Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, my friends. Spring Break made it virtually impossible to get to a computer, and I was working on Pulse, as well.
Sooo… now we're here! Read on and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Despite many letters to Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman, asking them to let me join in on the co-ownership of the TMNT, I have seen no response declaring me as such.
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A little dazed, Leo ran in darkened alleys above his home in the sewers, not fully understanding what he was doing, just that he needed to get away. The chill in the air was seeping into his skin; his feet were growing numb. He hadn't even remembered to bring a jacket.
Breathing heavily, he stopped himself just before running into a wall. Hands pressed firmly against it, he bowed his head and tried to catch his breath. Shaking, Leo lowered himself to the ground, trying to sort things out.
Logan. His breathing started to slow to normal. That's why… he thought, remembering the teenager and their latest discussion of recent.
Coughing, he wrapped his arms around his chest, rubbing them to bring in warmth. Why couldn't he just be left alone? Why couldn't he just live a normal life?
Ebony filled his vision. The blue-clad turtle shuddered, knowing what this meant. Logan sat down beside him, grinning morbidly.
Besides this look on his face, he did not look happy. "Since when is a talking, mutated turtle considered normal?"
Glaring at him, Leo refused to answer.
"You've made yourself a hypocrite, ya know?" when Leo's stare turned into one of confusion, Logan went on. "That night, nine months ago, when Raph caught you slicing open your arm, you were thinking of the difference between spiritual and physical suicide." He paused, brown orbs digging into him in the way that only his could. "You said the latter was an act of cowardice."
Leo looked away. He recalled this thought; remembered telling Raph he could never bring himself to take his own life, for the fear of what would become of his brothers once he was gone.
The boy continued. "You and the real Logan, you both committed that spiritual suicide. Only in your case, your family has slowly been able to bring you back to life, but now you're hanging by a thread between those two extremes." He leaned forward. "I can help you. I can help you back all the way, but if you make the same mistake that Logan made by taking the path of physical death, there's no way you'll survive. No turning back."
Slightly warming up to these words, Leo nevertheless felt himself clinging to his original thoughts, fearing what this healing may have in store for him. He shook his head. "I can't…" he whispered.
Logan remained silent, watching him. Finally he sighed. "There's still time. I'll let you think about it." He said softly, standing up. "Don't fear the darkness, Leo. If you were to turn the light on all at once, you wouldn't be able to see a thing."
Trying to make sense of the metaphor, he sniffed and curled up in a ball as Logan left him and the memory began to play out again.
&&&&&
Stirred gently out of his sleep, the four-year-old child turned over and opened his eyes to see his father standing over him.
The young man smiled. "Hey, kiddo." He whispered. "Time to wake up. You're goin' with dad to work today remember?"
Yawning, the boy nodded, holding his arms out to be held. His father obliged, lifting him up into his arms and taking him to the kitchen, where he sat him down on a chair, cursing as he returned to the room to retrieve his son's forgotten clothes.
A woman was at the stove, her hair a golden halo around her head. She turned and smiled warmly at him. "Hey, baby. Eggs?"
Nodding, he watched as she fixed a plate for him, patting her growing belly as she walked over to him.
Setting the plate down, she tousled his thick, brown hair. Though the child had gotten her honey-colored eyes and spread of freckles across his nose, it was easy to tell he was the spawn of his father.
"You excited?" she asked him, going back to the stove.
"Uh-huh." He said enthusiastically. "I gets to goes with daddy to work! We're gonna have big fun!"
Smiling at her little boy's joy, she went back to making breakfast, rubbing her stomach once more. Baby number three would be here soon…
Taking a big drink of milk, her oldest set his cup back down. "Where's Johnny?"
"He's sleeping in his playpen, sweetheart. It's still pretty early." She paused, hearing her husband's cell phone ring. Even at six in the morning, that wasn't unusual. Annoying, but not unusual.
