Chapter Text
“..eo!”
The slider scrunches his face slightly at the repeated clapping against his cheek.
“Leo!”
His eyes are welcomed by the strong LEDs attached to the rims of the ceiling, glowing a bright violet amongst the other light sources in the room. A groan escapes his lips as he squints to focus on the shadow somewhat above him.
“Whu-?” he feels the press of a hand on his forehead before it abruptly leaves; leaving a fading little cold spot. He grumbles a little at the sensation.
He hears a tiny hiss escape the mouth of the hand’s owner. Soon after, Leo feels a new pressure on his forehead, this one more metallic, and a small beeping follows its leave.
The one closest to him begins mumbling something to the other shadows.
The slider wants to listen. But… he can barely bare the thought of sitting up to listen better, let alone standing! A turn of his head promising a hard headache at the impossible motion. The hard floor underneath him is so grounding and weirdly comfortable…
He feels himself slowly close his warm, tired eyes. He’s not sleeping, he’s just …resting his eyes. It makes the pounding in his head lessen, even if just a bit.
It also surprisingly made things easier to hear. Guess he doesn’t have to get up after all. Yippie.
“Leo, why didn't you tell us you were sick!?” Donnie speaks up from where he had crouched down beside him ‘cause he was the shadow from earlier of course how didn’t he register that—, causing Leo to wince at the sudden loud noise.
“…Would it be wrong to say; you didn't… ask…?” Leo croaks whilst keeping his eyes shut, shrugging slightly. He doesn't even need to open them and gauge his brothers' reaction to know it was the wrong thing to say.
…
Though, he hesitantly opens them after a few beats of uncomfortable silence.
Their faces were mostly as he’d expected; mostly concerned, stressed, maybe a little angry, but Mikey has bits of fury lacing his brow ridge. Unusual for the otherwise optimistic fella. Leo really hopes Dr. Delicate Touch won’t make an entrance. He could gladly do without that, thank you!
“Hehe…” The slider laughs nervously, mostly to (hopefully) relieve some of the tension; a droplet of sweat dripping down his forehead. Be it from their piercing gazes or the feeling of a heatwave entrapped in the room, he doesn't know.
His line must’ve shaken his brothers out of their apparent shock, as they finally say something; “Leo,” his purple brother begins slowly, as Raph moves over to help up the sick one of the bunch. “HOW BIG OF A DUM-DUM ARE YOU?!”
He feels a large hand around his waist pulling him up on his feet, though he can hardly stay upright, as he sways in the non-existing wind.
“And, you can’t even stand straight! You're shaking like a leaf!” The snapper snaps anxiously.
“I'm fine!” He pushes the snapper off of him. “Just… feeling a little feverish. I’ll be back to prime condition tomorrow.”
“You're literally averaging 101.5 degrees! And you just passed out!” Donnie gestures towards him with the thermometer gun(?), whatever it's called. That must’ve made the beeping earlier.
Leon rolls his eyes, but he has a sour feeling lingering in his stomach. This could only end one way if he doesn’t play it out right. “Come on, Dee. It’s fineee. I’ll just get some rest if it makes you all feel better,” he tries to keep an easy smile.
Good. A compromise. Tell them what they want to hear, while you get to do what’s right.
But, almost as if Mikey’s eavesdropping on the mean little voice in his head, the box turtle stares right through his lie. “Not before you take some meds and drink some water,” he challenges.
“Har har, Angelo. That was what I was already on my way to do,” he spins to leave again but stops slightly as his head pounds along the movement, he brings his hand up to his temples. His back turned towards his brothers, like a turtle hiding behind its shell.
Leo lifts a leg to start walking, before he hears the tell-tale whistles of a whisper behind him. Promptly, large, spiky and safe arms lift him up, one hand underneath both arms, like a wet cat.
“Wha-!” The slider squirms in the snappers’ grip, letting out a startled yelp that chokes him and quickly descends to coughs. Great, now his troat was acting up too…
“Don’t worry little brother,” Raph starts gently as he begins walking out the door with him in his arms, the others following close behind. “Let us take care of you.” The ‘for once’ goes unsaid, leaving Leo feeling tilted.
