Webbed Glass

This story is RaphxMikey and LeoxDonnie

Chapter 2

Did it really matter? All of the fighting, all of the struggling. It didn't seem worth it in the end. Crime continued, hatred flourished, people remained prejudice and the dreams came back. Haunting, sad, frightening, but worse yet the seared burnt images behind his eyelids so when ever he slowly blinked or closed his eyes to rest they would be there to greet them in all of their horrors. But Michelangelo helped make that struggle less of a burden, made the crime not seem so bad. He brushed off the hatred, stuck his tongue out at the prejudice, and chase the dreams away with his bright smile, care free laugh and warmth. That warmth...

Raphael flexed his fingers, he had been sitting up on the roof top of April's shop for... well he got up when it was barely getting dark, and now it was nearly dawn. He had been staring at his hands the whole time trying to fight of the need to sleep, trying to understand the questions that whirled about in his mind. Why me? Why him? Is there something wrong with me? What's wrong with me?

He wanted to know the answers so badly. Last night, when Michelangelo had held onto him so tightly, the soft whispers of breath against his neck. Dark eyes squeezed shut hoping to see those horrors, hoping that he was doing what his head was telling him he was doing. But all he could see was sweet Mikey, underneath him in the morning. Staring up, one hand holding onto his bicep, the other bracing himself against the cold floor. The feel of his legs tangled with his own left a burning sensation wherever their skin touched. They had gotten into a fight, verbal at first. Michelangelo wanted to know what was wrong, had been direct after talking with Leonardo and Donatello. The emerald turtle insisted that everything was okay, that nothing was out of the ordinary. But the orange clad brother insisted, stumbled over his own words when he saw with each one his precious older brother was tensing more and more. Raphael snapped, yelled at him, called him things he shouldn't have. But the anger was brushed to the side, seen through by those blue eyes, and he continued to insist. When he could not reach Raphael by words he had lunged, he was desperate, he wanted to know why Raphael had woken up screaming that morning when he had left after hearing Leonardo up and about. That scream, it wasn't like the desperate shouts he had heard before in battles, it had not been fake, joking, not even dark or angry. Raphael had been terrified. Everyone came into his room, brothers and father gathered around a still body that stared up at the ceiling as if nothing else existed in the world. His insistent talk about how he was okay, how he had only a nightmare was noted as a way to back off. But Michelangelo was not a quitter, and thus why he had gone physical with his brother. If the red loving turtle was not going to listen to words then perhaps physical actions would be a better route.

That was how they ended up wrestling, that was how they ended up being tangled together in the middle of the living area. How blue eyes pleaded for something that Raphael couldn't provide. How could he when he did not know the answer himself? Then fingers started to caress, arms wrapped around his neck and held on tightly. Michelangelo's body was so warm as it pressed against his Mikey shivered as if he was cold and tried to press himself further into his brother's body when unsure hands came to his shell. "I love you Raph," the voice quivered in his memories. "You're not alone... you gotta-" The words were cut off by a constricting throat that warded off a sob. A shaking hand came to the back of his head and pressed making the embrace some how deeper than before.

"I'm okay Mikey," he had said trying to sooth his emotionally wrecked brother. "I'm okay," he whispered pushing away that thought that wondered why he was so very uncertain of that.

Raphael flexed his hands once more, "I'm okay, Mikey... really..."

Looking up at the dawning sky he decided to go back home. Shifting he allowed himself to fall forward, grabbing a pipe to slow his decent before landing soundlessly on the cold ground at the bottom of the alley way. With a sigh, he pressed his palm against one of his eyes. He was tired again. Now it's been well over 24 hours since the last time he had slept but all he needed was a good cup of coffee or maybe some of that tea that Leo makes.

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"What do you think?" Leonardo paced Donatello's room right under the landing the other teen had his bed perched upon.

Purple clad eyes peered over the edge of a book and down to the one below. He let the book fall forward in his loose grip, "To be honest I don't know what to think. Perhaps all of his vigilant acts are finally catching up to him as well as our little 'misadventures.' He probably needs some time off and away. Policemen, firemen, and people in the military have access to psychiatrists that help them deal with their problems so that they don't loose it while on the job. We're just mutant turtles and the best we've got to being able to vent is to talk to one another which doesn't really help."

Leonardo paused to look up at those eyes that were watching him, "What do you mean? We're family, no matter what we should be able to come to one another."

"Not... necessarily," Donatello closed his book and set it to the side. The look he got from his brother told him that he best explain a bit more. "A psychiatrist is trained in how to identify the problems, in ways to help apply therapy or administer medication. People go to psychiatrists to keep secrets secret while going to a family member doesn't really help."

"Donnie, I don't-" he hushed when a hand was raised.

"If Raphael came into this room right now, and decided to tell you that he was having night terrors because a dog bit him what would you think?"

"That he probably needed more sleep and training."

"Exactly. You've already established a way of thinking towards him, towards all of us because you know us. Your opinion of our personal problems have been tainted due to your relationship with each one."

Leonardo sighed, coming closer to the small loft that Donatello called his bed. His fingers wrapped around the edges as he looked up, "You're right. But I don't like this, it's starting to scare Mikey."

"Just Mikey huh? I can really tell who you care about here," a half smile played on green-brown lips.

"You know what I mean," reaching up he grabbed a tail of purple. Pulling it down he guided a familiar face to his, "And you know I don't like your word games."

"True, but they are fun."

Forest green lips pressed against Donatello's soft and chaste. They had not said anything about the slowly blossoming relationship that was developing between them. Then again the two had been confused as to why they had their first kiss in the work shop when everyone was gone. Leonardo still could feel the heavy leather apron pressed against his chest when the welding mask clattered to the floor. The surprised look on his little brother's face was something to remember and he would always remember it.

"Raph's home!" Mikey's excited voice darted past the room startling the pair. Donatello had to hold onto Leonardo's arms to prevent any unfortunate accidents. Falling back on one's shell was one thing, falling off of the lower loft down into a pile of test tubes that were lined up for cleaning was another. Donatello let out a chuckle at the blush on his love interest's face.

"Uh... Raph's home... I guess," Leonardo cleared his throat trying to calm the heat in his face.

"I guessed that as well when the Mikey torpedo came rushing by. Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we should talk to Raph about taking a vacation. Just him, away from everything, even us."

"But the trouble he could-" a soft press of lips shut him up effectively.

"That's why we talk to him first," Donatello whispered against lips.

"O-Okay."

Funny, Leonardo had the hardest time thinking when Donatello was involved, he always had. Maybe because of the soft nature, perhaps it was due to the fact that those eyes were always so curious and never condescending. No, he knew better than that. He had a hard time thinking because he loved Donatello, he really did. When he first realized it he didn't know what to do. It was his brother, his little brother that was always tinkering away to give them new gadgets to play with. But after a while he realized there was no one else he could be with, even if he found a suitable woman there was no guarantee that she would stick around. He was a mutant, and there were very few of his kind around. And Donatello accepted him, let him take that first kiss, let him hug him extra long, allowed him to hold someone so very precious in his arms. No one else could do that, only big brained, huge hearted Donnie.

To Be Continued...