The mood around the base was tense, but that was nothing new. Casey lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and hoping the raiding party would get back soon. His mom and uncles Leo and Mikey were with them, and even if Casey knew they were the best fighters ever he always felt afraid when he said goodbye to them. His seven-year-old mind wanted to believe they could beat anyone, but kids learned not to think that from a far younger age. Anyone could be lost at any time… it was just a cruel fact of the world they lived in.

Just then a loud, wailing siren split the air. Casey started, even though he'd experienced this many times before. Immediately he jumped up and bolted toward the curtain closing off his room. Whipping it open, he heard running footsteps approaching just before several Resistance fighters raced past him.

"Incoming!" one shouted. "We have wounded!"

Casey took off after them, though hard-pressed to keep up on his shorter legs. He didn't care… he had to see, had to know if it was one of his family. He heard the main door opening, then turned the corner just as it slammed shut. There was a split second of relief when he saw his mom at the front of the party, but it quickly disappeared when he saw her face. It wasn't very often that he saw her seriously afraid, but he knew the look.

Then he saw behind her, and his heart began pounding hard against his ribs. Several other fighters were carrying a larger, limp figure, and all it took was the green skin and flash of blue to know who it was. Casey's minute hope that it wasn't too bad dissolved when he saw Uncle Mikey racing alongside, his face set in a combination of grim determination and terrible fear. The glow of his mystic energy was visible, and his hands were hovering over…

Casey felt his stomach drop with a sickening lurch. Where Leonardo's right arm should have been, there was only a bloody stump. Even with Michelangelo clearly doing all he could to stem it, it was still bleeding heavily, leaving a trail of red. Before Casey could even fully process what he was seeing, his mom saw him. Her eyes went wide, and within seconds she'd rushed to him and swept him up in her arms. Reality caught up with him then, and he immediately began struggling to get down.

"Uncle Lee!" he cried. "Mom, le' me down! Please!"

But Cassandra just held him tighter as she hurried back down the hall toward his room.

"They've gotta work on him, CJ," she said, in that soft, gentle voice she used only for him. "We've gotta give them space."

Casey strained to look over her shoulder, trying to get one more look.

"But Mom, please! I-I wanna… he…"

But the curtain fell back into place, blocking his view. At that, the tears came. Loosening her hold just a little, his mom moved to sit on his bed and hugged him close.

"He wouldn't want you seeing this, buddy. We'll go see him soon as we can, okay?"

Casey buried his face in her shoulder, trembling.

"But… but what if… if…"

He felt a soothing hand stroke up and down his back as his mother began rocking back and forth.

"Shh… it's okay," she murmured. "Leo's a tough guy, and if anyone can pull through this, he can."

Casey just kept crying into her shoulder, the words of comfort ringing hollow. Uncle Raph was tough too, but they'd still lost him. Why should Leo be any different?

He can't die… he can't… he can't!

Casey jolted upright with a gasp, his eyes snapping open. His hand immediately closed around the handle of his hockey stick weapon, which was always next to him, and leaped to his feet. His eyes darted around, his heart pounding. His vision adjusted quickly, and the room came into focus. He wasn't in the base. This wasn't the same time.

The teen's alarm calmed, but his muscles remained tense and his heart pounding. Closing his eyes, Casey began taking slow, deep breaths, running through one of the breathing exercises his sensei had taught him. At that thought, his eyes opened again, another twinge of alarm passing through him.

Sensei…

With just the slightest hesitation, he set his weapon down next to the futon he was sleeping on and hurried out of the spare room toward the med bay.

When Casey pushed the car door open, his eyes moved straight to the nearest bed. Donnie was looking at him from his seat beside it, a look of surprise on his face.

"Casey? It's not time to switch yet…"

"I know," the human teen said, only half paying attention. His eyes were fixed on Leo, still lying unconscious in the bed. The oxygen mask was still on his face, along with the flush of fever, and his breathing slow and heavy.

"No change."

