It was a little after two o'clock when Leo finally came back, and the first thing he said was, "He's okay."

And Leo looked shaky and pale, almost ghost-like under the sterile, fluorescent lights of the hospital, but he was smiling and the blue of his eyes was bright with exhausted relief—and April burst into tears at the same time Casey whooped in flagrant disregard for waiting room decorum, while Donnie covered his face with both hands and did his best to breathe evenly.

"He got out of surgery about an hour ago," Leo continued, crossing the room to them at a steady pace. "Your dad is talking to the doctors right now, Ape, he'll be back in a little bit."

Mikey didn't realize how hard he was squeezing Leatherhead's hand until Leo was kneeling in front of his chair, and he had no clue he was going to say anything until the words fell out of his mouth almost on their own.

"He's really okay? You really mean it, Leo?"

"Of course I do," his big brother said gently, running fond fingers through his curly hair. "I wouldn't lie to you, Mikey."

If Leatherhead felt Mikey's grip on his hand begin to tremble, he kindly didn't mention it.

"Then why did it take so long? You were gone forever, and all you have to say now is 'he's okay'?" Mikey asked, and hated how loud his voice was in the otherwise quiet room. Hated that the room was beginning to blur just a tiny bit as his eyes started to sting. Hated that he was practically shouting at Leo, of all people, when all he really wanted to do was hug him for about a hundred years and somehow start to feel safe again. And when Leo didn't answer him right away—just sat there looking at him, without speaking—Mikey's underwhelming courage failed him, and he tore his eyes away to stare at his shaking hands. "S—Sorry. Sorry, I just—"

"Oh, Mikey." Leo sounded sad. "Come here."

And Mikey found himself trading Leatherhead's arm for both of Leo's, burying his face in the warm hollow of Leo's neck and shoulder, and following Donnie's quiet lead, trying to keep his breathing even so he didn't lose himself to hysteria.

"Raph is okay," Leo repeated firmly, for the combined benefit of all of his siblings. "He had lost a lot of blood by the time the EMTs got there, and it was touch and go for awhile, but he didn't suffer any brain damage. He was wearing his helmet, that—that made all the difference." Clearing his throat, Leo continued, "They're going to keep him in the ICU for a few more days, to monitor his progress, but Karai thinks he'll be home by the end of the week."

"So soon?" April asked hoarsely, looking at Leo with red eyes. Leo nodded.

"He went straight into surgery for a compound fracture in his left leg. Broken fibula and tibia. Open compounds are dangerous because of the risk of serious infection, but our doctors got to him before that could become an issue. Once I got here, I could answer any questions they had about allergies and medications he may have been on, while they débrided and irrigated his leg, and gave them the go-ahead to do—you know, whatever they needed to do. They put two screws and a rod in his leg. It sounds bad," he added quickly, when April looked a little green, "but it's perfectly common. It's called 'internal fixation', it's just a long piece of metal that sits in the hollow part of the bone, to stabilize the fracture and keep the pieces of the bone aligned. And aside from that—other than a few broken ribs, and a broken arm on the same side, some road rash and a few broken fingers—he's going to be just fine. I swear to you," Leo added, leaning back and cupping Mikey's face in hand, to meet his eyes unflinchingly, "he's okay."

And okay. Okay, maybe Mikey just needed to hear it from Leo. He didn't understand his sudden temper, how quick he was to lash out at all these people he loved; but he could always count on Leo. And Leo did this stuff for a living, he and Karai were physical therapists at this hospital and knew all about getting better and broken bones. If Leo said—if Leo swore—that Raph was okay, then Mikey knew beyond shadow of a doubt that Raph was.

So he nodded, and felt a little less like the weight of his worry was going to crush him, and asked hopefully, "Can we go see him?"

"Mikey..." April started, in the tone of voice Mikey commonly associated with the beginning of bad news. But Leo stood, and April trailed off at whatever she saw on his face.

