The trip took too long. The bandage came loose. They stumbled too many times.

Raph started shaking down in the sewers, twitching. Blood drizzled a thin trail down his chin. Alive, but worse and worse and worse and Leo was ready to scream and then-

-then they were there, and Splinter was moving out of his room drawn by Mike's shouts, and Don was dragging Raph and Leo towards the dojo. The clean mats and bandages and as soon as they were through the door Don stumbled over a seam in the mats and lost his grip and Raph fell.

Fell and hit the ground stomach-first and Leo tried to catch him, but his arms were tired and Raph was heavy and he fell and Leo couldn't do anything but turn him over and watch him arch and tremble.

"--to get more bandages. Leo!"

Don's voice cut into his mind. He looked up.

An urgency was in Don's eyes, urgency that meant nothing good for Raph. "I need you to boil some water. Splinter, find a pair of pliers in my tools. Something long and thin. I'll also need one of Raph's spare sai."

Leo just sat for a moment, frozen. Nothing made sense to him except staying beside Raph, protecting, helping, staring if that's all he could do.

"Leo! Go!" Don reached out and physically pushed him back, off balance and onto the mat.

Leo scrambled to his feet and went. The snap in Don's voice was unusual for their quietest brother, and Leo didn't want to think of what it meant.

He charged into the kitchen, and with shaking hands - red hands and it was Raph's blood drying and cracking on his skin - he filled the biggest pot he could find with water.

Leo!

Just a shout. God, why hadn't he had more warning? Why had he turned his back on that punk creep? So overconfident, so sure the guy was finished. How had Raph made that leap from the dumpster just in time? How quickly must he have reacted?

God. He wasn't ready for this. They were out on some routine patrol. Nothing. Nothing was supposed to happen. A fight with Purple Dragons was like playtime for them. It wasn't real. It wasn't serious.

It wasn't fair that with one blink of an eye, one turn of his back, everything went so wrong so fast.

It's good this way. Wasn't that what Raph said? Good this way.

Jesus.

He was breathing hard, staring at the surface of the water and willing it to boil faster.

And they'd just been arguing. Fighting over what? He had no idea. Something that didn't matter at all. Leo'd been mad, but they went out anyway. What if Leo had made mistakes because of it?

"Leo?"

He jumped, whirled around. Bad news? No. No, he wasn't ready. Not today. Not yet.

Mike stood, shivering, grasping his arms. "I'll watch this. You go."

Leo didn't need to be told twice. He didn't bother asking Mike if he was alright, or wondering what put that sick note in his voice. He just went.

The dojo mats were stained in a few places, from sparring gone too far or accidents in practice. Nothing like this growing darkness under Raph.

Leo kneeled right in the stain. He grasped Raph's hand and looked at Don. "What do you need?"

"Splinter and Mike are taking care of supplies. Just…"

Raph seized suddenly, twitching and heaving off the mat.

"Damn it. Grab his shoulders. Don't force him down, just make sure he doesn't roll or twist." Don's eyes never once lifted from the wound in Raph's gut.

Leo leaned over Raph, hands finding his shoulders. He held, light but firm, and felt the helpless heave of muscles under his hands.

His own breath felt too fast, too shallow. "Jesus. Don…"

"Don't, Leo."

He was left staring down at Raph's face, oddly blanched until he was almost Mike's lighter color, pain etched around his eyes and mouth.

Without thinking he bent closer, his eyes shutting. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay." The words became a mantra, and he spoke them over and over again as Raph's seizing slowed and finally stopped. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay."

He opened his eyes and found himself just inches from his brother's unconscious face. He leaned in, his forehead brushing Raph's. He had to be okay. He had jumped in Leo's path. "You'll be okay," he rasped out one more time, soft and scared.

A touch on his shoulder made him straighten. He looked back and saw Splinter there.

He looked to Raph's other side and saw the pot of water steaming on the mat, and Mike scared kneeling behind Don, who was grasping a dripping, steaming pair of pliers.