Apparently having accepted the explanation, the small boy got off of his chair and trailed into the living room, socks drooping off his feet and stumbling him. He paused by his little brother's playpen, standing on his tiptoes to look over the edge, watching him sleep peacefully. "Hi, Johnny." He whispered, trying not to wake him. "I has to go with daddy today, so you gots to be a good by for mama."
Having gone after him, in hopes of telling him to go back to his breakfast, which he, like so many toddlers, would leave unfinished only to eat a whole bunch of junk food later, she paused, watching him speak. He was very protective over his little brother, watching out for him always and doing everything to make sure he was all right.
Her joy was soon disturbed, however, by the muffled curses that were coming from his rooms. Sighing exasperatedly, the pregnant woman left her post to see what was wrong.
The little boy watched her leave before turning back to his two-year-old brother. He was hungry, but he wanted to make sure that his sibling was okay first. When the baby whimpered, the eldest crouched down, wriggling his hands through the holes of the playpen to reach the blanket and pull it over him.
In the distance, he could hear his parents. Mommy sounded concerned. "Who was that, baby?"
Daddy didn't sound happy. "Henry. An important shipment hasn't come in yet, and our boss called a meeting over the Thompson Job. Apparently, someone wasn't very happy with our work."
"Oh. I'm sorry, baby. I know you worked hard on that."
A snort. "Yeah. A lot of good that did." He could hear him growl as footsteps started to come closer; they were in the kitchen now. "I have to go."
Now mama didn't sound happy. "And? What about your son?"
"Janet, I can't take him with me today, all right? We didn't have much to do today, so I thought he could come along, but I can't have him running around the office with all the work that needs to be done."
The four-year-old frowned, looking back at his sleeping brother. Looks like he'd be staying home, after all.
"Hey," He heard his mother yell, "you're not doing this to him again. You missed his play at the preschool last month, and practically every bit of his life this past year. He's been looking forward to this all week-"
"Babe, he's gonna get in the way; he won't have any fun-"
"You really don't know him, do you?" There was silence for a moment. "Your son isn't like most kids, baby. He listens; he's good. Heck, he'll just be happy if you look at him!"
"Janet," daddy began, voice sounding funny; "I told you, I-"
"I don't care." The woman snapped. "You are taking him today. He deserves a little attention from you; this is a very critical age for him. You have another son too, Scott, and a baby on the way. Are you just going to ignore them for their entire lives?"
From there on out, the little one couldn't here what his parents had to say. He heard some 'I'm sorry's from his father, but then a door shut, which meant mommy and daddy were having a 'talk' in their room.
The noise woke baby Johnny up. He started to cry. Putting his hand back through the holes in the playpen, the child stroked his cheek. Little Johnny looked up at him. "Brubba?" he said.
His brother nodded. "It's okays, Johnny. Go backs to sleep."
Eventually, once the two-year-old eased back into slumber, the child walked over to the table, where his clothes were sitting. With small difficulty, he got out of his pajamas and dressed himself, saving his mother the trouble. Her tummy was big now, so she couldn't always reach down to dress him anymore.
He was surprised to see his daddy in the kitchen all of a sudden, his mom coming in as well. Looking at him surprised, the man asked, "Who got you dressed?"
His wife answered for him. "He dresses himself now, dear. I told you that two months ago." She explained, walking back to the stove and stirring the eggs around.
Looking rather embarrassed, daddy walked over to him. "Oh… well." He smiled. "All right, then. C'mon, kiddo. Let's get your shoes on. We gotta go."
"I gets to go with you?"
The smile disappeared. "Yeah. Hey, did you hear mommy and me just now." When he nodded, his father looked sad. "I'm sorry, little guy. But don't worry about it, okay? Everything's all right." When his son didn't answer, he headed for the living room. "Now, where's those shoes?"
Once they were ready to go, the boy found himself by the door, hugging his mother goodbye. "Now you be a good boy, okay, baby?" She asked.
