'And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.
There are many things that I would
Like to say to you
But I don't know how

Because maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my wonderwall' - Wonderwall Oasis

Chapter 12


Leonardo gazed up at Karai, "Escape?"

She nodded, sucking on her split bottom lip. The metal tang of blood coated the tip of her tongue.

Leo stared for another moment, eyes calm and level, before he said, "This is my home. Why would I want to leave?"

"What do you mean, why? They gave you away. To your enemy. Why would you want to stay here after that?"

Leo looked away. His breath exhaled in a small sharp puff; as though he'd just been struck. His fingers played along the edge of the stump of his arm. A dull pain flared. His stomach turned and he stopped, resting his hand on his stomach, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse beneath his plastron. He cleared his throat.

"Where would we go?"

Karai jumped at his consideration of the idea, hesitant as it was, it was still something. "Anywhere we wanted," she replied and she meant it. She scooted her feet closer and she leaned forward, trying to catch his eye. Where earlier the thought of being on her own in the city made her frightened and feel small, there was nothing to fear when she imagined being with him. The depth of comfort just the thought of his presence in her imagination brought was something she took for granted. She didn't question why it was; didn't look too closely at what it meant. What it could mean. What it signified about her feelings for him.

"It'll be great. No one could stop us. We'd survive. On our own terms. No more masters. No more deceit. No more lies."

Leo turned his head back to her and looked into her eyes, listening. Her face was lit with the glow of possibility and irrational hope. Cheeks flush slightly. In the dim light coming from the other room, her head and body were partially in light shadow, but he could make out her eyes, her mouth; the curve of her cheek. He could feel the heat from her body, standing so close to him. And there was another moment of that flicker of panic that raced through him, but it passed. She was human, but so unlike the men at the Foot headquarters, he instinctively did not fear her. In fact, it was the opposite, he discovered as he found himself leaning slightly towards her. As she spoke, her voice was low and conspiring, much like how she'd speak to him on the roof tops when they'd encounter each other, lightly spar until it became a straight up fight and then, sometimes tease and joke. He watched her lips moving, followed the words spilling from between them. He soon lost track of what she was saying.

He remembered making her laugh. The way the sound of it drove tingling ripples over his body like he was a small pond and she, the breeze, flowing over every part of him, leaving nothing untouched. He shivered as darker thoughts intruded on the sweet memory. Ugly. The groans of the men echoed in the back of his mind; piercing the bubble of his tentative moment of comfort. The Shredder's mocking laughter the first time he'd ejaculated despite his terror and pain; the coarse manipulation of his body bringing it through the natural fruition of such stimulation. Under the awful circumstances, however, it felt anything but natural. Just another affront, another degradation of his already battered, abused, aching body. Just another thing the Shredder took from him without his consent.

He swallowed dryly; doing his best to ignore the twisted images his mind was conjuring; focusing instead on her voice, pinning all his concentration on it. Listening hard, now. To every word she was saying.

She went on, "We could live however we wanted. Think about it, Leo. No one would tell us what to do or how to live. It would be so sweet."

She paused and licked at her lip, his eyes focused on the pink of her tongue and he felt uncomfortable as a mix of feelings ebbed and flowed inside him. The darkness welled, but he pushed it back, listening, hearing more than her words, hearing what she was saying to him. Really hearing it. Absorbing the message in full. Her voice was like a lullaby and his body grew heavy and relaxed as she spoke of this imagined life they'd have. If she was blind to what she was actually saying; to the picture she was painting for him; he was not; to him it was vivid and clear. A beautiful picture to hang over the gaping cracks in the wall of his soul.

Her words had a strange effect on him. He could see it. He could believe in this, this place she was creating, where they'd have only each other, depend only on each other. Protect and look out for each other. Love each other. He wanted to believe in it. Wanted to so badly. He was hurting so much right now. In so many ways. To run away now, to leave the terror and fear and simmering hatred behind. It was so tempting.

