Sing out, sing out

The silence only eats us from the inside up

I meant no harm

But I only get to say these words too late

"Lifeboats" - Snow Patrol

-Denial-

It was hailing, over his head the sound of pennies on a metal roof. The sound by itself wasn't the issue, Leo could cope with a little hail and harsh winds, what he couldn't cope with was the fact that he really had overdone it.

He woke up earlier than usual that morning, he had felt off. His sheets were soaked in sweat and the first thing he did was drag himself into the bathroom. He cupped his hands under the faucet and drank the water out of the tap he was so parched. Now, if he ever saw Mikey or Raph doing that, he'd admonish them, tell them to get a glass, they weren't animals.

Then Donnie would pipe up and say. "Well, technically Leo-" and he would have to amend his statement to something else, because animal or not, hands are not a valid means of getting liquid into one's mouth.

It wasn't like they were living in a jungle.

His head throbbed painfully and he felt a twinge of nausea stab through his guts. Not enough to actually bring anything up, just enough to sit on his mind and whisper a thinly veiled promise of reuniting him with his lunch. The hail was becoming louder than the thunder.

They had breakfast and everything was fine, he was still feeling bad, but not bad enough to do something . It wasn't even worth mentioning to anyone. It could easily have been a case of sleeping with too many covers and not waking up to remove them. When he breezed through training with only a slight headache, the idea that he was sick died and he moved on with his day. When lunch came it was obvious from the way his brothers were acting that they didn't want him around.

It hurt, when they asked if he was going to visit April, or go for a run. Maybe meditate with their father or train by himself. He wasn't obtuse, he knew over the years, as they approach their twenties, that his three younger siblings had more in common.

Leo didn't know whether they had become closer, or if he became more distant. He had responsibilities, he didn't have as much free time as they did. He didn't mean to not be around, it just happened that way.

When he started to make an effort to be closer to them, join Mikey when he played video games (even if he was really bad at them), offer to see Raph's current motorcycle, or maybe just hang out with Donnie in his lab...they would be busy.

They didn't need a big brother anymore, they weren't kids. They needed a leader though, he could do that at least.

So he took the hint after lunch, even though he wanted to do nothing but watch TV. Something dumb and easy to follow because his head still ached. He acted like he didn't see it in their eyes, in how they held themselves and looked at him. He told them he was going for a run through the sewers.

The sewers became suffocating and he started feeling light headed so he went to the surface, deciding to run topside.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself, his teeth were vibrating and his head was hot. It wasn't fair that he could be shivering and sweating bullets at the same time. A gust of wind blew a mist of cold water on him and he pressed himself closer to the building, further under the metal overhang.

When it started to rain, it felt nice, it was in the mid fifties temperature wise and the cool rain on his head and shoulders was a relief. Then the rain turned into a downpour, and the downpour brought thunder. He was far away from home, a two hour run away to be exact. Even longer if he went through the sewers because down there it was a maze.

Then the hail came, the size of marbles and he was forced to take cover under this metal overhang. He could weather the weather, the hail would eventually let up and he could admit defeat then. He could crawl into the sewers and resign himself to a long walk back home, just as long as nothing else went wrong that evening.

Of course, that's when he hears the muffled screaming coming from the floor below.

Of course the overhang he was under was the little sheltered area with the roof access door just conveniently there, practically beckoning him into a fight.

"Looks like I found some company tonight after all," he quipped, pulling his lock picks from his belt with shaking fingers.

~o~0~o~

He knocked on the door.

Best case scenario, they would bail out the window, Leo would pick the lock, release the victim, most likely be attacked by the victim for being a monster, then he would make his exit.

Worst case scenario they answer the door and Leo punches a few people, ties them up, makes an anonymous call to the police after the victim flees in horror and then he makes his exit.

Sadly for them, they answered.

It was an unfair fight, he broke the first man's nose and before the second man could raise the gun he had unsafely tucked in the front of his jeans. Leo grabbed it out of his hand and threw it down the hall. He hit a pressure point on the man's neck and sent him to the floor tangled up with the first man.

What shocked Leo was the set up, it wasn't his first time stopping a rape. Usually, due to the sensitivity of the scene, it was Donnie and Leo who would intervene. Raph had issues controlling his temper, and while rapists were scum, murdering them wasn't justice.

As for Mikey, he was too sensitive for it. Not that they sheltered him from it completely, but there was a big difference between knowing what goes bump in the night, and seeing it.

This was a more involved set up, they had a room. This wasn't some back alley or parked car, this was a bed, with a young man tied down to it. He was crying and pulling at the ropes that pinned him to the metal bed frame. Leo only paused for a fraction of a second, mostly to hide his shock that this was a man, he had expected a woman. As he approached the bed the man struggled harder, making the frame rattle.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Leo said calmly, voice a little scratchy. "I'm here to save you." He soothed quietly, raising his hands and moving slowly. The man had duct tape over his mouth and as Leo started to cut away the rope the man lets out a guttural scream. "It's okay-" he tried to say before he felt a horrible pain in the back of his head and the world went dark.

