Chapter Five: Trust Issues

{Donnie}

It's quiet with everyone gone—especially with Mikey, the notorious noise-maker, fast asleep beneath the heat lamp on my laboratory table. Tired, aching, and exhausted in every aspect of the word, I lean into the back of my chair and let my heavy lids droop in an effort to sleep…but it's fitful and restless. I keep slipping into shallow nightmares of mistakes, of bandaging his wounds too tight, of overlooking an infectious spot, or not cleaning the burn sites well enough. My tired eyes continue to peel open so I can check over and over again in an attempt to dismiss the doubtful thoughts, but it doesn't help much. This always happens when I'm in charge of doctoring one of the guys.

And finally, after another hour of battling my worrisome thinking, I begin to drift off into actual sleep… But then the door opens, and Leo and Raph poke their heads through.

I glance at them with one eye open, but as I quickly note their condition, I sit up in my chair. They're both soaked, their wrappings dirtied and washed with the tinge of faded blood, and they're covered in fresh bruises and cuts. Raph's nose is crusted over with dried blood, and Leo keeps rubbing his jaw idly, like it hurts.

"What happened to you two?"

"Sparring," Leo says, shrugging. I roll my eyes and shake my head. Honestly, these two really need to find another way to talk to each other.

Raph pushes his way through the door first and grins smugly. "Leo lost."

I drum my fingers along the edge of the table and glance over Leo's many abrasions. "I can see that."

He shoots a glare at me as he follows Raph in. "He jumped me—it was hardly fair."

"Didn't Sensei lecture you not too long ago about being 'fair'?" Raph sneers. "Or do I need to go tell him you haven't learned your lesson yet?"

"No, no," Leo spurts. "I'm good."

Raph chuckles. "Thought so. So Donnie, how's Mikey doing?"

I take a deep breath and push off of my chair. "His vitals are stabilized, and I've managed to bring up his body temperature." I stand at the table and adjust the small heat lamp. "Other than that, there's little else we can do other than cleaning his wounds and changing his dressing every day. The burns could take a while to show any improvement, and they'll most likely get worse before they get better. We'll have to keep an eye out for infection."

Leo and Raph both stand on the opposite end of the table, staring down at our sleeping little brother.

"He doesn't look like he's in pain, at least," Raph mutters. "Couldn't we try, you know, waking him up?"

I shake my head. "Not a good idea. We don't need him going into shock again, and besides, he needs the rest more than anything. We'll just have to wait."

Raph frowns. "Yeah, I'm not too good at that."

"We know," Leo murmurs. Raph growls at him and pulls back his arm to slug our blue-banded brother, but I throw a bloody strip of cloth at him before he can hit Leo.

"Not in here," I say loudly. Well, as loud as I can with Mikey sleeping right there. "You two can go beat each other up somewhere else."

Raph's face scrunches in disgust as he brushes off the dirty bandage, and he rolls his shoulders. "Sounds good to me."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass." Leo gives Mikey a gentle pat on the head. "Thanks, Donnie. I'll see you guys in a few hours." I nod in response and he turns to leave, but Raph's at his heels before he can get out the door.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Leo glares accusingly over his shoulder. "To go finish meditating."

Raph's eyes widen incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." He opens up the door and steps outside. "And don't even think about following me again."

I can hear Raph scoff as he follows Leo out. "Or what?"

Leo flashes a grin and raises his brow. "Or I'll tell Sensei."

That stumps the hot-tempered turtle, and he growls, irritated. "Oh, 'cause that's mature."

I smile to myself, shaking my head in humorous disbelief and listening to their conversation as it's carried beyond the lab.

"Hey man, Sensei told me to. I have some things to work out, alright? So if you'll excuse me…"

There's a brief moment of silence while I assume Leo walks out, most likely leaving Raph standing there with his forehead vein visibly pulsing in annoyance.

"You're not meditating, you're napping!" Raph shouts a moment later. "I know the difference!"

~T~

{Leo}

Okay, so maybe I did fall asleep five minutes into my reflection, but he can't prove it. Besides, it's not like Sensei can tell the difference.