The truth was that it was actually something he'd dreamt of those nights when the loneliness became too large, threatening his meditative calm. Something he knew could never be in his rational mind. It was out of his reach. She was part of the enemy clan. But now, to have it suddenly offered, his secret wish brought out into the open, exposed to the light of reality, to see it for what it was, what it could only ever be; simply a wish. A dream. An impossible one. And yet, she was genuine in her offer; so it seemed. It made his aching head spin, this admission, even if she didn't seem to really realize herself what she was saying to him. That she'd go with him. Escape. With him. Him alone. Him and her. Together. Did she really not hear herself?

Slowly, still unsure of her and what she really wanted from him; unsure of his own reaction to being close to someone after what he'd just gone through; he moved his hand from his stomach under the blanket and reaching tentatively, he placed his fingers on top of her hand where it rested on the cot. Immediately she turned her hand over, without even looking at it and her fingers curled around his, squeezing affectionately. Leo felt his heart stumble. She was serious. She would go with him. They could do this. They could really live that life. That beautiful dream could be theirs. He just had to say yes.

"Don't you get it? They don't want us, and you know what? We don't need them," she finished in a forceful whisper; eyes flashing.

Leo blinked once as the last words she said hit him, then sighed. It was a soft sound. He allowed himself another second or two to pass while he remained in that beautiful, impossible world. Where only he and she existed. Together. Alone. Then he came back to Earth. The descent from heaven back into the pain, the restrictions, the burdens and responsibilities, the truth. His hope incinerated upon reentry. His love for her remained, though, completely unscathed. But love did not release him from the burden of what he was or who he was. It only complicated matters.

He shook his head. "I will not leave my family, Karai."

She stiffened. "But after what he's done to you . . ."

He said nothing, but stared stonily up at the ceiling. The silence stretched out. She remained there, staring at him. The tension grew and he could feel her protests, silent but heavy, pressing to be freed from her mind. But she matched his stubborn silence. And he felt the moment she realized there was nothing she could say or do that would change his mind. A shift in the air between them. A nearly silent exhale, a surrender. Resignation without a sound.

There was his honor at stake and even Karai understood that Leonardo would not act a coward and flee from his dutiful responsibilities. He'd made that clear to her before. Many times. She had tried to sway him in times past and hadn't succeeded. But then, it was for selfish reasons. This time, she had really only wanted to take him from this place. Away from a master that had hurt him the way her own had hurt her. False fathers. Liars, she thought vehemently. But the anger slipped away, she was suddenly exhausted and tears were burning the back of her eyes. She thought she was offering him something good. She thought she could redeem past wicked deeds that she'd done to him by assisting in his escape.

By inches he felt her let go of his hand. From the corner of his watering eye, he saw her turn, shoulders down. A jolt of doubt went through him, then. And he feared that she may leave without him. Wasn't that what some of her speech had really been about? The fact that she was going to leave and wanted him to come with? Would she go without him? Would she leave him here? To face all of this alone? The thought turned his blood to ice and a tremor went through him. He needed her. Here with him.

And in that moment of fright he nearly reached out to grasp the back of her shirt, to tell her he'd changed his mind. That he would go wherever she wanted. Just as long as she didn't leave him. The moment was slipping away. He clenched his jaw. Eyes widening. Could he really leave his family? What about his brothers? He held onto the blanket, gripped it tightly in his fist, squeezing until his knuckles were pale, until he saw her move to the cot and lay down. He drew in a hitching breath. Only then did he relax. Only then did he exhale.


When he woke up his body was on fire. He gasped and struggled against the blanket. His limbs cramped and quaked. He cried out. Swung his head back and forth. Where was he? The darkness was around him, hands were on him, holding him down, hurting him. He shook and growled. Arched his back as much as his shell allowed. Kicked his legs. But they wouldn't stop. His body shook with rage and indignant fury.

And then he heard the Shredder's voice in his ear, felt his breath on his neck. And he fell to trembling like a frightened child. Quailing, shrinking in on himself, he pinched his eyes tight. But the Shredder's imposing presence remained. The ghoul would not vanish so easily.