"He's still in the recovery room right now, but we can wait for him," he said. "If he's still awake at that point, he'll definitely be groggy, and he'll probably go right back to sleep. But you can see him." Delighted, Mikey turned to aim a grin at Donnie, who grinned right back, only a little wobbly. "Um—this hospital is strict about it's visiting restrictions," Leo went on, sounding uncertain for the first time since he joined them, and apologetic. "It's family only for now, until Karai and I can—"

"No, that's fine," Casey said quickly, giving Don's hand a quick squeeze. "You guys go see 'im."

"If you're sure that he's alright, we'll probably go home with dad when he gets back," April said slowly, studying Leo's face like she was waiting for some shadow of betrayal or something at their apparent abandoning of the little Hamato clan. "Since there's school in the morning, and finals are coming up—"

"Absolutely. I feel so bad that you had to come out here like this in the first place," Leo said immediately. "He really will be just fine. You can ask Mr. O'Neil, he probably knows more than I do at this point. And you can come see him tomorrow."

The atmosphere in the room was lighter by spades. Donnie was even smiling as he stood, so shaky with relief he didn't quite make it to his feet without Casey's help, and Mikey didn't think he was imagining it when Casey pressed his lips to Don's hair. Similarly, April kissed his cheek, at almost the same time, and then Mikey was sandwiched between them in a hug he didn't feel like he particularly deserved, after his sorry attitude.

Then it was Leo's turn to be hugged and supported, which he so obviously deserved, so Mikey broke apart as his older siblings started talking in quiet voices, and took the few steps back to Leatherhead.

"Looks like I freaked out for no reason," he said, in a halfhearted attempt at a joke. "I am like, legitimately, so sorry for ruining your night, dude. Feel free to not answer my calls for like a week as payback, okay?"

"Well, then I'd just be punishing myself," LH said, with that lopsided turn to his mouth that reminded Mikey of the day they met. Holy wow, Mikey did not deserve him. "I'm glad I could be of help to you, after all you've done for me. I've already taken my finals this semester—winter break for us is a little earlier than it is for you—so I'm free. Just call me when you need a friend, and I'll be here."

Mikey's smile in return hurt a little bit, but he meant every inch of it. "I always need a friend. I'm totally useless without 'em."

"That remains to be seen," LH said kindly, and gave a knowing tug on Mikey's borrowed sleeve.

Leo and Donnie were waiting for him patiently when he finally extracted himself from LH's bear hug, and Mikey joined them by the door with a little wave goodbye at Casey and April. Don put an arm around his shoulders, and Leo led the way down the hall.

"It's so easy to fear the worst," Donnie confided quietly as they walked. "Waiting rooms suck all the hope right out of you, something about them just— So by the time you hear the good news, you've already been bracing yourself for the bad. I don't blame Mikey for biting your head off when you got here, Leo, I might have done if he hadn't beat me to it."

He gave Mikey a little jostle to lighten the words, let him know it was a joke, and since Leo was smiling wryly and didn't seem the least bit hurt or annoyed, Mikey huffed out a tepid laugh. Honestly, he didn't know what was up with himself lately—it wasn't like him to pick fights, not really. That was definitely closer to Raph's territory, even Donnie's, but not Mikey's.

Or...maybe it wasn't really so surprising. He had started a scene with those Dragons a few weeks ago, in that Chinatown alleyway, over poor little Klunk, and he had yelled at his teammates over Bradford, and fought with Donnie over Leatherhead—twice, even, if Mikey counted yelling at him in the waiting room just a few hours ago. And he had taken stuff out on Leo a little bit, too, and even got mad at April.

Wherever this sudden, seedy temper was coming from, maybe it was a long time coming. Maybe it wasn't so sudden, after all. Mikey wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Okay, here we are," Leo said suddenly, and Mikey blinked out of his mini-reverie to find themselves standing at two big, swinging power doors. They were labeled in red, in English and Spanish both, "Intensive Care Unit." They were already canting open, Leo's hand resting on the button on the wall at his side, but they weren't moving through. Leo was looking at Mikey. "Turn off your phone, buddy."

"Oh! Oh, sure." It was still in Mikey's hand in his hoodie pocket, like a secret security blanket. He withdrew it for his brothers to see, holding the power button until the lock screen displayed a little goodbye message and went dark. He waved it at Leo, then stuck it in his back pocket, and Leo led the way in without further ado.

