II. Fire

Leonardo sat quietly, his posture a textbook example of perfect, and listened to his brothers with half an ear. Just enough that he could identify each voice and the gist of what each brother was saying. Michelangelo was peppering Mitsu with questions about her village's feud with Norinaga. Donatello was arguing, more or less amicably, with April over the merits of trying to reconstruct the damaged replacement time scepter. The only brother missing was Raphael—who had recently left to go give the boy, Yoshi, the present of a yo-yo.

Sitting with his shell to them all, Leo stared into the fire before him and allowed its embers to gently soothe his aching joints. It had been a long day. And while his body had been toughened through years of ninjitsu training, it had still been somewhat unprepared for the particular physical tortures inherent in horseback-riding. But right now, the fire warmed his tired body and lit the dark room. Leo breathed in deeply, gratefully. Though it had been a long day, it seemed to be ending well. Everyone was once again safe and accounted for, and though there remained the unfortunate reality that morning promised battle and the time scepter was still missing—

A sudden burst of laughter caught Leo's attention. Mitsu. Glancing over, he saw the woman chuckling over something Mikey had said, while his brother watched her with dark, glistening eyes and a wide smile.

He then glanced over to Don and April, who were still engaged in quiet discussion between themselves. Frowning, he wondered how long Raphael planned to stay at Yoshi's house. He hoped not long. They had to figure out how to get home, and they didn't have long.

Leonardo had to admit, he also just found it odd that the young one had taken so strongly to Raph. His brother was rough and quick to anger. Unpredictable. Blunt. Not a suitable playmate for a child, not at all. But he had to admit that, in the presence of Yoshi, Raph's voice grew softer and his actions a touch gentler.

Regardless, Leo thought it would have been Mike who the boy would most favor. Humans always warmed up to Mike first, won over by his ever-ready smile and charmed by his jokes for any and every occasion. Not to mention, it had been Mikey who'd braved the fire to save the child.

And—the thought came as quick and loud as a whip-crack, and completely unbidden—it had been Leonardo who saved the child again with resuscitation.

Scowling silently, Leo moved a bit closer to the fire and a bit farther from everyone else. You're jealous, he realized with distaste. You're jealous of Raph, of all people.

He didn't begrudge Raph his friendship with the boy. Certainly not. And yet … the ache in Leo's bones wasn't entirely from the day's physical activities. Something deep inside himself, something hidden and unknown, ached to touch Yoshi the way that Raph touched the child. A quick caress of the cheek, a ruffling of the hair—all of it so simple, yet so profound.

The fire danced and cavorted merrily, throwing out shadows like long fingers. Leo thought about the fire's touch, invisible but real, felt but unseen, in the heat emanating from the flames. It was like fire, thought Leo. When he had literally breathed life—his very own life—into the boy, that breath had been invisible but real.

Invisible, real, and powerful. So powerful.

Leonardo had protected lives, and Leonardo had taken lives, but never before had Leonardo given life. So powerful. It left him feeling slightly dizzy. Before, life had never been something he could touch. The lives he saved, the lives he took … he never knew a thing about any of them. With the exceptions of April and Casey and a few others, no one had ever gotten close enough to see him or his brothers. Let alone close enough to actually touch them.

He smiled as he remembered. After awakening and coughing, Yoshi had looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes. Then he'd reached up. For a brief moment, his small fingers had brushed across Leo's broad face.

The embers inside Leonardo flamed into a blaze. He hazarded a glance over his shoulder and saw Mike leaning towards Mitsu, eye to eye, while she laid a gentle hand against the turtle's cheek. Sighing, Leo returned his attentions to the fireplace.

Strike swiftly.

Fade back into the shadows.

Never be seen.

Never be seen.

These were the mantras of his life, of all four of their lives. But it wasn't like that here, and Leonardo felt as though he was a starving man suddenly presented with a buffet table. He wanted to know about Yoshi. He wanted to know everything. What the boy liked to play, what the boy liked to eat, his favorite color, his darkest fear. He wanted to run the tips of his calloused fingers over the boy's face, slowly, very slowly, learning every curve and every line.

He wanted to desperately devour as much as possible, because he knew that when they went back, he would never again get to experience humans—or life—so intimately. Frowning, he suddenly remembered that odd comment Mike had made earlier. "Well, maybe we should." But that was impossible, even if—

"Leo?"

Glancing up, he saw Donatello standing a few feet away, looking thoughtful. Leo swallowed and wondered how long his brother had been there. "What's up, Donny?"

"April and I were wondering if you wanted to come talk with us. Maybe you, uh, have some insights on the current dilemma."

Leo nodded and stood up, stretching. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

Donny smiled his thanks before wandering back over to April. Leo didn't follow. Instead he glanced at the fire, surprised at how unwilling he suddenly was to leave its warm embrace. But, as usual, he'd been called to duty. And he would obey. Sighing softly, Leonardo left the warmth of the fire and headed towards the other side of the room, where Don and April awaited his input.

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Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, Rene and Jarred! Here's some introspective Leo for your day.

Update: Minor revisions 8/15. As always, much thanks for the criticism, Rene!