“No, no, no, no…” he protests feverishly, still trying to stray away from his brother's arms. They should be having fun! Not laboring and using up their limited supplies on him!
It takes a few minutes, but the sick slider gives up on fighting his brother. On the being lifted part, that is. His arms got easily strained pretty quickly and felt weird and sensitive. So he gave up, letting his big brother take him wherever, going limp in his arms.
They hobble down to the bathroom he was in not even an hour prior, and stop by the door.
Raph heaves a sigh before ordering his younger brothers; “Alright. Mikey, you’re on soup duty-“
Said turtle salutes before running off towards the kitchen.
“-Donnie, can you get his hoodie? I’ll stay and give him some meds.”
Leo scrunches his snout as he cringes inwards. This isn't even a mission, why was he ordering their brothers around? It's not like anything dangerous was happening either, where Leo could mess up and cause the apocalypse or something! He was totally expendable in this situation.
At least in his own eyes.
Heck! Mabye he was just joking around and it was Leo that was overthinking everything and causing such drama to himself-
No, Raph was never one to joke about his rank like that. Unlike you, he actually deserved it.
The purple turtle furrows his eyebrows, glancing at his blue-clad brother for a second before returning to his usual blank face. “Right,” Don turns and leaves the same way Mikey went, but predictably further, towards the bedrooms.
They were alone now.
Raph pushes the door open with his shoulder and hastily sat the sick turtle down on the closed toilet seat, rummaging through the medical cabinet now that his hands were free.
Leo stares at a spot on the wall. He can’t tell if it’s actually something or just discoloration, his eyes aren’t nearly as blurry as before but it’s still hard to tell. His head hurts and it’s a nice place to rest his eyes on, so he just lets himself zone out as Raph grabs the ibuprofen, and looks for the dosage on the label.
“Here, take this. I’d like the give you more than one since we usually burn through these types of drugs pretty fast, but it’s all we have right now.” Raph’s blurry hand opens towards him in his peripheral vision. “I’ll ask April to buy some more later if you want?”
Leo just continues to stare at the spot.
“Come on Leo, it will help, both with the fever and the headache! Don’t think I didn’t notice you gripping your temples earlier,” the snapper tries to coax.
The blue-clad turtle reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the wall, giving his brother his most convincing smile; “it’s ok, I don’t need it. Really! I think I’ll feel better with just a glass of water and some rest (even though I literally woke up, like, 2 hours ago…)”, he mutters the last part.
“Are you sure?” Raph asks, himself unsure. “It’ll make you feel a lot better- a lot quicker too!”
“No, Raphadoodle, it’s fine!” Leo places his hand on his brother’s, curls it up around the meds and pushes it back to him. “I mean, yo- we might need it later anyways.”
The conflict is evident in Raph’s eyes, glancing from Leo’s face and to the meds in his own curled up fist. Back and forth. Kind of reminds Leo of himself an hour earlier. Before they found out.
They found out. Stupid. How could you just let yourself pass out like that? What if something happened during those 15 seconds?
You brothers could be hurt right now!
Leo almost winces at the thought. Almost.
“-how does that sound?”
He tunes back to reality once more at the sound of his brother’s voice; “Huh? What’d ya say big guy?”
“What if we get you something to drink first, then settle this later? ‘Could also grab a snack if you’d like. I think Mikey’s done with the soup..?”
Leo feels his stomach grumble slightly, but he couldn’t imagine eating right now. Even his spit tasted all weird.
Just about everything felt on the wrong side of weird. Like watching a movie hanging upside down from the couch, his blood pooling in his head.
Maybe you’re the one being weird.
Hesitating, he glances back at the spot.
Raph just keeps looking at him expectantly. Like he’s waiting for an answer.
Leo tries to swallow the spit that had thickened in his mouth, but quickly gets caught in a coughing fit as it refuses to go down his parched throat.
“…Ugh- fine, whatever…I guess I can do that first,” he croaks. Ugh, he never did get that water.
He moves his weight towards his legs to stand up, careful to not fall off the toilet in front of his brother, and they make their way to the kitchen, a new smell lingering in the air.
