A.N - I've combined Paper Flowers with the chapter that came after it in the hopes of sorting out any confusion as to what was going on with Leo and Splinter. I hope this makes sense now, and once again to any and all, there is a little bit of a backtrack, I forgot to post up the chapter 'I'll Stand By You'.
Paper Flowers
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare I built my own world to escape
The lair was far too quiet; returning from a run Leonardo looked around the open dark space. The air hung thick in the only place he had called home. Not that it unduly bothered him, in many ways he found it comforting. Walking through the room he glanced around. Where was everyone?
He started his sweep of the lair with the laboratory. "Donny?"
He wasn't there, which meant something was wrong; Donny was never out of his laboratory. Only last week he had joked about it being his second home he spent so much time there. A safe place within a cocoon.
Irritated he turned his attention to the kitchen, crossing the shaded world with its mute tones to step up into the kitchen area. "Mikey!"
Silence greeted him.
"Hey, Mikey!" he repeated the call for his youngest brother when he didn't get a response. Despite the warm air in the kitchen the oven wasn't on, nor was the small electrical heater that Mikey clung to. "Mikey?" he repeated the call quietly, biting down onto his lip whilst he continued to look around. This is stupid
Leaving the kitchen Leo made his next port of call in the dojo, intense scrutiny of the dummy transformed his unease into worry. Raph regularly trashed the stupid thing and yet here it was perfect. Pulling open the arm he studied the straw that he pulled out, not a strand of it was broken or twisted. What the Hell had Raph been doing if he hadn't been doing it in here? Dropping it on the floor he hurried out of the room, something was wrong and the only person he could think of to solve this mystery was his father. Jumping over the stone steps and onto the hardened, grey floor he called to his dad, "Master Splinter?" With such odd things occurring Leo gave little thought at the inappropriateness of entering his Sensei's dwellings without prior arrangement. Climbing up the stairs to his father's private quarters he stopped abruptly on the brink.
Beyond the hanging yellow muslin was nothing. Nothing but a large dark expanse that stretched outwards in all directions. "Father?" he called, trying to sound calm and authoritive. Despite the stretching void there was no echo, rather worryingly there was no anything.
"DAD!" he screamed at the open space, backing away from the doorway he instinctively went for his thumb. Biting down onto it he stumbled towards the sofa, raw fear flooding him for the first time in his life. Reaching his destination he curled up on it his eyes flickering round the room before resting upon the television. For a few seconds he stared at the television screen, television was good, it was calming … it was safe. Reliable. Reaching for the remote control he flicked the machine on, only to be confronted with silent static. Climbing up he walked over, his hand thudding on the top of the small plastic shell numerous times to no avail.
The taste of iron flooded his mouth; pulling his hand from his mouth he stared at the gaping wound that was beginning to leak red in horrific cascades. Jamming his left hand under his right armpit he hurried towards the entrance to his home, he would go on a run, and when he came back everything would be back to normal. Again he reached the outer limits of the lair to only be confronted by the same chilling darkness once more. Tentatively he reached his foot out to feel for the reassuring cold that came from the concrete he knew should be underfoot. Instead of getting the comfort he sought his limb was swallowed by the inky darkness, his foot and leg sinking down into nothing. From within the oppressively comforting calm that surrounded him in the lair movement and disquiet began to stir.
Turning round his eyes widened as the darkness that hung eerily around the ceiling, the same darkness that denied him his opportunity to escape and lurked in his father's quarters began to grow and shift. Tendrils of shadow extended down along the walls consuming the perfectly preserved, neatly laid out lair in a rush of coldness beyond his control. With animal instinct it manipulated itself across all visible surfaces, snaking and extending in calming waves that rippled along the walls. This wasn't right, this was not how things were supposed to be … in his heart Leonardo knew this to be so. Backing away from the invasion, Leonardo instinctively heading towards his room. All the while the dark continued to flow out, pulsating from his father's quarters to consume all that lay in its path. Having consumed the items that lay in Leonardo's perfectly formed world the dark halted its determined, persistent approach leaving behind an area coated in a shroud of black that clung there like the web of a spider.
"Leonardo?"
If his thumb acted as a comforter, his bedroom was his sanctuary. Slamming the door Leonardo leant his back against it, struggling to take deep breaths to calm his alert, horribly sensitive nerves. As the scent of lavender crept through the cracks in the door to tickle his nostrils he reached for the bolt. Pushing the sleek steel into place he returned to biting down onto his hand, his right ear pressed against the door straining to hear where the intruder was.
