semilethal | LEO - POST MOVIE

[He squeezes Raph's hand weakly, still a little shaky all things considered. He wishes he could fix this the way he could fix a lot of things. He wants his big brother to never have to think about any of this again, he wants his little brothers to feel safe and like they won't lose either of them again. He wants his family to be safe and happy more than anything.

And seeing the look on Raph's face tells him it's going to be a long road there. Probably some setbacks here and there, but probably nothing to stop the progress forward.]

Big brother. [He says it knowingly, that lilt in his tone that's annoying on the best days.]

[For a moment Raphael looks like he's about to argue, about to press. He holds Leo's hand a little tighter as if to keep him from running off (like he's going anywhere right now, though) but before he can get a word out, Splinter comes up and tells Raphael to go find a place to sleep and then do it.

And that, for now at least, is that.

Casey makes his way to Leo's side at some point and figures out how to lever the cot's hardware in order to sink it further down to the ground. It does have wheels, which Casey unlocks, Raphael had just found it easier to carry it and Leo both out of medical.

Casey and Mikey together maneuver the cot with Leo on it, protesting when he tries to get up (embarrassed over the fuss, maybe?), but it truthfully doesn't take much effort to get the cot under the blankets and into the aforementioned 'ballroom.'

Mikey piles pillows near and against the side of the cot for his own nest, eventually locating and corralling a drowzy Raphael over to their side as well. When Raphael lays back down he flings his limbs every which way, used to his brothers using him as a mattress wherever possible. Mikey does just that, happily squeezing between Raphael's arm and the cot by Leo's thigh, pulling a blanket over all three of them and burying himself beneath it until not even the top of his head is visible.

Splinter comes to tell them goodnight, takes a moment longer to pass a hand gently over the heads and shells of his sons, and disappears into a different section. Casey fumbles about awkwardly for a moment until Raphael grabs his pant leg and sleepily pulls him down into the pile. Eventually April joins them as well, casually draping herself over the other side of the cot with her own blanket, yawning a quiet 'good night' at Leo before settling down.

And so...they sleep. Some of them. With fits and starts, with one or the other or multiple members waking just to be shushed by the others.

At some point during the night -or perhaps now, the morning- Donatello leaves his lab and quietly bypasses the blanket fort, heading straight for the kitchen without a word or a sound.]

[Everyone sticking close by is nice. It's a comfort, in more ways than he can count. He can't remember the last time they did something like this - pillow-blanket-fort in the main area for them all to pile into. Somewhere down the line, they got used to having their own spaces, all of them rebuilding after Shredder destroyed their home, Leo moving into a rundown subway car.

But this is nostalgic in a way Leonardo didn't think he could be at sixteen. And while the others start dropping off to sleep, he lays quietly. Listens to their steady breathing, the quiet shuffle of fabric as they shift in their sleep. But insomnia is always his companion in the night, and Leonardo does not sleep. He knows if he does, only worse things will find him in his subconscious, so the mix of fear and natural insomnia become the mix with the sore muscles and bruised limbs.

Worse, probably, is the lingering taste of copper in his mouth. He's fairly certain the spackle is mostly dry now, and the pains are minimal as he starts to climb out of the cot long-ways and crawl out of the fort. Water is easy enough, he can get his own water. Even if he's a little slow going, it's fine.

But he stops in his tracks when he sees someone else in the kitchen.]

[and that someone is so lost in his head that he doesn't hear leo enter, even with how painstakingly he shuffles.

in front of the coffee maker as it quietly hisses, percolates, is donatello with his hands spread atop the counter, head down as if a great weight is hung about his neck. one of his more luxurious battle shells sits squarely over his shoulders, though it seems more like a cage than a shield.

his shoulders hitch, just briefly. settle, but then again, softer, twice. his next inhale is shaky and wet.]

[He's distracted first by the realization. Then sidetracked mentally trying to figure out if getting the water is worth the second round of yelling and insults. But he is, indeed, very thirsty and probably dehydrated so the water is worth the risk, but how to get it- and the battle shell, obviously Donnie lost his and wants to feel better and protected and-

And then Leonardo hears it.

