pacphys – How badly is Leo going to take this? You have no idea, but I do hope you like it …

spootycup – ask an' ye shall receive … yea, I findLeo kinda easy to write for …

One Last Breath

"Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe"

As time passed slowly by the turtles continued to grow and develop. Each of their personalities was carefully noted and nurtured by their increasingly busy Father, with daily scourages into the local scrap yard to deliver sufficient amounts of metal to an always questioning, ever wondering Donatello. It had surprised Splinter greatly to see his youngest boy take an active interest in the kitchen, steadily transforming himself from a little boy who had always relied on his position as baby to the self appointed cook. Even now as he observed his son chasing Raphael out of the room in order to prepare lunch … shaking his head in amusement he retreated to his own private dwelling. Raphael was another problem altogether, daily altercations with Leonardo for no other reason than he could were becoming tiresome and demoralising in the same instance. His young son desire to be alone took up a great deal of the rat's time as did soothing his temper and fear, he simply took it forgranted that his eldest son would be coping adequately.

In fact with his twelfth birthday rapidly approaching the boy was demonstrating impressive leadership qualities and a maturity beyond his years. He was the first to rise, and spent much of his free time either reading or studying Japanese culture or his kata's. It even impressed him how well he dealt with the pranks that his youngest was beginning to play with an irritatingly growing frequency. For all of his wisdom and knowledge the old rat simply did not take note of the two set of eyes that silently, and patiently studied him during training sessions. All of his boys were developing in such different ways, each complexion a little different in shade. Raphael was becoming naturally more stocky than his slight, quiet brother in purple. The natural athleticism that accompanied Mikey's enthusiasm shaping him into a rounded, hyperactive child. The fact that his eldest stood slightly taller, with sinewy muscles and toned body did not cause him undue concern, nor did his son's love of exercise.

Watching his children go about their daily business he slipped out of the lair to collect more metal for Donatello's growing interest in electronics.

--

It was a horrible habit to have developed, but it was one that wasn't going to go away any time fast. Slipping from his bedroom he made the dangerous journey from his serene, tastefully decorated bedroom to the dojo. Passing by his Father's quarters he paused in the doorway of the small room next to it. Presently it had very little in it, just to the right of the open entrance was a large welded structure that Donny had put together two weeks previously. His home made shelves stretched up towards the arcing grey ceiling, fastened to the wall with soldered pieces of iron. Across the open stone floor, directly opposite him was Donny's little workstation, another proud feat to his creative prowess. The metal legs supported a battered wooden top that had formerly been part of a store sign. Chewing on the tip of his thumb Leonardo watched Donatello battle away happily with reams of wires that had been brought in for him to experiment with and build things with.

"Donny …" he didn't move from the doorway, his casual tone matched by his casual stance. Sighing as he was ignored he called his brother's name once again. This time he got a response in the form of a quick wave, with a small roll of his eyes Leo walked into the room, squatting down in front of Don's excited face. Giving his thumb one last final nip before pulling it from the side of his mouth he took hold of his brother's wrists. "Donny!" Reluctantly his brother looked up from his work to answer the daily question with a guilty shrug and shy look away. "Breakfast." His tone became clipped, yet playful, "Go, I'll make sure you don't lose your place." Shaking his head in amusement he settled down onto his haunches, his right hand carefully taking a hold of the mass of wires that were handed over to him. With one task dealt with, his thumb went back into his mouth running along the tip of his teeth whilst he waited to be released from this part of the daily routine.

Returning with two unbuttered slices of bread and a glass of milk Donny put them down on the floor before sitting down next to him. "That's a bad habit." His comment was greeted with a small smile, "So is forgetting to eat. I'll be back in thirty minutes …" Leo continued lightly standing up and heading towards the dojo.

"Leo …" Donny's voice caught his attention. "Take it easy in there."

Dismissing the concern his brother voiced Leo did what he did best; he trained. Biting down onto his thumb with more force he slipped into the large wooden floored room chewing on the tip of it guiltily. Drawing the wooden swords from the wall he began to swing them quickly, his eyes narrowing and his focus inward. With each swing his muscles strained, his body tensing up despite his best efforts to keep it relaxed. Abandoning his work out he frowned, angrily chastising himself, He had no reason to feel guilty, it was just a little training session after all. Tension was an odd thing, and the way that Donny had spoken to him just worked the small ball into something larger, finally with his focus failing him he finally stopped. Sighing he ran his hand over his head before ducking out of the lair.

"I'm going out for a run …" he called loudly, not waiting around for another dose of guilt from Don, or ridicule from Raphael he disappeared out of the door...

