Chapter Three: The Night Prior
Splinter emerged and came to stand in the middle of the common room. Donatello followed him, looking less than confident. His gaze darted from one brother to the next with trepidation.
"I'm saving, I'm saving…!" Michelangelo piped up, the first to react as he punched furiously at his hand-held game.
Leonardo unfolded his legs slowly, as they had grown quite stiff in the interim. Reaching backwards, he snagged a pillow off the couch and threw it at Raphael, who had his head lolled back and was fast asleep. Raph woke with a startled snort and blinked blearily, looking around. "Bout freakin' time," he mumbled, and almost as an afterthought threw the pillow in his lap back at Leo. Then he readjusted his red mask and hauled himself to his feet with a groan.
Soon all the brothers were standing expectantly before Master Splinter. All, that is, except for Donatello, who was practically cowering at his sensei's side and looking like he wanted to melt into the floor.
"Donatello is in charge until further notice," Splinter intoned, surveying his boys' faces. "Please show him every respect you would show to me. That is all."
A stunned silence descended over the room.
It was Michelangelo who finally broke it. "Duuuude, sick burn!" he laughed, looking at Leonardo, whose mouth was hanging open.
Raphael grunted, possibly an attempt to cover his own laughter. "What, again?" He whirled on Leo and eyed him. "You goin' somewhere?"
Dazedly, Leonardo gave a slow shake of his head.
Donatello darted to take the old rat's robe as he turned to depart. "Master Splinter, wait! I – I'm not ready!"
"Of course you are ready," Splinter assured him, looking back and reaching to give Donatello's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Teach them what they need to know. Discuss all your concerns for them, as you spoke them to me."
"I'm not prepared!" Don insisted, his eyes now pleading. "Please, Master Splinter. If I am to do this… thing for you, I – I have to have to make notes, some kind of outline. I have to have my facts in order! If I'm to do it with anything like confidence, then – I MUST be prepared. That's just who I am, sensei."
The rat eyed his second eldest with a considering gaze, and finally grunted assent. "Very well. But I warn you not to keep them waiting too long, my son. Already they have grown impatient."
"Yes, Master Splinter." Donatello swallowed hard and turned back to his brothers. The expressions they wore couldn't have been more varied.
Mikey seemed both eager and highly amused, grinning ear to ear. "Orders, cap'n?" he snickered.
Raphael said nothing, but the droll look on his face conveyed his thoughts plainly without words: What a waste of time.
Leonardo's features were nearly blank, but there was something brooding and almost dangerous in the look he turned on Donatello now.
"You're all dismissed!" Don chirped. "I, uh – I have to go!" He practically bolted for his room, and hastily locked the door behind him.
"Jeezus effin' Christ," Raphael mumbled. "Here we go again."
"Sensei!" Leonardo appealed to Splinter. The rat was already moving back towards his own pocket of the lair, but paused to look over his shoulder now. "Then - what am I to do?"
"See that your brothers mind him well?" Splinter suggested. "And now... I must sleep." Ignoring the way this answer seemed to deflate his proud eldest, he turned and was gone.
Leonardo's initial attempts to mediate on the predicament were met with such swift failure that he didn't bother trying for very long. He went to the dojo but found it occupied by Raphael, still awake and half-heartedly practicing his turn-kicks.
He could have pointed out that Raph wasn't tucking his arm in close enough, but bit back the correction. Leaning against a pillar, he watched another few attempts before calling out, "Wanna spar?"
"Sure," Raph grunted, getting off one last kick before turning to Leo. "But just so ya know, I'll be leavin' soon."
"Casey? You still have enough time to bother going out?"
"Sure! Still two and a half hours til' last call," Raphael pointed out with a note of challenge in his voice. "Figured we could skip the runnin' around and go straight to the heavy drinking."
"Til Casey gets here, then," Leo agreed, moving into ready stance.
"Ha!" Raph grinned as they faced off. "I think I like this minds-his-own-damned-business version of Leo."
Swords and sai were drawn, and the two flew into practice. When Leo had Raph on the ground with a katana pressing against his neck for the second time within the space of ten minutes, he demanded hotly, "You going easy on me?"
Raphael merely widened his eyes, impressed. "I wish."
Leo extended a grudging hand to help his brother up, and they began again. This time it went back and forth between them for some time, with Raph pressing harder for victory, spurred by Leo's accusation. Leonardo's swords went flying as he was disarmed, and landed with a clatter.
But just as Raph was closing in for his well-earned victory, Michelangelo called down to them, "RAAAAPH! Casey's here!" Raphael winced instinctively, distracted. If Leo had been in charge, that would have summoned him. Instead it earned him a swift kick to the chest that sent him flying backwards, and the next thing he knew Leo's foot was poised gently over his trachea.
"Three of three," Leo announced with a smirk. "But if you wanna blame Mikey for that one, I understand."
Raphael grinned up at him, "Fair 'nuff." He extended his hand and was helped up a third time. Then Leonardo went to retrieve his katana. As Raph was headed for the door, he paused and regarded Leo over his shoulder for a moment. Then he took a rather bold chance, venturing somewhat skeptically, "I don't suppose… you might wanna come with?"
Leonardo said nothing. But Raphael blinked in amazement as he saw his brother was actually thinking about it.
"Come on… it'll be great!" He encouraged, slapping Leo on the shoulder and grinning wolfishly. "What, you afraid Donnie's gonna bust yer balls?"