~o~0~o~

He stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door. His legs finally give out and he hit the rug in front of the shower so hard it sent a shock wave up his spine, he grunted out in pain before he could stop himself.

That was when Donnie knocked and he quickly stood up gasping silently. "Leo, you alright?" his brother asked quietly.

Leo had arrived home late, too late, slipping past Mikey who was passed out on the couch was easy, even in his current state. "Yeah," he said, and to his own relief his voice sounded steady. "I just stubbed my toe is all, I'm about to take a shower, you'll have to use the other bathroom". Before any more questions could be tossed at him he cranked the shower on. The sound of the water hitting the inside of the curtain made his stomach twist and his heart thump painfully fast.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the sink. This is so stupid, someone just put the shower head back up wrong, he told himself. He reached his hand into the shower and pointed the nozzle away from the curtain and more into the tub. What the hell is wrong with me?

The hot water didn't take away the shaking, it didn't make his stomach feel like it wasn't stuffed with glass shards. Reluctantly, he slid his hand between his legs to inspect the damage, the first prod of his limp unmoving tail sent him buckling over. The water splashed off his shell and hit the the shower curtain and he flinched away, too fast, he lost his balance and fell. It was dumb turtle luck that he took every partially filled bottle of Master Splinters' shampoo with him in a vain attempt at catching himself.

"Leo!?" the voice of the last person he wanted to bust down the door to see him shaking, holding his broken tail and freaking out over loud noises, said.

"It's fine Raph, j-just slipped," his voice betrayed him.

"Open this door right now!" Raph said rattling the locked doorknob.

Leo tried to sit up but he was shaking hard, too hard to even crawl out of the tub if he wanted to. Shit he cursed to himself.

"Just give me a second!" he called out over the spray of water flooding over him. At least this water was warm and welcoming. He took a deep inhale of the humid air. There was no way he was getting out of the situation with his dignity completely intact.

Raph rattled the handle again. "Dammit, I'm going to count to ten," he warned.

The problem was his broken tail, which he, like his brothers, kept tucked up tight against their shells, wasn't moving on it's own. It was the biggest embarrassment about walking into the lair, his tail was just hanging down for the whole world to see.

"One."

It stayed in whatever position he placed it in though, they didn't need to actively clench their tails up against themselves. They just had to not move them once they tucked them up.

"Two."

That was a positive, it protected their cloaca's opening. A discreet horizontal slit just below the base of the inside of his tail. Unlike other reptiles that just had their discreet slit exposed to the world. All he had to do was tuck his tail up manually. That was it. A quick motion and it would be over.

"Three."

Touching my tail is what got me into this mess, he remembered. That one little prod had sent him buckling over, admittedly the thought of moving his broken tail made him cringe.

"Four."

Luckily the water had cleaned off most of the blood, he quickly ran his wet hands over the areas that still had any remaining. Really, even though he had six seconds to spare, he was procrastinating on touching his tail at all.

"Five."

The blood was gone.

"Six."

He gently gripped the outside of his tail and a small noise escaped the back of his throat.

"Seven."

He never heard eight.

~o~0~o~

There was a dull throb at the base of his spine, it almost matched his heart rate and every time it felt like a thick needle was being threaded up his tail bone. He felt himself twitching, involuntarily, the pain was shooting through his whole body, moving the thin sheet that was draped over him.

"Why is his leg twitching like that?" Mikey's voice asked.

Someone placed something cool and wet on his head and if he had the strength he would have sung his praises to them. Instead he let the relief flood through his boiling skull and the chill run through his body.

"He's very sick," Donnie said. "Extremely ill actually."

"With what?"

"I don't know, but right now we need to break this fever," Donnie said. He removed the wonderful wet cloth from his head and Leo wanted to moan out, or lift his hand and take it back. Didn't this person realize how badly he needed that rag? "His leg twitching while he sleeps is the least of our problems," he said over the noise of something being submerged in water and squeezed out from somewhere on the floor. "Leo might have already been ill before his run." The rag, colder now, returned and Leo's tune about the rag bringer and denier went back into the positive. "He likely got caught in the downpour, which made things worse.''

"Oh," Mikey said. "Yeah figures Leo would ignore his own body and go out for a run when he isn't feeling well," a hand rested on Leo's knee, his twitching knee. "Man are you sure that twitching is normal?"

At this Leo finally found enough strength to crack his eyes open.

"Hey Leo," Donnie said, taking the amazing rag away and securing the title of worst brother to ever exist.