Don met his eyes for a grim moment. "Move a little, Leo. You'll need to keep holding him, but I need room."

Leo shifted himself behind Raph's head. With not a moment's pause he gingerly hefted Raph's shoulders up, and crossed his legs to be a pillow of some sort for his brother. His hands rested on Raph's shoulders, and he braced himself. He looked to Don and nodded once.

Don turned. "Mike? You don't have to watch this."

Mike's eyes were glued to the wound still dribbling blood over the mats. When he spoke it was a feathery whisper that sounded completely foreign to him. "Will he die?"

Don hesitated. "He might."

"I'll stay."

Don drew a breath, turned back to Raph. He held the pliers carefully over the wound. Splinter crouched on his other side, quiet and solemn, antiseptic in hand.

Leo let himself be grounded by the flesh under his hands. His eyes went to Raph's face, upside down on his lap. He tried to hear more than those two words.

He might. He might. He might.

When the pliers dug into him, Raph jumped. His eyes flew open and pierced right into Leo for a moment before darting, wild, glazed, searching for the enemy causing him pain. He kicked out.

Mike moved before he could be asked, hitting his knees by Raph's feet, holding his ankles to keep him still.

It took hours. Days. Years. Don had one hand flat on Raph's plastron, the other clutched the pliers, digging blindly into the wound, searching. Forever.

Leo was ready to start screaming when Don finally straightened, pliers coming free, stained in red, with a twisted hunk of silver metal caught in their tongs.

Raph stilled, panting for air, eyes blank and wild.

Don set the tongs and the bent bullet to the side.

Splinter poured a drizzle of antiseptic from the bottle directly into the wound. If the sting of it cut past whatever pain he was already feeling, Raph gave no sign.

Leo relaxed as Raph stopped fighting. He slid his hand to the side of his brother's head still nestled on his lap. His broad thumb swiped over the line of tears Raph had shed, gentle.

"You'll be okay," he said in the pause. His voice was a whisper. "You'll be okay, Raph."

Raph's eyes swung upwards, and for a moment they seemed to clear.

Leo looked down at him, thumb smoothing back and forth over his cheek. "You'll be okay."

Raph's throat worked. His hand twitched at his side, as if he wanted to reach out for something.

"Leo." Don's voice, a low warning.

Reluctantly he looked up, and he swallowed when he saw the sai in Don's hand. The long middle prong was steaming, steel so hot it made the air around it curl like smoke.

Leo's hands slid back to Raph's shoulders, and he shut his eyes rather than watch.

A sick sound, like a sizzle, was covered almost the instant it started by Raph's scream.

But it was quick, a touch inside the wound and then it was done.

Leo pried his eyes open to watch Don, but the moment the sai was free and blood no longer drizzled from the wound, Don dropped it to the mat. He stood up and lurched towards the door, moving out of sight fast.

Leo dropped his eyes.

Raph was limp and lifeless, but breath made his chest rise and fall.

Leo's hands slid off of him. He let out a breath, dropping his head. Shouldn't have happened. Any of it.

Mike was quick to get up and go after Don. Only Splinter stayed there with Leo, beside Raph. Waiting for…something. Anything.

For a miracle that would make this like some bad movie, where he's shot one moment and up and walking the next.

"Leonardo."

He lifted his eyes and looked at Splinter.

"What happened?"

"It was for me." Leo's voice sounded oddly grating in his throat. He swallowed. "It was for me," he said again.

He wasn't sure if he meant the bullet, or the sacrifice.

Raph's hammock was out of the question, so Leo simply directed them to his own room. Raph was laid carefully in his bed, and supplies were brought in to cover Leo's bare surfaces. Bandages, water. Antiseptic.

Leo stayed with him, though he heard his brothers discussing plans. Discussing things that had to be done.

For maybe the first time in his entire life, Leo didn't have anything to do with it. He didn't try to direct his brothers - Don knew what they needed better than he did, and Splinter would know where to get them. He didn't want to join in, to play a part in the search.

