Ok, so there's some back story to this before I get started. First off, in the original Image comics, Leonardo loses his hand. As I have never (and will never) read the comics, I'm not sure how this happened, other than it was in combat. Secondly, if anyone has seen the new 2012 series that is coming out, Michelangelo and Donatello's weapons have changed. I'm not sure of the nature of this, and frankly I don't really care because after seeing the CGI styling I'm not too keen on watching it anyway. I prefer my old 1987 Turtles with the live action movies in the early 90s. The 2007 CGI film was ok, but I don't feel as though I'm going to go much further than that.

That being said, the details on Leo's hand, and the thought of my favorite turtle (Michelangelo) actually finally wielding a deadly weapon was rather exciting (not that nun chucks aren't deadly, I've trained in martial arts so I do know a few things about how the weapons work). So I wanted to showcase how neat I felt it would be to see how this would pan out in a realistic scenario (as realistic as giant mutant ninjitsu practicing turtles could be I guess) So, without further ado…the story! Hope you all like it.

Leonardo had long since surpassed the point of pain. Traditional pain at the very least. That was something he had learned to meditate through and gain control over. Cuts, stab wounds, even a broken bone or two was something that with a few moments of concentration his skilled warrior's body could temporarily overcome. This, however, was much different. He tried not to think about it, but every time he went to reach for one of his swords in self defense he was met with the ghostly sensation of moving nerves twitching to no avail. With horror he once again concluded that he really was truly without his left hand. Severed, it lay merely a few feet away, dead on the ground, motionless, and horrifyingly no longer a part of himself. Blood drizzled from the wound as Leo tried to keep it level with his chest. He knew that if he at least slowed the bleeding, and if he could somehow escape, he could make it back to the lair before shock finally set in.

Unfortunately it didn't seem like that was going to be happening.

He cursed himself for letting the others go on ahead without him. He cursed himself for being in this precarious and dangerous position with no help and potentially no positive outcome. He cursed himself and this pain that he couldn't work through, his blurring vision, his weakening muscles, and the stretch of fear that was now cast before him as he slowly succumbed to the heightening possibility that this would be his end.

There was one lone warrior that accompanied the turtle tonight: his sworn enemy that had plagued his existence, and his brother's, for years; The bad dream that continued to become reality time and time again; The monster that constantly rose up in the darkest of times to make things worse, and that somehow, Leonardo and his brothers had always overcome in the past through the help of their master, Splinter.

But they were not here. Not his brothers, nor his beloved Sensei. Leonardo was alone, and The Shredder stood in his shadow, eyeing him, toying with him, giving him the false perception of an escape, and only waiting all too eagerly to take it away.

"What is the matter?" He hissed, as if reading the young warrior's mind. "Why do you not attempt to flee? Could it be that you have finally accepted your fate, young turtle?"

Leo didn't respond. He wasn't going to give The Shredder the satisfaction of hearing the fear in his voice or see the fleeting resolve in his eyes. Instead he kept his left arm cradled against his chest, the severed joint still pointed upright in an attempt to slow the bleeding. His other hand loosely grasped his remaining katana, albeit shakily, preparing for another attack from the monstrosity that had joined him in this newfound hell.

Suddenly, the Shredder began to laugh, and as if the gods themselves had pitted everything they had against Leo, ice cold rain began to pour from the sky. It hit Leo like a wave of fear and hate, and hit his severed wound like icy little bites that only intensified the pain he felt. For a short moment death didn't feel like such a bad alternative to this.

He couldn't believe the position he was now in.

This was supposed to have been a simple training exercise. They were all supposed to split up and meet back here within an hour: A test to see how well they operated and navigated independently of one another.

Leo smiled a bit at the possibility of Splinter considering this a failure.

"You can kill me if you want," Leo spat. "But my brothers will find you and kill you in turn."

Again, the Shredder laughed.

"Something they have not been able to do for years!"

Now it was Leo's turn to laugh.

"And you haven't been able to get rid of us either, Shredder. So what does that say about you?"

He felt the kick to his abdomen before he ever saw it: a testament to his blood loss.

The force of the blow sent him spiraling backwards; his second katana sprawled from his hands and flew out of sight. That was when Leo was sure it was the end. The rain was coming down in horrid torrents, cascading down his face at a blinding pace, curling around his shoulders and knees and even pooling on his plastron. He could hear someone calling his name and believed that it was the blackness curling at the edges of his vision. This was the end. He looked up, ready to go…

…and found that it wasn't Death calling his name, but his brother, Michelangelo.