Crap.

There's a fifty-fifty coin flip chance of saying anything could go well, or could go very very badly.

Everyone else is asleep, and he may as well hash this out without an audience right now. So his voice is a low whisper, one hand out but not touching.]

Donnie?

[donnie starts and whips around, eyes wide and noticeably red before he turns back to the coffee maker just as quickly. he scrubs at his eyes and cheeks with the heel of a hand, the other reaching for the cabinet to withdraw a mug.]

What are you doing walking around? [hard, somehow angry-sounding sniff] The plaster needs twenty-four hours to fully set.

[That weird moment in time passing on fully now, he sighs a bit. Goes about his business grabbing a cup from the dry rack and heading to the sink.]

I wasn't going to wake one of them up to get me water. Took them too long to finally fall asleep.

[the look on donnie's face shows how acceptable he finds that excuse, but at the very least he doesn't deem it important enough to argue. truth be told, there isn't a person in this household who doesn't know about leo's chronic insomnia even on good nights.

the air is charged with something though, some kind of energy or...expectation. and donatello hates expectations remaining unspoken because he always misreads or misses them entirely. the sound of the kitchen faucet sounds way too loud as leo pours himself a glass of water, like it'll wake their family and they'll come running in any second.]

-I'm not apologizing.

[There's a sense of relief hearing those words. It's visible enough in the way his shoulders slump, holding that glass in both hands.]

Wasn't going to ask you to.

[But he will take a slow sip. If it were Raph, or April, maybe Splinter, he's sure one of them would be telling Leo about what a Good Leader does, smooth things over, make it easier. Apologize and try to work things out. But that just isn't him, he's not apologizing for something he doesn't deem he did wrong. And saving the planet? Literally his duty since he was the only one left there.]

I'm not either.

Wouldn't even hold my breath. [only mild sarcasm with that one, not that it sounds terribly different from donatello's typically flat tone. though maybe the fact that he does sound so emotionless is more telling, given how animated he was the last time leo saw him. he clearly got some aggression out in his lab, not that his projects are any better off for it.

...still. without the panic and anger, the irritation and terror roaring in his ears, he can finally sort out his wants from his needs and make a plan going forward. this is easier. data collection, categorization. these aren't his own emotions, or the sharp-edged shards of his own broken heart. it's just excogitation.] I need something else from you.

[Has water always tasted this good?

Granted, parts of the water lines above are messed up, so they're pulling from their own source down here, but it's better than the alternative. Still, savor it as much as he can.]

What's that?

[It's not a promise or agreement to provide whatever it is. With Donatello, there's no way to really guess at what it could be, not with the way he's forcing his tone flat like that.]

Let me fix things. Including you. Stop fighting me and let me do my part already.

[donnie's proud of his abilities and he likes to think he's fairly objective about his contributions to the team, but nobody could say that he provided a fair share during this entire debacle. he only even managed to get to the ship's computer thanks to mikey's quick thinking, and he didn't even manage to get the krang ship all the way into the portal fast enough before he got ripped loose.

if he'd just been less- less him, if he hadn't hesitated and have dove right in like his brothers always seem to be able to do, maybe he could've done it. if he was someone just a little different, maybe leo wouldn't have felt like he needed to-

well. back to the point, which is- it's that his greatest contribution to the team is always preparation and then recuperation. he fixes what's broken. he's usually the least hurt because he usually does the least fighting, so he can at least look after his family this way. if he can't come up with incredible strategies, if he can't put villains in the ground with his own strength, if he can't rip open space-time to save his brothers when they need it the most, he can at least do this.]

[Something in Leo's expression shifts, from an eagerness to listen to confusion. Had he been fighting Donnie on the way back? He doesn't fully remember, he remembers the van and the bumps, that moment of excruciating pain in his side, but not a lot else. The whole ride back had been a faded mix of pain and exhaustion and relief that his brothers were all right (mostly).

He chances stepping closer, almost in arm's reach now.]

How?

[It isn't an accusation, it isn't meant to make Donatello feel like he can't do whatever it is. Leo's genuinely asking, wanting to know how to help his brother.]