Donnie's voice was dull and solemn, and Casey could hear the weariness in it. He felt his throat tighten and swallowed hard, feeling slightly angry at himself. He should be used to this by now. He'd spent his whole life knowing he could lose loved ones at any time, any day. But even knowing that, he couldn't stifle the pain. His eyes stayed fixed on the teenage self of his mentor, and his mind seemed to transport him through time again.

His mother's hold on his hand was gentle, and Casey kept his own grip tight on hers as they entered the infirmary. His Uncle Donnie was adjusting an IV drip by one of the beds but turned to look at them as they approached. His expression was grave, more than usual, and his voice was tired.

"I thought you'd be here before long."

"They said it was okay to see him," Cassandra said, her own voice soft. "I promised CJ we'd come as soon as they did."

Casey's attention had already shifted to the bed; Leonardo was lying there, his eyes closed and an oxygen mask on his muzzle. He felt a shiver run through him and his grip on his mom's hand tightened. He heard the conversation going on but made out none of the words. All he could see was the still turtle in the bed.

A gentle squeeze on his hand drew his attention, and he looked up to see Cassandra looking down at him. Her eyes were sad but gentle, as was her voice.

"You want me to lift you up?" she asked. Casey kept trembling but swallowed hard and nodded. He was in the Resistance… he was going to be a fighter like his mom, like his uncles. He wanted to be as strong as them, as brave as them. Uncle Leo told him that being brave didn't mean not being scared, because you could only be brave when you were scared. It meant doing the right thing, facing what was scaring you.

Uncle Leo would be there for him if he was in that bed. He needed to do that for him now.

When his mom lifted him up, his throat tightened again, and he felt like crying all over again. Without the band of blue the red marks on Leo's head seemed to stand out more than ever, even with the red flush tinting his face. Casey always thought they made him look bold, but now they looked like bloody gashes… another addition to the myriad of injuries.

This was wrong. This wasn't just his awesome Uncle Leo, this was Hamato Leonardo, their inspiring leader, the greatest ninja ever. He was always so brave, so strong, faced any situation and came back swinging, often with a smug grin and one-liner that would be corny coming from anyone else. But like this… he looked so much smaller somehow.

No one was invincible. That was a fantasy Casey had been forced to abandon long ago. But the idea that something could reduce Leo to this, leave him completely helpless and vulnerable… it was strange, alien almost.

"Mikey's passed out from exhaustion," said Uncle Donnie in that dull, tired voice. "He spent a lot of mystic energy. It was just enough to keep Leo from bleeding out, but that's just one of the dangers crossed off. I don't want Mikey trying any healing for at least three or four days, and it's going to be touch and go."

Casey's eyes moved to Leo's right shoulder, to the bandaged-up stump where his arm had been. How was he going to fight without it? How much more would he have to give up protecting his family, all of them? Would he keep going until…

Unable to hold it back, Casey let the question haunting him slip out in a small, trembling voice.

"I-is he… gonna die?"

When silence met his words, he looked over at the genius turtle. His face had its usual solemnity, but there were tears filling his eyes and sliding down his face. Casey's eyes widened… he'd only seen Uncle Donnie cry once before. When he answered, his voice quivered.

"I don't know."

"Casey?"

The teen blinked, coming back to himself.

"Uh, sorry," he said softly. "Just… bad memories."

Donnie hummed but didn't push for details. He still hesitated to get involved in emotional conversations, though Casey thought he was getting pretty good at it. Reaching for the folded washcloth on Leo's forehead, he rewet it and wrung it out before dabbing the beads of sweat from his twin's face.

"He's burning up," the softshell muttered. "I don't like how this fever isn't coming down."

Casey felt a deep sadness fill him as he looked at the genius.

"I saw him pull through worse," he said softly. "Because he had us, and he had you."

A short, bitter laugh escaped Donnie.

"He had us when he got in this mess. But he was too stubborn and stupid to remember that… again."

Casey frowned at that but found himself unable to find a good reply. Yet another way the younger Leo was like the one he'd known… reluctant to pull his loved ones into danger, determined to fix things himself when he could, and far too stubborn for his own good.

Why do you keep doing this, Leo? Throwing yourself into danger to protect us? You can only get lucky so many times.