Chapter Text
The metal ceiling above Leon’s bed had cracks. Slim lines stretching from wherever and going wherever.
It’s one of the few things the new lair had in common with the old one.
It has been a while since they’ve moved. Enough time for the renovation of their new home to have newly finished. But, not really enough time for Leo and his brothers to have gotten used to the idea of him as a leader.
There’s still times, mainly on missions, where Raph would unconsciously give orders to his brothers. And the others would barely give a second, perhaps a quick unsure glance in his direction, to hesitate before complying to their previous leader’s orders.
Like, yeah, it's not like they’re ignoring him or whatever, but it kinda just feels wrong.
Maybe he's the one doing this whole ‘leader thing’ wrong. Maybe he needs to be more serious. Train more, goof off less, have a better curfew (does a leader go to sleep early? Raph does at least…).
I mean, he is probably the only one of his brothers who lay in bed like this, staring at cracks across his ceiling uncomfortably through his warm and watery eyes, thinking about the way he’s failing his new purpose.
The slider had just woken up too. With an odd feeling flowing through his bones. It was like the gravity had somehow both doubled and halved during the night, feeling both heavy and weak in his bones and lightheaded at the same time.
The air in his room usually had a persistent chill but he had kicked his blanket off and was still sweating all over.
Especially around his head and neck; as if a hot blanket was suffocating his skin.
It was warm and uncomfortable just existing in his body, the lightheadedness affecting him even as he laid down, dizzying him to a degree where his head just hurt.
It all felt just wrong.
But…
He still wanted to show his brothers that he could be serious, like the leader they… deserve.
With newfound determination, he sits up and flops his legs off the mattress. The sudden momentum causing him to fall off the bed with them, landing on the cold hard floor with a thud.
A quiet groan escapes him as he forces his arms underneath him. He shakes and breathes heavily with the effort of the normally small task, but manages to sit upright.
The slider sways with exertion, but doesn’t let it keep him down- Maybe he can show his brothers that he's able to stay resilient, though maybe this isn't that kind of a situational example? At least he’s trying…
He uses the bed like a crutch and is able to stand up, gaining too much vertigo. Black spots quickly take over his vision and slowly fades away. And he walks out the door.
Leo ultimately finds himself staggering towards the bathroom. Which is luckily unoccupied.
Stepping towards the sink, the slider tries to cool down his heating— probably flushed— face by splashing it with water a few times. It gives him some momentary relief but ultimately only manages to spike his already annoying headache further. He quickly opens the mirror cabinet above the sink and reaches for the small bottle of ibuprofen, but hesitates as it rattles in his grip.
Peering inside, he notes that there’s only a few pills left.
…Should he take the ibuprofen? It would help his headache and fever a little, probably, after it kicks in in about 30 minutes… But…What if his brothers sometimes need it? And there's no left because he took it all. A good leader wouldn't do that.
He, a little harshly, places the pill bottle back in the cabinet and closes it. He turns to leave but stops. His reflection staring at him. Leo stares back.
The sick turtle looks, well, sick. His skin is a little paler than usual and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion and fever and he’s swaying slightly on his feet. (How did this even happen?)
But…It feels good. Not physically, obviously; maybe emotionally? That he’s thinking about his brothers first, like the good leader they deserve. Like Raph were and sometimes still is.
But now, the slider’s determined to at least try.
He takes a deep breath; Ok… Now, what would a good leader also do… He taps his fingers together in thought, still standing in the middle of the bathroom. It takes a few minutes of thinking for his feverishly muddled mind to come up with something and he almost instantly stumbles out of the bathroom with a sharp inhale when the thought invites itself into his head.
Leo, as quickly as he can, makes his way past the subway-car bedrooms (reluctantly grabbing a hoodie from his room on the way as he’d started to shiver) and past the kitchen. The slightest smell of eggs humoring the air around the room, but no one’s inside. Huh, perhaps the others ate breakfast without him…
And then, after a surprising amount of effort to keep his legs moving underneath him, he made it; to the newly added dojo. Leo was almost surprised when Raph wasn't there. It was almost expected. Well, he doesn't usually train right after breakfast; it always gives him side stitches.