Tell me the truth. Don't brush off my questions. Don't try to redirect my attention, or my concerns. I need data, not reassurances. [this is really what donnie spent most of his time doing sequestered in his lab, besides melting down two of his busts to start on new battle shell components. figuring out how to articulate this without sounding pathetic and/or demanding, so he sounds sure and so his requests are clear and easily understood. the nuances of what he wants to ask are exhausting, and with how often he and leo vibe on the save wavelength, they seem to miss each other just as often.]

And trust me to take care of you, and them. [raph and mikey.

maybe donnie's no good in an actual fight, maybe donnie can't always get the job done out there, but here in the aftermath? he will mend every tiny tear, ice every miniscule bruise. he will use every ounce of his considerable capacity for project management to make sure his family mends in the most efficient, painless way possible. it's his specialty. it's the only thing he's truly good at, when it comes to this.]

Edited 2022-09-04 05:00 (UTC)

[It's a simple enough set of requests. Something Leo immediately wants to agree to; for as often as they get on each other's nerves, he'd give anything for who is effectively his twin.]

I do. -And before you try to say otherwise, I wasn't going to talk about it in front of them. [The others, their brothers, their father. The rest of them will hear about the details eventually, once Leo's had a chance to really break it down, bit by bit and put it together again in a more palatable way. But Donnie? He knows Donatello will react to it, but he at least will keep the emotion out of the immediate and circle back around to it later.

He looks down at his free hand, slowly closing it into a loose fist before opening it again.]

If you want the truth, now's a good time. They'll probably stay glued to us when they wake up again. [It's as much an offer as it is a fact.]

[though donnie would refute it with any number of hypotheses sometimes for the sake of the argument itself, leo is effectively his twin. and that's why when leo brushes it off as 'i just didn't want to talk about it in front of them,' donnie doesn't quite buy it.

...but if it gets him the information he needs, he'll leave it alone. for now.] All right.

[the coffee maker has already poured enough into the pot to make at least a mug, but donnie ignores it in favor of taking advantage of leo's rare straight-forwardness. he folds his arms, finally turning to face leo fully and leaning his hip against the counter.] How many times were you struck on the head, that you can remember. And where.

Edited 2022-09-04 05:21 (UTC)

[Right to it, then. But even he'll admit he's tired, so moving to sit on the counter for now.

God, how many times? Struck on the head versus just hitting his head like normal...]

Only counting the times it was intentional? Like.. three. [He thinks. A few slams from Raph while he was being controlled head his brain bouncing around. But the only really intentional ones were from Krang.] A couple times in the face, at least once... [It's fuzzier than it has any right to be, mingled with Krang's agonized fury screaming in his ears as what was left of the ship fell apart. He shakes his head slowly.] Thrown a few times that hit my head.

[and donatello reaches up to push leo to sit up straight on that counter instead of hunching over. if leo tries to lean forward, he'll find his brother's hand there bracing his outer shoulder to keep him upright.] Don't slouch.

[so, half a dozen times. donnie's not sure where he'd even find an MRI; he may have to put one together himself. he should put this pot in a thermos and start another.] When did your plastron crack; specifically, after how many blows? Did you receive additional blows after it cracked? Did you notice if anything in the prison dimension was able to cause damage to your shell or plastron, or if it was all obtained from your opponent? [a small consideration there. don't use proper nouns to help maintain distance from the subject matter.]

[Something about sitting up straight catches his breath, stuck somewhere on the way out each time he exhales. Likely a problem with that rib.]

It, um. It was him. [And that is a difference between them. Leo can't not use proper nouns and names when he knows them, it keeps him focused.]

Back in the subway. When we got separated, a chunk of cement fell on me. I think that... probably started it. Didn't really crack like this until he was slamming me into the floor.

[He sips his water, runs one hand down his face.

Y̵o̵u̴'̶v̸e̴ r̶u̴i̷n̷e̷d̷ e̷v̶e̷r̵y̴t̶h̸i̷n̶g̴

Think. Other question, this is for Don. Think about that, and not about how it felt or what he was thinking at the time. Focus on the facts.] Yeah. Additional blows after. Plenty of broken up building and pieces of the ship floating around I got slammed into.

