredder, but that's not to say the are devoid of all crime. They intervene only when it is necessary - when there are no cops in sight.
Leonardo knows all to well how one wrong move can make even the easiest mission deadly. They stop a bank robbery and one of the gunmen manage to clip Donatello's shoulder - he cries out in pain when it happens, and Raphael takes him out in an instant before Leonardo can even turn around.
It's over quickly - the gunmen on the ground, the police sirens on their way. Donatello is putting on a brave face but blood tickles steadily down his shoulder. Leonardo accesses the wound on the second youngest.
"I'm good," Donatello grunts, seeing Leonardo's face, "It's just a scratch."
"Go," Leonardo orders his brothers, once he sees for himself that his brothers wound is not critical. His eyes meet Raphael's, "Get him home and fix him up. I'm going to do one last swoop of the city."
Michelangelo nods, moving to help Donatello up the fire escape of the building so they can disappear over the rooftops. Raphael looks as though he's about to say something but thinks better of it and follows.
When he turns, eventually deciding to say something, the eldest brother is nowhere to be seen.
He sinks into his bed, burying himself under his duvet and shutting his eyes tight - it's only here that he allows a few tears to leak out. His senses are overwhelmed - the shock of being hit gets him every time and sometimes it's like he's in a dream. Sometimes, he doubts it ever happened. There's a light knock on his door and Leonardo stiffens. He shuts his eyes tight again, trying to ignore his pounding headache and the guilt tearing at his heart. If he pretends he hadn't heard, it'll all go away. Whoever it is will leave him alone. His door opens, though and Leonardo knows he's shaking. No one ever enters his room unless he says - no one apart from his father.
"Don't," he says, hoarsely. "Father-"
"It's me, Leo," Donatello's voice is warm and comforting, "I've brought you some paracetamol and a glass of water, okay? I'll leave them here."
Leonardo stiffens, "I'm not hurt."
"You were doing your 'I have a headache' face," Donatello just radiates sympathy. "Are you okay?"
Leonardo nods, and his brother places his hand purposely on his shoulder and squeezes it before he gets up to leave.
"It wasn't your fault tonight, bro. There was nothing you could have done to stop it so don't blame yourself, okay?"
When his brother leaves, Leonardo wants to call him back and tell him the truth. But he doesn't.
He comes home bloody and bruised to find, much to his surprise that all of the lights in the lair are on. It's late - the lair would normally be silent. He limps, as quietly as possible, toward the bathroom to clean himself up before his brothers spot him. He doesn't know what he looks like, but from how he's feeling, it's probably not good.
"When did you and Raph switch places?" A voice to his right says - it's Michelangelo, on the tire swing, of course. Leonardo winces at his younger brothers voice and straightens himself quickly.
"I didn't know you were there-"
"Duh, I'm a ninja," Michelangelo crosses his arms, "You weren't to know until I wanted you to know."
"Right," Leonardo says, his eyes casting over the rest of the lair. "Anyone else around?"
As if on cue, Raphael appears from the lab to frown at the eldest, "What the shell happened to you?"
Leonardo shrugs, "How's Donnie?"
"Fast asleep in his room," Raphael responds, "I was just cleaning up the aftermath, though apparently I shouldn't have bothered. C'mon."
"I'm fine," Leonardo responds, his eyes casting over to the youngest who's watching him, his expression unreadable. "Really."
"If you can put weight on your right leg you're free to go," Raphael rolls his eyes. Leonardo presses his lips together into a thin line, adjusting his weight.
"That's stupid, Raph."
"You're only saying that 'cause you know you can't do it," Raphael smirks at him suddenly, "If you ask nicely, I'll carry ya, princess."
Leonardo shoots him a glare, and starts walking towards him instead. He puts his weight on his injured leg and breathes in sharply at the stab of pain but walks on it anyway. He makes it about a third of the way to his brother before his leg buckles under the pressure and he goes tumbling down.
"Didn't think so," Raphael observes from above him, leaning down to grab Leonardo's arm and pull it over his shoulder.
"Come on, fearless. Lean on me." Leonardo scowls at the old nickname, but allows himself to be lead into the lab, Michelangelo scrambles off the tire swing in time to hold the door open for his brothers.
"Go to bed, Mike," Raphael tells the youngest, "I got 'im."
Michelangelo hesitates at the doorway for a moment.
"I'm good, Mikey," Leonardo forces himself to smile at the youngest, "Really. Go to bed, this'll only take a moment."
Michelangelo leaves, reluctantly, and Raphael turns back to the eldest. Leonardo doesn't protest as his brother proceeds to clean up the dried blood from his body.
"I know why you do this," Raphael tells him, as he works, giving him a small grin. "I can't even tell ya off - pot, kettle, right? We do the same thing. At least - I used 'ta."
Leonardo watches him, silently, wondering when their roles switched.
"Splinter might've thought you deserved punishment," Raphael continues, "and he might've blamed you whenever things went south. But I don't - never did. Neither did Mikey and Donnie. No one blames you, bro."
