Disclaimer: I don't own them already~ *cries* Stop rubbing it in!

Warnings: Turtlecest and lots of Angst! I'm not called the Angst-Queen for nothing by my friends! :D But seriously... lots of emotional stuff in this one - only a small action scene... and really... i just wanted to show how much Raphael's actions screwed everyone over, as well as the healing process... ... or maybe i'm just a sucker for emotional pain... D:


They Stumbled Toward Ecstasy

By: Melissa the Damgel

Fearless

~3~

It had started so innocently, a shy smile here, a peek there, and the occasional soft touch. Donnie didn't remember when it had started, but he was probably fourteen when he found himself blushing when he was addressed by him or trying to find ways to be near him. It wasn't until they were seventeen that he felt the courage to say anything.

He marched up to him late in the night, the lair silent, the candles low and flickering as death lingered close to their flames, and he stared at him, his heart hammering and his eyes wide as he stared up at Leonardo, waiting for his answer. A kiss. A hesitant, shy and naïve kiss that caused butterflies to flap wildly in their bellies and a gentle innocence of love to blossom then and there. They tasted the nectar of the forbidden fruit and seemed to enjoy it.

It had lasted a year. Looking back, it had always been awkward and disjointed, one pulling away or ignoring the other, one never fully in the moment or one of them never being completely honest. Donatello ignored it, he hid behind the illusion that the physical pleasure they gave each other was their sign of love. He completely lost himself in their relationship of make believe and pretend.

"I'm going away." Leo told him standing in front of him in the middle of Don's lab.

"Where?" Donnie asked and a hint of sadness touched his words.

"Splinter advised that I take time away from the group. I need to once again focus myself so I will be a better leader." He said, his eyes avoiding Donnie's. "And I agreed... but for a personal reason as well."

Staring up at him and knitting his brows together, Donnie reached out to him, attempting to touch his arm, but Leonardo pulled away sharply before he could ever touch him. "Leo?"

"I... I need to get my head straight Don. I... I find myself more and more in love with Mikey every day. In the beginning I thought maybe perhaps I could learn to love you, but, I can't seem to get him out of my head. He... he haunts me in my sleep..." He whispered, bowing his head in shame but honesty.

Donatello broke, he literally felt himself fall apart and shatter like glass upon concrete upon hearing Leonardo's confession. He looked down, he looked up, he looked at his hands, but in the end, he forced a smile and tried to qualm the shaking in his voice. "I guess that would be a good idea. I... I don't want you to be confused." He stuttered, finding his voice after a minute. When Leo raised his eyes and looked back up at him, he smiled as warmly as possible and reached out, touching his arm. "Be safe though, whatever you decide. I... just want you safe."

Leonardo's lips thinned but relief flooded his face and he nodded. He reached for Donnie's hand and squeezed his fingers gratefully. "Thanks." He whispered and leaned in giving Donnie a quick hug. "I'm sorry... I really tried. I couldn't... get over him, but, I - I'd never trade what he had." he gave him a quick squeeze before he released him and bowed his head again and then left, leaving him alone in the wide expanse of his room.

Donatello had managed to not cry. He managed to stay calm and collected for the rest of the week that Leo was there, but that night after waving farewell to his brother as he snuck aboard a ship heading off into the world, he locked his door, curled up in bed, and finally released every ounce of pain that had built up within him.

He didn't come out for days, saying it was just a project he was working on - and they believed him. He either wallowed upon his bed hiding his face and allowing his pillow to soak up the tears, or he sat at his computer or work station, staring into space and remembering everything; every touch, every conversation, everything that he had loved about Leo and himself together. He had loved him. He had given so much of himself and now he had that even ripped from him and he felt empty, naked, raw, incomplete, foolish, and so young. He had been destroyed by giving so much of himself to someone who had pretended for over a year that he was someone special to him.

He pretended for his family, he pretended that he was the same 'brainiac' and rather cocky scientist who was always inventing things in his lab or working on his projects. When he was reminded of his duties to his family, he got a job; anything to isolate himself so he wouldn't have to answer the questions of 'what's wrong?' or 'are you okay?' He didn't think he could handle those questions. He hid behind a pretense of stress, or frustration, behind the idea that he wasn't happy because Leo hadn't returned when he said he would and the undesired responsibilities that Splinter was placing upon him. He pretended and he succeeded. He even succeeded in pretending it didn't bother him after Leo did return and he told him he loved Mikey after two years of pondering that single question.

And that night, a month after Leo had returned and the pressure of two years of pain and dealing with it alone was too great, he found himself in Raphael's room, looking at the only brother he could go to, the only brother who hadn't done something to him or meant something horrible. He had used him that night, used him for selfish comfort and support, but he needed it and Raphael hadn't questioned him. In the end, he gravitated towards him, finding relief and even happiness.

