PARTED SHADOWS

by Ignimbrite


Why did I choose to not write this story with my original characters is because that I felt I was inspired by the turtles' personalities. I coulda use different names, but that I'd be feeling like stealing. As for whether you see the original turtles in them that's your own decision. Maybe I suck at that so you just don't see it. Or maybe you do. If you did, I'd be very glad. However, this is called AU (ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE), so we could have any situations we want, right?

Anyway, that's the fun.


II

/Raphael/

Have you ever heard this goddam song—'Learn to be lonely' in the end of the fucking movie 'The Phantom of the Opera'? Don't ask why I know that song—this faggot I used to hang out with (not that kinda hanging-out, whatcha thinking about; you're sick, ya know that?) told me about it. I mean, what's their problem? Come on, you need to learn that? Isn't it just obvious that you're gonna live this fucking life alone? I thought it is an established truth, you know.

Anyway. Let's not argue over some stupid song. That ain't my point. My point is, I hate to be treated like an idiot, like I'm a poor child who's got some serious psychotic issue. I thought we could just go on and forgot about what happened all those years ago, but, hey, just how hard is that?

Oh, and people always looked at me with this calm look and asked me how am I feeling right now. Jesus Christ, will ya shut up? Okay, go on tell me you understand, and you wanna help. Go on. Go on with your rubbish. Go on with all your care and talk and therapy. Have it ever occurred to you that there is no way that you could possibly understand? Hey, you don't have shit happened to you. You don't know one single goddam thing about me.

So we go back to the song. The stupid song. I don't have to fucking learn about how to be lonely. Lonely learns me.

.:.

Leo just had to be right about something.

He thought he saved my ass. Good for him.

"Just one question," Leo said after we got out of the car and started to walk toward the elevator. "Did you actually do it with that Connell guy you talked about?"

I raised an eyebrow. Man. Leo got my full interest going.

"Hell no," I smirked. "He's a nasty fella. Why d'ya ask?"

"Never mind," he said. We walked into the elevator.

Elevator was a pretty small space. I hated crowded elevator. All those heat from other people and such. But Leo's presence wasn't that unpleasant to be around. And the elevator wasn't at all crowded with just the two of us.

My brother was two inches taller than me—years of martial arts training had molded him a strong body, which he often hided under those neatly ironed clothes (he looked very neat, too neat, sometimes, in my opinion) and that well-mannered exterior of a good student. He was a pretentious person, I'd say; you never get to see what's under his shell. If he weren't my brother, I never would have put up with this kind of people. However, he was, indeed, my brother and the only biological family I had on this entirely fucking planet.

The staff at the foster care told dad that Leo never took his eyes off me—he just stayed right next to me all the time like he was afraid that someone would try to steal me away. Our parents died in an accident (nobody ever told us any fuckin details about that tragedy)—Leo had been three years old and I was barely a year old. Then two months later father adopted us.

People said to us from time to time that Leo and I got a special bond that was even rare among brothers. They said we got telepathic power of some sort, that we could tell what each other was thinking, and that we were the exact opposite of each other so we made up to each other's weaknesses. I don't know if that was true, but, to tell the truth, sometimes I couldn't tell what Leo was thinking. Yeah, but I get why they said that. There was indeed something going on between me and Leo—I hated him, I hated him for being my brother, and being that smartass perfect big brother. And this ain't ordinary sibling rivalry; it was…something more. Like a fate or something. It was hard to explain. But I gotta love him, too, 'cause he's my bro. It was ambivalent. Ha, that was a word.

.:.

We lived on the ninth-floor. A nice little apartment with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. Leo and I were a bit too old to share one room, but there was no other choice. Dad didn't earn much with the dojo—he got to pay the rent for both the dojo and the apartment, and those were a lot of money. Leo already worked part-time as waiter in this restaurant, Murakami's, on the street we lived on. He could have move out when he went to college, but he had chosen not to—yeah, it would be a bit lonesome with just me and dad, and pretty awkward, too. Things had gotten weird ever since we got older. Leo knew that dad couldn't do anything about me no matter what kind of troubles I got myself into. Dad always let me do crazy stuff—like the stuff I did today, like the stuff I had done in those high schools, where I got kicked out, I mean. Leo tried to hide away my crimes, but I guessed dad knew what happened—he just didn't know what to do about it.

.:.

"I'll skip dinner," I grunted as Leo opened the door of the apartment. I went past him and walked straight toward our bedroom. He said something behind me, but I couldn't tell what he had said.