It was bright and busy inside the ICU. There were a handful of doctors and nurses at the circular desk in the middle, and a lot of people moving back and forth between rooms and medicine carts. For the most part, everyone wearing a pair of scrubs had their eyes glued to a clipboard, or they were talking with stressed, rumpled-looking visitors in quiet, pacifying voices.

There was a security guard by the door, but Leo was wearing his I.D. badge, and greeted the guard by name as they strode right past. A few of the medical staff they passed looked up, but not all of them, and sooner than Mikey thought, they were standing outside a sliding glass door, numbered "4".

"This is Raph's room," Leo said, sliding the door open manually and herding his little brothers inside, out of the way of the hustle of the ICU. "He'll be back from the PACU in just a little bit."

There were two thin armchairs next to the spot where the bed should have been, and a loveseat in the corner. The rest of the room was taken up by complicated-looking machines and digital displays, and Mikey scooted an unconscious step closer to his brothers, grateful when Don's arm squeezed a little tighter around his shoulders.

"There's a lot of stuff in here I could mess up really bad," he said, staring at the unfamiliar technology like it might bite him. "I don't want to mess anything up, Leo, maybe I should go back to the waiting room."

Leo gave Don and Mikey a push toward the armchairs, guiding them like skittish sheep. "Just sit here," he said, not unkindly. "You can't possibly mess anything up if you just sit here."

Don let go of Mikey to sit down, then surged right to his feet again, those sticky eyes of his catching sight of a clipboard hanging on the wall. "Are those his charts?"

"You aren't allowed to look at those," Leo said carefully, and Don didn't so much as blink.

"But you're his attending physical therapist, aren't you? So you're allowed."

"I'm only an assistant. And I'm not on the clock."

"Leo, for the love of—"

The door behind Leo opened again with a wooshing sigh, and they all turned as a pair of nurses carefully maneuvered a large, wheeled bed back inside. It was shaped funny, not all flat and stiff like the hospital beds Mikey had seen in movies; it had a sort of broken Z-shape to it, and big side-rails, and soft-looking blankets and a pillow that looked like a giant marshmallow.

And Raph. It had Raph, too.

Mikey jumped up next to Don, crowding into his arm and doing his best to peer over the side-rail without moving closer, because the nurses were bustling around hooking Raph up to stuff that made some of the screens around the bed light up and beep, and Mikey desperately didn't want to be in the way.

From what he could see, Raph's face looked a little scuffed up, and there were some bruises that disappeared down his neck and under the collar of the seafoam green hospital gown. Both his arms were cut up and covered in angry red welts, dressed lightly in thin gauze, and one of them was casted, and cradled in a tight sling, folded firmly against his chest—so he wouldn't move it while he was all disoriented and hurt himself, Mikey guessed. A few of Raph's fingers were in little splints, and his left leg, the broken one, was in a long cast, too. The gown covered any other hurts there might have been—and Leo had mentioned some broken ribs—but for the most part...

"He looks— He looks okay," Mikey said, hardly daring to believe it. "He's come home from fights before looking worse than this."

Don laughed, and it sounded a little watery. "You're right, he has. Trust Raph to do more damage to Raph than an SUV could."

Leo leaned over Raph from the opposite side of the bed, pushing a hand through Raph's short hair. His face was full and fond and soft, doting in a way Raph never allowed for too long, and Mikey dared to scoot a little closer—darted a quick look at the nurses, to make sure it was okay—then closed the rest of the distance to his brother's side.

"He might be out of it for awhile," one of the nurses explained. "Everyone reacts to general anesthesia a little differently. But even if he isn't fully conscious, he'll be able to hear you. So talk to him. Keep it simple, but let him know you're here."

"He already knows that," Mikey said, hesitantly reaching over the rails to touch his brother's arm. Relief flooded his heart, and filled up his chest cavity like a plugged sink, because Raph's arm felt as solid as ever. "Where else would we be?"

The nurses left after a few more minutes, and one of them lingered to talk to Leo for a little bit, and hugged him hard around the shoulders before he made his way out. In the back of his mind, Mikey was abruptly, absurdly glad Leo worked here. All the people taking care of Raph were Leo's friends, so they would take care of him really well.

