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Chapter Text

Leo ran through endless dark corridors. His feet felt like they were sinking into the stone and every step was agony, but he kept running. Scales against stone slithered behind him, getting closer and closer and closer– 

He stumbled, catching himself against a craggy wall. 

His hands came away smeared with purple. 

Donnie… 

Where was Donnie? Had Leo lost him in the labyrinth? 

The walls shifted. Spotlights shown down from high above, casting sharp shadows against the towering walls of the maze. 

Leo kept running. 

He could hear the distant roar of the crowd. Getting louder and louder and louder and louder and LOUDER AND LOUDER– 

Red-dipped claws lunged for his throat. Leo couldn’t scream as he stared into those eyes, those bottomless pools of blood. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

Her hands were on his face, twisting and burrowing and red red red red orange–

Orange burst into bright gold, infusing the world around him. Viper exploded into beams of sunlight. The walls around him collapsed, engulfed in flashes of flame. 

The warmth around him suddenly struck through his chest, burning in a familiar way. The fear evaporated. 

Leo gasped, eyes flying open. 

He sat up, shell protesting at the sharp movement as he did so. He took in everything around him in an instant. 

He was in the TV room, projector whirring but showing nothing but a warm, creamy light. Raph rested on a beanbag, his slow breaths filling the air. Mikey knelt in front of Leo, trembling hands outstretched. His eyes were wide and his irises still glowed faintly. 

“Hey Leo… sorry I woke you up. I just– you were hyperventilating and I– I just couldn’t watch you–” 

Leo reached out and grasped his brother’s hand. It was warm, like Mikey’s fingers had been under a heat lamp. Maybe it was residual ninpo, but Leo felt more whole as he squeezed his brother’s hand. 

Almost safe. 

“Thank you.” Leo’s voice was slightly raspy. His throat seemed to be extra sensitive ever since he had practically ripped his throat apart from constant screaming. He didn’t want to think about it. Just the thought of those circumstances made him want to reach for Donnie– 

Leo’s stomach dropped. 

“Donnie.” Leo whipped his head around, but he couldn’t see him. “Donnie?” He tried to leap to his feet, but suddenly realized that there appeared to be enough blankets on top of him to immobilize a small bear. “Donnie!” 

“Shhh, it’s fine!” Mikey stage whispered. “He’s asleep!” 

“Where–” 

“Just on the other side of Raph! I promise!” His forehead pinched in concern. Raph chasm, Leo thought through his panic. “Please, Leo, just trust me that he’s there. No one here would hurt him. Or you. You know that, don’t you?” 

Leo craned his neck. Peering over the mountain range that was Raph’s shell, he could barely make out a cocoon of blankets. Even completely bundled, Leo recognized the form of his twin. 

Relief flooded Leo’s lungs. And then Mikey’s words registered. Leo slowly turned his head to face his baby brother once again. 

“You’re safe,” Mikey said softly. “Please believe me.” 

“I trust you,” Leo mumbled. “I do. It’s just…” If his legs had not been pinned under the weight of dozens of blankets, Leo would have pulled them up to his plastron. “It’s just that I’m– we’re not used to being safe.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Mikey.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“Still! I can feel sad about this whole situation, can’t I? It shouldn't have happened to you.” 

“Better me than you.” 

Mikey gasped, tears filling his eyes. “Leo, don’t play that game. Not again. You promised.” 

“I did? It wasn’t on the videos of ourselves we were watching yesterday, was it?”

Mikey just stared, face screwed up. Why did he look so old? When had baby Angie grown up so much? Why had baby Angie– well that one was more easily answered. 

“After the invasion,” Mikey’s voice shook. And Leo remembered. Chaotic med bay. White bandages. Trembling, burned, stiffly bandaged hands in his. Set, tearstained faces. Yes. He remembered now. “You promised you wouldn’t do that ever again. I know you didn’t choose to be in the arena, but don’t think for a second that you deserved to be there. Or-or that it was somehow a better option.” 

“Angie–” 

“Because it wasn’t!” The tears were overflowing now, bursting out of Leo’s baby brother. “You and Donnie shouldn’t have been captured! You shouldn’t have been forced to fight! You shouldn’t have had all those horrible, t-terrible, awful things hap-pen to you. And I’m sorry that they did happen to you! I’m s-sorry, Leo. We tried to find you sooner, I swear we did! We just– I just– I–” Mikey buried his face in his hands, shoulders hitching with each sob. 