'Say it again, my son,' he said, his voice a rumbling sound against his ear.

Leo moaned and thrashed against the stone floor, unable to do more than writhe and cry. His fingers snaked around and tightened against the front of Leo's throat. Stars were circling in his vision and then he felt the Shredder's other hand . . . stroking, pumping . . . felt the waves of disgust flow up and over the rocky surface of his physical reactions; tasted the bile, acidic and burning in the back of his throat; felt the coiling in his lower regions tightening despite his pain, despite not wanting to; the horrible pleasure along with his fingers squeezing his throat making him gag, tighter . . . faster . . . he didn't want to . . . he didn't want to . . .

'Say it. Speak it and I will stop.'

Nodding, ready to believe anything, any lie to make his shame end, he blurted out between his groaning gasps, 'F-Fath-er, Fa-ther!'

But he didn't stop. He lied. And Leo was a fool. He went faster. Harder. Until his body clenched, jerked and shuddered. Until he spilled out of himself, over his abuser's hand, onto the stones. Leo moaned piteously and sobbed. The Shredder laughed.

"Shh."

"N-No!"

Hands patted at him. He moved to punch with his left hand, forgetting it was gone. But the arm was thrown aside and his lurching body was caught and propped up. He struggled and flailed. He growled and grunted, bucking and kicking his heels, striking nothing but the mattress beneath him. But he was on the floor. Wasn't he? Where was he? He tossed his shoulders, but was held back. He bucked again and slammed into something solid but malleable. He heard a soft intake of air. Someone was next to him! He thrashed harder.

"D-Don't! Don't!"

His fingers groped and he couldn't understand why he could only feel his right hand, couldn't understand why his left was hurting so much. His arms shot out and he groaned as his left struck brick. Quaking in pain, he curled over himself, moaning. The agony roped up through his shoulder and into his back. Throbbing. Coursing bright and terrible. His breath shuddered out from between gritted teeth, spraying foam over his bottom lip.

His head was suddenly pressing against something soft, through his terror he heard the steady, rhythmic sound of a heartbeat, felt small arms going around him. Smaller hands gripping him gently, but firmly. He went rigid, whimpering, but soon the realization dawned that the person was not hurting him. He settled himself to laying still as much as he could; panting, wide eyes darting around, confused and scared, as he felt someone gingerly lean him back. The mattress beneath him shifted and he was cradled against someone behind him; legs and arms holding him. Soft hands stroked his shoulders while slender arms criss-crossed over his chest, making him feel less confined and more comforted. Protected. He trembled and blinked in the darkness. A soft mewl of confusion broke from him. He felt a soft cheek rub against the top of his head.

"Shh."

Then her scent wafted over him. Comprehension dawned. Karai. Karai had him. Was embracing him with her entire body. Too tired to feel embarrassed, too exhausted to feel anything but surrender, he slumped against her. Allowed her to hold him. Succumbing to the comfort she was offering to him.

"You're okay, now," she said quietly, lips against the side of his head. "You're okay."

He believed her. He sniffled once. And in that instant, he let go. Tears drying on his cheeks, he fell into a dreamless sleep.


Donatello opened his eyes. No sound had brought him out of his light slumber, his brother was silent as he was trained to be, despite his bulk. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest at an awkward angle. Don's eyes rolled to look up at the clock on the shelf near his bed. He blinked.

"Four a.m.?"

Raph looked at him, then drew his gaze back to the floor. Donatello sat up, rubbed one eye with the heel of his left hand.

"Do you . . . need something?"

Slowly, Raph unfolded his arms. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and presented his hands, palms down to Donnie. The knuckles were ravaged, swollen, split and bleeding. Donatello climbed out of bed.

"What happened to you?" he hissed, and switched on the overhead light. He moved towards where Raph remained; taking his brothers hands into his and peering closer. Donnie looked up. Frowned sharply. "Did . . . Did Splinter do this to you?"

Raph shook his head, "No."