Leo groans as he sits-more-so-falls into his months-old seat at the table.
The slider places his scorching forehead as gently as he bothers on the cool dining table, letting his shoulders fall slightly at the slight relief.
He closes his eyes, resting them from the strain of the bright light illuminating the room.
He hears Raph’s footfall pass him, stopping at the counter. He’s lowly saying something to his littlest brother, Leo barely bothering to strain his ears to listen;
“Is the soup ready? I think Leo’d really appreciate something liquid right now.”
“Yup,” the box turtle answers, there is something lacking in his voice. Like the ever present excitement somehow had been smothered to embers. “Varm, cozy, nutritious. Just like it’s supposed to be.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds before Raph asks the question that had been tickling Leo from the back of his mind since the air-hockey match; “you good?”
Mikey hesitates. He quickly steals a glance at Leo, the first time he’s looked at him upon entering. “I'm fine,” he turns back towards the dish; picking up a ladle from beside it and pouring the soup into a bowl.
The red-eared slider feels his stomach rumble uncomfortably at the amount of clumps falling alongside the broth.
“Here you go, Leo,” he hears Raph’s voice from seemingly right beside him, his eyes darting up in surprise. How did he get here from the counter so fast? “Here,” he gestures to the steaming blue bowl in his hands.
Leo grabs it after a few seconds, almost dropping it.
“Careful,” the snapper mother-hens and places it on the table.
The sick one grumbles a bit before looking down at the soup. There’s bits of vegetable and meats floating in the semi-clear broth. It looks good and smells good, like something the slider would usually enjoy. He picks up the stray spoon from beside it and dips it in.
The way the bits bop at the little wave makes his stomach turn in an uncomfortable way.
Don’t eat it.
Don't worry, he wasn't really planning to.
“Anything wrong, buddy? Something wrong with the soup?” His dear older brother asks, oh so patiently, from where he’s still standing beside him. It feels unlike him. Mikey also turns his head at the question.
“No, nothing's wrong,” Leo smiles, almost literally waves the question away, flinging small droplets of soup in his brother's face. “Sorry, it's just…um.. I kinda want that water first…?” He asks instead… for some reason. Perhaps ‘cause he was thirsty, perhaps he was delaying.
“Oh right! I forgot, sorry bro,” Raph gives him a small sheepish smile before opening the fridge. There's a plate of eggs, along with other products and one water bottle.
There's only one bottle. And Raph's grabbing it right now.
“Here you go.”
Leo stares at the bottle in front of him. He should probably drink it.
But there's only one bottle left! What if his brothers get thirsty and there's no more clean water? Sure they live in a sewer, but that water is filthy.
Why does it seem like there’s only one of everything today…
But he’s so thirsty, and tired, and his head hurts. His eyes almost droop closed as he contemplates, only a particularly hurtfull pang of a headache waking him up further.
Don't drink it.
Despite his own brain’s protests, he finds himself reaching for the bottle. He grips it, the plastic still crinkling even though his grip is weaker than usual. The slider unscrews the lid and brings the bottle to his lips.
Suddenly, there's a loud footfall thumping its way into the kitchen. “Nardo, I swear in the name of Newton, I’m going to put trackers in every piece of cloth you own!”
“What's going on Donnie?” Raph asks, a wrinkle forming between his brow ridges. Though, his question falls on deaf ears as Donnie continues;
“Where is your hoodie, Leo?!”
Said turtle flinches slightly at the volume, rapidly blinking in an attempt to quell the peeping in his ears. “Uh, I think I threw it off somewhere… I don’t really remember where though.” He places the bottle back on the wooden table.
The softshell expels a sound more commonly heard in feral turtles.
Leo has the feeling his room’s gonna look pretty ransacked the next time he goes in there.
“Oookay, Donnie. I think you need to take a little breather,” the youngest of the bunch prompts, finally speaking up, as Raph ushers the purple one closer to the table.
“Eugh- no.” The purple twin wriggles his way out of the red one's hold, glaring at the latter profusely. He breaks the brief eye contact and starts slowly backing towards the door. Hopefully he isn't actually serious about the trackers…
As he takes his eyes off of the scientist of the group, Leo feels his head begin to lull to the side unprompted, barely catching himself from banging his chin on the table with his arm. The water in the full bottle ripples as it also begins to sway from the impact, but his younger brother’s keen eye luckily catches it and screws the cap back on before any of it can spill.
