A few days earlier
Leonardo lay still on his cold meditation mat, ignoring his welcoming comfy bed. Sleep had evaded him for the past few days and he had no intention of returning to his constant tossing and turning on the soft mattress. He spent most of his time either in the dojo or his bedroom since his Sensei's death. It was quite often he sparred by himself, running through a number of katas to help him feel in control.
We choose what holds us back.
"What if I can't move on, father? I don't know how." Leonardo often spoke openly to his father but never within range of his brothers. He needed to be strong for them; help them to move on, even though he himself didn't want to accept that their father's death was a reality.
The leader regularly dragged the rest of the guys out to patrol different parts of the city, even though the crime rate had dropped temporarily - most likely as a result of the Shredder's demise. There was no sign of his followers such as Tiger Claw, Bradford or Xever. Not even Bebop and Rocksteady had been causing any trouble lately.
After much dwelling, Leonardo still couldn't sleep and decided to head for the shower - grabbing one of his tanto blades and tucking it in to a hidden sleeve within a bandage. He quickly peered round his bedroom door to scan the lair for his brothers and listened intently. He could hear Michaelangelo snoring, and he could sense Raphael hadn't got back from his run yet.
Probably beating up some poor soul on the street who hadn't even robbed anyone yet, thought Leonardo.
Donatello was once again in his laboratory. Leonardo had decided Donnie had made it his new bedroom. The blue banded brother proceeded to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, hoping no one would hear and question why he was up so late again. After all, this wasn't the first time. He let the water from the shower run for a minute or so whilst he carefully removed his fabric covers, belt and pads. He placed the tanto blade on a metal stand nearby and unknowingly stared at it for a good minute or so. He felt it was dishonourable to use this particular tanto blade in battle, so he kept it for "personal" use only.
Why would I use it to protect myself from others in battle, when I draw the blade upon myself?
He took a deep breath and stepped in to the luke warm shower. Steam had just started to rise from his skin contact when he deliberately turned the temperature of the water down a few degrees.
He closed his eyes as the cold water seeped in to the indentations in his shell and flooded his open pores with a bitter cold sensation. His skin developed what humans called goosebumps in a fickle attempt to preserve heat, but it was no use, and Leonardo didn't care. His body also started to shiver but he sat down and embraced the numbness that was beginning to take over his body. He wasn't sure what he wanted to feel. He wanted to feel something, but then at the same time, nothing. He wanted someone to walk in and see what he had been doing the past few nights and comfort him, talk to him, however he simultaneously wanted to be left alone. He felt ashamed.
He suddenly grabbed the tanto blade and paused, glazing over.
Why should I be the leader of this team? I failed them. Sensei is dead because I was not strong enough to defeat the Shredder in the first place. We had a chance when his mutagen stopped working, but I gave in to my physical pain way too easily. I should have stood by Karai and April and finished the Shredder there and then. I let the guys down. I let you down, Father.
He felt his new cut sting which was also being aggravated by the cold water. Although showering helped prevent infection, it kept the wound open for longer as he watched the water flow around him turn in to a weak crimson colour. Eventually his cut would start to heal over, but then it would be the time to start a new one. He hesitated because he didn't want to…
You are weak. A coward. Finish it!
Leonardo was startled.
Did I just say that to myself? For a moment it sounded like the Shredder…
He shuddered but not from the cold. Shredder was dead! It was his mind playing tricks on him surely. The blue banded turtle had lost track of time and decided it was time to finish up. Although he knew he wasn't finished, he was too spooked to carry on. It was as if the Shredder was in the same room, watching over him.
It isn't real, it's just in my head.
How can you stand to look at yourself? Clawing at your flesh in the hope to regain control. Pitiful. Maybe I should have been merciful and put you out of your misery.
You're not real. You're finished!
Although Shredder's voice had now disappeared, Leonardo wondered how long his imagination was going to plague him.
It's just my imagination. Right?
…