From within his quarters the faded, translucent rat emerged. With a gentle popping sound he made the transition from the material world to the astral, his eyes scanning the twisted darkened world for signs of his lost son. Opening his mouth he whispered for his child, the gentle plea lost in a distressingly empty world.
"Leonardo?" it was a tiring exercise, and one that the rat had little experience in. From the folds of his robe he pulled out a single white candle, placing it down onto the ground, he held one hand over it focussing intently until it caught flame. "A beacon to light your way home." He whispered to the void that crawled about his feet, angrily protesting his unwanted presence.
Closing his eyes he leant his head up against the smooth wood, letting out a final long sigh … with the unexpected invasion each of his muscles had tensed, but now a comforting numbness and calm returned to flood his body. His mind was playing tricks on him with the unwanted, uninvited sound of his family. Sliding down onto the floor he drew his legs up to his chest, before resting his head onto his raised knees. Wrapping his arms around his legs he calmed himself with a series of deep breaths.
It was over.
---
Splinter's closed eyes creased slightly, his deep breaths becoming lighter and lighter as he trawled his way back into the real world and his own body. The hands that rested upon his bent knees instinctively twitched, followed by the innate tension that came to a body that was awakening and preparing to become active.
Sitting on a mat before a burning white candle, the incense that hung in the air spiced it with the scent of lavender, the small circle of crystals that surrounded him catching the flames from the candle and reflecting them onto torso. In the shadow of the dojo, two patiently waiting boys lingered. Hugging Mr Blankie in his right hand Mikey had regressed to the point where he had started sucking on his own thumb. His head tilted to one side watching his dad carefully, being greeted with a weary expression that gave away nothing. Pulling his thumb from his mouth he hurried forward with a plate of Christmas Cookies, sitting down he held the plate out, eager to hear the news.
"Whad did he say?" he asked quietly, his eyes shining brightly.
Taking a biscuit Splinter took a small bite, holding a hand up to silence the persistent questions that would surely pour forth. "Your culinary skills are improving Michel." Leaning forward he blew out the white candle, before eating a little more food. "Fetch me some tea please."
"Yea, but whad did he say?" for once Mikey wasn't going to be simply fobbed off with compliments or another task."
"Michelangelo, do as you are asked please." He repeated, his tone becoming harsher.
Pouting Mikey stood to do as he was bidden. Pausing midway in his trip to the kitchen he turned back to his Dad for clarification on Raphael's promise, "But he will be back for Christmas?"
"Fetch me my tea please."
Disheartened he slipped out, leaving Splinter behind with Donny. Over the past ten days he had been hiding from his family the most. It hurt Splinter to see his son hiding away in a book or behind a broken piece of machinery but there was little he could do to reassure him at this moment in time. Until he could reach Leonardo it seemed that there was very little anyone could do to restore Donatello's shaken confidence.
----
Donatello had read in one of his books that talking to a catatonic patient was the best way to help them, and so from time to time he slipped in to tell him about his day, and his discoveries. But guilt, and it seemed fear kept him from staying for any more than a few minutes at a time when he did visit. When asked he would respond with a nervous shrug and tiny smile.
Raphael's reaction had been completely different to that of his brothers. Whilst Mikey had returned to the bad habits of his youth by sucking his thumb and carrying around his comfort blanket, Raphael had grown brazen and angry. With his son lost to him Raphael's demand for reassurance and attention had fallen to the way side in many respects, and this in turn had seen a marked deterioration in his desire to interact with his siblings. The most painful consequence being his point blank refusal to spend any time with Leonardo whist he lay on his bed, in a room he had always kept clinically clean. For the most part Splinter spent his time talking to and stimulating Leonardo's nervous system using both modern and traditional techniques.
And it was simply not enough.
However it was Mikey who spent the most time with his brother, having discovered that he could make his brother's body move he often repositioned it in funny ways for his own amusement. He had found a new playmate, a living doll if Splinter willed it, whom he fed and after a week of no response even began to exercise …
"What are you doing Michel?"
"We're runnin' …" sitting on the end of the bed, Mikey held onto both calves and moved the limbs in a circular motion. "I'm winnin' …"
Placing the candles, incense and warm water down, Splinter had taken his place upon the floor, his expression one of sheer curiosity.
"Cuz big bro likes runnin'"
Of course Michelangelo's innocent reply had made him smile at the time, and since his 'game' staved off the muscle stiffness that came with an underused body he allowed it to continue on a daily basis.
With all of his physical options failing him the old warrior turned to persistence, reading and talking to his child about the old culture of Japan, and the hopes he had for the future. But despite it all it felt in the old bones of the rat that he had failed one of his children, and failed him badly.