Donatello, sadly, did not look convinced and the doubt in his brother's reaction hurt something deep inside of Raphael. He sighed, aggravated but also a little depressed.

"I sort of punched my wall a little."

Donatello dropped his hands and turned to fetch the first aid kits he housed under his bed. They each had their own. Donatello had insisted that spare kits be stored all throughout the lair. Their lives were unpredictable and dangerous. Besides that, if it was something that could wait until more decent hours to be attended to by him, he preferred them doing some of their own first aid.

"Raph."

He moved to sit in Donatello's computer chair. He glanced at the laptop, and noticed the string of text messages that his brother and April had shared last night. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"You didn't tell April, did you?" he asked and the question had an edge to it that made Donnie pause.

Slowly he replied, "No, Raph. Not yet. I wasn't thinking it was something to text about. Given the gravity of the situation."

Raph nodded, satisfied.

"But she'll want to know what happened to Leo's arm." Raph looked away. "She's part of this family, Raph."

He set his mouth to a grim line. "I know, Donnie. It's just . . . so fucked up," his voice cracked and Donatello felt, for the first time, some real emotion stir. It was small and distant, but real, nonetheless. Instead of feeling relieved, however, Don felt slightly irritated. He set to wiping Raph's self-inflicted wounds with antiseptic drenched cotton balls. Raph didn't even flinch though Don knew it stung.

As he wrapped his hands, Raph looked at him, green eyes glassy. "Aren't you going to tell me it's gonna be fine or something?"

Don was quiet for a bit. Knowing that Raph was not talking about the state of his knuckles and fingers. Then he replied, "What would be the point in that?"

Raph looked crushed, then his face darkened as he looked away.

A soft aggravated sound had them both turn towards the doorway. Mikey stood there. Don dropped his eyes down. He packed up the first aid kit with slow deliberate motions.

"The point? Are you guys serious?" Mikey took two steps into the room. There were dark circles under his eyes. It was obvious that he hadn't slept. "How can you talk like that, Donnie?"

Don looked up at him with a blank expression. He felt himself shrug. Raph rubbed one line of neatly wrapped bandages on his opposite hand.

"Donnie's right. Everything's fucked."

"No. Donnie's not right, Raph. Donnie," he huffed and pointed at them both. "And you, Raph. You and Donnie are wrong. Don't you get it?"

They blinked owlishly at him.

"Leo's the one who's been through . . . well, he's been through hell and you're in here talking about there being no point in hoping things will get better!"

His voice rose by the end of the sentence to a near shout, chest heaving. Donnie and Raph exchanged shocked glances with one another. Then each of them swept their gaze to the floor.

"Master Splinter made a mistake, okay?" Mikey's voice now took on a pleading, hoarse tone that sounded like he was fighting tears. "He made a big one. B-But I think he was just trying to put his family back together, you know?"

Raph's jaw worked and Mikey caught the familiar sign that his brother was not having it. He muttered under his breath, "Mistake," and shook his head in revulsion.

"Well, what if it were one of us? What if it was you, Raph? Like, taken or kidnapped when you were little and Master Splinter found out. You sure would want him to come and rescue you, wouldn't you!?"

Raph stood up and Donatello scrambled back so as not to get knocked over.

"That's different."

"Oh yeah, how? He loves Karai . . . just like us," Mikey added sounding a little less convinced.

Raph pounced, "He shouldn't, Mikey. That's what so messed up about this. It's not the same. He doesn't even know her. Not only that but she's tried to kill us. She hates us! She hates him!"

"That's not true!" Mikey's hands were in fists at his sides, chest puffed up as Raph crowded him.

"Even if it wasn't, what about Leo?"

Mikey deflated, eyes growing huge.

"Huh, smart guy? What about what happened to your brother? What he went through was worth it? Just to get that little bitch back here so she can stab Master Splinter in the back the first chance she gets. You're gonna stand there and tell me it was good what Master Splinter done?"

Mikey was shaking his head.