"I will, mama." He said softly. "Tell Johnny to be goods, too. I'll play with him when I gets home."
Patting his head, she stood back up, groaning slightly. "See ya later, baby. Have a good day at work." She said, talking to her husband now. Mommy liked to call everyone baby, even if they were big. He didn't always understand why.
"Will do." The man said, pecking her on the lips. "Now let's scoot, kiddo."
A while after that, following a trip in the car, the boy walked hand in hand with his father down a big sidewalk; not as many people were out today as there were the day he'd taken him and mommy to lunch. Soon, they came to a magazine stand. Another man that the child recognized stood there, grinning. However, it grew smaller as he saw him.
"Hey there, buddy." The second man said, hugging him, before looking at his father. "What's he doing here?"
"I promised Janet I'd take him to work with me today."
"Man, we can't-"
"I know." Daddy cut him off. "But don't worry. He'll be a good boy. Now what's the deal with…"
From there on out, the little boy couldn't really understand what they were talking about. His attention was drawn to the magazines though, with their brightly colored covers. Soon, he was walking down the magazine stand, admiring each picture, though he couldn't quite understand all of them.
As he turned the corner and finished the collection, his eyes were drawn to a dark alley. Halfway into it, against the wall, sat a funny looking animal. He was big. Trying to think of what it was, he realized it was a turtle. And it was wearing something blue around his head.
"Wow…" he whispered, walking into the alley. He'd never seen such a big turtle. Maybe he could keep him…
Once he got near, though, he realized something was wrong. The turtle looked very, very sad, just looking straight ahead. Working up enough courage, the boy lightly touched his skin.
It felt funny. It was kind of scratchy, and very cold. When he poked him again, however, the turtle turned his head and looked at him. First he saw it looked confused… then scared. "Oh, crap." It whispered. The turtle sounded like a boy.
"Hi." He said. "I didn't knows turtles could talk." The giant turtle looked right at him then, freezing. Frowning, the little boy cocked his head. "What's wrong?"
The turtle gulped, eyes never leaving him. "What… what's your name?"
Smiling once more, the boy told him. "I'm Logan. Who are you?"
If it was possible, the turtle looked even more frightened. Finally, he gulped. "I'm…" he started breathing funny. "My name's Leo."
"Logan," Leo began, getting to his knees, "what… what're you doing out here by yourself?" he asked, rising to his feet.
"I'm going to work with my daddy today." Logan told him, staring up. He was really big. "See, I'll show you." He said, taking the turtle's hand. He was surprised to find only three fingers.
Leo didn't seem to want to move, but he went; though he refused to go any farther than the corner of the magazine stand. Once he was there, Logan pointed out his father, who was still talking. "That's my daddy. And that's," he pointed to the other man; "my uncle Henry."
Now the turtle looked even more scared. Slowly he made his way back into the alley. Logan followed. "You okays?"
Shaking his head, Leo sat back down. "Logan?" he asked. "Do you… do you know what you're daddy's name is?"
The little boy frowned. "Um…"
Leo changed his question. "Do you know if it's Scott?"
"Oh!" Logan exclaimed, nodding. "Yeah! Uncle Henry and Grandpa call him that all the times!" When the turtle didn't look too happy about this, he came closer. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Leo mumbled, shaking his head.
Logan frowned again. "But you looks like my little brother, Johnny, when he gets scared. I try to tell him that there's no monsters in our closets, but he's still only two. Sometimes, he has to come sleep withs me at bedtime, or he'll cry really loud-"
He was cut off in his rambling. "You have a brother?"
Nodding, Logan now remained silent. Leo was looking at him strangely now. "You're just-" Suddenly, his eyes widened. "No…" He mumbled to himself.
A little worried, Logan came closer and touched his shoulder. Leo flinched, looking back up at him. Before Logan could say anything, the turtle grabbed him gently by the shoulders. "Logan, I'm gonna tell you something very important now, and you have to listen to me."