"Oh my god, Donnie it you don't put the rag back he's going to break," Mikey said gently squeezing Leo's knee and gesturing to his face.

Donnie squeezed the rag out and folded it before placing it back on Leo's scalding forehead, earning him the title of best brother in the entire universe. "There, now stop having a fever and the rag will last longer," he said quietly.

It was the last thing he heard before closing his eyes again and letting himself fall into uneasy rest.

~o~0~o~

When he woke up again, someone else was snoring. How sick am I? he asked nobody because the answer was clear. If someone was in the room with him he was very ill. His head felt better, other areas of him felt just as bad or even worse, and now mother nature was calling.

He took a shaky inhale. There was a slight oversight in his whole tucking his tail up and taking it from there approach.

Eventually, no, inevitably, he would have to do what they all do and use the restroom. He would have to move his tail, it was four in the morning. The lair was literally full of ninjas, there was no way he was going to be able to let a single yelp out. He wasn't even sure what happened after he passed out in the shower, he just knew he had been successful in hiding it for the first time.

Now just for all the times afterwards.

He sat up and then quickly laid back down. Sitting was going to be off the table for a while it seemed, but at least he learned that while being alone, not in front of prying eyes. Laying back down, trying to even out his breathing he noticed the glass of water on his nightstand and gulped it down greedily.

Swallowing hurt, he probably had little to no voice, not that he was going to test that theory before trying to not sob on the toilet in two minutes.

Standing up caused the floor of his room to wobble up and down, he stumbled over to the door and braced himself against it. Fatigued and weak he opened the door and slipped into the hall. It was dumb luck that Mikey was the one sleeping on his floor and not Raph or Donnie. They would have woken up, and he didn't need anyone's pitying glances right then.

Lowering himself on the toilet wasn't great either, the rising dread of what he had to do just to go to the bathroom made his hands shake. The very existence of his broken tail was painful, forcefully straightening it out would be hell.

He lowered his hand between his legs again, gently, barely even touching his tail. Two things were very uncomfortable, his full bladder and his tender to the touch tail.

"Just one quick motion" he whispered to himself. He was glad he locked the bathroom door but it would do him little good if he passed out, pissed himself and was found by his brothers.

A last second thought crossed his mind to grab his toothbrush off the sink, it was in arms reach at least. He put the handle in his mouth and bit down. "Come on," he muttered around the handle.

He gripped the edge of the sink with one hand and grabbed his tail, for a second it wasn't his hand, it was Snake's hand, retching his tail back breaking it. Violently he removed his hand.

He couldn't breathe. He's dead, I killed him, he's dead, he tried to think but he couldn't stop sucking in air, it burned his throat, his head throb the edges of his vision were going dark. Don't pass out, don't pass out, shit, he scolded himself.

Snake was laughing in his ear, "that's right freak, beg!" he twisted his tail to the side and another wet crunch was barely heard before Leo screamed louder than he ever had in his life.

Something hot and warm trickled over his tail and he instinctively tried to clamp the muscles in his groin down. He was wetting himself, he realized unable to clamp off the stream dribbling out of him.

At least he was on the toilet.

His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but this was probably the best place in the world to piss all over his own tail. The pressure in his bladder draining almost made it okay, how the hell is pissing yourself acceptable? How weak and useless are you? he snapped at himself.

Cleaning himself up was still going to require moving his tail.

"Bladder one, dignity zero," he sighed.

~o~0~o~

The next few days were agonizing, his voice wouldn't rise much above a harsh whisper and his fever persisted. He was drinking water, lots of water, which was leading to more very painful moments in the bathroom. Regardless of whether or not he managed to move his tail before his bladder just couldn't take it anymore, he still had to move his tail. Every time it hurt, every time he had to spend five minutes just breathing.

It was worse when he has to pass a mixture of something more solid, the pressure passing through his slit, the torn up muscles being rubbed.

He sobs during those, silently, he let the tears fall down and he grabbed the edge of the sink with a death grip. Gasping for air and praying to every God in all the religions of the world that no one would hear him. Luckily nobody had ever interrupted him during those times. If they did, there would be no way he would be able to answer with a steady voice.

"How are you feeling, man?" Raph asked, trading shifts with Donnie a week and a half into his illness. He didn't like this, all the attention, he wanted them to leave him alone.

It wasn't like they ever want to spend time with him when he's not sick, it was starting to get on his nerves, the hoovering.

Raph grimaced at his lack of reaction, Leo wondered if he had zoned out for a few seconds. It must be the bug he caught, fogging up his brain. "I brought you some water, you need to drink it."

He wanted to tell Raph to get out, technically he could go days without water, but his brothers were persistent, he was taking a piss four or five times a day. It just translated to more misery. Painfully he rolled over onto his side so he was facing the wall. All he wanted to do was sleep, he was exhausted.

His stomach clenched painfully.