"What? You think you understand her or somethin'? Is that what you're trying to tell me and Don, here? You babysat her for a few hours and she talked you into believing some sob story about her and her dad, the Shredder?" He poked Mikey in the chest. "You got played. And Leo was nearly killed. Not only that . . . but-but . . ." his eyes flashed and he dropped what he was about to say. Instead he went on, "All for that rotten bitch to be brought here and what? No. No! I am not going to stand here and listen to you defend any of this."

Mikey flinched. "No. Sh-She said . . . she told me . . ."

"What? What did she tell ya?" Raph shook his head and started to pace. "Of course you'd believe her."

"W-What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you're stupid enough to be tricked by that little act of hers."

Mikey's hurt face snapped to his other brother. Donatello leaned against his computer desk. He crossed his arms and shook his head. He felt a wave of hurt for Donatello not backing him up. Mikey pressed his mouth into a tight line.

"You guys are the idiots here. You are. You're stupid. 'Cuz Master Splinter isn't going to change his mind. Karai's his daughter and he loves her. We gotta try," he switched tactics again, pleading now for them to understand and hear him out. "We have to. For Leo."

Raph rounded on him. "For Leo? Are you kiddin' me?! You're gonna stand there and tell me we need to be nice to Karai and accept her for Leo?" He shook his head in disgust. "You don't even know what they did to him."

"I was in the room when you brought him home! I heard what you said."

Raph narrowed his eyes. He huffed brushed him away with a dismissive gesture. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand and I'm not gonna spell it out for you."

Mikey's eyes were brimming now. He slapped the sides of his thighs then did it again. "Well, I guess you've made up your mind."

"That's right. I have."

"You're gonna keep fighting with Dad and D-Donnie's just . . . just going to . . ."

Donatello glanced up, curious.

"I dunno, freak out and get all weird on us. Lock himself away in his head. Yeah, th-that's going to do a lot for Leo."

Don straightened up, digesting Mikey's accusation.

Mikey looked at Raph who was not affected by his tearful speech. "And then what, Raph?"

"I dunno. But I do know that Karai is not going to get away with this. Leo . . . what he went through . . ." Raph's face grew dark and his eyes flashed. In a low growl of a voice he promised, "I'm gonna make her pay for what was done to our brother." With that he stormed out of the room.

Mikey twisted and watched him go, standing helplessly before turning back to Donatello. He remained stoic and blank faced.

"Donnie . . . Please."

He felt something starting to crack inside of him at his younger brother's wide, glassy-eyed appeal. Talking to April last night had helped. Though he didn't tell her what was going on at home, just seeing her face, just chatting like a normal teen about normal things like chemistry homework and algebra; it had calmed him immensely, composed him; renewed and rejuvenated him. The way his heart pounded in his chest when she appeared on the computer screen reminded him that he did not want to be unable to feel anything. He was afraid. But he did not want to be a soulless automaton.

It was like moving through wet cement, but he managed to raise his arm. Mikey, with a look of infinite relief, collapsed forward into the proffered hug. He clung to Donnie, squeezing him.

"Don't shut us out, bro. We need ya. Leo . . . Raph . . . me. I need your help. I dunno what to do. Raph's right," he choked. "I dunno what happened to Leo. But I know it was b-bad. Th-They cut off his arm, Donnie."

Unable to hold back any longer, he cried into Donnie's chest, shaking and blubbering for a bit in his big brother's embrace. He felt Don rubbing his shell in a comforting way. When he finally pulled back, he saw that Don was crying, too. Mikey rubbed the side of his brother's face double checking that he wasn't imagining it. Then with the back of his hand he wiped his own wet cheek. He breathed out a broken chuckle.

"I'm glad you can still do that, dude. I was . . . g-getting a little worried. Will you h-help me?"

Don nodded.

"What should we do?"