"I thought the colored fiberglass was for children," Don said after a moment, running gossamer fingers over the bright red cast on Raph's leg. It matched the red of his arm cast, and Leo's smile back was more amused than anything else.

"I asked them to make an exception. He's going to be impossible to deal with for the next few months as it is, we might as well make it easier on ourselves where we can."

He was still stroking Raph's hair as he spoke, and Mikey rested his chin on the side-rail. "Will he be hurting when he wakes up?"

"They've got him connected to a PAC," Leo said, and smiled crookedly at Mikey's uncomprehending expression. "That stands for "patient-controlled analgesia." It's an infusion pump that sends pain meds through this IV drip right into Raph's bloodstream, whenever he needs it." Leo pointed out the particular tube, and Mikey followed it with his eyes back to a little box beside Raph's bed. It had a little screen and a bunch of buttons, and Mikey was glad Leo knew what it was, because Mikey would never have guessed. "All he has to do is press a button on the little remote."

"If he isn't lucid right away, he might accidentally overdose," Don said, looking alarmed, but Leo shook his head.

"It's programmed so he can't. It'll only release a dose within a certain parameter. And Raph's going to be monitored very carefully on top of that. We're gonna take good care of him."

And Donnie relaxed, immediately assuaged the way Mikey knew he would be. If there was anyone they could trust to look after Raphael, it was obviously Leo.

"Man, I wish our elevator worked back home," Mikey said abruptly, eyeing Raph's leg cast. "It's not gonna be a picnic getting him up those five flights of stairs. He's gonna be mad he needs help anyway. Can you even imagine?"

"Oh, god," Donnie said in a burst of helpless laughter. "I hadn't even thought of that."

"Remind me to call the landlord," Leo said wryly, while his little brothers muffled chuckles; and at about that moment, Raph's eyes fluttered open. Mikey held his breath, and Don went stone-stiff beside him—it seemed so sudden! For all that they were sitting there waiting for him to wake up, they sure weren't prepared for it. But Leo just resumed stroking his hair and didn't miss a beat with his warm smile, while Raph's muddy green eyes traced the touch back to Leo, and struggled to focus on his face.

"Hey, Raphie. Are you with us?"

It didn't seem like he was going to answer. He just blinked a few times, slowly, like his eyelids weighed a hundred pounds, and then looked past Leo at the hospital room. He didn't quite make it all the way to Don and Mikey's side of the bed—it looked like moving his head was more effort than it was worth—before his eyes moved back to Leonardo.

And he may have been tired and sore, but he'd been in that recovery room after surgery for long enough that the bulk of the anesthesia must have worn off; because he was lucid enough to say, "'m so sorry."

"Hey," Leo said firmly, cupping Raph's battered face in his free hand. "Don't do that."

But then Raph's face was crumpling, grief folding him right down the middle, lips pressing into a thin, deep frown as tears dripped down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, his one good hand forming a pathetic fist in the thin blanket draped over his waist. "'m—really sorry, Leo."

Don was silent as he folded down the bed's adjustable side-rail on their side; as soon as it was out of the way, Mikey was climbing up. There was plenty of free space next to Raph—or enough space for Mikey, anyway, as small as he was—and he was careful not to bump any of the tubes and the wires. He was on Raph's good side, the side without any broken bones, and dared to put his head on Raph's shoulder.

He thought he knew why Raph was apologizing. It seemed like ages ago that Mikey overheard that budget talk, listening from the hallway through a crack in the door. Money was tight, always so tight, even if he'd never been fully aware of that until recently. Leo got a good job when he finished school, but if Mikey knew anything about hospitals and ambulance rides and surgeries, it's that all of it was expensive. And Raph worked hard for their family too, every day after school and long shifts on the weekends, and Raph knew more about their budget and cost of living than Mikey did and maybe even Donnie, too. And Raph knew, better than Mikey wished he did, what his accident was going to cost them.

And knowing that looked like it was breaking his heart.

But Leo just held him, smoothing the tears away with the pads of his fingers, and said, "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. Don't cry, little brother, we're going to take care of you. And we're going to be just fine."

Up until that very last part, it looked like Leo meant every word.