Edited 2022-09-04 05:48 (UTC)

[all right. multiple trauma to the same place is most certainly less than ideal, but donnie almost prefers that to the thought of one strike or blow causing this much damage to their shells. resilience is one of their best traits as turtles, he supposes.

donnie doesn't have any other questions specifically about his wounds, so he can let the topic rest here. at this point he's lost again, knowing he should comfort leonardo somehow but unsure how to do so. providing him with good news and a plan of action should do it, right?] Michael's fine. Mild contusions, and some mild patterned burns on his hands and forearms, but they should heal quickly without scarring. Draxum said he would make his way to us in the next few days to give Mikey a 'mystic' checkup.

Raphael might have some scarring around his eye, but his other wounds are mild and the damage to his shell and plastron is cosmetic only. His bloodwork is clean so far, but I have to wait for my cultures to finish cooking before I can completely rule out lingering pathogens.

[satisfied that leo isn't going to go back to slouching, donnie removes his hand (shakes it as discreetly as possible before twisting both hands together) and returns his attention to his coffee, rummaging for that thermos after all.]

As for you, keep your shoulders back and no bending at the waist. No picking up anything heavier than a sandwich for at least two weeks. Immobile with bed rest would be ideal but I'm not gonna pretend you'll listen to that. I want to give you an MRI as soon as I have the equipment together, but in the meantime tell me if you experience any vertigo, sudden nausea, heart palpitations, forgetfulness, slurred speech, blackouts, or loss of any of the senses, partial or full. In fact, just tell me if you feel anything other than 'bruise hurts.'

[He's almost certain Donatello needs or wants more information than that. Whether he's putting it off to wait on whatever equipment he needs, or he just truly doesn't need it this second, Leo's skeptical.

But even he perks up a little hearing the results of their brothers' examinations. He'd picked up about the burns, but is glad Draxum will take a look. The scarring around Raphael's eye... That's just something they'll come to terms with. And he can work on some of the lingering parts of that with Raph later.]

Good. About them, I, um. Yeah.

[He sighs. Moves enough to slowly peel his bandana off and hold it in both hands now.]

Hard to tell you that if you stay away, y'know.

[glances aside at leo before topping off that thermos, dumping the grounds to make another (strong) pot of coffee.] You need an MRI sooner rather than later. Once I get that together, I can join everybody. [and maybe by then, his won't feel like dousing himself in hydrochloric acid every time someone accidentally brushes up against his skin] Call me instead, don't go looking for me.

Edited 2022-09-04 06:17 (UTC)

[He compromised, gave Donatello information and in the way he asked for it. He's doing a lot by still sitting here when he really feels like he should get horizontal, the way his vision is starting to swim sitting up straight like this. He lowers his voice to a whisper again.]

You know they want you in there with us, right? Mikey almost wouldn't even try to go to sleep until April came back and said you weren't coming.

If you can tell me that's what you actually, really want right now, then fine. I'll leave it alone, tell them to leave you be. But we're just as worried about you.

[leo...vision swimming is a symptom. for gods sake please report your symptoms]

Oh.

[hm. a miscalculation.]

I don't want to be touched right now. I really do need to build the MRI machine, though, it's not an excuse.

[YOU ARE AWARE HE HAS A CONCUSSION, SIR.

But it's hard to tell if Don's request is because of the emotional navigation he just spent all evening doing, or if it's because of something else.]

Fair enough, no touching. [Leo can be annoying. He can be frustrating, he can push people's limits, he can see like he doesn't care. But for his brothers, he does take care to their idiosyncrasies. And he knows Donnie requires some consideration for boundaries and requests as simple as 'please don't invade my personal space right now'. He also doesn't want to mess up this tenuous understanding they've reached.

Speaking of. He sets the now empty glass down before slowly climbing down from the counter to the floor again, one hand firmly keeping him upright.] Hey, you said, uh. Symptoms right? How's vision starting to slowly go blurry?

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