And before long, he found himself with a new love, a new warmth that was different, and yet, something more. He didn't know if it was more powerful, but it began to eclipse the pain till the day he found himself taping himself back together and once again whole and ready, ready to try and fill the gaps and tell him the truth of why he had forced him to wait so long. Yet once again his plans failed and he was far more shattered than he was before. This time he lay broken and bleeding in a chasm at the bottom of a frozen valley. Nothing seemed worth it anymore.


He didn't run - he didn't think he had enough breath in his body for such strenuous effort - but he didn't stumble either. He walked, he walked quickly and with purpose, he walked away from the lair and he walked with his eyes downcast and his feet leading the way. His face twisted up for the hundredth time and he gritted his teeth, shaking his head and trying so hard not to cry, but the red lining his eyes and darting through the whites to his pupils gave away his best efforts.

Scrubbing at his face, Donnie choking on his breath and he swallowed hard past the lump in this throat. He didn't know whether to laugh at his own stupidity or feel betrayed. It wasn't like he had told Raph anything or gave him any reason to care. He had been cruel to him really. He had known what he felt for him and yet he hadn't been able to open his mouth to reciprocate.

"Donnie!"

Don choked and he growled, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut till he nearly stumbled, a hand slapping against the sewer wall to keep his self from falling over. He didn't want to see him... he didn't want to talk... he didn't think he could talk anyway.

"Don!" Raphael shouted as he ran up behind him, his hand reaching out for him and grabbing at his elbow, forcing him to turn towards him.

"Don't touch me!" Donatello yelled his voice hoarse and choked. He pulled away from him, his shell hitting the wall violently and stopping him from backing away any further.

Raphael stared at him and swallowed hard. He fought with himself to keep from grabbing him and holding him. He stood in front of him, watching him shiver; and he himself suddenly felt oh so naked here in front of him. "Dona-"

"Don't!" Don hissed, keeping his head down and his eyes closed.

The anger Raphael felt at himself was surpassing anything he had ever felt in the past. He didn't know whether to yell or hit something, or to sulk, but in the end, he leaned forward, planting a hand upon the wall beside Donatello's head. "Don't you dare shut down, Don. I... I screwed up... yell at me, hit me, anything. Don't make me solely the bad guy when you're the one who won't tell me why you don't love me."

Donnie shook his head, turning his face away and breathing rapidly - but he was too close. He could feel his warmth. "It's not that I didn't..." He whispered and stopped, his throat tightening and his eyes heating with warmth.

"Then what is it? Why has it always been like this?"

He couldn't talk; he physically couldn't talk past the pain in his throat. He shrugged for lack of a verbal response and he pushed at the other's chest, trying to give himself room to just breathe; but Raphael was quick to grab his hand, trying to hold him tightly.

"Don't touch me. Come back when you don't smell like sex." Don whispered and pushed past the startled and ashamed Raphael who let him go, watching him walk away on shaky legs.


Don had practically disappeared. It felt like years since he last saw him (three days in actuality) but Raphael couldn't stand it anymore. He looked for him every evening and far into the night, traversing the sewers, wandering the dumps, searching behind electronic stores. He finally had to resort to going to the garage and waiting for him - but again he was thwarted and he wandered back down into the lair defeated for yet another night.

Raphael hesitated as he looked up, seeing Michelangelo staring at him from the kitchen. Avoiding Mikey had been fairly easy at first. Guilt ate at his conscious and shame shadowed every step he took; and to make matters all the more strange, Leonardo had not said a word. He didn't lecture; he didn't force any of them into the same room. He hadn't even called them to practice in the last few days and he would disappear now and then for hours at a time only to return looking tired.

Looking down then back at Michelangelo's silhouette in the doorway of the kitchen's burning yellow bulb, Raphael shifted, glancing around the shadowed lair quickly as he pretended to scratch his head, and once seeing it was devoid of life save but the two of them, he shuffled towards his brother, hesitating once he stood in front of him.

When he glanced at him, Mikey was staring at something else off to the side, his hands shaking by his sides.

He reached for him suddenly, his arms wrapping about him and Mikey's arms wrapped just as tightly around him. He clung to him and Raphael held him tight, but not so close as to give him false pretense. "Sorry..."

Michelangelo's fingernails dug at his shell and he buried his face against his neck. "Can't you-"

"No..." Raph whispered. "And you'd know it."

"But-" Mike started but he bit his lips, knowing it was useless. "I wish it could have been different." He choked out.

"I know. I wish it could have been too." He agreed and rested his cheek atop his head. "But I love him too damn much."

Mikey clung to him, his heart hammering and his eyes hot behind his lids. He swallowed hard and inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent and taking a moment to feel what his arms felt like around him, what his heart sounded like, what his hands felt like pressed against his shell. It was so wonderful and yet the most heartbreaking moment of his life.

Raph gave him a short squeeze then pulled away, his eyes darting away to avoid Mike's blue pair and he turned from him with a slight pat on the head that hurt more then when he had left him the other day and ran after Donnie.