Hesitating, Leo reached out a hand to pat his little brother’s head. 

Immediately, Mikey had thrown himself at Leo, hugging him with arms and legs. He buried his face in his older brother’s boney shoulder and broke down. 

A strange, bittersweet sort of grief swelled in his chest; Mikey hadn’t hugged him like this in a long time. Scratch that, Leo hadn’t been hugged like this at all in a long time. His muscles tightened at being trapped, panic swelling inside of his chest. 

Immobilized, Leo could feel the urge to squirm, to shudder, to scream. 

But then he felt warm tears on his shoulder, heard Mikey’s shuddering breaths, felt the desperation in his baby brother’s hug. 

His baby brother. 

Mikey would never– ever– hurt him. 

At that realization, the mind-numbing terror of being trapped melted away.

Lurching, Leo wrapped his own arms around the familiar curve of Mikey’s shell. Leo squeezed as hard as he dared, trying to make up for months of lost time. 

Leo had forgotten how Angie’s hugs had a way of warming him from the inside out. Indeed, he could feel any vestiges of the nightmare and all his discomfort leave him as he felt the weight of Michel’s hug. 

“I missed you guys,” Leo found himself whispering, “so much.” He wasn’t sure if Mikey heard him over the sobs. From the way the crying got even louder, Leo guessed he had. 

“I love you, Leo. Please don’t ever think otherwise.” 

The words hit hard and sank deep. 

Leo had hoped… he and Donnie had always hoped that one day their brothers would be able to forgive them for all they’d done. And that one day their brothers could love them again. Leo didn’t think it would be so soon, especially with so little done to make up for everything he’d done. 

But Mikey didn’t lie about these things. 

If Mikey said that he still loved his brothers, then he meant it, and would continue to mean it until the end of time. 

Leo’s legs were buried under blankets, his torso was crushed under a clinging Mikey, but Leo’s soul had never felt lighter. 

“Are you really huggin’ and didn’t invite us to join?” Raph’s dubious voice rang out. 

Leo’s head swiveled to see both Raph and Donnie sitting up, blinking blearily. 

“Sorry we woke you up,” Leo said immediately. Donnie hadn’t stopped looking tired ever since they’d gotten home. He needed more sleep. 

“Nah, I can always sense when Mikey’s cryin’.” 

Mikey sniffled. “No you can’t!” 

“Uh huh, that’s what you believe.” 

“I’ve cried lots of times without you knowing!” 

Raph’s face fell. “You have? Oh Mikey…” 

“Wait, uh no, that didn’t come out right–” 

“Well good morning to all of you too,” Donnie grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Fibonacci, or something. Whatever I said in those videos.” 

Oh. 

Right. 

The videos. 

Yes.

The previous day (well, most of it) had been spent watching videos of their lives. By the time Splinter had been dragged out of bed, Leo and Donnie had choked down a hearty breakfast of champion food (yayyy). As Splinter set up the projector, Mikey, Leo, Donnie, and Raph all crowded in Donnie’s lab to essentially hack into his computer. 

“Why didn’t you write down any of your passwords?!” Raph had demanded. 

“The… brain is nature’s notepad?” Donnie suggested. For some reason, that completely disarmed Raph, and he hastily made an excuse before stepping out of the lab for a bit. Weird.  

Eventually, Donnie managed to get past the security questions with lots of help from Mikey. Because of course Mikey remembered that Donnie’s favorite breakfast was flavorless juice, or that his greatest fear was beach balls, or the exact nucleotides that made up Donnie’s DNA.  

In the hour it took to break through all the security, Raph had returned, composed once more. 

“Is your greatest fear still beach balls, Don?” 

Donnie shrugged. “I really don’t know. Other fears are just… more immediate. More pressing. More logical. Unfortunately, I am not willing to test my tolerance for beach balls… which should be some indication of how I still feel about them.” 

Leo could always tell when Donnie said something so… Donnie. Not because he himself remembered (though it often felt right when Donnie said certain things), but because Raph and Mikey would grin these big dopey grins. The opposite of that was when one of the twins said something horrifying so casually, producing pinched faces and hunched shoulders. Like when Leo had been offered painkillers and offhandedly told Draxum that he was fine because he’d learned how to ignore pain without any meds.