He was starving too but there was a direct correlation between anything solid and those horrible bathroom sessions.

The side of the bed lowered as Raph sat down, their carapaces touched, only separated by the maroon quilt Leo was tucked under. "Well I ain't movin' until you drink something, Donnie and Mikey said you haven't had a drop of liquid all day."

Leo sighed, pulled the covers over his head. You're pathetic he berated himself, scared of going to the bathroom?

"Come on man…" Raph lightly punched his shell and Leo jutted, not expecting the sudden vibration in his spine. Then he held his breath because Raph wasn't saying anything and he could feel his brother's hazel brown eyes studying him.

"Orange juice," he croaked out. If he had to drink something, might as well have some calories. He turned his head to see Raph looking at him with concern.

For whatever reason Raph nodded begrudgingly, and in a blink of an eye Leo felt a nudge on his shoulder. "Here," he said, he was standing up holding the orange juice.

He blinked, he figured he fell asleep in the time Raph went to pour him a glass of orange juice. "Nightstand." He whispered but Raph shook his head.

"Yeah, that's where glasses of water go to be ignored," he huffed. "C'mon, sit up, have a few sips and I'll leave you alone like you so obviously want."

Guess he has a brain after all Leo thought bitterly. There was just one problem, he couldn't sit up, he could lay flat or stand or be in any position that did not put pressure on his rear end. Of course, there was no way to explain any of that. There was no way he could explain what had happened.

Nothing happened.

That's what happened.

"Leo." Raph said again, "Dude." he gestured to the glass in his hand. "I can guarantee you, I am more stubborn than you, I ain't gonna stop bugging you until you drink this orange juice."

This is pathetic, he cringed at Raph's words.

"I can't believe I'd ever have to force some common sense into you."

I can't even sit

"Don't make me force this down your throat."

Those words made his breath hitch, he quickly stood up, in one fluid motion he went from laying down to standing, his maroon blanket pooled on the floor at his feet. He wobbled a little and his vision went out for a few moments, he steadied himself on the nightstand.

Raph placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, "Whoa Leo-"

He smacked Raph's hand away and took the orange juice, somehow didn't spill a single drop and downed the whole glass before handing it back to Raph. They had a brief stare down, Leo's face pinched in anger, Raph's sketched in concern. It made him even angrier seeing that expression so he brushed past his brother towards the hall.

"Where you going?" Raph asked.

Leo stopped, held onto the door frame while grinding his teeth together. "The bathroom," he croaked out, then he looked over his shoulder. "Do you need to see that as well?"

No one bothered him the rest of the day.

~o~0~o~

Two weeks. It had taken two weeks for his cold to pass. Leo forced things to go back to normal, but for whatever reason that night wouldn't leave him alone. Part of him wasn't sure it even happened. Then he would go to the bathroom, try to move his tail down and receive a throbbing ache before moving it himself.

Even with the broken tail it was like his mind was trying to erase all evidence of the night. He felt like he was going crazy, had he even left the sewers that day? Maybe his mind fabricated the whole thing? Why?

There were other things he couldn't explain, but sounds were louder. A pot of boiling water was louder than the voices on TV, footsteps were like thunder while the voice of his father right in front of him sounded miles away.

He couldn't concentrate, he wondered if this was like what Mikey had. ADHD or something. Could he even develop ADHD seemingly out of nowhere?

"Leonardo," his father said. "Is there something on your mind?"

They were in the Dojo, when had they gone from the breakfast table to the dojo? His brothers were paused in their starting positions for a kata. He was just standing there, his arms felt like lead. His brothers were staring at him, two sets of hazel brown eyes and one set of blue. What was wrong with him?

"Leonardo?" his father said, tapping him lightly on the forehead with his staff.

He jutted back, not in pain but because he was legitimately startled. When did he start zoning out like this. Why couldn't he stop? His brothers chuckled and then stopped when their father's eyes and staff turned their direction.

"S-Sorry Sensei," Leo said, he recognized the kata starting position in his brothers and took it. "I must have gotten distracted."

The rat studied him for a moment but dropped it, they continued their training.

~o~0~o~

The foggy mind had to be a lingering effect of his cold, but it only got worse. Leo prided himself on being timely, even without a clock. As children he could always weird out his siblings by guessing the time and usually being within five minutes of it.

Now he could only imagine this was how Mikey felt every time he looked at the clock. His sense of time was completely off, a second would pass in his mind but the clock would tell him he spent thirty minutes standing in the Dojo not even moving.

Two and a half weeks since nothing happened to him and he felt like he was losing his mind.

"Leo, are you okay?" Donnie asked him during one of his moments, he placed a hand on his shoulder and Leo's brain misfired. He stared at his brother's hand like he couldn't figure out what it was doing there or why it made his heart flip over and slingshot into his throat. "Leo?"