Something catches in Leonardo's throat but he keeps his mouth firmly shut. The turtle in red doesn't seem to expect a response, anyway, and continues to clean him up in silence. Leonardo thanks him when he finishes but Raphael just waves a hand at him.
"Splinter's dead, Leo," Raphael reminds him, before he leaves, "Don't let him keep on punishing ya."
A couple of nights later, Leonardo wakes himself up with a yell, sometime after four in the morning.
His nightmare flashes through his head again - the rat beating him, yelling at him. He isn't really surprised when his bedroom door opens slightly and a head pokes round the door.
"Leo?" Michelangelo whispers, "Can I come in?" Leonardo nods, not quite trusting his voice, and pushes down the covers beside him and shuffles over. The youngest Hamato brother makes his way over to his brother's bed and crawls into the bed beside him. Leonardo lets his youngest brother curl up in his side.
"It's okay, Leo," Michelangelo tells him, softly, "I have nightmares, too, sometimes."
There's a cough at the door and both brothers jump - straining their heads to see who it is.
"I, uh, heard Mikey get up," Raphael says, looking kind of sheepish. "You both good?"
"Uh huh," Leonardo responds, his voice hoarse, "Come on, then."
"It's like a turtle pile," Michelangelo says, dreamily, and Leonardo smiles in spite of himself. The second oldest clambers over both of their legs and sits at the bottom of the bed, leaning against the wall and putting his legs over the other two. "You know, like a puppy pile. Except with turtles."
Leonardo pats his head, affectionately, and smiles despite himself.
"I see I wasn't invited to this party," Donatello arrives a moment later and Leonardo almost laughs at how unsubtle his siblings are.
"Donnie!" Michelangelo exclaims in Leonardos ear and Leonardo moves his head, letting out a groan.
"Hey, keep it down," Leonardo says, pretending to be cross. "I'm trying to sleep over here."
"Ow, Donnie, that's my foot!" Raphael grumbles, as Leonardo feels the mattress sinking again as the purple banded turtle tries to find a spot on the mattress to sit.
"Budge up, then," Donatello says, and there's more shuffling.
They all settle, after some maneuvering around, and fall into silence. Leonardo lifts his head up slightly to see his brothers, all of them pretending like they're sleeping and he snorts. Nobody says anything, and Leonardo shuts his eyes again. Nope - he's certain he won't ever tell them.
He remembers the last time Master Splinter hit him and shudders involuntarily, and feels his brothers shuffle closer on instinct. He stills – his breath hitching. He thinks over their childhoods – and as often as he remembers their father hitting him, he remembers Donatello leaving painkillers on his bedside table, Michelangelo getting up to hand Leonardo things from the other side of the room so he didn't need to move, and Raphael's arguing with their father about things he never did offer an explanation for.
It occurs to him, that the secret he's been keeping all these years was never really a secret at all.
"He used to hit me whenever one of you guys got hurt," He hears himself say, "It didn't seem like a big deal before but now that he's not here to - to hit me - I keep having these dreams about him coming back to punish me. Nightmares."
There's another silence and Leonardo starts to regret it, but then Donatello speaks up.
"I know," Donatello says, sadly, "Your excuses were always pretty shit when I asked why you had bruises that you hadn't the night before."
"You were always the worst liar," Raphael agrees, and then, "I always knew the blaming yourself thing was his fault; I heard the way he talked to you, sometimes. The self sacrificing thing was his fault, too."
"I used to stage arguments or cause some kind of commotion if you were in there too long," Michelangelo says, quietly. "To get you and Sensei to come out."
Leonardo lets out a breath, "I was afr- I didn't want to ruin the image you guys had of him."
"It's not like it's unimaginable," Raphael says, "I mean, he hit us all sometimes when we disobeyed him. You always got the worst of it, though."
"I know he loved us," Donatello says, thoughtfully, "and he did a lot of things right - but he made some pretty big mistakes, too. Hitting us was one of them and treating you the way he did, Leo - that can never be justified."
Michelangelo nods along with his older brothers, burrying a little closer to his eldest brother. "We're with you on this one, bro. Don't worry."
Leonardo lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Thanks, guys."
They fall into a comfortable silence - the brothers huddling together a little bit closer, like they did on cold winters as children.
Two weeks later, on another patrol, Michelangelo is the one who gets the worst of it.
As they regroup and Leonardo scans over each of his brothers quickly, assessing their wounds, the youngest takes his arm before he can say anything.
"Let's go home," Michelangelo tells him, firmly, making eye contact with him. Leonardo hears him loud and clear, Don't go off alone again. Don't punish yourself again.
Leonardo hesitates for a moment as his younger brothers watch him closely - their fight for the night might be over, but his brothers still are not relaxed; they are ready to fight him on this, he realises.
"Yeah," Leonardo says, eventually, "I think that's a good idea, Mikey."
The youngest beams at him, and Leonardo finds himself grinning back.
"Can we get pizza?" The youngest asks, almost as soon as they've set off in the direction of home, "I mean, I am injured after all - I totally deserve pizza-"