The youngest of the four turtles was kneeling high above him, blue eyes wide in their orange bandana, looking frightened for his elder brother.

"Mikey!" Leo yelled as the Shredder lurched toward him. "Mikey, go get Raph!"

Even as he yelled it he knew there was no time, and the look of fear and anguish on Michelangelo's face showed that he knew it too. There was only one option if he wanted to save his elder brother, and Leo could see in the change of his countenance that Mikey knew it too.

A blur of green and orange landed gracefully in front of where Leo kneeled, just between him and The Shredder. Michelangelo instantly popped into a defensive stance, his teeth grit and his eyes betraying all fear that flooded into him at that moment. But he wasn't going to let that stop him from at least trying to protect his older brother.

"Mike!" Leo coughed, "Mikey, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, dude?"

There was no denying how shaky Michelangelo sounded in his current situation. The Shredder had stopped, perplexed and somewhat amused by this sudden turn of events.

"Mikey you need to get Raph. You can't defeat him alone."

"Not planning on defeating him bro," Mikey turned his gaze over his shoulder and Leo got a full glance at his little brother's face. Michelangelo winked and turned his nun chucks in on themselves so that they fit perfectly in his three-fingered hands. "Just stalling him long enough for you to get away."

Leo was about to argue again, but was cut short when the Shredder began laughing once more.

"How adorable," he hissed, lurching closer and closer to the two brothers. "So the youngest will sacrifice himself to save his big brother?"

Leo gasped against another wave of pain. Somewhere in there was an inaudible "no", but between the rain and his own labored breathing no one was likely to have heard it. He could only stare on, realizing that broken ribs had now been added to his list of injuries.

"I will do you a favor, little turtle, and make your death quick."

Michelangelo's stance stiffened and the expression on his face hardened significantly. For all his childishness, Mikey has always been in truth highly realistic when it came to his own inner thoughts. He knew that one day he would die, and his brothers too. They would not be happy deaths in warm beds surrounded by loved ones at a ripened age where they would be ready to go. They would be violent deaths, and probably at young ages, with no hope of retribution or recognition. As quickly and as strangely as they had all come into this world, they would also probably leave it. Michelangelo, though saddened by this, had accepted it, and he had become to determined that if he was going to die it would be defending those he loved.

Now seemed as good a time as any.

Although Leo could not see his little brother's expression, he sensed the change of temperament, and began to feel a new fear wash over him. All Michelangelo did was stand between them both, beckoning The Shredder on with newfound confidence.

"Are you ready to die little turtle?"

Mikey's stance changed ever so slightly. Leo watched, his heart in his throat as his blood poured out into the streets, and realized with an ever intensifying sense of horror that Michelangelo didn't even have his nun-chucks with him anymore! Where had they gone? What was he going to fight The Shredder with? And as if his little brother had somehow managed to read his mind, Mike reached into the back of his shell and pulled out a long chain, wrapping it around his wrists until he brought out two long sickles attached to either end of it.

Leo couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Mikey?"

Many months previously…

He'd been walking back and forth for hours outside of Splinter's bedroom. Thankfully no one had noticed his repetitive hesitancy. Mikey wasn't sure how to present his request to his sensei, and the last thing he needed was his brothers interjecting ever few moments and breaking his already scattered train of thought.

He wanted to be trained with a new weapon.

As much as Michelangelo loved his nun-chucks that had become both his specialty and his close friends, he felt that it was time to move up to something better suited for the heat of battle. Both of his elder brothers had weapons that were far more dangerous than his own, and though Michelangelo never admired the burden that came with those weapons, he felt that it was his time to accept some responsibility.

"Come in my son," came a gentle voice from the warm shadows behind Michelangelo, causing him to jump ever so slightly.

When had Splinter opened the door?

Sometimes I'm a sorry excuse for a ninja. He thought to himself, and instantly began to second (or triple…possibly even quadruple) guess himself.

"Sensei!" Michelangelo bowed haphazardly, bring a raised eyebrow and curious expression from his teacher and father. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but-"

The rat adjusted his stance ever so slightly, suddenly appearing much gentler than he had a second ago. He smiled.