"Okay…" Logan said, getting a little frightened himself now.
"First," Leo said, "you have to promise me to try and, well… have fun. Be as happy as you can possibly be."
Nodding again, Logan whispered, "I will."
Leo went on. "But most importantly-"
Before he could go on, a shout reached their ears, fearful in nature. "Logan? Logan! Where are you?" He recognized it as his daddy's. Soon, Uncle Henry's cries joined his, but he couldn't answer.
Swallowing, Leo looked back at him. "But most importantly," he said softly, releasing him; "never talk to strangers."
"Logan!" the shout came again. The little boy turned to look out of the alley; his father was just now coming around the corner.
When he turned back around, the turtle was gone.
&&&&&
From the top of a snow-covered roof, body shivering from both the thought of the last few moments as well as the cold he'd been in for so long, Leo watched the scene unfold in the alley.
This child, though he doubted he could successfully kill a fly, had made Leo's blood run colder with fear than ever before, not even the times when he'd nearly died at an enemy's hands.
And for a cold-blooded reptile outside in twenty-degree weather, that was saying something.
The second he'd left the alley, the two men had shown up, looking for the small boy. Luckily, Leo had been able to move quickly enough to escape attention.
One man, the one he presumed to be little Logan's father, rushed in and swept him swiftly up into his arms, surprising his son more with his tears than his suddenness. Holding him tightly, he went through thanking God he was alive, to scolding him for running off, to apologizing for not paying attention and yelling- all in one breath.
According to the child, this guy's name was Scott, and the other man, looking equally relieved, was his uncle, Henry. The two looked to be about the same age.
Logan, the first one, that was, had had brothers. Twin brothers. Leo had read about them in that news article that Don had discovered, featuring Logan's death.
Their names were Scott and Henry.
It might just be a coincidence… Leo tried to tell himself. He'd already met Logan's father just a matter of hours ago, he wasn't comfortable with running into the whole family, even if they were the nicest people in the world.
But it wasn't Logan's brothers that worried him the most. It was this boy, this little boy; possibly the nephew of the Logan he'd met ten years ago.
This child was the spitting image of him. Granted, his eyes were lighter, and his face bore freckles, and he was at least a decade younger than he'd been when he died…
Still, he looked so much like him… and it didn't help that the two shared names, the younger most likely being named after his deceased uncle, if they were related.
And it only got worse. From what he'd seen of this Logan, even at such a tender age, he was a lot like the previous one.
He was a lot like him.
That thought had made Leo's heart shudder; had depressed it further and scared him at the same time. The though that this kid might go through the heartache and sorrow he'd put himself through; that he might end up like him.
He'd almost told him that, too, on a whim, without thinking. But then he'd remembered his own experience, how he'd heard that exact same line once.
And how it had changed his life. Ruined his life.
How could he do that to someone else?
Now, the group below him started out of the alley. Leo focused his attention on them. Still held tight in his father's arms, Logan spoke. He must've been asked what he'd been doing out here, for he sounded like he was explaining himself. "But daddy, there was a giant turtle, 'n he was really sad, 'n-"
The man this Logan had named as Henry, further ahead, turned around to speak to him. "Kiddo, you can't-"
His brother cut him off, shaking his head to silence him. "But we should've been watching him. He's only four, for the love of God." If possible, he held his son tighter. "We can't lose another Logan."
Leo turned around and sat down slowly, the snow parting and compressing for him as he came in contact with it. Drawing his knees up to his plastron, he wrapped his arms around them, trying to keep warm.
That had answered his anxious thoughts. With that little statement, the evidence he'd been overlooking shone brightly upon the situation, making him realize the suspicion he'd tried to dismiss as coincidence was truth.
That child, so much like him and a Logan Leo had once knew, was really the nephew of him- the boy who'd killed himself right before his eyes, who'd put him through all of this.