He steps inside. But, he doesn't really know what to do now that he's here. Especially since just thinking is starting to feel like walking through molasses. He looks around the room with his half-lidded eyes, landing on the training mats and decides on starting with some simple exercises and katas after staring for a few minutes.
He sits down on a mat and starts performing some easy stretches.
They've usually been effortless the few times in the past he'd done them. So why is it so hard to do now? It's like his body and brain are not cooperating with his movements- He knows how they’re done, but it's almost harder and more straining than ever.
A bead of sweat travels down his frustrated face. He's starting to get too hot again.
Wait- that’s good! Maybe his limbs will actually move the way he wants them to now.
Spoiler alert; It didn't work. Keeping the hoodie on was dumb, it might have even made it harder, especially during the few proper katas he managed before giving up.
The training sesh’ couldn't have lasted more than 30 minutes, 45 at best. And here he is, panting and feeling like he just had the longest and most exerting workout of his life. His limbs are aching from the strain and his legs have started feeling like jelly. Head still pounding too.
Leo, as abruptly as he can without his vision blacking out, sits up from where he'd been laying on his shell with his arms and legs splayed out, trying to cool down, and chugs his sweater off of himself with a mumble; “this stupid hoodie…”. The chilled air of the dojo, a welcome acquaintance.
He stays seated on the training mat for a few more minutes to slow his breathing before stumbling to his feet. Trying to not sway as much as he did the last time, but his success was small.
He tries to think of something more to do to prove his worth capability of leadership, but his mind comes up empty. All he can think about is the way he’s so tired, and achy, and his stupid headache and that his throat is so dry.
Maybe I should grab something to drink… He feels his feet start moving underneath him.
Just as the slider steps outside the room, a familiar voice makes him bop his head up sluggishly.
“Leo! Hey-” Mikey stops in front of him and does a double take. “...Are you ok? You don't look too hot.”
Hah, more like the opposite. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” he says instead.
“Oh,” his little brother's excited expression sobers slightly at the words. “Really? We let you sleep in through breakfast. You did seem pretty exhausted after last night's mission. You were practically asleep on your feet when we got back to the lair!” Mikey chuckles at the memory.
What was the mission again? Leo huffs amused with him before it gets stiffled by a quick yawn; “Well, what did you want to tell me?”
“Oh!” The box turtle’s excited expression returns. “We’re having another air hockey tournament and we're wondering if you're joining again!”
…
Should he hang out and play with his brothers? It is pretty much just goofing off when he could be doing more… leader-y, more responsible, stuff. But, he does want to hang out with them…
Maybe he doesn't have to goof off! What if he just stays with them, but like, thinks of future missions or-or watches over them or something! That's something a good leader would do. Making sure nothing bad happens to his brothers!
“Uh, Leo?” Mikey asks him, trying to enter his gaze as the slider had begun staring into space.
“Huh?- Oh, um, I'll just watch this time.”
This time, Mikey gives him a bewildered look; “Really? You were, like, the all time champion at it during the Lair Games a few years ago.”
Instead of glowing with pride as he’d usually do at the praise, he cringes at the comment. “Well, um, not this time. As I already said; I'm tired, ya’ know?” he excuses with a fake stretch.
“I guess..?” his brother answers, unsure, before pointing his thumb behind him; “Raph and Donnie are waiting for us back at the arcade.”
“Let's go then,” Leo grins, at least he thinks so? His muscles aren't really in his favor at the moment.
The blue-clad turtle begins walking past Mikey towards the arcade, he's about to turn around to check that his brother is following him, but the momentum is suddenly too strong and he can't stop his legs. He falls forward. Not even able to save it with a stumble.
Luckily, Mikey had been following because the box turtle’s arms abruptly wraps around him, protecting him from falling flat on his face, before either of them had even processed what had almost happened. “Leo!?” Mikey squeaks and slowly begins lifting him upwards, keeping his arms around his older brother’s shoulders even as they're standing. Not that Leo’s complaining; he's not sure he'd be able to regain his balance himself right now.
Said turtle presses his palm into his eye with a faint hiss, as if that’ll relieve his headache that suddenly spiked at the vertigo.