Michelangelo watched him walk away and his stomach hurt and his head pounded, and he no longer wanted to be anywhere in the open. He left the kitchen then, shuffling to his room and hiding within its depths, curled up in a blanket and staring at his comics - because nothing he read would make him think of anything else but the pain.


If he took the time to think about it, Raphael found himself longing for his voice in his head. He could still hear him against his ear like a breathy whisper, a warm puff of air against his neck even though nearly two weeks of Donatello's absence was stretching before him like the heated expanse of Death Valley without any relief in sight.

He twisted hard to the right and raked a sai across the belly of a Purple Dragon, his jaws clenched, breath being gulped into desperate lungs that echoed though his helmet. The lights atop his head flashed in brilliant colors as it blinded another punk with purple hair. Raphael simply kicked him, sending him sprawling and banging his head against the brick buildings they fought between.

Moving hard – everything he did was with a firm hand and an even tighter fist – Raphael held nothing back. There was no voice in his head to tell him to ease up, there was no voice to tease him about his anger management methods; there was no voice to go home to. He fought like a fire was nipping at his heels; like a bullet was lodged in his chest and he knew he would die any moment now. He fought to feel alive.

He punched and jumped, landing atop a rather large brute of a punk and wrapped the chain around his neck as he jerked backwards, forcing him back and then falling forward atop another of his gang. He moved fast and with purpose, not just to beat them, but to destroy them. His thoughts - so jumbled and so heavy from the events of the last few weeks forced his muscles to move faster and his mind to shut down into nothing but the instincts of a hunter. He smashed the ball at the end of the chain into a guy's jaw, effectively breaking it, and he leaped backwards, hand springing away from another before he threw his sai into a punk's throat.

It was messy, it was ugly, but he fought without hesitation. He lunged to keep his feet shuffling, he side stepped to keep his arms moving and his hands catching weak attempts to kill him with pocket knives and metal poles. He allowed his mind to fade and send him into a trance of violence because if he stopped, if he dared to even think of anything else, he didn't know if he would be able to focus again. To see Donnie's face in his mind's eyes curling in on himself as he knelt there over Mike…. Raphael knew the Purple Dragon punks would get that opportunity to slice him up if he paused and they would defeat him, all because Raph knew he deserved it after what he had done. So he didn't think, he didn't ponder what he should have done or said. He only knew of the energy in his limbs, the anger in his chest, the fire in his belly, and the burning in his eyes.

Jabbing his palm into a guy's nose and shoving him away, he turned and easily flipped another man running at him with a knife up over his head using the man's own momentum and dropped him without any regard. The man landed on his face, shattering his nose and what was left of his teeth. With a flick of his wrist and a quick movement of his arm, Raph whipped the chain over his head and it collided hard with a guy's face and then wrapped around another's arm. He tugged and snapped bones and with a shake he unraveled the length so it was once again screaming through the air and before he knew it, he was alone.

Panting hard, his hands gripping his remaining weapons tightly while they shook at his sides, Raphael blinked several times and his brows knotted. He had to move, find another fight; he couldn't stand there and do nothing because he was already hearing the scream in his ears, the gut wrenching stab of heat and betrayal in his belly at his actions, the tears from dark eyes.

He didn't feel the guy running at him till he fell at his feet, dead. Raph jumped back, staring at the man with the nasty looking hunting knife. He turned slowly, the lights on his helmet flashing across silver and steel before it settled upon Leonardo's grim face. He didn't exactly move right away nor did he feel anything at the realization that Leonardo had just saved his neck. He just felt numb.

"He snuck up on you." Leo said simply, giving his sword a hard and fast swipe through the air to fling any and all remaining blood from it before he again sheathed it smoothly.

Raph grunted and looked away, jerking on the ball and chains so they slid back up into their holders on his back and he went hunting for his sai. He realized he should have been annoyed that Leo had to be all cool, but he didn't have the emotional energy for it.

"What are you going to do now?" Leo asked, remaining where he stood and looking over the expanse of over twenty gang members who were more than likely dead.

"Find some more."

Leonardo frowned and folded his arms, bobbing his head. He knew better than to comment on that when he was emotional like this.

Raphael found his weapons, gingerly cleaning the steal free of blood on a punk's shirt before he tucked them at his sides. When Leo still hadn't said anything he finally looked to him and pulled his helmet off, wiping sweat from his brow and his mouth turned down severely at the corners. "What? No lecture?"

He watched him shake his head, his brown eyes settling on something past him, off into the streets of New York and to the glowing lights beyond. "No... I was wondering if I could join you." Leonardo finally asked, lost in his thoughts.

Raphael grunted, shaking his head - but the numbness refused to fade. The fog that was blocking him from truly feeling amazed that Leo of all his brothers would want to be out here fighting beside him in such a dishonorable act of pure violence, parted momentarily to make him realize how odd it sounded coming from Leo's mouth. But he brushed his request away like water on oiled sails and he stared at anything but Fearless. "Whatever." he whispered.