Or was it really me? Leo wondered. The Logan in his head, an enemy and odd consoler of his own mind, had him so confused, he wasn't sure at the moment.
Teeth chattering for a moment, Leo rose to his feet and walked to the opposite edge of the building, planning to get out of this freezer and head home while thinking of what Logan had said to him before his miniature had shown up.
Before he had, while he watched the scene of the first Logan's death play out for the millionth time, Leo had seriously been debating the matter of death, escape and sweet freedom, and a possibly painful road to recovery, life and a joyous existence.
And then he'd stopped himself possibly hurting that small child before him, allowing him to have a chance to live it out on his own while still giving him advice.
There, he'd proved that he truly wasn't exactly like the human Logan, dead and buried. He didn't have to follow the path that he'd set out for him with his death.
Darkness claimed his vision while he remained aware of it and its presence, though Leo this time found himself unafraid of what it implied, instead being filled with a steady calm and twinge of curious anticipation.
Logan stood in front of him. "Well, he sure came at the right time, huh?"
Leo nodded in response. "Was that how you felt? After you told me those things?"
"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not him." Logan said softly. "Though I do suppose, if you're talking about regret, remorse, and melancholy, then I suppose so. But, if it's even in there, I think you'd have to read that letter of his to find out."
Leo groaned quietly. With all this sudden chaos, he'd almost forgotten those dreaded letters.
Logan went on. "At least now you're finally speaking to me from the right place."
"What?"
Smirking slightly, Logan answered him. "For the longest time, you've only been talking from your head, explaining your fear and reasons to deny my help, even though you remained focused on the feelings of your heart. Your more open to emotions there- your pain, as well as others; your needs and everyone else's."
Nodding once more, understanding dawning on him, Leo watched Logan. "So, what is it that we're supposed to do?"
"You actually just did a major portion of it just now, by realizing that death is rarely ever the last available option, and by finally separating yourself from Logan. Lucky you, huh?" When Leo didn't answer, just accepted what had to be said while silently dreading what was to come next, Logan continued. "All that's left is forgiveness. First, you forgive Logan for what happened ten years ago. Then you can forgive yourself."
"For what?" Leo questioned.
"For avoiding the truth. For hiding yourself. For lies. For putting yourself, and at times, your family, through so much pain. For living a life absent of life." Logan looked at him calmly. "You know you've been hating yourself for those very things."
Bowing his head, Leo knew those words to be correct. "Those are hard things to do." In fact, the blue-banded turtle wasn't sure which one would be the hardest.
Logan shrugged. "But once you do, you can accept your own brothers' forgiveness. They're constantly telling you you're not a burden, and that they'll help you further if you let them, but you're never sure because you think you're unworthy of such an extent of care; that these sins they've pardoned are unforgivable."
As he said those things, Leo realized they were true. He'd never been able to recover completely because he hadn't been able to tell his brothers everything, because he didn't believe they'd forgive him for doing this to himself, by letting it go on and escalate to such a point.
"So how am I gonna do that?" Leo asked.
Popping his neck, Logan came closer. "It might take a while, depending on what you do, once we're done here, you need to read those letters."
"I thought you were going to say that."
The boy shrugged. "So let's begin." Soot faded to the familiar scene on the catwalk. This point of view appeared to be like that of a person watching this as a movie. Logan sat down, gesturing for Leo to do the same. Though the turtle felt uncomfortable, he did as he was told.
The memory picked up again. Leo wanted to look away, as he usually tried to do, though he had it memorized by heart, but the Logan beside him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Watch." He requested of him.
Nodding sullenly, Leo did so, Logan whispering things to him as it went on. "Why do you think he questioned you about your hobbies? What was happening in your life?"
