It was an uneasy vigil, only broken by Raphael's occasional stirring and Mikey's snoring. Mikey was curled up , catlike and warm on the small couch, mercifully oblivious to anything else. Don shifted wearily from his perch at the side table beside the bed, and stifled another yawn. His head was starting to throb, the dull edges of pain lacing up his skull, as he shook himself awake again. The rancid coffee that was left in his mug had gone cold hours before. He eyed the dark liquid with distaste and sat it back down.
Don winced as he felt the crick in his neck. Had he dozed off, after all? Worriedly, he squinted at the time, and saw that several hours had slid by. Nothing must have happened, or else he would have heard it. Guiltily, he rose without a sound, taking care to not disturb his sleeping brothers. Warily, he crept to the edge of Raphael's bed, and hesitated before gently taking his pulse. His fingers slid to the vein just under Raph's chin, and he was relieved to feel the reassuring throb of Raphael's heart. His breathing was deep, and regular, not hitching in pain. Raphael, thank God, looked as if he were only in a deep sleep, and not twisted in agony, or fighting not to scream the way he was a few hours ago.
Carefully, Donny unwound the bandages, mindful of aggravating the wound. The stitches, were still even, and holding together the ragged edges of flesh. The skin was not inflamed, just bruised and scarred. When Raph's fingers twitched, Don relished the flicker of movement. It meant that Raphael may not have any severed nerves in his hand. Easing Raphael's damaged limb back to the cushion, Don sat back .
The Lair was thick with the horrible silence. And past the bloodied dojo was Master Splinter keeping an even lonelier watch over his eldest son. Bitterly, Don rose, out of obligation, out of hatred, and out of a dark need to look Leo in the face and possibly pound it into oblivion.
Guilt made him pause, as he palmed the doorway, undecided between venturing to where Master Splinter and Leo were, or staying here in the frail refuge of his two slumbering brothers. Groaning inwardly, Don silently crossed through the dojo, making a mental note to clean up the blood and put the place back together. It would be a useful thing to do if he couldn't sleep, and it would restore some sense of normalcy to what had been a beloved place. He halted in surprise, to see the equipment neatly stowed back on their racks, each blade wiped clean, and all traces of blood gone. The sharp scent of bleach lingered like a cloud. Mikey must have cleaned the place up sometime during the chaos. Don's lip curled into a rueful smile of wan gratitude.
And now, the return to hell. It was strange how hard it was to force his feet to keep walking towards Splinter's door, to raise his hand against the wood and knock, softly.
Unwilling to cause his father more distress, and uncertain that he could look at Leo without exploding, Don made the uneasy compromise of sliding the door open wide enough to peer in. Splinter was serenely perched in the old chair, a blanket draped over his lap. He looked old, and exhausted.
He heard Splinter's gentle, "Enter, my son."
Carefully ignoring the sprawled, tied down figure on the bed, he answered, "Master Splinter? I was just checking on you. Do you need anything?"
Splinter hunched forward, almost as if in warning before Leo abruptly flinched.
Don stiffened in surprise. He had hoped that Leo was still conked out. No such luck.
"Donny?" Don's gut clenched when he heard Leo's ragged whisper. From the corner of his eye, he could see Leo struggle in the futile attempt to rise against the knots.
"Leonardo, you will be silent." Splinter's abrupt order was as harsh as a slap. Don ignored the tears that dribbled down Leo's cheeks.
Donny shut his eyes, tensed with the effort to ignore Leo's beseeching stare. From his corner, Splinter sensed the seething rage, as potent as an underground wire.
"My son, I am well. I do not need anything." Splinter answered, quietly, as his eyes went from Leo to Donny.
Donny gave his father a curt nod, only intending to exit without speaking to Leo at all. Hell, he couldn't even stand the sight of him.
"Donny, wait! Please!"
Leo's plea made him halt and recoil, as his hand lingered in its shaking grip on the knob. Don forced himself to turn towards his hated brother, and show him less mercy than he had given his worst enemy.
Leo wilted under the hatred as he slid the few inches he could away, as if to distance himself.
Miserably, he whispered, "Is Raph going to be alright?"
Don quaked. "You mean to tell me that you give a damn now? Where the hell was all of this brotherly concern when you were driving that weapon through his wrist, Leo?"
Leo flinched, recoiled, but made no attempt to deflect any of the savage blows. Disgusted, and sickened, Don scrubbed his face, and saw the wet against his fingers.
A soft snarl, barely above a whisper, as Don relished Leo's sob and twisting the knife in his side.
"Go to hell, Leo. Go to hell, and never come back." Don could only stare, detached and numb as Leo slumped back, shut his eyes, and wept.
"My son-" Splinter stared at them both, ravaged and bewildered by the alien flare of rage from his quietest son.
"I'm already there, Don."
Leo heard Don's exhalation, but shut his eyes to avoid seeing the actual hatred so strong it made his brother tremble.
"So is Raph." Don spat, as he turned to Splinter. The old rat withered, and seemed to crumble from the agony of seeing his family torn.
Don felt a tinge of guilt for subjecting his father to more torture, but not enough to halt the bitter words.
"I'm sorry, Father. I need to get back to my brothers."
He was rewarded by Leo's wince, and Splinter's ravaged eyes meeting his with sad acceptance.
"I understand, my son. I will tend to Leonardo."
"Donny, wait. Please." Don saw Leo's groping hand rise from the blanket and flop in the attempt to wave him nearer.
After seeing Splinter's tears, Don found grace enough to grant Leo the audience of as many moments as he could stomach.
"There is nothing you can say or do that can possibly make any of this right, Leo."
"I know." Miserable agreement and a brittle sigh. "I wasn't expecting anything less."
"What the hell do you want, Leo?" Donny didn't know if his tortured question was a plea, or a demand for any sort of answer, as Leo shut his eyes.
"Do you hate me now?"
Splinter stiffened in surprise, as Donny narrowed his eyes, and nodded.
Leo's soft, sobbing laughter was broken and sick and unexpected as his lips curled into a hysterical smile.
"Good. That's what I needed to hear."
Donny stared at that smirk for a half second before he slammed his fist into Leo's face and relished the loud snap of bone and knuckle.
Splinter recoiled, rose, and engulfed him in shaking arms, as he separated his sons.
"Enough of this, Donatello! You will not harm your brother!"
Donny staggered, and shook his head in the futile attempt to clear the buzzing rage that flooded through everything.
"He's not my brother, Splinter. Not any more." Donny spat the words, as he slammed the door, leaving his father to deal with the aftermath. If he stayed any longer, he would have done far worse to Leo.
In the silence, Splinter stared at the door, numb with horror, and wondering how his family had become so fractured and twisted. His quiet, gentle son had just struck out at his unarmed brother, and relished the wound. And his beloved oldest son was grinning and bleeding like a mad thing.
From his bed, Leo eyed the trickle of scarlet with perverse satisfaction, quaking with the sobbing chuckle. Broken body, broken mind, broken heart. None of it mattered compared to his broken family.
Bewildered by the cruelty, the violence, and Leo's insane reaction, Splinter turned to him sharply, in demand for some sort of answer.
"Why did you do this, Leonardo? Why did you do this cruel thing?"
Leo just quaked and tensed in tears. "I…." He swallowed hard, and forced his mouth to clamp shut.
Ignoring Splinter, he resumed his stare at the ceiling, as his father shook his head, and finally left him alone.
Leo flexed his fingers over the loose knot, feeling it like a noose.