"Didn't sleep well last night," he lied, taking his eyes off Donnie's hand and staring into the concerned eyes of his younger sibling.

His brother pinched his brows together, "I asked you than three minutes ago, are you sure you're o-"

"I'm fine." He said harsher, shrugging Donnie's hand off. "Mind your own business."

~o~0~o~

Three weeks after nothing happened and he starts having these moments where he can't breathe. Something heavy sits on his chest and sucks all the air out of him, it's like trying to breathe in a vacuum, maybe his lunges will collapse and foam out of his mouth.

They're patrolling before it happens, a scream breaks through the air, a desperate plea by some woman to just be mugged and then they're staring down an alleyway. Looking at a scene they've seen before, same roles different actors.

Of course they do what they always do, they ruin the mood, the victim goes running the would be rapists get traumatized in a whole different way. Learning the hard way that mutants break bones and don't make idle threats.

It's a good night, and everything is fine, in the end. He can feel the panic rising, when they get home he locks himself in his room and collapses on the floor, gasping like a fish. Shaking violently and fear ripping through all his limbs. He doesn't feel safe, he can feel their hands on his thighs, their fingers pushing inside of him.

Their hysterical laughter.

He pukes on the floor.

~o~0~o~

Three weeks after nothing happened and his brothers keep wanting to talk to him. They want to talk to him in private they say, he doesn't know why but he can't concentrate. He's not home half the time even though he never leaves the lair except to patrol. His brain checks out, doesn't leave a note and clocks back in randomly.

There was a burning sensation in his mouth, he zoned out while brushing his teeth, someone was knocking on the door. How long had he been standing there? He can't think. When did he become a prisoner in his own mind?

Quickly, he rinsed his mouth out, and put his toothbrush back. He opened the door to find Mikey standing their, irritated. "Dude! I've been knocking for like five minutes!" he said, poking Leo in the chest.

He pushed his brother's hand away and walked towards his room only to have Mikey grab his shoulder and spin him around. "Are you crying?" he asked slightly shocked.

Leo rubbed a hand over his face, his face was wet. When did he cry? He didn't remember crying, but his eyes felt sore and his face was wet. He turned around and walked to his room and locked the door behind him.

What the hell is wrong with me?

~o~0~o~

He started having nightmares about the thing that didn't happen. He would wake up with his sheets twisted around him tying him down to his bed. Every time he would struggle, out of breath, whimpering that he wanted it to stop.

The walls of their bedrooms were thick, it was a good thing too. Leo never had nightmares before, he was always the big brother, the one who's door was always ajar for little brothers when they had nightmares.

Now, he wished he could crawl into someone's bed like he was seven. He wanted someone to tell him it was all in his head, the men touching him weren't real. He wanted someone to tell him that monsters only exist in story books. He wanted someone to tell him they'd protect him.

He got up, the cool air hit his sweat coated body and made him shudder. It was four in the morning, it didn't feel like four in the morning.

It felt like he was standing under an overhang in the hail with cold water misting over him.

It took a few seconds for him to realize a location is not a time, and that nothing happened there anyways. He was in the kitchen, how he got there he didn't know, he didn't remember walking into the kitchen, opening a cupboard and taking down a glass.

He didn't remember putting it under the faucet and turning the faucet on. He was staring at the water, overflowing from the glass, pouring over his hand and wrist. It was ice cold, the water hits the metal sink making that horrible drumming noise. He should move, he should turn the faucet off and take the glass of water back to his room. Why can't he move?

Another hand turned the faucet off. Another voice asked what he was doing. He doesn't respond, he dumps some of the water out so it's not full to the brim and he leaves the water and the hand and the voice behind.

~o~0~o~

One month after nothing happened and he can't escape his own mind, his thoughts eat at him and it doesn't feel like a month has gone by. It feels like mere hours, he can feel Snake tracing his fingers down his plastron promising to make him squeal. He can smell Mondo's breath as he hovers over him, he can see Slash examining his katanas in the yellow light of that hotel room.

He can still feel the ropes biting into his skin, rough and wet with the blood of their previous victim. You couldn't even save that boy, he dropped the plate he was trying to set in the drainer, it smashed on the floor. He dropped to his knees and started to pick up the ceramic shards. This was Mikey's favorite plate, it was a stupid gag plate, had little ceramic pizzas around the edge.

It was the ugliest plate he'd ever seen and he'd never admit how much he enjoyed seeing Raph and Donnie's resigned faces every time Mikey took down his plate. He would hum the pizza plate song. What kind of person makes songs up for actions? Mikey.

You can't do anything right, the ceramic bit his fingers, you can't even do the dishes anymore, you're pathetic.

He was shaking hard, he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. He couldn't, it hurt, it still hurt to go to the bathroom. This was Mikey's favorite plate, he already doesn't like you.