Donatello looked towards the door of his bedroom. He swallowed and sniffed. Then he looked back down at Mikey who was waiting for some answer to solve all of this. The picture was broken into a hundred thousand shards scattered all around them, but Donnie could still make it out. It was not a lost cause. But they needed to pick up each piece individually. Examine it and then mend it as best as possible. He knew some of the pieces were damaged irrevocably, but they'd still fit; warped a little, but he believed the picture could be made whole again. He had to. For Mikey. For Splinter and Raphael. For himself. But mostly for Leo.

"Raph, he'll need to calm down. He's like a ticking time bomb. He's just too angry right now. He . . . He hurt himself last night. Punching the bricks. God," Don shook his head, pinched the bridge of his snout. Mikey's wide eyes grew larger. "We'll need to keep him away from Karai. Maybe get April down here to watch over Karai. Like . . . like chaperone her. Help Master Splinter with acclimating Karai to her new home. And then . . ." Don sighed. "He's gonna need us."

Mikey nodded eagerly. Having Don back and offering his help was like coming up for air after feeling himself drowning. He wasn't alone in this, not anymore. He never felt more grateful that he had brothers than he did in that moment.

"Leo, you mean?"

"Yeah," Donnie said. His expression soured as he fell back into his computer chair and Mikey blinked, suddenly afraid.

"Master Splinter is struggling with some denial, I think." He tapped at the surface of the desk. He glanced at Mikey then away. "Leo's going to need us today. Sensei is going to have him explain what went wrong at the Foot headquarters."

Mikey blinked hard, frowning, trying to comprehend the situation. "Y-You mean . . . why his arm was cut off?"

Donnie squeezed his brother's shoulders. "Yeah, Mikey. Something like that."

"Leo will just tell him what happened." He didn't understand why Don seemed concerned about this. Leo always told Master Splinter what happened during their runs or battles with the Foot. Why was this any different? A thought hit him and his stomach did a little flip. "Donnie, Splinter will believe him. Right?"

Donatello dropped his arms to his sides. He pushed the chair back a little with his toes. The rush of emotions going through him made him suddenly miss the cool detachment that he'd started to form inside himself. It was so much easier to lock away these feelings than deal with them directly. A faint headache formed in the side of his head.

"Of course. But . . ."

"But what?"

"Mikey . . ." How could he explain this in a way that his little brother could understand? He searched Mikey's bright blue eyes. His brother was very intuitive. Silly as he could be at times, he was unusually receptive of the family's underlying feelings. "What Leo went through while at the Foot headquarters . . . there's more to it than-than a fight, or-or a battle." Don's frown deepened at the lost look on Mikey's face. He swallowed and tried again. "Something bad happened to Leo." Mikey opened his mouth but Don held up his hand to silence him. "Other than his hand and arm, Mikey. When we found Leo . . . he was . . . well, he was in the Shredder's bedroom. In his, uh, bed."

Mikey blinked. He didn't understand but his stomach was starting to hurt. A vague concept was taking shape in the back of his mind and he didn't want it to finish. A mental image of his brave, smart, quick brother . . . in the Shredder's bedroom. Why would he be in there? What about the word Raph had said. He mentioned sex. That Leo had been a . . . a toy. Mikey's stomach lurched. He suddenly wanted Donnie to shut up. He couldn't hear whatever it was that was too terrible to say aloud. He didn't want to know what happened to Leo. Not to him. Not his big brother. His super hero, ultra-captain of goodness and ninja skill. No. He didn't think he could bear it. He stepped forward and covered Don's mouth with his hand as he opened it again.

He whispered, but didn't know why. "Don't tell me, okay? I'm going to have nightmares about this as it is, okay?"

Donnie looked up at him. He blinked and nodded. Two large tears broke free from Don's eyes, wetting Mikey's hand.

He went on, still whispering, "Maybe . . . maybe one day. W-When I'm bigger, okay? When I can . . . handle it, okay? O-Okay?" Maybe never. Is that okay?

Donnie covered Mikey's hand, still over his mouth, gently giving it a pat and nodded again.


A/N: Aw, Mikey.

And Leo x Karai. waaaah! You know I love pairing them up. (I MUCH prefer the slow version of Wonderwall by Ryan Adams - haunting!)