Disclaimer: Not mine…*sigh*
Leonardo did not have long to contemplate the possible meaning to his dream before the sounds of two arguing voices from the adjacent den derailed his train of thought and sent it hurling into a ditch of lost thought. The memories drifted to the back of his mind like billowing dust from the impact.
"Mike and Raph," he muttered, the heated exchange he heard coming as no shock to him.
Their irritated voices were escalating, and as much as Leo hated having to play referee between those two, he often took it upon himself as leader to try to maintain the peace in their subterranean home. Stifling a yawn and idly wondering why they were awake so early, he got himself out of bed and positioned himself silently at the den opening to assess the situation.
Raphael had the television remote firmly in his hand and a thoroughly smug expression adorning his features. Michelangelo was attempting to wrestle it from the red masked turtle's grip without success.
"Give me the remote, dude!" Mike demanded. "You're being totally uncool."
"No way, Mike! It's mine, fair and square!" Raph retorted. "We agreed last night at dinner that if I let you have the last slice of pizza that I could have the TV for the morning."
"Yah…well…" Mike huffed, grasping for words. "You should know it's unfair to tempt me with pizza, and that was before I knew it was Monster Movie Marathon Monday Month!"
"Negatory, Michelangelo. As Leonardo would say: 'you must do the honorable thing and stand by your agreements," Raph chided, waggling a finger at his youngest sibling.
Leonardo shook his head in mild bemusement at Raph's version of something the leader probably would have said. He cleared his throat to gain his brothers' attention, choosing that moment to make his presence known before things got ugly. Both of his siblings' heads whipped up in surprise. Raphael, the remote forgotten, dropped it on the couch beside himself. Mike caught the action and swiftly snatched it, discreetly tucking it in his belt alongside his nunchucks.
"Well-hell-hell-hell!" Raph said mirthfully, drawing the word out in a sing-song tone. "Look who finally decided to return to the land of the living! You never sleep in, Leonardo! What's the special occasion?"
"It must be National Eat Pizza Day, and Leo's resting up for it!" Mike chimed in enthusiastically.
Raphael raised an eyebrow ridge at the orange clad turtle, "Every day is eat pizza day for you, Mike."
"Touché," Mike grinned cheekily, "but a dude can dream…"
Upon hearing the word "dream", Leonardo was reminded of the disturbing one he had had. His expression grew apprehensive as it returned to the forefront of his mind.
Raphael noticed his leader's change in demeanor and his mood melted to concern for Leonardo quicker than snow in July.
"Leo?" he inquired, his voice losing its snarky edge. "You ok?"
"Yes, Raphael, I'm ok," Leo lied. "I just had a very strange dream last night. You mentioned I slept in? What time is it?"
"Just about ten in the morning," Raph replied.
"Ten in the morning," Leo echoed uncomfortably, as if testing the words of a foreign language for the first time. "I must have slept through my alarm. I've –"
Leonardo was interrupted by Donatello entering the den from his lab. The genius had a mug of steaming coffee in one hand, and the latest issue of "Genius Quarterly" in the other. He stood in one spot for a few moments, his eyes glancing from brother to brother. Don was a thinker, and his mind was always on the go. He took in each of their expressions and tried to calculate possible scenarios as to what was transpiring. First and foremost, he garnered the mixed emotions radiating off of Leonardo, adding to the air of antagonism between Mike and Raph.
"Greetings, gentlemen!" he grinned, trying to disperse the tense atmosphere. "What's going on?"
"I slept in, Donatello," Leonardo stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Donatello took a thoughtful sip of his coffee. He knew Leonardo's habits well. Leo was a turtle of structure and routine. He awoke at the same time every day. While his schedule was open to variations, and he did take down-time for hobbies, his training was extremely important to him. Leo had a tendency to push himself hard. To Donatello's analytical thought process, a slip up such as sleeping late could have been Leo's body's way of telling him he was exerting himself a little too much.
"Have you been staying up late?" Donatello inquired. "Maybe training more than usual?"
Leonardo shook his head. "No, I haven't changed anything."
"Maybe it was a onetime fluke thing, dudes," Mike interjected.
"Ohhhh," Raph nodded in understanding, "like when one of Donatello's inventions actually works?"
Donatello snorted lightly in indignation. "I'll have you know plenty of my inventions are successful. And how many times have I saved your sorry tail? However, those facts are not up for debate right now. We seem to have more pressing matters at hand."
Leonardo shifted uneasily as more details from his dream came flooding back. Don can fix it…the words reverberated in his mind. Fix what? Was there something wrong with him? He felt fine…maybe just slightly tired, but nothing a few hours' sleep couldn't remedy. But hadn't he slept a lot already? Something's about to go very wrong…like a warning siren flashed in his skull, the phrase flitting on nervous butterfly wings. His stomach twisted and tossed like a ship in a storm thrown carelessly about by the uncaring winds. He barely registered the three sets of eyes instantly lock on him as he felt suddenly chilled and clammy. He clutched his stomach as the nausea grew. He was hardly able to groan out an "I don't feel so good," before darkness overtook him.