They climbed the fire escapes, finding themselves once more among the city from above. Like avenging angels who had lost their wings they breathed in the scent of the city, they felt the sea air on their skin, and that city of wind was nothing but a lie because it seemed as though kindness was lost and fading into the darkness of the alleys where punks with knives and men with guns raped and plundered their victims of dignity. Where people in the security of their own homes betrayed their loved ones just as readily as any criminal might in a back lot shrouded with darkness.

They patrolled for an hour, finding only a few muggers and one questionable kid who was prowling outside the window of an elderly woman's window before Raph scared him away by landing beside him and raising his sai. They never did find another rival gang to fight. Perhaps it was for the best, neither of them seemed completely in the moment. Even if they had been, it still wouldn't' have been enough to make him forget – the constant moving, the cheap rush of adrenaline as he fought and the deprivation of certain thoughts so his heart wouldn't hurt so much only made them catch up to him in force later in quiet moments when he finally stopped to breathe.

Raphael blinked a few times as the cool wind brushed across his cheeks. The brothers ended up sitting on the edge of the highest building in the neighborhood district just past three, staring at the lights of the big city just a few blocks away – and the fog began to clear. Bits and pieces of the last week forced themselves on him, making him watch as Donnie cried.

He felt Leonardo's hand on his shoulder. It pressed there, warm and firm, an unyielding band of support and strength. Raphael blinked several more times; his muscles burned as he stiffened, his heart hammered, and he suddenly realized he couldn't see anything as moisture gathered and spilled across chilled flesh. He wilted, he physically fell forward, bowing his head and he hid his face behind a leather glove as he grieved. The first stifle of a sob gushed from his chest and it choked in his throat. He tried to breathe, he really did, but it was nothing but a sharp inhale and a shudder of revulsion. How could he do that? How could he have possibly done what he had done in his right mind? All the while, that strong hand held his shoulder, unmoving, nonjudgmental, and he needed that. He desperately needed that support offered to him free of charge.

"I don't know what to do." Raphael whispered and his voice was so much deeper and smoother than he had been expecting it to be.

Leonardo nodded his head, staring at the city, his face emotionless, schooled and masked so as to not sway him one way or another. "Do you love him?" He asked quietly, brown eyes catching the street lamps and illuminating them with the richness of honey burning in their depths.

Raphael's head bobbed and he lifted his face again, staring at nothing yet looking towards the distance as though looking past the buildings and to a far bright blue sky beyond. "Yes."

The fingers tightened their grip, the warmth pressing further past the leather and into his flesh where it felt like a burning brand. "Then you need to tell him. Fight for him, Raphael. Don't give him up." Leonardo swallowed hard and blinked twice as he seemed to wake up and he turned, staring at Raphael, demanding his attention and not moving till his eyes were locked with Raph's tumultuous amber. "He's worth it."

His chest tightened. Raphael could probably count on one hand how many times he and Fearless had had a conversation that was both honest and worth the time to have. But something in his eyes, the conviction, the pure desire to give Raphael the permission to fight for him - it made his insides twist and his head to spin. He looked away then, unable to stare into his eyes any longer and not feel dizzy. Raph didn't know what to say or do, but one word finally escaped past his lips, one word that made everything that was happening feel so heavy.

"How?"

Leonardo gripped his shoulder again and he was silent.

"What happened between you and Mikey?" Leo finally whispered, his hand slowly sliding from his arm and back to his lap.

He shook his head, looking down to his own hands resting atop his knees. "I don't know. I didn't... It wasn't exactly somethin'..." He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, his head tilting as his shoulders tightened. "He said he loved me, Leo. Ya know? I mean... Don doesn't let me say it to him. He gets this look like he's punched in the gut when I try - so I've had ta keep it all bottled up. And Donnie hasn't said anything either. He doesn't do or say anythin' that makes me think he's cared." Raphael stopped and gripped his knees, his jaw clenching as he inhaled deeply, steeling himself to the brutal honesty of his deepest thoughts. "That's not true. I could feel it when I was with him. When he'd hug me; the way he would scold me all quiet like. But he never once has said anything. He's always stayed quiet."

Leonardo listened, bobbing his head and watching him, his hands gripped tight with fingers woven together, "But?" he forced out, his jaw clenched.

Raphael swallowed hard. "But hearin' it... I was so stupid!" He shouted suddenly, his face twisting up. "I just wanted Donnie ta say it so bad! Mike was just there! I didn't mean ta hurt him, but damnit, Leo, I was angry at Don for makin' me feel like trash because he was to scared or... or whatever the hell it is that made Donnie lock himself up like that. He puts on a brave face, but he forgot me somewhere-"

"He didn't forget you." Leonardo whispered, inhaling deeply and sighing loudly, looking up toward the starry sky. "He wouldn't have reacted like he did if he didn't care. I'd say he loves you more than you think." His brows knitted together and his lips thinned a bit.

Raphael was quiet as he absorbed that and shook his head finally, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and then up over his head, fingers shaking and lips trembling. "I messed this up. I wouldn't blame Don if he doesn't want me now." He whispered.