"My son, you are never a disturbance. Please, come in. Something is troubling you, I can tell." Mikey smiled to himself for all the times he could recall being just that: a disturbance, but for the first time that he could remember kept his joke to himself. Mikey closed the door behind them and then kneeled before Splinter, who sat across from him on his small table. "What is it I can do for you, Michelangelo?"

And here was the part Michelangelo wished that he had practiced more.

He instantly felt a great deal of shame and feared being taken as ungrateful by his master. Splinter had thought laboriously on what weapons he first wanted to train all of his sons in, and with great delight had found that Michelangelo had been a natural at the nun-chucks. Mikey had promised to always respect the weapon that his father had lovingly chosen for him and now as this memory crept back into his mind he began to instantly regret coming to Splinter with this request.

"Uh…"

There was no change in Splinter's countenance. He waited patiently until his youngest son had successfully gathered all of his thoughts. He even softened his expression further, as he could most certainly tell that whatever Michelangelo had to say, it was giving him some trouble as he seemed uncharacteristically nervous.

"Go on."

Mikey was defeated. As many times as he had gone over his request, there was no way to make it not sound, in any way shape or form, negative.

"Sensei…I was hoping that I could request to be trained with another weapon."

Mikey guessed that if Splinter could have gone over every possibility of Michelangelo's being here, he still would not have predicted this, and it certainly showed in his expression.

"Why is that, my son?"

"Uh…" Mike dropped his gaze. "I…think I'm ready?"

If there had been any crickets in the lair that night, both parties involved would have heard them chirping after that statement.

"Is that so?"

Mikey nodded, the saliva suddenly gone from his throat. He didn't know what else to say! He was certain that Splinter was angry with him; thought him arrogant and pompous. He would be grounded for a week, and what would be worse is that his brothers would know and question him for his request! All of his decisions and reasoning came crashing down on his head, and he had never felt more defeated and ashamed. And then, Splinter spoke again: "perhaps you are right then."

Blue eyes shot up toward the rat with lightening speed.

"What?"

To his own surprise, Splinter was smiling at him.

"Perhaps you are right than, Michelangelo. If you feel that you are ready, then I will begin to instruct you with a new weapon."

"Th-thank you, Sensei!" Mikey bowed, his heart pounding in his chest. He left Splinter's room looking relieved and even a bit happy, and as he passed his brothers none of them could guess the reason for the larger-than-usual grin on his face.

A few days later…

"This?"

It was more than Mikey had expected, and certainly more than he could have asked for.

"Yes. I think it will suit your skills. You're already used to the momentum of a nun-chuck, and this weapon has some basic similarities with them. You'll require extra training, but I think in time you will do the double-headed kusarigama proud."

"I'll train hard, Sensei!"

Splinter smiled proudly. "I'm sure you will Michelangelo. I simply have one request of you before we start."

"Anything, Sensei!"

"Why do you really want to be trained with a new weapon, Michelangelo?"

Frozen, Michelangelo felt a wave of sheer panic rise over him for one split second. Had Splinter seen through him? Did he have the convictions that Mike had feared he originally would have? Did he think Mike selfish and greedy? In a flurry, the young turtle struggled to put together some type of excuse, apology, anything at all to make his reasoning more understandable for his master…but as he saw that Splinter's face was neither hardened nor sad, Mike realized that his Sensei, his father, didn't care about those things. He simply sensed that something was amiss with his youngest son, and was making the appropriate attempt to reach out to him to quell it. Mike sighed. He would be honest with his father.

"It's…kind of a long story, Sensei."

"I have all the time in the world for my sons," stated the rat as he began to hobble over toward one of the many benches in their training room. "Come." He patted the seat next to him. "Sit. Tell me, what is troubling you?"

Mike sighed. He really hadn't wanted to talk about his reason for wanting a new weapon, but Splinter was persistent. If he was going to be teaching his son a new weapon, he wanted to know where his head was at. If Mike wasn't bouncing off of the walls and making jokes so corny that they were lined with kernels, something was wrong. Splinter was always concerning himself with his son's well being. He knew best that if the mind was not sound, then neither was the body, and then they could not fight with clear heads and come home safe.

No. There was no getting out of this.

Slowly Michelangelo made his way over to where Splinter sat and joined him.

"It's just that…I've been having nightmares lately…"

"Yes, Raphael has told me that you aren't sleeping well."

Mikey flinched. Now Raph was noticing?