Leo feels Mikey’s eyes on him again as the orange one exclaims; “Try the dojo,” towards his purple-clad brother.
“And why in Marie Curie’s name would it be in there?” he hears his genius brother’s voice ask from just past the wall.
The youngest snaps his head towards the voice. “Just try and see!”
“Exaggerated sigh, fine I’ll check.” The sound of footsteps slowly fade in the hallway and there's only three in the kitchen again.
The slider slumps down, forehead once again against the table. He feels his big brother rest a large cool hand on his shoulder as he glares at the side of the soup bowl.
“Leo, come on, you got to eat something.”
He replies with a grumble. He doesn’t want to.
“You have to eat if you want to take the medicine and get better,” his little brother pipes up from the other side of the table.
“I don’ wanna..” He hears himself whine before thinking better of it. Immediately cringing at the childishness of the statement. “I don’t… I can’t.”
“Can't what? Eat? Take the meds? Why not?” Mikey asks accusingly, voice cutting through the fog beginning to clutter the slider's mind. Even Raph seems to perk up with interest.
He doesn’t answer right away. ‘Cause, well— what could he even say?
You’re doing this for them.
How can you protect your brothers, your loved ones, if you’re just somewhere else resting? What if someone gets a migraine? Or something worse? And they can’t even take the ibuprofen because you selfishly already used it up! What if some punks or villains find their new lair and you’re not around to help them What if they need to get away or get cornered and you’re not there to portal them out what if the foot finds them what if they find a way to resurrect the Shredder again what if what if what if what if what if what if what if WHAT IF-
“Leo?”
Right, he needs to answer his brother. “Uhh,” —just say something!— “nature’s got her own way of healing, right?” He laughs nervously (and god, even just that hurt his head), looking up at them.
For a few seconds they just stare at him
“Are you serious right now?” Mikey stares at him, an array of emotions flickering on his face. (shock, worry, probably anger, anger, anger-)
Anger, anger. You made it worse. You shouldn’t have said anything.
“Are you actually serious?” The youngest turtle takes a step closer, but before he gets to do anything they hear footsteps making their way closer.
“Found it!” the soft shell exclaims as he walks into the kitchen once more, and stops, sensing the change in tension. “Uh, why are we mad at Leo now?”
“He doesn’t want to take the medicine!” The smallest and largest turtles shouts, with different levels of frustration.
“Why?”
“He says that ‘nature's got her own way of healing’,” Mikey lowers his voice, imitating him crudely.
“He’d like it if you all don’t talk like he isn't right here!” He nabs their attention, ignoring Mikey’s rude interpretation of him.
“Then why my dear sickly brother, are you refusing something that may help lower your fever which now stands at-,” the thermometer-gun-thingy his genius brother used before emerges from said turtle’s battle shell and scans him with a beep (followed by several more beeps). “- 102.5 degrees?!”
Huh. He hadn't actually thought that far ahead when he decided to say that. “I-...” he rips his eyes off of them, glaring at everything except his brothers. “...it’s just- Nothing, I don't know!? I just dont wanna!”
The slider feels his big brother’s hand clench his shoulder softly. “Atleast just eat a little Leo…” he says, before lowering his voice, so only the red- and blue-clad turtles hear; “You promised…”
He thinks back to their conversation in the bathroom. How Raph managed to order his brothers around. How they listened to the snapper. How they wont even listen to Leo now, even though he’s the leader when he tells them he’s fine and doesn’t need them all worried like this.
…How he did tell Raph that he’d eat something first.
The sick turtle takes a breath before letting out a prolonged groan, dropping his eyes to the now-lukewarm soup in front of him. It’s like they have a stare-off; but ultimately, the eyes of his brothers burrowing into his head wins; “ugh..fine…”
He steels his hand forward and grab the spoon, forcibly stabilizing his hand, begging internally that none of his brothers notices, and takes a sip.
Don't waste it.