Somewhere in the background the water was still running. His head hurts, I didn't mean to, it was an accident, he tries to tell his invisible accuser.

You didn't mean to get raped either but here you are.

He balled his hand into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut, not now not now oh god not now, he tried to beg the sensation of another fit away, another world ending panic attack. Someone came into the kitchen, someone was touching his shell. Get off of me, he screamed, with his jaw clenched and his lips sealed. There's something warm in his hand, it was blood.

Donnie is yelling at him, you're such a failure, trying to get him to open his fist, he's yelling at him but he can't hear the words. The water is still running, hitting the metal sink, the metal overhang. There's a million needles in his right hand, he can't move, he can only wait for the storm to pass.

~o~0~o~

One month and four days after nothing happened, he can sit on his own legs, in the seiza position. It's not as comfortable as before nothing happened but is family doesn't question him unlike when he would just stand. That's when the news report came on.

Someone finally found the scene. He knew it would happen, but like all things it wasn't visible through the fog in his head.

He was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. Raph was lounged on the couch, Master Splinter was in his chair. He must have zoned out again, he didn't remember his father changing the channel to his TV dramas, the news jingle brought him out of it.

"The New York Police Department is asking for the public's help after four people were found dead in a hotel room on West Seventy First Street," the news anchor said. Raph sighed.

"How desperate are they to ask average people to solve a murder?" he huffed.

Master Splinter gave his son a studying glance, "Raphael, show some respect, four people were taken from this world."

"Police officials say the incident took place a month ago but the scene was not found for another two weeks when hotel manager Eric Webb said he had entered the locked room with the intent of kicking his guests out. They had overstayed, and were twenty four hours over their check out time. When he found three men, dead and one dismembered man in the bathtub he immediately contacted police," she reported. "The three men were wanted fugitives. Aldolfo 'Slash' Nicotera, Napoleone 'Snake' Lazzari, and Oscae 'Mondo' Nicchi were former members of the gang 'The Sabors'. The identity of the man dismembered in the bathtub is not being released at this time."

Raph nudged his shell. "This is why we need to patrol more often, there are people out there getting sliced up and we're in here sitting on our asses."

He rubs his left thumb over his right hand before responding, it was a nervous thing he'd been doing. Petting himself on the back of the hand, playing with his fingers. Sometimes it reminded him where he was. Sometimes it was just enough to remind him of where he wasn't . "Okay," he said. He didn't know when his voice had become so dead. He didn't know when he started letting Raph say stuff like they don't patrol enough.

It wasn't up to Raph when they patrolled, it was up to him. He didn't have the energy to voice that. He wondered about the kid in the bathtub, he wondered why he had to die too.

He wondered if maybe he was the lucky one.

~o~0~o~

One month one week two days after nothing happened, one of his nightmares finally gets him in trouble, Donnie found him, curled in a ball, hands clutching his skull and sweating profusely. He doesn't ask what it's about, but he decides to sit cross legged on the end of Leo's bed. He fiddled with his phone.

The soft blue glow and the weight of his legs was enough to fall back to sleep.

In the morning, he doesn't know if he imagined Donnie waking him up from a nightmare or not, but he does know someone turned off his alarm. Instead of waking up at noon, like he usually would, he woke up at five in the evening.

Embarrassed and angry he stumbled into the bathroom to do what he had to, he locked the door and instead of a pep talk he told himself he deserved the pain.

It made it easier to move his tail back.

"Hey Leo, you feeling any better?" Donnie asked quietly when he entered the kitchen, he didn't know where Raph and Mikey were, or why Donnie just happened to be in the kitchen. "You didn't look too good last night."

He can't respond so he nodded instead. He can't remember the last time he's said more than a few words. The orders he gives while patrolling aren't conversations that count. "I'm fine."

"You've lost weight," Donnie pressed.

"I had some weight to lose," he countered.

"No...you didn't."

~o~0~o~

One month and two weeks after nothing happened, he can take a shit without crying. It's the small things in life he decides. He can't stand up without getting dizzy. He doesn't care. He doesn't have the energy to care.

Sometimes he considers drinking coffee like Donnie, but coffee is a diuretic. He doesn't need a diuretic.

They couldn't physically force him to eat but they pestered him about his weight. He knows he should eat, but even if it didn't hurt leaving, he still doesn't have an appetite.

"Hey bro, you doing anything later?" Mikey asked, cartwheeling into the kitchen for whatever reason. He shouldn't be doing cartwheels in such a cramped area. Leo doesn't have it in him to care enough to tell him. He doesn't need to be anymore of a killjoy. "We want to talk to you about something, but you keep shrugging us off," he said.

He was eating cereal, it was easier to just drink the milk and dump the solid stuff in the trash if he ate after training. His brothers would eat before training. Most of the time his brothers were eager to do something by themselves after training, Leo would be left alone to eat breakfast.