“What was that?” Mikey continues, still clearly worried for some reason. “Are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah yeah, just peachy,” Leo removes his hand, letting it drop beside his thigh. His headache died down a notch. “I just stumbled,” and then he adds in afterthought; “sorry.”
“…Okay…?” Mikey says reluctantly, his pitch rising towards the end of the word, and he lets go.
They continue walking in an almost awkward silence. Leo, luckily, doesn’t fall and stumble much more, but still has to make an effort to not just lay down on the ground and stay there.
When they get to the arcade, Leo looks around. He’s been in there before, don't get him wrong, but he hasn’t played the games nearly as much as he used to at the old lair. Now, there are a few empty boxes littering close to the door, waiting for someone to throw them out, the old arcade machines rimming the room, luckily having avoided shredder’s rampage some months prior.
The air hockey table was placed slightly crooked in the middle of the room, the red and purple coded turtles already standing beside it, ready. There's a blackboard beside them with the title ‘Air hockey tournament III’ and their names in chalk.
Leo walks over to it and crosses his name out so only three’s left.
Raph seems to notice, and he asks confused; “Leo? You’re not playing?”
“He’s not?” Donnie whips around to face him, seemingly more bewildered than his older brother.
“Nah, not this time. I'll watch though!” he answers, even if he is itching to join. He waddles over to a small table littered with empty soda cans beside the blackboard. He pushes some cans aside and sits on top of it, so he has a clear view of the game table as his brothers start.
Not that it really helps. After a few rounds his vision starts getting blurry and double-visioned, making it hard to keep his eyes on the puck. He gives up on keeping an internal count of their points at this rate. Opting to just watch their motions lazily as the room heats up (at least he thinks it is?).
His brothers block and shoot the puck as the soft black blur goes back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth. Leo shoots his eyes to the left, then the right. Left, right, left right. It almost reminds of those tennis match videos, where you can see the crowd's head turn by each hit, all synchronized.
“You cold, Leo?” Raph asks from where he’s shooting the puck towards Donnie’s goal, interrupting his thoughts.
“Huh?” Leo blink blearily before processing what his older brother just said. “Oh, not really. I'm actually running pretty hot right now.”
“Really? You're shivering,” the snapper points out, looking his way with a puzzled look. He squawks as Donnie uses his momentary distraction to his advantage and scores a goal, before resuming to the game.
I’m shivering? The blue-cladded turtle brings a hand up towards his face, watching as it shivers back and forth slightly. Back and forth. Weird… He feels so warm and heavy he would've thought he'd just run a marathon on the way here.
Maybe I should get some water. He voices as such, earning hums of acknowledgment in return.
Leo carefully plops down from the table, he doesn't exactly want to fall again, and so begins to make his way to the door. His throat have been a bit dry and weird, this’ll probably help a bit-
You can’t just leave. Be useful.
He clenches his fists and swivels around towards his brothers: “D-does anyone else want some?” he adds, almost a bit out of place.
“That’d be nice/ Yeah, thanks,” The brains and brawn of the team answer, more concentrated on the game.
Though, the youngest of the bunch just stares at him for a few seconds, almost thinkingly, before piping up; “I’ll join!”
“I- uh, it's ok Mikey, I'll get it this time. I can bring you a bottle, if you want?”
Leo can't be a bore. Mikey should stay and have fun.
“You sure you don't want me to join you?” he almost looks taken aback. He means, Leo would usually never turn down a chance of hanging out with his favorite (and only) little brother even as a brief walk to the kitchen and back.
“Nah, it's ok. I mean, who’d keep score and make sure Dontron over here doesn't cheat?” The slider points a thumb in his purple brother’s direction.
“Scoff, as if I'd ever break the rules like you heathens,” the softshell retorts, but doesn't move his gaze.
“...Ok then, “ Mikey relents and stays put beside the score board, drawing another line in chalk as Raph scores another point with a quiet “yes!”.
Satisfied, Leo quickly turns around and continues walking towards the doorway. He'd have to be quick so that he can get back to watching over them- Whu-?
Suddenly the world tilts in vertigo. so quickly he didn’t even realize it was happening at first.
Maybe it was the momentum or perhaps his knees gave out, but he quickly finds the rough floor meeting him with its cold embrace, slight footfall vibrates through the floor as his vision promptly clocks out.