In the dim light of the dojo Leonardo stood, feet spread apart as he paused halfway through a kata. His limbs shook from the exertion and his vision was spotting. The rest of his family had gone to bed hours ago for some well needed rest after they'd returned from a failed mission, but he couldn't stop.
Everything had gone so wrong and he had no one but himself to blame. Leonardo had underestimated the Foot's numbers, miscalculated his brother's eagerness to engage the enemy after weeks of being underground and overlooked their restlessness that made a stealth-recon mission a bad idea to begin with. They'd gone in with little information and his plans had backfired almost immediately. They'd barely made it out alive.
Raph had fallen back to cover their retreat on his command after Mikey was hurt. As his two brothers disappeared into the safety of the sewers, Leo had turned around just in time to see a foot mech land a powerful strike, instantly knocking Raph out and launching his body backwards dozens of feet.
The wet crunch of the strike connecting and the way Raph's limp arms and legs flailed as he rolled across the ground before skidding to a stop and then not moving at all was burned into Leonardo's mind. He'd see flashes of it every time he stopped moving, hear that awful noise when there was nothing else to drown it out.
Leonardo began the kata again, his breath coming in ragged pants as he lifted his sword and began slicing the air. The movements he was making were sloppy and imprecise, he couldn't lift his arms all the way or stop the arcs to make the sharp cuts he was supposed to.
It's my fault. I put them in danger. I gave Raph the order. I did it. I did it. I did this to him. He repeated in his head with every new step. It was louder than the sickening crunch even if the words wrapped themselves around his lungs and throat and made it difficult to breath.
Raph nearly died tonight because of his lack of foresight, his inability to read his brothers and his enemy, something a good leader should have been able to do.
Master Splinter said those words to him along with many others as Leonardo kneeled in his room, head bowed low in shame and self loathing.
At least Raphael had been conscious when he walked in the lair on his own two feet. If his father had seen how Leonardo had had to carry him most of the way, with help from Donatello to lower him down into the sewers, he was certain he wouldn't have gotten off with just a firm scolding. He'd been surprised at the lack of punishment, but perhaps Master Splinter was only waiting until he could come up with with a fitting form of discipline.
There was blood on his hands. Leonardo figured that once the repeated loop of Raph's injuries ceased, his brain would start with the way he'd dispatched those men. They'd been taught to preserve life but in order to do that you had to be very skilled. It was easier to take a life than spare it and still accomplish your mission.
He'd butchered them. The truth was he wasn't completely sure of how the fight had gone exactly. Usually he was able to replay his steps, recreate the fight in the dojo and see where he'd gone wrong and then repeat it over and over until he was too exhausted to continue. He vaguely remembered cutting through the men that converged on his brother and then blood spraying everywhere. Then he turned on the robotic armour, carving out the man inside.
After a swing with his blade that mimicked the way he had sliced through both metal and flesh, Leonardo swayed and his legs buckled under him. A sword clattered on the ground as he caught himself before falling over completely. He tried to even out his breathing but ended up grinding his teeth together and hissing through them, his hand on the mats curled tightly into a fist.
It was his weakness, his inadequacy that put them in this position again and again, that made him unable to handle the pressure, make the calls or accept the consequences of his actions. He felt like an impostor, posturing and pretending to be the level headed, skilled leader he was not but that his family needed from him.
As his breath levelled out he heard the crunch of Raph being pummelled and flung across the street again, the scrape of his body against concrete, the fast footsteps of the soldiers running towards him before his vision turned red and now, added to that was the scream of his victims as he cut them down one by one.
The stillness and quiet of the alley when no one was left and the satisfaction of vanquishing an enemy.
Leonardo's mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace. His head was so full of noise and revulsion he failed to notice anyone else in the room with him until a hand came down onto his shoulder, making him jump.
"Hey," Raph's gruff voice cut through Leo's thoughts and grounded him back in the present. "You ok? Your head hurtin'?"
Leonardo blinked and pulled his hands away from the sides of his head. He hadn't noticed he was doing that. "I'm fine." He lied easily.
"Yeah?" Raphael answered back as Leonardo stood up and went to retrieve his fallen swords. "Well you look like shit."
The insult made him pause his steps slightly before continuing his path. He was too tired to argue with Raph about his language. "You should be sleeping." He said instead.
"Can't sleep sitting upright, can't breathe lying down. You should be catching some zees yourself." Raphael shrugged and winced at the movement.
Broken ribs will do that to you, Leonardo knew. As long as Raph couldn't sleep he didn't think it fair that he should either. "Can't sleep." He lied again.
Bending over to pick up one of the fallen swords the room suddenly tilted and Leonardo swayed, correcting his footing to avoid falling over but the room just kept tilting. Before he toppled over, a solid presence was suddenly at his side holding him steady with a grunt.
Leonardo grimaced again at his show of weakness. His injured brother was holding him up when it should be the other way around. Leonardo tried to pull free but Raphael held onto him.
"Not until you're finished beating yourself up?" Raphael spoke to the side of his head as Leonardo looked away and squeezed his eyes closed.
A spray of red coloured his vision behind his eyelids, the severed limbs of his fallen enemies and their sightless eyes staring up at him as they waited for him to answer the question. He opened his eyes again and turned to look at Raphael's questioning amber gaze. For once it wasn't mocking or angry, only curious and maybe slightly worried.
If Master Splinter wasn't going to punish him for his shortcomings, he'd do it himself. Leonardo didn't say out loud. Maybe then he'd be able to quash the guilt and shame he felt.
"I nearly got you killed." Leonardo finally whispered when Raphael just wouldn't let go. He ended up with his hands on Raph's arms in what was almost, but not quite a hug. Raph was holding onto him so he couldn't leave and he was just... holding back.
"I was the one who tried to stop a foot-mech with my face." Raphael answered with a grin. "This ain't your fault."
The words made the sequence start over in Leonardo's head: turning to see the impact, the crunch of plastron and bone and Raph's body flung across the street. He could already tell before he hit the ground that Raph was unconscious. Raph didn't break his fall and his arms and legs flailed like a rag doll's as he rolled and then skidded to a stop. His limp body didn't move. Even when he screamed his name.
A warm palm cradling the back of his head aborted the sob that was making its way to his throat and Leonardo let out a shaky breath instead. Raph was alive, the foot-mech hadn't killed him. He was here, holding him up when he should be resting, warm and strong and breathing. When had he pressed his face against Raph's shoulder? They weren't usually physically affectionate, Raph least of all, but Leonardo wasn't ready to let go yet.
"I ain't so easy to kill either." Raph continued, and this time Leo did let out a choked noise that made Raph rub the back of his head and cluck his tongue.
They stood like that for a while, in their almost hug until Raph patted the back of Leo's head. "C'mon put away your swords and come watch a movie or something with me."
"I'm sweaty." Leonardo said to Raphael's shoulder making the darker turtle chuckle. Leo's forehead bounced against his skin with the movement.
"Yeah, and ya stink too." Raphael answered making Leonardo wrinkle his snout and turn his face away, breaking the calm spell that had fallen over them and finally letting go of each other. "C'mon that don't matter ta me. Just come sit with me."
Leonardo slowly picked up each sword and sheathed them, turning to find Raphael watching him expectantly. It wasn't often that his surly brother asked for his company. "Okay, go pick something out and I'll be right there."
Raphael left him alone as he put his swords and thoughts away, pressed them down deep into himself until he could continue to function and not fall apart like he almost did. He'd think about the faces of those he'd killed, of all the times someone he loved had fallen, of his failings and shortcomings and fears in secret. He'd continue to pretend to be strong and know what he was doing until he could actually become the person they needed him to be.