Leonardo smiled sadly and glanced at him, nodding his head, "Yeah."

Raph snorted and looked down towards the street, straightening his back a bit under his shell as he leaned back on the ledge. "Gee, thanks, really needed ya to agree there, Leo."

Leonardo shrugged with that smile still on his lips as he glanced toward him - but it faded and that look, that lost and yet all knowing look bore down into Raphael's gut and clutched at his soul, dragging his mind back into his body and forcing him to truly pay attention to him. "Talk to him, Raph. You screwed up, I won't deny that. But tell him you're sorry, if nothing else. Tell him. Don't give him up. You'd be an idiot to do so."

He nodded, his mouth thinning and turning down severely at the corners, his shoulders squaring as he felt his stomach flip once again. "What should I tell him?" He asked cautiously.

"Everything," Leo told him, reaching out to grip his elbow, leaning towards him. "You don't hide from anything, Raph. Don does, he hides inside of himself. He needs someone to remind him again and again that he is amazing. He... he wants someone to take him away from his worries and into this world that is meant just for him and... and who he loves." He exhaled shakily, looking away. "Donnie deserves you - and you deserve him. So fight for him if you have too. Tell him everything and don't let him push you away."

Raphael frowned, his brow knitting together as he stared at his brother. Something was off about Leo. He felt his questions swell within him and he parted his lips, but Fearless stood up then, stretching as he looked out at the city.

"We should get back. Well, I mean I'm heading back, if you're going to stay out here, then just be safe." He said and turned, hopping off the ledge to the roof.

"Wait, Leo-" Raph called then winced. What the hell was he doing? He shook his head and sighed, "What's wrong?" It was stupid, asking him. He and Fearless never got along; it was like asking Leo if he wanted to have tea and crumpets with how often they expressed any kind of feelings with the other. But Leonardo was just too off tonight.

Leo turned and smiled sadly, "Maybe later. I should get to bed. But go find him, Raph. Don't wait." He said voice soft and low before he disappeared, hopping across the rooftops agile and swift.

But Raphael's mouth turned down and he felt his belly clench. He knew that look - Donatello had worn it countless times, that same sad expression – especially when Raphael had whispered something to him about how wonderful he was.

It was denial.

It was wisdom overshadowed by despair.

Raphael looked back out at the city as he pushed Leo's behavior to the back burner for now. A new sense of purpose, of stubborn determination rose within him and he stood then, gazing out at the city. Donatello was out there somewhere, hiding and unwilling to talk - but he would find him. He had too. He needed his operator back. He needed his mechanic. He needed his lover. To traverse the world looking for him would be nothing so long as he could tell him one last time he was sorry and that he loved him.

Raph sighed heavily and bobbed his head – he would do it, he'd march up to him, force Donnie to listen to him and with burning conviction he would tell him everything. He'd get on his knees if he had too. "Yeah, but first I have ta find him." He whispered to the wind and to the flickering lights of the city beyond.


Leonardo pushed the sliding door open on dirt coated guides and stepped into the abandoned building before push that rusted heap of metal closed behind him. He gripped the bag on his bag and quietly navigated the building's interior as silently as a ghost. The shadows played against the walls, creating monsters from the broken glass reflecting the light in odd ways from the street lamps a block away. Dirt, trash, rodents and cockroaches scurried, and yet he didn't flinch as he felt the feet of a rat run over his foot.

The light was on. It was a dim hope in the bleakness of rusting support beams and crumbling wood. The cobwebs floated heavy and dangled from the rafters like forgotten dreams – nothing more than wisps of their former years – and Leo opened the door, revealing the quiet warmth within. It was simple, nothing too grand for this hide away from home. A card table and a chair with a wobbly leg, a cot with a few blankets and a sleep stained pillow, and a small TV with a VCR built in. It wasn't good for anything else – not that it had been used anyway. And Donnie sat there on his cot, propped against the wall and curled over his pillow with the blanket hanging from one shoulder precariously.

He hadn't eaten lunch. It was still on the table – the sandwich dried out and hard.

Swallowing, Leonardo quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind him to keep the rats out. "I brought you dinner." He whispered, not daring to look at him as he stepped towards the table and set the goods down as he began to unpack it. He had brought his own dinner along. He had too – he needed to make sure Donnie ate at least once today.

Donatello shrugged slightly and stared at his fingers against the pillow.

It had been a bad day.

Leo frowned. The day after they he had come here to hide, he had returned to find Don acting like his old self. He had practically rewired the entire building and managed to leach what little he needed to run his laptop, the single bulb light in the room and power the TV from a nearby home – and all because he had wanted too; then the day after he had found him in a pile on the floor, nearly comatose for his lack of responsiveness and wet cheeks. The last two weeks had been like that –he never knowing what to expect when he came to see him. Yesterday he had found him working on some schematics for something he didn't understand other than Donatello's excitement over wanting to build it because it would help them in battles. He had ranted for hours it seemed during dinner about his project and had cleaned his plate twice over before he finally managed to admit he was feeling better with a sad smile and tears that he never once let fall – but that didn't stop them from hanging like lingering dew along his eyes.