--

"But you don't find it odd?" sitting on the sofa next to a lounging Raph he attempted to find someone who understood.

"Suckin' up? Leo?" Raph scoffed, balancing the imaginary scales he had made with the palm of his hands. Rolling his eyes he took another handful of potato chips. "They go t'gether betta than night an' day."

"But Sensei isn't here …" Donny pushed, "Whose going to know, other than us, that he is out running again?"

"Again?" Mikey came over to join his siblings on the sofa. "Man … I thought goin' out at 6 would be enough for anyone." Grabbing a handful of chips out of Raph's bag he chewed on them slowly, three sets of eyes curiously turning to read the time on the VCR. 11.12am

"And he's not back yet." Donny concluded quietly.

"Yo' don't think 'es had an accident?" Raph muttered shifting slightly.

"Big bro?" Mikey wrinkled his nose, weighing up the possibility in his head with a small nodding motion. "Nah, not Leo." In his eyes his brother was like a God or something, he spent so much of his time copying their Dad that there was no way he'd get himself into trouble. It just wasn't his style. "Not his style …" he told them confidently rolling off the back of the sofa to head back towards the kitchen. "Pizza good for lunch?"

--

Damn Donny! Why had he had to go and make him feel so bad? Running for longer and far harder than he had intended meant that Leonardo was now tearing back through the passages of the sewer at a pace akin to a dead sprint.

Beads of sweat seeped through his pores, creeping up over his brow to crash down over his eyes ridges and soak into his blue bandanna. Reaching up a shaking, cramping arm he wiped the salty water from his eyes, gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain in his sides and throbbing that was developing behind his eyes … slowing his speed the eldest turtle slipped back into the lair as the scent of freshly cooked pizza wafted through it.

12.49pm. He'd been out for too long, and he knew it. Softening his steps he crept towards the bathroom, his teeth working with soundless determination on the side of his left thumb. Within stepping distance of the bathroom door his successful journey was undermined by his father's quiet voice.

"Leonardo, do you not intend joining your brothers for lunch?"

Pausing by the bathroom door, he smiled brightly, turning back round to face the patient expression the old rat wore. Pulling his thumb from his mouth he did his level best to hide the wave of shame that ran through him. By being late he had brought more disappointment down upon his brothers and himself. Again.

(We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect)

"I'm just going to have a shower Sensei."

Smiling, Splinter nodded his head towards his son, "I will tell Michelangelo to keep some pizza back for you. Do not be too long."

"I won't." Behind his back the digits of his left hand began to work fervently over his still damp thumb. Watching his father leave he slid into the bathroom, pushing the door to with the tip of his foot.

--

"Bro?" the steam from a still running shower greeted the great turtle explorer extraordinaire 'Mikey' Michelangelo. When Leo hadn't turned up at the dinner table after twenty minutes the waiting brother's had started to complain, when he still hadn't shown his face after another fifteen Mikey had jumped at the chance to grab him. It beat a hungry Raph grabbing and pummelling him. "Yo, big bro?" the hot water of the shower obscured his vision, and left the air misty and overly warm. Fanning his hand in front of his face the youngest of the four made out the silhouette of his brother standing over the small tin sink Dad had brought home from the scrap yard. "Man … someone's gonna be havin' cold showers tonight!" Out of all of them Leo usually acknowledged Mikey's jokes, even the bad ones. Pouting Mikey walked over to his brother's turned back, perching himself down on the tip of the metal tub they stood in when they showered. "Er … Leo …"

The sound of running water intermingled with fervent splashing greeted the direct call for attention. Now that the steam was starting to clear a little Mikey could see his brother's shivering arms, and judging by the way his arms jerked in circles and around the inside of the basin he didn't seem too interested in talking. Hauling his ass up with an exaggerated sigh he hopped round on one foot to turn off the tap, his curiosity piqued. "What's so cool?" Ducking his head down he caught not only his brother's eyes but his expression. He was biting down on his lower lip, his eyes focussed intently on the contents of the sink and the washing action he was engaged in. Behind the brown eyes was something Mikey wouldn't forget, his perfect, cool, and controlled brother looked scared. Following his brother's line of sight Mikey's eyes widened with terror. The diluted red that flooded the sink had to come from somewhere. And the only place that it could be was his brother. Splashing up and over the side of his brother's wrists, and then over his palms before being caught by the water and disappearing down into the sewage system of New York. He couldn't even see the wound …

"DAAAAD!" His scream of terror filled the lair.

----

To those reading my work, thanks for stopping by, to those reviewing thanks for giving me some of your time!
Heir

PS; Disclaimer - One Last Breath and its lyrics are the property and creative genius of the band Creed and their respective record label.