"That," Leonardo noted wryly, "is a very good point. Let's go."
Michelangelo was bored.
At first he actually tried to sleep, but it would not come. Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't deny the lump of hurt that he'd been trying to shrug off for the past hour. Raphael had taken Leonardo out drinking and hadn't even thought to invite him! Raph could be so over-protective sometimes, but this really took the cake. Life in general might be so much easier on him if he could just stop looking up to Raph so much...
Hauling himself out of bed with a sigh, he made an attempt at channel surfing but nothing on TV remotely held his interest. He wandered into the kitchen and made himself a midnight snack. Somewhere in the process of making himself something, his ingredients started to double and before he knew it he was making not just some munchies for himself but a peace offering to Don.
"Hey Don? Can I come in?" he called through the closed metal door. "Are you working?"
"I – um. Yeah. I mean no, I called off. But yes I'm still working on something."
"Then – can I come in anyway? Maybe I can help! Also, I made you some chips and guacamole. Two bowls, made fresh: mild for you, extra spicy for me."
The door opened a crack and a nervous-looking Don peeked out. "Yeah... okay. I should probably eat something. But I don't think this is anything you can help me with."
Michelangelo's face closed. "Right. Cause I'm just not on your level of supreme genius, yeah?" He snagged one of the bowls of green dip off the tray and shoved the remainder towards Don roughly.
"No, Mikey! That's not it at all!" He took the tray, coming further out of his room.
"Y'know Don, why is it that every time YOU take charge, I'm the one who winds up bored and fucking lonely?"
Donatello's face pinched with regret. "Oh Mikey, I'm sorry." He looked down at the carefully arranged tray of chips. A little pile of napkins… There was even a wedge of lime stuck to the side of either bowl. "Well, I'm nearly done. And, please don't ask me to explain any of it until tomorrow's lesson, but…"
Mike was already grinning ear to ear, having sensed he'd won. He pushed past Donatello and started to clear a space on the desk so they would have room to set the chips and guac down. Partway through this task his eyes went wide at one of the completed visual aids. "Hey, she's naked!"
"Yes, Mikey. Don't touch." Donatello looked his little brother over with a sigh. "Now, can I trust you with a glue gun?"
"Come on Leo," Raphael grunted. "Stay with me, now. It's jussa' lil' further. I need you to walk f'me. I am way too fucked up to carry your ass alla'way back to the lair."
"Nnf," Leonardo grunted noncommittally.
"I mean it, Leo. Hey. Tell me summore' bout Costa Rica…"
"Costa Rica…"
"Yeah. Tell me 'bout it."
"Trees'd make… like, a ceiling. So thick there'd be no sun. And below… all leafy green darkness. Can blend… Y'so invisible there…"
"Yeah? Maybe we'll go some day. And you can run stealth practices."
"And the villages. They called me Ghost. And the girls, sometimes… The native ones. Black, black skin, and they hardly wore anything. Maybe… hand fulla' nuts and bones on strings…"
"Wha-aaat?" Raphael laughed, giving his brother a little heft to readjust him to a more comfortable spot against his shoulder.
"So they'd jingle," he nodded, "and clatter. Wherever they walk."
"Huh," muttered Raph, lapsing into silence as he tried to picture it.
They walked on for a time, but then Raphael felt that his brother was starting to drag and slump. "Leo? Ya with me bro?" Again he had to rouse him.
"Yzz," Leo mumbled, head lolling.
Raph reached out and forced Leonardo's gaze, checking his condition. Leo blushed after a moment and they both looked away. Raphael suddenly demanded, propelling them both forward, "Gotta stay awake, damnit. Tell me summore' bout Costa Rica!"
"Wull," Leo cocked his head to peek up at his brother almost slyly now. "In the jungle, there's bugs. Lotta bugs."
Raphael made a face.
"Big'zz yer head," he added pleasantly, glad to have gotten a visible reaction.
"Can't imagine what you saw in that place," Raph grumbled. "Ain't got nothin' on good ole' New York."
"Y'really wanna know…?"
There was a sad, distant note in Leo's voice that caused Raphael to pause and glance down at his brother. "Yeah, I do."
Leonardo dropped his eyes. "Was… so free."
In the privacy of the sewer tunnels just outside the lair, Leonardo knelt and was repeatedly, violently ill for fifteen minutes that felt like fifteen hours. Raphael stayed with him, holding back the tails of his bandana and mumbling reassurances.
"Don't feel bad, Leo. Yer a champ. Shoulda seen how bad it was for me, my first time… Taco Bell beforehand probably wasn't such a good idea, huh?"
"Grk—"
"Yeah... I'm sorry Leo. You know I'm sorry, don't you?"
"S'not… you," Leonardo gasped. "Din' push me. I – I pushed myself."
It was true. If anything, Raphael had been hinting near the end that he ought to slow down. Still, now he was looking at his brother with unabashed guilt. "Yer gonna hate me in the morning," he noted glumly.
"No…" Leo grimaced and spat over the edge. Having given up the contents of his churning stomach, his head felt a little clearer. He scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand and assured his brother in a soft, shaky voice, "Not gonna hate you. Tomorrow… ever." He coughed and spat again into the dark, murky water below. "If anything. I wish… it could be like this between us. More often."
"Yeah," Raphael looked at him for a moment before averting his gaze. Somewhat gruffly, to cover his emotion, he agreed, "Yeah, bro. Me too."