Our room was quite roomy compared to dad's. It was the main bedroom. My bed was right under the window (from which you could only see the bricks of the next building and a little patch of New York's grayish sky), while Leo's bed was only two feet away, parallel to mine. We switched beds five years ago because dad and Leo thought the window would do me good. But, c'mon, does it matter with only three feet of difference?

Throwing my book bag on the floor, I collapsed on my bed, facedown. I fell asleep almost right away. Damn, that Schmidt guy really pissed me off. He was really a bastard, sort of twisted. I could tell that he liked me and would like to lay a hand on me. I had seen him peeking at me when I was showering after our PE class. I told that lady O'Neil about this once, and she asked me if it was possible I was only imagining that. What? Like I was paranoid or something? Because of what happened to me all those years ago, now I was afraid of middle-age perverts checking me out? Those psychologists and counselors were the people who really got paranoia. Not me.

.:. .:. .:.

I had no idea how long had I been asleep. When I woke up, the room was dark already. I blinked my eyes in confusion.

"Raph, we left some Chinese food for you," Leo's voice sounded gently behind me.

"Nah I'm not hungry," I muttered into my pillow.

"Alright," he said with reluctance in his voice. I supposed he had explained to dad what happened earlier in school. With lies, of course.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked when something touched my left foot.

"No shoes on bed, we've agreed on that," he replied. I could feel him untying my shoelaces. For some guys like Leo, they just don't understand that you can wear your shoes without undoing and redoing the laces all the goddam time. Pretty dumb, I think.

After he took off my shoes and socks, I rolled over and looked up at him.

"Pants, Fearless," I smirked.

He sighed, "You've woken up, do it yourself."

"I don't feel so well," I lied.

His face changed.

"Yeah?" he frowned, "is that why you've been sleeping all afternoon?"

"Maybe," I shrugged.

He sat down on my bed, and started to strip me.

"You're not gonna take a shower, are you?" he asked after finishing my jeans.

I shook my head. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"You're suspended for a week," he said, pulling my shirt off. "Your teacher called, and Miss O'Neil…she said we need to discuss—"

"Discuss what?" I frowned, sitting up. It was chilly in the room. They didn't turn the goddam radiator on. Dammit.

Leo pushed me down and heaved out a sigh.

"She said she knew a friend, a doctor…"

"What doctor?" I asked harshly, "what fuckin doctor?"

"Raph," Leo stared at me gingerly, "you need help. Your nightmare worsened, your behavior…"

"Don't talk to me about help, about my fuckin behavior. I don't have fucking problems Leo," I sat up again and grabbed his collar.

"Alright," he said and held up his hands, "we'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

"Fuck you," I snorted.

Leo bit his lower lip. "I'm gonna turn the heater on," he said, "sleep tight."

"Whatever," I shoved him away.

.:. .:. .:.

/Five years ago/

"Raphael," someone said, "my son."

I opened my eyes and stared at the bleak sky. Summer had weathered away.

Someone was shaking me hard.

"Answer me, my son," that someone shouted, but I couldn't see his face. "Answer me!"

"He's in shock," another guy said. "We gotta get him to the hospital right now, sir."

Now I saw them. My father, and that other guy in a police uniform. Was I lying on the ground? Yes. Was I naked? Half, yeah. Why? I couldn't quite recall.

My dad's face was covered in tears. Never saw him like that before.

"What happened to him?" he turned to the policeman. "What the hell happened to my son?"

Now another person came into my sight.

"Dad, they called the ambulance already."

My eyes flickered toward the direction of that voice.

It was Leo. My fourteen-year-old brother, who got deep golden hair that appeared to be brown most of the time, and dark blue eyes—who was looking at me with this gaze that was so strange and unlike him. His expression made my heart cold.

"Raph," he whispered as if the sight of me frightened him.

"Leonardo," dad turned to him. "We're going to the hospital with him. Wait for me in the car."

"Father, he's must be freezing," Leo said with a pale face. "Lying in the water for god knows how long…"

Dad shrugged off his jacket and covered me.

"Ah, my Raphael," he casted toward me a pained glance. "I'll kill those men. I'll kill those men…" he started to mumble.

I had never seen my father so enraged. I had never seen brother so lost.

I had never felt so alone.

.:. .:. .:.

/Present/

You always know when it's coming.

Later that night, I woke up again.

Of course he was right next to me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"What's the prob?" I slurred.

"Shut up," he said.

"Y'know I ain't gonna forgive ya."