But the day went by so slow, it reminded me of when I got an arrow stuck in my calf and Donnie had to pull it out millimeter by millimeter. There was nothing to do but go off by myself and try to focus on what Sensei said, but I couldn't even do that…hence the napping. After my conversation with Raph—if you could call it that—I just felt more pent up. I understand why he was upset, and I know he's right. But even with all of that, even with him offering to share the burden, I still feel off. I don't want to say that I feel alone, because I know I have my family, but still, somehow, I am alone in a sense. There's only so much of the burden I can share, and while Raph had said I make them feel like the burden, it's really the opposite. I feel like the burden. Of course, they don't help when they refuse to listen to me or talk back, but most of it is me, and no amount of brotherly fights and therapeutic talks will ever change that.

But there is someone who helps; someone I've been itching to talk to all day as I wait for the night to come. And finally, after such a painstakingly long time, the sun dips down and cloaks the city in darkness. I'm already geared up and ready to get to the surface, but I know I have to hide it from my brothers. There are some things they won't ever understand.

And so, after making sure Sensei's asleep and my brothers are otherwise occupied, I sneak out of the lair and move through the sewers, making sure to take extra turns to divert anyone who might be following me, and I escape to the surface.

...

The night wanes on. I've stopped pacing and opted for sitting along the edge of the building, tapping my fingers absently to some stray tune weaving through my thoughts. It doesn't matter where I go: I know that if I sit and wait long enough, she'll turn up. She always does.

And after another stretch of time I haven't cared to count, my ears catch the faint sound of her soft footsteps amongst the bustle of night-life traffic and noise. I lift my head and smile to myself.

"Karai."

"Leo." She walks up behind me and stops, still out of my sight. I've never kept my back to an enemy, but Karai is different. She's had too many opportunities to kill me and hasn't. She's possible the only person I will knowingly allow to sneak up on me and not do anything about it—heck, I don't even let my brothers do that. And there's something exhilarating about waiting to see what she's going to do.

She waits at my back for a moment, probably trying to read me and determine if we're going to fight at all or not. But I keep still and wait for her to move slowly to my side and sit down next to me. I don't look at her and she doesn't look at me. We both stare out at the city before us, at the twinkling lights and the cars moving through the streets so far below. She lets her legs dangle over the edge and pulls something out of her belt.

"I found something for you." I glance at her as she hands me the object, and my eyes quickly widen as I realize what it is.

"Mikey's T-phone?" I ask dumbly. "Where'd you get this?"

She shrugs casually. "Around."

My eyes narrow as I search her face for answers. "Why were you out at the docks?"

She smiles and her gaze flickers to mine for a split second. "I don't believe that's any of your business, Leo."

"He almost died," I bite. "I think that makes it my business."

She stretches her arms and yawns, like she couldn't care less, and a small fire sparks to life in my gut. She looks at me for a moment, most likely noting the tension in my body, and her lips tug up into a half-smile.

"Relax—it's not like I had anything to do with it. I just found it on the ground and thought you might want it back."

I arch a brow. "Uh-huh."

I don't think she's lying, but she's not being entirely truthful, either. I reach back and slide one of my swords out from its sheath. And then, holding her gaze, I place the phone down on the concrete roof and smash it to pieces with the hilt of my katana. Her eyes grow slightly, a gesture I almost don't pick up on.

"Just in case you had any ideas about tracking me or blowing me up or something," I explain with a polite smile. She grins and chuckles.

"Whatever, Leo."

Silence consumes the next few minutes. We both sit there and watch life move beneath us until she breaks the trance with a question that surprises me.

"Is he okay?"

I look up at her. "What?"

"Your brother," she clarifies. "Is he okay?"

It takes me a moment to formulate a response. "Uh, yeah. I mean, he's alive…" I trail off and avert my eyes to the city streets. "Donnie says he'll take a while to heal. He got burned pretty bad, and he still hasn't woken up...but he'll be okay."

I'm not looking at her, but I know she's looking at me. The weight of her gaze is heavy and uncomfortable and I keep my eyes elsewhere, hoping she'll stop before I start to sweat.

"Something else is wrong," she presses. "What is it?" I pretend to be distracted by the sights below, but she doesn't drop anything easily. "Leo."

It's probably a creeper-level weird, but I like hearing her say my name. And it's funny, because she always makes it sound like a threat.