Thinking about it, Leo kept his eyes on what was happening before him again. He had asked a little himself of the small Logan a while ago. "I think he wanted to know my background, if it was anything like his." He paused. "If I might end up like him."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan nod. They were silent, up until the point where the long-gone Logan started confirming that very thought. "Think of how you felt when you saw his nephew, the sorrow at the thought of him ending up either like him or yourself. You asked me if he might've felt like this. What do you think?"
Leo watched the memory of Logan speak to the memory of himself, how slow and depressed it seemed to be when talking about that subject. "Maybe…" Leo mumbled. He nodded, "I think so."
Eventually, they reached the part where Leo had learned of the rat poison. He sniffed, fearing reliving this again, especially since it was taking on a whole new meaning now, yet wanting to finally make sense of it.
He'd tried to save him. Or, at least, tried to talk him out of killing himself. As a child, Leo had been extremely concerned. He sniffed. "The other Logan," he said quietly, "he said I looked sad and scared. He kept asking if something was wrong, if I was okay."
Logan smiled, patting his shell. "Sounds like you're looking at things from the other side of the story, huh?"
Now Logan spoke to him about the things like family and pain, the things that had scared Leo deeply the most.
The things he too had almost said to a little child.
Oh, yes. He was on the other side of the fence now. But not only was the grass not as green, though he hadn't expected it to be, it wasn't mowed, nor taken care of in any way whatsoever. It was much more horrible than he'd expected it.
Yet… he was beginning to understand how, despite tried to manage it; it had come to be that way.
Shaking at the image of the blood started up; Leo still refused to look away. There was the part about trying to save the world and doing something for himself.
Logan leaned forward, watching as well. "You said the same thing. Kinda in different words, but basically the same thing. He wanted you to live somewhat better than he did, and you wanted his nephew to not just do that, but live happily. Neither of you wanted this life for the person who seemed to be 'just like you'."
Hearing these words, Leo nodded.
And then, Logan died. Even when the view faded to darkness, Leo couldn't move. Then his Logan, still sitting, appeared before him. No smile, no anger. Just there… a part of him. "Though you're really different, you were a lot alike, in some senses, like that. Can you see why he did that?"
Nodding, Leo still didn't move. "Yeah." He was able to get out.
Logan didn't say another thing for a long while, and the ninja knew why. He'd forgiven the dead Logan. Despite all the hatred and anger he'd felt about him, he'd forgiven him.
Releasing all of that pain so quickly hurt a little. Logan, probably realizing this, spoke again. "Give it some time. You'll feel better."
Leo breathed out. It did feel a little better. Just a little, but that much still felt good. Looking at Logan, he saw him smile, though not in a morbid or sarcastic way. "See?" Then the look turned to a frown.
In a flash, he was back on the rooftop.
&&&&&
Wrapping the coat tighter around his body, Mikey moved as quickly as he could in the cold, looking for his brother.
His Shell Cell rang. Grabbing it, he answered. Raph was on the other line. No greeting. "Ya found him?" The red-clad turtle asked, the smallest trace of anxiety in his words.
"No." Mike said sadly, not bothering to ask his brother the same question. Why else would he be calling? "You call Donny yet?" He questioned, hopeful.
Raph took a moment before responding. "Yeah… he hasn't either."
Neither one of them voiced the ultimate concern on their minds. If they didn't find Leo soon, he could freeze to death. He'd already been out here for too long.
"Call me if you find him." Raph said. "And be careful out there."
"Same for you, bro." Mike told him. They hung up.
Closing his eyes for a second, Mikey sighed. C'mon, Leo. You gotta be okay.
So many times, he's come dangerously close to losing a brother, Leo especially in the past year.
That thought was unbearable.
He searched for another ten minutes, looking above and below, no nook or cranny escaping his attention, devoting himself to the search for his brother.
And then, as he was rubbing his hands together to keep them warm, looking at the other rooftops, he thought he saw him, in the distance. He was mostly covered by other buildings, so he wasn't entirely sure, but Mikey couldn't think of anyone at the moment who would be on a roof and wearing a green suit.