To be honest, Leo was sick of seeing their mouths twisted in pain, their eyes squint with sympathy, or their cheeks slacken in horror. He just didn’t know how to be the person that brought their grins back all the time. 

Even that– that feeling of needing to make them smile– was familiar. He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, they were in Donnie’s computer. 

Then came the process of locating all the recording files. 

Leo groaned, flopping down on a workbench (OW the movement was rough on his KNEE) as he’d listened to Donnie click through what seemed like every folder. The one good thing was that the more Donnie saw, the more he seemed to remember about his projects, his lab, and what he had been working on. Leo’s chest felt warm at the thought of Donnie rediscovering himself. Hopefully, he thought, that’s what the videos will do for me. 

The videos had not done that for him. 

Leo had been much too transfixed to muster coherent thought; too enthralled to apply the behaviors he saw to himself. He’d watched on, expressionless as always, but with clear fascination. 

Snippets of scenes, pieces of people, previews of places, flickers of fights, and edges of events swam across the screen. 

The videos had all been out of order, but that just made it more intriguing to see himself at different times. Even though Leo knew he was supposed to be focusing on that jaunty blue figure, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from everything else. 

Donnie had somehow captured every epic fail and every epic success. Despite the strange angles and chaotic happenings, each ‘episode’ was very well-recorded. 

In the split second before anything happened, Leo somehow knew what to expect. With some instances, he could half-quote-mumble to most of the words– like watching a movie from his childhood that he hadn’t seen in years. 

“Rad skills…” “book words…”  The book word had been ‘nigh’, hadn’t it?

The whole ordeal had felt so right. It wasn’t because they were literally watching scenes and moments from their lives, but because the movie night format itself was so familiar. Wrapped in blankets, sprawled across beanbags, surrounded by family… this was home. 

Moments whirled by on the projector. Antics, shenanigans, missions, training, mistakes, triumphs, quips, conversations, and simple moments from their lives were somehow packed into almost every second of every recording. Todd, crazy gardeners, crazy dentists, pro wrestling, crazy wizards, Baxter Stockboy, Draxum, Hypno, Sunita, and a shockingly reoccurring man who kept dropping a bag of groceries. Just a single frame was enough to job Leo’s memory of locations and interactions. 

He had remembered the feeling of wet paper (and soggy salami) on his skin as they watched the first time they faced the Foot Clan. 

He recalled their distracted fight with the Foot as they tried to watch Sydney Allen perform the Fourteen-Forty in the Tōkyō Extreme Skateboarding Finals. 

He had realized that he looked a lot like a frog in his basketball goggles. He wondered where those were. 

“Turtley-boo–” 

Big Mama flashed on the screen. Leo’s vision tunneled. That voice. His chest was imploding, caught in his constricting plastron. Donnie whimpered and buried his face in his teddy bear. 

“CLOSE YOUR EYES!” Raph had yelled impulsively. Leo had never been happier to do so, slamming them shut in a way that made his face ache. He really needed to stop almost moving it. 

Mad scuffling for the remote filled the room, followed by the click and pitched squeaking of the projector being fast forwarded.  

Some deep breathing and soft reassurances later, the twins had managed to get their heart rates under control again. Big Mama’s sugary voice still haunted the back of Leo’s mind, but he would have to ignore her distant mocking for now. Maybe the voice of Viper in his head would eat the Big Mama in his head. That would be great. 

After that, Mikey had held the remote at the ready, prepared to immediately act if anything that would set his brothers off came into frame. Big Mama, the arena, too much of the color red, anything. 

Though it was strange and overwhelming– watching a movie with themselves as the stars– Leo would have been lying if he’d said it hadn’t been enjoyable. Mikey and Raph had giggled and cringed at their past actions. Mostly Mikey commenting on how immature he acted (Leo didn’t mind, though, because that was his Mikey). On the other hand, bewildered Donnie and Leo had exchanged curious looks from time to time. 

Mostly, however, they watched with hungry rapture. 

“Fibonacci…” Donnie whispered, rolling the word around his mouth. “Yes… yes that’s it…” 

“Hot soup,” Leo whispered every time it was yelled in the recordings. “Hot soup.” He could so go for some soup. 

So many catchphrases, so many isms they each had. 