A mischievous smile spreads my lips and I stand up, unsheathing my katanas. "Beat me and I'll tell you."

She looks up, her brow arched in amusement, and smiles back. Rising to her feet, she slips her sword out from the sheath on her hip. "Deal."

And then the world makes sense again. We go at it, jumping back and forth across the rooftops, lashing out with swords that gleam in the moonlight. My thoughts melt away and everything stops until it's just her and I, dancing to a song only we know, our feet moving in unison, our blades singing across one another as we fight. The motion is a rhythm; familiar, exciting, comforting—something that lets my shell break and collapse around me with every slash, every pivot and tumble until all my worries and concerns drip away from me. I feel so much lighter, so much faster. I don't have to think about anything.

Our battle takes us from building to building. Through pivots, tumbles, stabs, and twists, we engage one another in a game I've grown so fond of. I twirl my swords overhead, dodging her well-placed strikes, flipping backwards through the fire escapes and running up the pipes lining the high-risers. The only sound is our breath, matched in pace and depth, and our blades clashing in the night. Sweat drips down my brow and my muscles begin to burn under the pressure, but I keep pushing myself. Sparring with her is somehow more intense than any other training I've done. I don't know if it's because she's really trying to hurt me or because she's just as pressed and focused as I am. She's unpredictable, raw, cunning, and cruel—supposedly the exact opposite of me, and yet, there's a connection. A bond I can't seem to shake. I look at her and I see myself, but in a different light. I see someone lost at the mercy of the waves, fighting and pushing simply because the alternative is to drown. We may be in two separate oceans, but we're both struggling to find a grip on solid ground.

I just can't get her out of my head. She's the one thing in my life I have absolutely no control over, and it thrills me to no end.

Time slips through my fingers as we fight. Precious time, lost in the sweat that drips from our bodies and the thin lines of blood we draw in teasing threats to best one another. I wait until my muscles are the aching equivalent to limp noodles before I finally allow her to trip me up. I hate losing, but I like the confident, smug look she gets on her face when she thinks she's beaten me. And of course, allowing myself to lose before she really actually beats me keeps my pride intact.

I force myself to slow down long enough for her to sweep my legs out from under me. I hit the hard, cold concrete and follow the deadly flash of light of her sword as she points it at my throat. I raise my hands in surrender, smiling softly, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"You did that...on purpose," she pants. "Didn't you?"

I shrug. "Maybe."

She kicks me in the shin. Hard. I try to conceal my pain and pass it off through a simple wince as I push myself to my feet.

"So you gonna tell me or what?" she asks, leaning against ventilation system.

I slip my swords into their sheaths on the back of my shell with a satisfyingly familiar shhee. "Huh," I mutter, tapping my chin. "You know what? I must've forgotten."

She lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head. "I should stab you."

"Well that would be awfully ambitious of you," I tease. "Same time tomorrow?"

She purses her lips and puts her sword away. "You know, I think I'm busy tomorrow."

I scoff. "Doing what?"

She flashes a grin that sends a cold shiver down my spine. "That would be spoiling the fun, now wouldn't it?"

She moves to leap off the rooftop in one of her theatrical exits, but I bite my lip and call after her.

"Uh…Karai?" I ask sheepishly. She stops on the building's edge and glances back at me. Her eyes glint in the moonlight, dark and laced with suspicion and curiosity.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh, didn't really forget." I rub the back of my neck and avoid eye contact. "I mean, if you're not busy—but I totally get it if you are, I just—"

"Spit it out, Fearless." The nickname shocks me. Only Raph ever calls me that, which means she must've overheard him at some point in our patrols. The thought turns slowly in my mind and grows, like a snowball rolling down a hill. Does that mean she's been following us? How long? And where? What has she seen and heard?

Not now, don't think about it now, I mentally scold. You should have expected it anyway.

I swallow and try to shake off the idea. "Could we just sit down and talk for a bit?"

Her facial features shift as she tries to detect the threat that isn't there. "What for?"

I shrug. "I don't know… I just feel like I need to talk to someone. You know, other than my brothers."

She eyes me warily before sighing and hopping down from the roof's edge. "Alright, but the second I get bored, I'm out."