He didn't know when he started strategizing this type of stuff but he can't stop.

It hurt to sit in the wooden chairs, he was resting most of his weight on his elbows so there would be less pressure on his bottom. Nothing turned off his will to eat like the constant dull pain that radiated up his spine every time he sat down. Mikey was waiting for him to answer.

How long was he zoned out again? When would this fog clear?

"About what?" he asked, swallowing some milk and stirring his cereal.

Mikey drummed his fingers on the table and said something, Leo couldn't hear him over the tapping. His spoon bumping the inside of his cereal bowl is loud too. Why are people so quiet and noises so loud? "Leo?"

His brother is looking at him like he asked a question, the zoning out would be embarrassing if he cared. Mikey grimaced.

"I guess you have more important things on your mind huh?" he said sounding far too down.

He needs me.

No one needs you.

"I guess," Leo said, at some point he stopped stirring his cereal, so he turned back to his bowl and away from Mikey and moved soggy cornflakes around until his little brother left. He didn't mean to ignore the way Mikey's face fell, he was just too tired to even begin to know how to fix it.

~o~0~o~

One month, three weeks and one day after nothing happened the voice in his head becomes the only voice, and it's with him constantly. The voice is as constant as the pain in his tail bone and it weighs his heart down. It makes it hard to breathe, he falls into a routine, it's the only thing he has to cling on to.

It had been a week since Mikey tried to talk to him.

It had been seven weeks since nothing happened.

The weight loss isn't a big deal, but the exhaustion that comes from the lack of food is. His arms feel weighed down. Someone tied sandbags to his shell and cranked up the gravity. Going up the stairs takes his breath away and makes his heart thud painfully in his chest.

It becomes monotonous. Wake up, train, fake breakfast, meditate, train alone with Master Splinter, fake lunch, free time, patrol, dinner, free time, bed.

He thinks maybe he's said a paragraph's worth of dialogue in the past week. Talking hurts his head, but he finds himself talking to himself more and more. Not out loud, but there are full blown yelling matches taking place inside his skull. Rattling his eyeballs and searing his nerves. Yelling matches that would put Raph to shame. The only difference is even if he doesn't have the energy to respond, the voices still yell, and they hurt.

They hurt so much and it's a pain he's never had to deal with. It's an injury he can't locate or put a bandage on.

"I want to record everyone's weight today," Donnie said after training. He was really asking Master Splinter to back him up.

Distantly he realizes that he needs to divert that train of thought, "I was thinking we could go to that re-purpose lot today, Donnie." All his brothers look at him with shock. It wasn't like him to allow for a junk run in the daylight.

The conflict in Donnie's eyes is immediate, but they go to the dump anyways.

It isn't until they're leaping over buildings and climbing up fire escapes that he regrets only having two glasses of orange juice in the past three days. There's black framing the edges of his vision and he's fallen behind his brothers.

It's okay because it's not really a mission.

I'll find a new ugly plate for Mikey he thinks, shaking his head and blinking his eyes as if the darkness was physical. You think he'll forgive you so easily?

The re-purpose lot, called Bernie's Best, is a huge lot with a bunch of junk. Bernie is paid to clean out abandoned storage units that don't sell in auction. Most of the stuff is what an elderly relative left behind and the kids didn't keep up with the payments.

Most of it is knickknacks, on principle he doesn't like accompanying his brother's on these trips. It's a necessary evil to court the line between thievery and survival. They show respect by not taking things Bernie could easily sell, or stuff inside locked units.

Donnie finds a duffel bag worth of miscellaneous electronics. He assures Leo that Bernie probably will scrap them as it would take a computer engineer to do anything with them. Computer engineers don't shop at places like Bernie's Best.

Mikey finds nothing because Bernie's overweight German Shepard guard dog enjoys belly rubs more than protecting his owner's property.

"Hey!" Raph snaps his fingers in his face, "Daydreamer, we're leaving." The action takes his eyes away from the overturned metal bed frame he had been staring at.

They travel home and Raph and Donnie toss around the idea of making the former a motorcycle. His legs feel even heavier than they did this morning and he's more aware of the traffic on the roads below than the conversations of his brothers. They descend a fire escape into an alleyway and the rattling brings him back to the metal bed frame.

He drops down next to his brothers, Mikey holds the manhole up and beckons for Leo to go down, instead he takes one step forward and falls straight onto the cement. His whole body forgot how to walk, he tries to get up but he's too weak to get his arms under himself.

There are cars honking in the distance and three sets of hands on him.

He doesn't have it in him to stay conscious anymore.

~o~0~o~

"...underweight…"

"...I don't see him eating...almost two months…"

"...did you talk to him...I want him to join…"

The voices fade out and he's vaguely aware of the weight of a blanket draped over him and the comfort of his own bed. This time he sleeps instead of passing out.