"Great…" he muttered to himself. For a moment he had forgotten that his Sensei was a rat, and his ears would have picked that up. Mikey cursed himself, internally this time.

"Don't worry Michelangelo. Though your brother has expressed concerns, I doubt that he knows the full nature of your issue. Please. Continue your story."

Sighing, Michelangelo continued as beckoned. "In my dreams, I'm either with Raph or with Leo. Something…bad…always happens and I have no way to defend them. I'm afraid of something like that happening, and I want….I want to be more useful should something like that ever happen."

Splinter nodded.

"That is a very selfless thing, Michelangelo. I think I can accept that as a reason to want a new weapon."

Mikey looked up, a smile coming back to his face. "Yeah?"

"Indeed. And perhaps it will cease your nightmares as well."

"Thank you, Sensei."

The Present…

"Mikey?"

He heard his eldest brother's voice quaver behind him. As much as Michelangelo wanted to help him up and run away back to the safety of the lair, he knew that with Shredder following in their footsteps that safety was never going to happen. Not until they won this battle.

"Dude," Mikey whispered over his shoulder. "I got this."

Leo's expression, or what Mike could see of it from the corner of his eye, proved that he was unconvinced.

"Are you ready to die, little turtle?"

Mikey snorted, his attention now turned directly towards his enemy.

"Not tonight. Asshole."

The Shredder pounced, and with a crack of lightening his swords were out; his bladed bracers arcing wildly toward Michelangelo as the young turtle flipped and curved and danced out of their path, each time narrowly escaping a deadly blow. Likewise, Michelangelo returned every attack with a blow from each sickle, sending sparks shooting up into the night as metal hit metal upon each and every strike. The chain danced wildly in the air, looping against one sword as Mikey danced under one muscled arm, hitting against another but coming up with only more armor. More sparks flew up in the air. The noise was deafening, and with it rolled the explosive thunder, snaps of lightening and the roaring winds of the storm that crashed over their heads.

Mike thrashed forward and backward, from side to side, his accuracy and deadliness with the kusarigama bested only by his agility. The Shredder screamed and cursed as the younger turtle mocked him between blows, blocked and deflected each punch and slide and stab only to be greeted with a sickle, a chain whip, or a fist in return. For all the fear that had been in Mikey only moments ago, now he felt a swelling degree of confidence.

It showed in his now returned characteristic smile.

The Shredder lurched forward just as Mikey twisted out of his reach, causing the evil ninja to temporarily get his bladed knuckles stuck into the adjacent stucco. The turtle took this time to run toward Leo, putting himself once more between his brother and his enemy.

"Leo, can you move?" he shouted over the din.

But there was no time for an answer.

Though one of Shredder's hands was compromised, the other was free enough to utilize projectile weapons, each one of them aimed directly at Michelangelo. The younger turtle, however, concerned with his elder brother's safety, paid this little heed until it was too late.

"MIKE!"

Three of the six darts had made purchase. One in Mikey's shoulder, another in his upper right bicep and another in his thigh, the latter of which landed deep enough to have struck bone. The pain doubled him over, leaving him biting his tongue to quell the scream of pain that would have otherwise been unleashed from his lungs.

Leo held his breath and struggled to get to his feet. "Mike! MIKE LOOK OUT!"

Shredder, now free from the stone wall, rushed to Michelangelo with frightening agility that was most certain backed by his rage and frustration. He landed one blow on Mike's shell, flattening the turtle to the ground, but the next attempt at a direct hit was met with a lash of chain and blade that lodged itself into the visor of Shredder's helmet. This was enough of a deterrent for Mikey to roll away and limp to a veritable point of safety while regaining himself.

"Mikey!" Leo shouted, fighting back the shock that was threatening to take him over. "Mikey! Mikey run! Go get Raph and Donnie!"

"I'm not leaving you here, dude."

Leo cursed under his breath.

This was it. This was the end for both of them then. He watched and waited as the battle continued while he stood worthless nearby, praying that a miracle would happen as he continued to watch in horror as his baby brother fought for both of their lives and felt sick to his stomach with fear. One wrong move and it would be all over.