And so we sit down along the ledge of the high rise, right back where we started, and despite all of the warning bells going off in my head, I tell her everything. I tell her about finding Mikey, about facing Sensei, fighting Raph, and all the thoughts swirling in my head about not being good enough. Everything I've ever been taught about concealing information from the enemy is forgotten as the words spill from my mouth, and slowly, all my weaknesses are exposed to the most dangerous person I know.

She sits beside me in silence, listening intently, her eyes on the streets below. I clench my fists in my lap as I finish and wait for her to say something. Seconds go by, but they may as well be lifetimes from my position. I take a deep breath and shake my head, reprimanding myself.

"Sorry, I know that was a lot. I shouldn't have gone off like that…"

She stands to her feet and a sliver of fear courses through me. I must've bored her. Of course, she doesn't want to hear any of this—she just comes here for…

I pause when I realize that I don't know the answer to that. What does she come here for? But when I turn my head to look at her, something changes. Her demeanor has shifted into one of uncertainty and…is that defeat? Fear? Pain? My brow knits as I search her, but the more I see, the more confused I become. Her face has softened, if only slightly, and her eyes are filled with emotions that betray her typically collected composure.

"I wanna show you something," she says quietly. She extends her hand, and I stare at it for an awkwardly long moment before taking it and pulling myself to my feet.

"Um, okay," I whisper, put off by the sudden swing in behavior. "Where are we going?"

"Just follow me."

~T~

{Karai}

I don't know what I'm doing. Every single step I take, I become more and more uncertain. I'm not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to falter in the sight of the enemy. Not supposed to show weakness, or pity, or any feelings in general.

But here I am, leading him to the only place I have to call my own. A place where the walls and stones have witnessed something no one else ever will; the moments where the barriers I've forged collapse around my feet, where the deceptive curtains and masks burn and blacken and wither into ash. Those moments when I see that I have no idea who I really am.

He says nothing. I can feel the tension radiating off of him. He doesn't trust me. That's fine; I don't trust me either.

I lead him down the dark streets and winding alleys; between the suffocating towers that pierce the night sky and reduce us all to ants wandering the channels of this industrial maze. He follows quietly, but I can practically hear his heart pounding in his chest and the gears turning over in his mind as he attempts to analyze the situation to the best of his ability. He's probably mapping out the threats in his head, keeping track of what buildings we pass, noting escape routes in case I turn on him or lead him into a trap. I don't know if it hurts or not that he switches so often. One moment, he'll be trusting me with his life, and the next, he'll be looking at me like I'm going to kill him. There's so much caution and fear laced between whatever relationship we've cultivated. Weeds amongst the flowers.

But I don't blame him. In fact, I'd be a little insulted if he wasn't somewhat afraid.

We finally reach the alley. It's a dark, narrow passageway tucked neatly between two rugged buildings in a practically abandoned section of the city, where the only residents are gang members, fugitives, drug addicts and drifters. The transient ghosts of city-life who want nothing more than to stay below the filthy underbelly of society and commit their sins in peace. The curbs and gutters are lined with trash, broken glass, shredded articles of clothing and a number of other things I have no interest in identifying. The stench of liquor, cigarettes, and sweat is so thick, it's permeable. It's quite possibly the roughest, most ghetto hell-hole of an area in all of New York. The type of place where bodies are dumped and people disappear. No one in their right mind would wander back here—not even the police dare to set foot in these streets. And that's exactly why I picked it.

I can sense his anxiety. It comes off of him in waves. He keeps glancing behind us, his swords drawn in defense as his eyes flicker warily from one corner to another.

"Karai?" he whispers. His voice sounds so small, so unsure. Afraid, even. I bet his head is ringing with alarms; it must be deafening. I smile to myself and step into the deep shadows of the narrow alleyway, waiting for him to follow.

And of course, he hesitates.

"Karai, please, just tell me what's going on."

My smile widens and I twist around on my heels to face him. His eyes are wide and alert and gleaming with fear. He looks so cute standing there, flinching at every sound like he's some sort of trapped creature.

"I guess you'll have to follow me and find out." I tilt my head at him. "Do you trust me, Leo?"

And then I turn and head deeper into the passageway, concealing myself in the darkness. It's not even a game anymore—I really, truly want to see how far he'll go for me. I want to know the extent of his trust…and then, maybe I'll find the extent of mine.