When he wakes up again Mikey is on his bed, with his shell against the wall and his feet hanging over the edge. There's plenty of room for him because Leo is curled up in a ball. Mikey has his headphones in, he's watching something on a tablet Donnie invented.

They ask him what happened. In all forms and ways they can. "Nothing happened," he drones, a broken record.

They don't believe him, he can't find it in himself to care. Pathetic, he thinks, because it hurts to be awake, and he can't bare to be alone.

Two months after nothing happened and he can't get out of bed. His mind roars and his body aches in a way he can't describe. Training could never leave him this exhausted. His spirit was gone, his will power nonexistent. Every time he blinks the time on the clock jumps an hour or two.

The memories weave themselves into unforgiving ropes. They bite into his skin and no matter how tightly he holds himself together the ropes hold him open. The men pull on his tail. He loses his mind, he can feel them constantly. Ghosts that he doesn't believe in dragging their nails on his skin. Mocking his pain.

His brothers bring him water, food. Donnie peels the blankets away from him and puts the cold metal stethoscope on his chest. A mistake is made once, when Donnie is certain there's a physical injury, his hand brushed the inside of his thigh when he moves to try and listen to Leo's lower intestines.

In a blackout he gives Donnie a black eye and a split lip. He locks himself into the bathroom and stares into the mirror at his sunken in face. You smell like shit, the voice says, and the voice is right. He can't bring himself to shower, or leave his bed. He only moves to go to the bathroom.

When did being alive start to hurt?

Raph picks the lock, busts in the room and grabs him by the shoulders. He throws him out into the hall and Raph has fire in his eyes. "You fucking hit D?" he yells full of rage and disgust.

He's too weak to get up right away, his legs shake. He can't remember the last time he ate, the edges of his vision are framed in darkness.

I didn't mean to, he wants to say but Raph pins him to the floor, sitting on his chest and panic takes over.

"We don't jus' fucking hit each other he was just trying to help your no good ass!" he hollers, and it drills into his skull but he can't throw Raph off of himself. In that moment he is terrified. The men are on him.

"Please please-" he begs in a pained whisper because it can't happen again. He can feel their fingers again, he can feel them scissoring him open. One laying their weight over his middle to keep him from bucking.

"Do you think I can fit my whole fist in him?"

"I don't know man! Go for it"

"Would you like that freak? Would you like me to fist you?"

"Fist him man, he fucked up our fun after all!"

"Imagine the tape!"

"This shit will sell better that the stuff we were going to do with that Sissy!"

"Look at him struggling!"

"I think he's crying!"

"He's crying, why is he crying?" Mikey asked as Leo sucks in air.

He's curled into a ball with his hands over his head. Legs twisted around each other. He was sobbing. Raph looks down at him confused. Mikey touches him, trying to console him. He curls further into himself with a whimper. "Please no more. No no no no I-" he sobs harder. He wants them to leave. He doesn't want to sob in front of his brothers.

~o~0~o~

In the middle of the night, after he takes a shower for the first time in a long time and returns to his bed to find crisp new sheets and freshly laundered pillows he decides he has to tell someone. They care. Someone cares. Someone has got to care.

No one cares about you, he thinks on reflex. For every kind thought there is an equally mean thought.

He chooses Donnie because he hit him and his little brother did nothing wrong. Silently he walks to his brothers door. Unsure of what to say, Donnie hadn't asked for an apology. All he did was help Leo into the bathroom and push the others away.

The hum of several old computers radiates through the door. Chugging along, binary cogs moving the blood of technology only Donnie really understands. Leo stands there in that white noise, let's that peace make a home in his chest. The calm constant noise fills him up, pulls his hand to the door and curls his fingers into a fist.

He can't do it.

Instead of knocking he rests his forehead on the wooden door and sighs. There was no one to turn to. Nothing happened so there was nothing to say. Again, a door, a choice, and no clue what was behind it once he opened it.

"My son," Splinter speaks into the hall and it's only because he is exhausted that he doesn't jump. "A word?"

Hesitantly he steps away from Donnie's door and follows his father. There among the candles melting into the floor his life is turned on its heels. His father says plenty of things, things that don't break through to him. Lost somewhere in the hum that still vibrates around him until it's broken up. Until it's hail on the metal over hang.

He was caught up on one sentence. "You're going to Central America."

He would leave immediately.

His bag was packed for him.

He wasn't allowed to say goodbye.

In a far off place in his mind, there's a muffled scream complimented by a rattling bed frame. With a bow to his father he tightens the rope, shoves the gag down his throat, and chokes on what's to come.

A/N on August 1st, 2020: Chapter 2-7 are already on AO3 under the same title and username if you wanna read ahead.