He wanted to sit there, perched on the edge of his bed. Making sure Raph's last breath was followed by a next breath. The talk went on behind him, then outside the room, on the phone and at the door, and maybe they were going out but Leo didn't pay attention.

He watched the rise and fall of Raph's chest, the complete blankness in his face. He took hold of his brother's hand, felt the calloused ridges of his fingers, the lines etched in his palm.

For a little while things seemed almost peaceful.

When he heard quiet footsteps pad into the room, he frowned. His eyes stayed on Raph's face.

Don appeared over his shoulder and then at the foot of the bed. "We'll need more covers," he said quietly, his voice strained. "He'll probably go into shock. Splinter's making tea, though I don't think he'll wake up soon enough to drink." He glanced at Leo. "Mike's gone for April and Casey. They can get most of the things I think we'll need."

Leo nodded absently. "You okay?" he asked without looking at Don.

Don hesitated. "That was…I don't know…"

Leo felt his apprehension. "You did the best you could, which was more than any of us would've known how to do. If he lives it's because of you."

Don left, and returned in minutes with a pile of covers. He dropped them to the floor and took them up one by one to lay over Raph's still form. "I kept hearing voices," he said as he carefully tucked each cover around Raph. "In my head, like those television shows in the hospitals. People shouting about blood pressure and heart rate and monitors and calling surgery."

"We can't have those things," Leo said, understanding Don's hollow tone.

"Leo…"

Leo dragged his eyes from Raph.

On the other side of the bed, absently tucking a corner around Raph's shoulder, Don looked as solemn as Leo had ever seen.

"A bullet wound isn't like what we normally deal with. If we're cut, we bandage it and hope no nerve was damaged. Bullets are…they're the difference between someone getting sliced in two or getting blown up by a bomb. Bullets explode. They tear and burst. They send bone fragments into organs. They leave damage I can't see, and I don't know how to fix. Cauterizing and wrapping it isn't enough, but there's no more I can do."

Leo frowned back at Raph.

"If he's bleeding internally, or he's got damage to his organs, I can't fix it. I can't…"

"He'll be okay," Leo said softly.

"Maybe. It'll be a while before we can be sure."

"He will."

A pause. Don moved away from the bed and around, coming up behind Leo as if a different angle was all he needed to see where Leo's certainty came from.

Leo looked up at him. "It's Raph."

Don hesitated, the gravity not leaving his face. But his eyes went from Raph to Leo, and after a moment he nodded. "Yeah."

Leo let out a breath. "Yeah." It wasn't time yet. Not time for one of them to say goodbye.

"I…" Don hesitated. He moved to sit gingerly beside Leo, careful not to disturb Raph. "I heard what he said to you on the street."

Leo looked back at Raph. He heard those words too, going through his head again and again. That it was good that way. That Raph thought he was expendable somehow. That things were okay as long as Leo was fine.

He could feel Don's eyes on him, and he looked back.

The corner of Don's mouth tilted up just a little, like he was trying to smile and losing the battle. "I heard him tell you he loved you. I'm glad he realized…" He let out a breath, eyes going back to Raph. "I was starting to think neither of you would ever figure it out. I'm glad he said it, and I'm glad…" He trailed off, and reached out to lightly lay a hand on Leo's, which was still clutching Raph's firmly.

Leo blinked, looking from Don to their hands, and back to Don.

Don stood, his hand sliding away. "I hope you two get a chance to sort it out."

Leo's mouth opened, then shut.

"Call me if anything changes." Don inhaled, the softest of sniffles. He moved to the door and out, shutting it softly behind him.

Leo looked after him, wanting to be confused. Wanting to protest, to say that Raph was talking about all of them. To say there was nothing to sort out.

Raph lay still, softly breathing, and Leo's hand couldn't manage to move the few muscles it would take to release the limp hand from his grip.

And really, he wasn't confused at all.