He knew it was a lie.

"Come on, it'll get cold." Leonardo whispered and laid out the Chinese meal on the table. He pulled a crate over to the table to sit as Donatello eased himself from the cot and shuffled to him, sitting on the old chair only to end up staring at the meal heavily.

Leo broke some chopsticks apart and offered them to Donnie before he did the same for himself. He took a few bites, watching closely as Don took a few small bites from a pot sticker before he could see the tears threatening to come.

He shifted, moving closer to Donnie's side and without looking at him directly, offered him the sweet and sour pork. "Try this." He said without room for argument.

Donnie did as he was told, struggling to eat the large piece of food, but as he chewed the tears he had tried so hard to control slid freely down his cheeks, hot and fast. He was silent as he cried. He didn't want Leo to pay attention to him and Leonardo respected his wishes. So Leo offered him another bite from another of the containers and Donatello ate slowly and without a stitch of noise.

He stared into his lo mein, taking a few bites then offering some to Don again when he didn't see him moving. Don ate it, but his breathing had changed and Leonardo knew without looking it would finally come, that flood he had held back. He knew how Donnie worked, he would cry in private, he would hold it all in, he would try to act as though nothing was wrong and only say he was feeling better when really it was the furthest from the truth. He had seen him cry a few times, but it wasn't the complete retching and freeing of his soul that he knew needed to happen. He had yet to purge what it was inside – and he could feel it bubbling to the surface.

Another bite, another offered morsel. A tasting of chicken in sweet and sour sauce, another offered out to Donnie. They continued in this way, the tension building, the air thickening around them till it crackled, till their bones were ready to shatter from the pressure weighing in on them from all sides.

Then it broke and a choked sound escaped Donatello.

Leonardo was on his feet at once and pulling Donnie against him, his arms tight around him. He curled around him, shutting the world out as he rubbed at his shell, across his shoulders, and up along his neck as he whispered to him with a tightening of his own throat.

"Why?" Don hissed.

Leo closed his eyes to block out everything as he felt those shaking hands grip at his obi. "I had to be honest."

Donatello sobbed and a hiccup escaped his throat.

"Being silent so pain doesn't find you – it doesn't work Don." He whispered.

The strangled cry ripped through his heart and he gripped tighter at Donatello's shoulders and cradled his head against his chest. Every stifled whimper, every muffled sob, chipped at him, begging him to find some way to fix this – but the situation was layered. Not just one answer was enough, not just one event had caused this, and not just one turtle was the reason or Donatello's pain.

He sighed and hugged his brother tight as Don continued to wail, his body shaking, his fingers clawing and soul tearing gasps for air scoured through his already raw lungs. He helped Donnie stand, trying to lead him to his bed, but desperate hands grabbed at him, his eyes red, face dark and pupils sightless as Don reached for him with a twisted expression and he felt his lips fumble against his.

Leonardo kissed him, slow and firm, forcing Donatello to calm before he turned his jerked his face away and pressed his cheek to his as he gasped, calming his pounding heart and fluttering nerves. "He loves you, Don." He ran his hand along his back, holding his brother up as he felt Donnie's knees give out on him suddenly.

Donatello shook his head and hid his face against Leonardo's neck, holding tight to him and refusing to accept his words. But the whimper and sob told him otherwise. Leo continued to press his cheek against his temple, his eyes gazing at the food cooling on the table over Donnie's shoulder, and felt his brother's lips touch his neck. He turned then, settling Donatello on the cot and forcibly pulling away from him, holding Don's shoulders to keep him from falling back against him.

His head bowed, his eyes squeezed shut and tears rained down on clenched fists. Donatello choked and he grabbed for his heart suddenly, pressing his palm flush against his plastron. "I w-was r-r-ready to ex-explode." Words tumbled from his lips, and his free hand grabbed at Leo's wrist to hold him up, "I w-wanted to s-say something. B-b-but…" He shook his head and his face contorted again, this time with shame, but it again shifted to one of agony, "I was scared… you and…" He choked and clung to him, coughing as his emotions made it harder to breathe. "Why?" He called desperately, every shard of his shattered soul piercing that much deeper into his flesh. He shook his head and reached for Leo's face.

Leonardo stared, his brows knitted together, his mouth a thin line and his fingers dug into his skin, holding tight and trying to steady Don as best he could as he felt Donatello's fingers slide across his cheeks and clutch at his face. He didn't pull away. Donnie needed to know he was there with him. "He needs your voice, Donnie."

The last bit of rubble that had clung stubbornly drifted away as the rest of the flood escaped and he bowed forward, hiccupping and crying harder, his fingers sliding down Leo's chest. "M-my fault…" he stated.