He felt useless on his knees, clutching his severed wrist and shivering against the icy rain that pelted his skin. Terror and pain washed through him anew, and Leo prayed that somehow Raph and Don would find them before it was too late. Leo looked around for his swords and found nothing, then back to Mike, his terror running paramount. The sparks kept flying. Shredder's blows had apparently found purchase a few times, not including the darts, because Mikey now had several deep gashes along his arms and one above his left eye. The blood looked as though it was hindering his eyesight, but for the most part Michelangelo did not disappoint. His defense was almost flawless despite his injuries, and of course, Mikey had always been the fastest of the turtles when it came to his footwork. Leo, despite his intense concern for his brother, was proud.

"LEO!"

The eldest of the turtles looked up. His prayers had been answered.

"RAPH! DONNIE!" he screamed past the torrential storm overheard as they landed on the ground some meters away. Both of them crossed the short distance to him and kneeled, checking his injuries and shielding him from the elements.

"Oh God, Leo…" Donnie's eyes were wide upon viewing the truth about Leo's injury. "I…oh my God…"

"Can ya reattach it Donnie?"

"I…" Donnie's eyes were wide, but doubt began to creep into them as he assessed his elder brother's wound. "I don't know. The cut's pretty clean but…"

Leo suddenly reached out and gripped Donnie's shoulder with what little strength he had left. "Mike…" He pointed to the battle that was still raging beyond the three of them. "Help Mikey and worry about me later."

The two brothers turned, having barely noticed the battle behind them upon seeing Leo in his current state. Their jaws dropped upon the site.

"Mikey?" Donnie choked past the rain that filled his mouth.

Raph leapt to his feet, sais out and ready.

"Get him home Donnie," he growled. "Mikey and I will take care of this."

"Right."

Don began to lift Leo slowly to his feet, but the eldest of the two would have nothing of it.

"We can't leave them," he protested. "Mikey…"

Donnie's voice softened, though his gaze kept straining over toward the battle. With Raphael now joined in the odds were a little more even, but that didn't quell his concern for either of them. And Mikey was looking very bad.

"They'll be fine," Donnie promised through more faith than certainty. "Raph and Mikey-"

"Not leaving them…" he argued again, but even as he strained against Donnie to free himself Leo felt the last of his strength leave him. His brother caught him just before he took a violent tumble to the ground.

Later that night…

Leo awoke feeling sore. That was the best word for it he determined after a few moments of trying to stretch his muscles.

No. Not sore.

"Crap."

There was a rustling to Leo's right. He opened his eyes wider to see purple surrounding gold-brown eyes staring back at him.

"Hey Donnie," he smiled.

The expression was returned tenfold.

"Hey yourself, big brother. How are ya feeling?"

Leo chuckled and then winced against a spasm of pain. "I think I about summed that up already." He heard his brother laugh gently while turning to do something else. Leo opened his eyes again and observed. He was meddling with something on the table beside him, though he couldn't make out entirely what it was.

"I'm working on a prosthetic hand," he stated as if having read Leo's mind. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save yours. Amidst all the raucous, and then between your wounds and Mikey's…"

Something was suddenly jarred loose inside of Leo's memory.

"Mikey…where is he?"

Donnie sighed and began rubbing the bridge of his beak.

"He's in the family room. Raph's taking care of him."

Leo started to sit up, the rush of blood from his head suddenly increasing the headache he had somehow failed to realize he had moments ago. Donnie started on his feet in an attempt to stop him.

"Leo, really, he's fine. You should worry about yourself right now."

"I just want to see him Donnie, please."

The exhaustion was beginning to creep up to him, and suddenly he felt himself on the verge of blacking out once more.

"Okay, okay Leo! We'll bring him in for you, okay? Just lie back down please."

"Well Donnie said Leo's awake and rollin' around. Being' a pain in the ass as usual."

Mikey chuckled. His one good eye (the other was currently swollen shut; he had asked repeatedly about whether or not they were supposed to put a steak on it, like in those old cartoons, but Donnie has assured him that an icepack and some bandages would suffice – somewhat to Mikey's disappointment) glancing around to catch Raph as he walked past him lying on the couch. He settled in at Mikey's feet (lifting them up and then propping them on his lap as he sat down) and turned on the television.

"I thought I was the pain in the ass," he stated, his gaze not turning away from his brother.

"You're the little pain in the ass," Raph corrected with a smile. "Leo's the big pain in the ass."

"Man, guess I got a lot of living up to do."

A pillow smacked Mikey in the head, having mysteriously rocketed over from Raph's general direction.

"Idiot."

Mikey laughed again while throwing the pillow behind his head in an attempt to get comfortable.