Practically flying towards that spot, Mikey suddenly stopped. The place where he could've sworn Leo had stood just a few minutes ago was now vacant.
But there were footprints in the snow on that very building, including the spot where he'd been in particular.
And they had two toes.
&&&&&
Though he'd been out of sight by most people, practically all of them in the city of New York, whose inhabitants were known for not looking up, as Leo found himself back in the real world, he realized why Logan had not looked to happy when he'd left.
From the look of the sky, at least an hour has past. And though, while he was catatonic, Leo could stand as still as a statue, unmoved by most things Mother Nature threw at him, the minute he was back, he was merely mortal once more.
Groaning slightly, Leo's chin slowly came down to his chest, partly out of his moving it and partly out of his sudden fatigue. He looked at his feet, which now had a tint of blue and purple to them.
He couldn't feel them, nor could he feel his calves. It was the same story for everything below his wrists to his fingertips. His beak, not yet numb, was icy cold.
Leo quickly discovered he couldn't stand. Body weakened, numb and freezing, his knees buckled; he fell to the ground.
Luckily for him, it wasn't a long drop. The building had been small, in comparison to many of New York's structures. But contact was anything but pleasant. He collided with a dumpster, hitting the corner closest to the wall. Since it hadn't been pushed up against it, there was room on the other side, which was where Leo soon found himself.
Once again thankful for his shell, which he'd landed on, he looked up at the gray and snowy sky above him. Because there were still parts of him that were aware of what they'd just gone through, he moaned at what pain they felt, mainly at the stinging in his right shoulder. That quickly stopped, however. He was suddenly just too damn tired to think of it.
As he was closing his eyes, he thought he heard a thump in the alleyway. The he heard a voice. "Leo?"
It sounded like Michelangelo.
Blinking, curious, he made himself stay awake for another moment. "Mikey…?" He asked.
"Leo!" Now the voice shouted. He heard footsteps heading his way, unsure as to where he might be. Then, above his head, he thought he saw Mike.
He was sure that's who it was when the turtle pushed the dumpster over more to get to him. Carefully, Mikey, lifted Leo's head. He didn't feel anything wet behind it. That meant he wasn't bleeding. That was good.
But Mikey winced. "Jeez, Leo! You're freezing." Lethargically, he watched as Mikey's fingers traced up his right arm and to his shoulder, where they halted. "Bro, I think you dislocated your arm."
"Can barely feel it…" Leo mumbled.
"What?" He heard Mikey ask, fear evident in his voice.
"Too cold." Leo explained. He started to close his eyes once more. "I'm tired…"
Nodding quickly, he watched as Mike took off his coat. "I know, but you gotta stay with me, Leo. Don't got to sleep." He said seriously. "I'm gonna get you home."
Holding onto his coat for a second longer, fishing through his pockets for what turned out to be his Shell Cell, he placed the jacket over his elder brother's body like a blanket. "Stay with me just a little longer." He repeated.
Trying, Leo thought of what had just happened. "I did it…" He whispered. "He was right all along. And I finally did it…" A smile came to his face.
Shell Cell open, Mikey turned back to him. "What are you talking about, bro?" Suddenly then, he typed in the digits to Donny's cell number, tucking his coat in tighter about Leo's body, hoping to keep him warm, while gently shaking him.
Leo had tried to stay awake, he really had. But never before in his life had he been so tired.
&&&&&
Long chapter, so don't complain! No! No complaints!
I'm still getting them, aren't I?
As for the part from Logan's nephew… Logan's… point of view- I apologize if it sucked. I'm sure you all figured out he had some relation to the original Logan early on, but I had to build up the unveiling, just in case. It was extremely difficult not to mention his name, but I had to do it, otherwise it wouldn't have shocked Leo as badly.
So, I hoped you liked, despite the horrid cliffy.
Well, please remember to leave some nice thoughts in your reviews too, if you choose to put one in, which would make me very happy!