Leonardo bowed his head and tried to see Don's as he nearly hid himself against his knees. He touched his cheek, he kissed his brow, but he held his hands, gripping the shaking fingers till they held still and he was able to give him an anchor to this world.

"No… he messed up, Donnie. Don't blame yourself. But Raph knows it and he's sorry. He… he wouldn't blame you for not wanting him." Leonardo felt his heart hang in anticipation of his answer.

The air was heavy as Donatello cried the last of his tears, his face puffy. The light clung to the room, yellowed and dim, painting their skin and illuminating haunted eyes. The room seemed to bathe in the sadness that flowed into it, but all it could do was shelter them from the outside, for no warmth or comfort was coming from its cracked plaster and decaying foundation.

With the last of his tears spent, Donnie sniffled and shivered where he huddled against himself. Leonardo hesitated, concern on his face till he moved closer and wrapped his arms about him, easing Don's brow to his shoulder. Fumbling a bit, Leonardo grabbed at the blanket so he could wrap Donnie's shivering body in it – and that's when his brother spoke.

"Is he with him?"

Leonardo stopped, his hands holding the blank just inches above his shoulders. He felt his heart pound – but he sighed and shook his head, bundling Donatello in the old blanket. "No."

"Does he?" He choked. His tears were used up, the flood was over, other than the occasional wetness dampening his cheeks, it was over. All that was left was to finally accept it.

He was silent, his eyes staring at nothing off to the side. A thread seemed so fascinating all of a sudden, twisting in the air from the tattered edge of the blanket. Calloused hands rubbed against the rough cloth and he pressed his cheek to Donatello's hot brow. "No… he only wants you."

Leo realized he sounded so hoarse, so unsure of his own words.

Sniffling, Donatello curled against him, a momentary gathering of tears collected in his eyes but they hung there as though they were fallen stars fading in the darkness of his eyes. "I don't know what to do." He choked out.

A soft smile touched his lips, but only out of irony. He swallowed his words, taking the time to ponder them before he spoke. "You need to come home."

Donnie was silent, unmoving against him. As the minutes ticked by, Leo momentarily wondered if he had fallen asleep against him out of sheer exhaustion. But the curl of his fingers against his neck warned him before he sighed. "I don't know if I can forgive him yet." He whispered.

Leonardo bobbed his head against his, his hand still rubbing along his shell. "That's okay. But don't walk away, Don. He really loves you. He just… he did something stupid." He explained in a hushed voice, his throat tightened and memories threatened to take over.

"What do you think it meant to him?" Don asked quietly, gripping at his shoulder through the blanket he clutched.

He thought it over, he truly did. He didn't know the exact reason, he couldn't imagine a reason why – but he ran his and Raphael's conversation over and over through his mind till he sighed, "I don't know the reason, I'm sorry. But maybe it was to… to pretend it was you telling him you loved him."

Donnie's face contorted and he felt a warm splash across his thigh were a stray tear fell.

Closing his eyes and blocking out the light, blocking out the trembling of the blanket as Donnie shook, he tried to escape the pain he had created. He knew it wasn't completely his fault, but he couldn't deny that the reason this had happened was because of him. He should have found a gentler way of telling Donatello back then, he should have tried harder to stay with him… or he should have told him that night, years and years ago when Don came to him in the night and told him the first time he loved him, that he felt something more for another.

He just wanted him happy.

"Come home, Donnie." He whispered, kissing his brow, but his brother shook his head under the blanket, clinging to him even as he tried to retreat into himself. Leonardo licked his lips, studying the wall behind him. "Raphael says he loves you. At least come home and talk to him."

The quivering began to lessen till it was nothing more than an occasional shudder. He knew Don wouldn't come home tonight or even tomorrow, but at least he knew someone was waiting.


The worst was far from over, especially for him, and their family would never fully be the same. His insides hurt, his limbs were numb and his mind was empty because it felt too full when he did try and think about it.

He had held him, but even that had felt weak and half-hearted. Michelangelo sat in front of the TV, staring at it and hugging the blanket around his self all the tighter. He only half watched the show, vaguely noting that the heroine had just done something wrong and the hero had shunned her.

It sparked something in him and Mike suddenly felt it all once again. His emotions rushed back into him and filled his pores with their agony. It hurt, it killed him, and it was so debilitating as to suffer a dagger to the heart. He thought for one splendid moment in time that he would be happy with the one he had loved. He had noticed Raphael change, he had noticed the difference almost a year ago and he had come to love it. There was a new softness in Raphael that had never been seen in the past, and it was a good change, it was an amazing change. He had fallen for him before he knew it; and for a fleeting moment he had touched that warmth.

Hands moved over his shoulders and Mikey shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut - then lifting a hand to touch his cheeks, realizing he was crying. He didn't want the owner of the hands to know how upset he was nor how close to sobbing he had suddenly reached upon knowing there was someone close and willing to hold him. But it was terrifying to think the owner of the hands belonged to Raphael. He didn't think he could be as strong as he had been the last time he saw him. He wiped at his cheeks and laughed slightly as he focused on the TV, trying to catch up with the story. "She's so dumb... thinking she could get away with it..." He rasped out on a choked throat.