And now I felt his hand sliding down my side.

"I know," Leo whispered, his fingers staying on my hipbone.

"No," I said. "I wanna touch you."

"No," he said.

"Why not."

"I…"

I pushed him back, and stared down at him. His eyes were just so beautiful, all wide and staring like that. People often said that we got the same eyes while the only differences being shades, but I couldn't see it. His eyes were prettier. I liked those midnight blue; they were deep and unreachable.

"Raph."

Nuh-uh. I brushed his tip slightly.

"Raph…"

I pressed down with my fingers.

"Oh god," he breathed.

"Ya sure like it don'tcha," I snickered.

"Oh Raph stop it," he gasped. "I…I wasn't—"

"You wasn't what?" I asked, not stopping my motion.

"Mmmmm," he had his arms around my waist. "Raph…"

"You're a hypocrite, Leonardo," I smirked.

He closed his eyes and hissed as he tried to bite back some noise.

"Argh, Jesus…" he grasped my shoulder all of a sudden and pulled me closer. His body felt nice and warm as our bare chests pressed together.

"Ya know, that's a bit too quick," I taunted.

He closed his eyes and panted. Hot fluid flooded over my fingers, I brought them to my lips.

"Yer gonna wash the sheets," I said.

"Not after you paid your price," he said, and was suddenly above me.

"I ain't afraid," I said, looking up at him.

"Yeah, keep saying that," he smiled.

He gazed down at me.

"Close your eyes, Raph."

I closed them. "Now what?"

Something icy touched my lower belly a silent minute later. I had no idea what that was, but it started to glide down. Now it slipped into my shorts.

"Leo, what the hell's that?"

"Shhh."

"Leo," I reached out a hand and found his shoulder.

"Stay still," he said.

It was touching my…and it was going in. It was, it was, it was

"Leo, please, stop it, stop it, stop it, STOP IT WOULD YOU FUCKIN STOP IT!"

I shouted, pounding him with my fists.

He stopped.

"You can open your eyes now," he said.

No need for his fuckin orders. I already opened my eyes. He was looking at me with a worried look.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought you…"

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!" I was screaming.

"Hey, shhhh." He gripped my shoulders, "Calm down, Raph. I'm sorry—"

"It ain't fun, Leo," I growled, sitting up and gripping his throat.

Leo tried to wrench free. "That was just an ice cube, Raph, I just thought it would be…"

And that was when our bedroom door flew open.

"What is going on?" dad's voice came from the direction of the door.

"Raph's having a nightmare," Leo answered quickly. Having pushing me back to my pillow, covered my body with my blanket and hopping out of the bed, he was already standing next on the floor. Quick reflexes. Damn bastard. Lucky for him with his back to the door, so dad wasn't able to see that wet patch on the front of his boxers.

"Are you alright, my son?" dad asked.

"I'm fine," I answered in the darkness. "Leo said he's gonna make me somethin' hot ta drink."

"All right," dad said hesitantly, "if you need anything, my son…"

"It's alright, Dad," Leo said reassuringly, "I'm right here with him."

"Thank you, Leonardo," dad sighed, and left us alone.

"I want hot milk," I stared at Leo.

Leo rolled his eyes.

"You're a liar," I smiled mockingly, "you're so good at it."

"You too," he bowed.

"Nah," I shrugged, "not as good as you."

"Alright," Leo hissed, "hot milk it is." He stripped off the dirty shorts and put on a clean pair, heading toward the door.

"No doctors, huh?" I called. "Ya better called O'Neil back tomorrow."

He ignored me.

After the door closed behind him, I turned around so I could face the window. Nothing good out there. Everything was already fucked up as we were. Sometimes I wished dad could catch us while we were doing it. He did, once, a long time ago (I was thirteen or so), but he pretended he never saw it, and never mentioned it—maybe he thought Leo was just checking whether I got testicular cancer or something. Ha, very funny.

Anyway, I hated it. You know, people don't usually do this with their brother, right? And I hated it more when Leo was so calm and so ready to cover every up with his goddam pretentious tricks. He would make a very good CIA agent. Whatever, this was fun to do, I guessed. Leo was hot, couldn't deny that. Ha. Just kiddin. Didn't know how to go on like this, that's all.

—tbc—


I hope that the flashbacks aren't too confusing. I use italics for flashbacks and sometimes monologue.

Review/favorite/follows are very very appreciated and a great encouragement to me. Thank you! Mikey and Donnie coming soon, I guess.