Some timed ticked by between shows and commercials before the two started talking again.

"You doing okay, Mikey?"

"Yeah dude." Mikey sighed, somewhat exasperatedly. This question had punctuated every conversation he'd had with both Raph and Donnie ever since they'd gotten home. "I'm gonna start charging you if you keep asking that." He threw the pillow back at his brother, being playful to lighten the mood. Raphael caught it deftly, revealing for just a sliver of a second a concerned frown on his features before it passed completely and was replaced once again by, Michelangelo realized now with full certainty, a forced smile.

"Hey Raph?"

"Yeah, bro?"

"You okay man?"

The question was apparently unexpected as Raph had to blink himself back into the current topic. His gaze stared through the television, not at it, and was that way for a few seconds before he started to pretend like he hadn't heard Mike. He shifted a few times on the couch before standing up and walking to the kitchen. Mike frowned as he listened (eyes now closed as his head was beginning to hurt) to the fridge door open and close a few times, some padded footsteps back and forth, and then the ultimate disappearance of Raphael altogether.

A few moments later, Raphael returned, shocking Mikey slightly as upon opening his eyes he found that his brother was actually standing almost directly over him.

"Leo's askin' for ya."

If he could have, without experiencing pain, Mikey would have sat up. Instead he just stared up at Raphael with a look of confusion and dumbfounded-ness. Any other day and Raph would have given Mike a ton of crap for that a-typical expression, but not tonight.

"He is?"

"Yeah. C'mon lil' brother. I'll help ya up."

Leo didn't look like himself, lying propped up on the cot that Donnie had situated him in after dragging him home beaten and bruised. Of course, Mikey wasn't really sure what he had been expecting. His big brother's arm, now severed at the wrist, lay limp at his side but there was a glint of old Leo in the smile and those eyes that comforted Michelangelo greatly. Raph released his one armed half support half hug on him and allowed him to saunter over toward Leonardo.

"Hey big bro," he stated hesitantly while sinking into the side of the mattress that held Leo. "How ya feelin?"

"I've been worse," said the other turtle matter-of-factly. He took a few moments to fully assess Mikey's injuries. "How are you? You took a beating back there little brother."

Mike started to respond, but Leo moved too quickly – even injured- for Mike to fully process immediately.

At first both of his hands went up to cup Mikey's face, bruised and cut with the one eye completely swollen shut. Yet as Leo started forward he remembered that one of his hands was now absent, and instead gave in to holding Mike's face in only one hand, the useless going back to lying still at his side.

"It's nothing," Mike shrugged and trying to awkwardly back out of his oldest brother's worrisome inspection. "Donnie's already taken care of me."

The two younger turtles shared a gentle smile before Mikey turned back to Leo.

"How's uh…" Mikey motioned to the severed wrist.

Leo blinked a few times before looking down at his new stump of a hand. He didn't want to really acknowledge it all that much, more concerned for Mike's condition than his own, but looking at it now, wrapped and somewhat still bloodied, he was finally feeling the gravity of where he now stood with his condition.

"Guess I'm only going to be using one sword for a while," he cast a playful grin at Mike who returned it halfheartedly.

"Sorry I didn't get there sooner."

"Don't be sorry, Mike," Donnie interjected from the other side of the room. "You did a good job."

"Yeah," Raph piped in, stepping up behind his younger brother and grabbing his shoulder gently. "Without you this dunderhead probably wouldn't even be in what few pieces he has left."

A whisper of a laugh rippled through the brothers, and Leo gripped Mike's arm in hopes of catching his full attention. It worked. Two bright blue puppy eyes looked up into his, and at that moment Leo felt a huge swell of affection for his youngest brother.

"In all seriousness though Mikey, you did a great job. Thank you."

Mike started to say something, but Leo pulled him into an embrace that silenced the younger turtle. As they sat there in silence, Leo felt pride and gratitude and even some fear at the events that had transpired over the past few days, but as he held Mikey and looked to Donnie and Raph with their tired, grateful smiles, he knew that the horrors that were about to become very real were also very surmountable, and together they would be able to accomplish it.

"Love ya!" Mike laughed in embarrassment, muffled by his brother's shoulder.

Leo smiled.

I'm really not sure what happened here… I just got tired of working on this. Two weeks and nine pages later I want to start a new project, I just need to start watching the 2003 series before I do. Criticism welcome as long as its constructive.