"She's not dumb. She just didn't see the whole picture."

Michelangelo squeezed his eyes shut again, his hands tightening sharply in the blanket. "No, she is dumb, she knew everything already but she thought she'd try and change it."

"Such attempts are genuinely felt acts of the heart. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But you'd think it'd be better if she had thought logically about everything that she was going to do. Not just jump in without thinking. She's so stupid!" He shouted suddenly, shaking within the confines of his blanket. "I was so stupid..." He choked and hid his face, the tears running hot and heavy down his cheeks.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against the couch and his head leaning against his shoulder. Mikey could only grip at his arms and bow his head. "Why does it have to hurt so much?"

"Nothing that is meant to be so wonderful should be so easily ignored when lost." Leonardo whispered, holding him a bit tighter, a bit more closely and a bit more determinedly.

Choking back a laugh as he wiped at his eyes and pressed his cheek to Leo's arm, Michelangelo smiled ruefully and tried to look at Leo who was still resting upon his shoulder. "Where'd you get that cheesy crap from? A Hallmark card?"

Smiling and rubbing Mikey's arm lightly, Leo made a slight shrugging motion that jostled them both. "Or something like that."

They were both silent for a long time - eventually though a crick evolved in Leo's back and he just couldn't stand it anymore, so he slowly unwound himself from Mike, his hands running up his arms and to his shoulders as he stood. As his fingers slipped away, Michelangelo turned sharply, grabbing at his hand and holding tight to him.

Looking away and scrubbing at his eyes even as he turned around to kneel on the couch, Mikey reached for him, shaking. "Can you just sit with me for awhile?" he whispered, begging for him to understand, to comfort him, to let him take selfish delight in holding onto someone.

Nodding and squeezing his hand, Leo carefully shifted his weight from one leg to the other and then stepped over the back of the couch and onto the cushions, sinking down into them and next to Mike just as smoothly as he did with everything else in his life.

He latched himself to his side and held him tight. Michelangelo closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, taking in the gentle warmth his brother was giving him, wrapping around him, holding him close. Leonardo returned everything that Mikey offered to him, he hugged him and stroked fingers across skin, running palm palms across his flesh like burning brands that melted ice and sadness – and just like that Michelangelo realized Leonardo was scared that he would just slip through his fingers. Like he was something precious.

Michelangelo listened to his heartbeat. It was so wild and scattered, so scared sounding even though the hands holding him were calm. He inhaled deeply with a tremor and he felt Leo look down toward him and sadness subsided - it didn't disappear, but it simply felt less. He was safe here, at least for a moment.

"You're warm." He whispered, snuggling deeper within the blanket and against him.

Pulling his eyes away from Mikey's exposed face to look away only to find himself looking back to him and gazing down at him with a fluttering in his belly and a swelling of his heart, Leonardo lifted a hand and brushed a stray tear from his cheek and allowed his skin to linger upon his for several moments. "I love you."

His face twisted up and he gripped at Leonardo, unwilling to move even though it hurt to hear it and yet was so good to hear all at once. He shook his head then nodded it, so confused and empty. He had been so heartless – he had used those same words on Raphael, manipulating the situation to suit his needs. He hadn't realized just how powerful those words were. They swelled inside a person, filling every black hole and cracked surface in a healing warmth – and he had used that on Raph in his most painful moment because he knew those were the words Raphael needed to hear the most. Just not from him.

"Again..." he whispered.

"I love you..." Leo quavered, his fingers pushing away the blanket from his face so he could stare at him better, his fingers brushing over the knot of distress and sadness on Mikey's face, wishing to rub it away and help his features return to one of happiness and sweetness. "I truly love you."

Michelangelo choked and he shook his head. "Me?"

Leonardo only nodded and those rich honeyed eyes warmed and stared only at him, "For a very, very long time." he whispered.

It hurt, it scared him but he hugged him close anyway. Confusion, heartache and distress aside - it was so wonderful to hear. He clung to the words and he clung to his brother and he cried... just a little longer, that was all he needed. He just needed this a little bit longer.


Author's Note:

After posting this, I've decided there is something wrong with me because I emotionally stunt, cripple, or yank around every character I come into contact with D: I'm a horrible author-mama!

OH Well... anyway, I know this one was slow; and the Raphael portion I'm not so sure about anymore... but I love the Donnie one. I know I already established like 10 times how much this is killing him; but it drives home to me that he bottles everything up inside and that he'd rather hide his personal feelings and pretend to be normal than to ruin anyone else's day. He doesn't want people to worry about him and in that sense, he refuses to be emotional like how Mikey wears his emotions on his sleeve. So having him break apart to the one person who hurt him just as bad years ago was my way of giving a nod to the fact that Donnie loves Raph so much... he's willing to tell his ex.

HARSH D: poor Leo!

~Melissa the Damgel