So many witty quips and barrages of puns. So many casual and easy interactions. So many instances that rippled with clear and unbridled affection. So many hugs, leans, high fives, and head pats. So many moments of love and appreciation. 

So many things Leo simply didn’t know how to do anymore. 

Yes, now he remembered things. Yes, it was informative. Yes, he knew people and places, actions and reactions, events and moments, but he did not know how to recreate them. 

Luckily, before he’d had to dwell too long on who exactly he was supposed to be, he had apparently fallen asleep. 

All of his brothers had. 

So now, Leo still lay on his beanbag, still trapped under blankets, still trapped in a non-removable Mikey hug, only just realizing that his brothers had been talking the whole time. 

Ah. Leo really needed to get better at staying in the moment. Sliding into oblivion wasn’t the best sign that his mental state was improving. Perhaps that was something the therapist Draxum had mentioned looking for would help Leo with. Even so, if he really thought about it, inattentiveness was probably not the highest thing on the Everything-Wrong-With-Leo-List. 

Honestly the fact that there was a list at all was more concerning. 

Silence filled his ears. Leo’s spine straightened and he looked around, suddenly realizing that his brothers were all looking at him. 

At some point, Mikey had released him. Leo missed the touch already. 

“We asked what you thought of Don’s videos,” Raph said gently. “Did you take any notes?” 

The old Leo– the one in the videos– would have raised his eyebrows. Or smirked. Or something. This Leo just stared. 

But he was still Leo; he wasn’t going to simply sit there and let silence take over. He was still Leo; he was going to try and make his brothers laugh. 

He jerked his head towards the projector screen. “Did he seem like the kind of guy to take notes?” It was meant to be a joke. Teasing. Sarcasm. Something. A face void of facial expressions, however, must have made Leo seem upset. 

Raph’s chasm was back. “Leo, it’s… okay to be different. It’s okay to not be the same as you were before. You know that, don’t you?” 

Raph did not understand. 

Leo didn’t want to have changed. He didn’t want to have himself be forever marred by the horrors he’d done and witnessed and become. He didn’t want to be that broken husk of a turtle. But he didn’t know how to go back to who he used to be. He wasn’t sure he even could. 

He wanted to be clever and confident (or at least appear so) like that slider in the videos. He wanted to make his brothers laugh. He wanted to stay up late with Donnie talking about anything other than the only thing they could seem to talk about nowadays. 

Raph was still waiting for a response. 

“Yeah.” 

He wished he could bring himself to make an expression. A reassuring smile would have been too much to ask, but the slight lifting of his cheeks? A jaunty lift of where his eyebrows would be? 

Too much to ask, evidently. 

“Right then,” Mikey said, clapping his hands, “I can get started on,” he checked his phone, “whatever meal time it is, and–” 

A distant noise reverberated through the Lair. 

“–just saying the path to becoming President of the United States is clear from here!!!” 

Wait a minute… Leo knew that loud, harsh voice… 

“Casey.” April’s sigh echoed up to the high ceilings of the Lair. “I seriously don’t think–” 

“The lawyer to politician pipeline is more rapid than people think, O’Neil. It is only a matter of time before I not only have my brownies in the Oval office, but I am running the Oval office! AHAHAHAHAAA!” 

Cassandra Jones’s loud laugh made Donnie jump. Leo chirped, trying to comfort his panicked twin. It worked. At Leo’s reassurance, Donnie visibly relaxed. 

The brothers looked around at the commotion, trying to pinpoint exactly where Casey was. 

“TURTLES!” 

All four turtles jumped as she barged into their space, seeming to pop into existence right in front of them. 

“IT IS I! CASEY JONES! HERE TO VISIT YOU!” 

Mikey beamed, waving. “Hi Casey! It’s good to see you!” 

“Why’re you here so early?” Raph asked, confusion deepening his Raph Chasm.

“It is eleven in the morning, red one! Surely you have all been awake and operational for at least seven hours? Sleep is for the feeble, WEAK creatures who cannot survive off of WILLPOWER ALONE!” 

“Heck yeah,” Leo mumbled. He wasn’t sure if the attempt at humor would carry over. Or if anyone would even hear him if he tried to crack a joke.  

Donnie appeared to be trying to make sense of the whole situation; Casey was… certainly a lot. “One: no? We don’t even presently possess a structured sleep schedule, and even if we did, no one in their right minds would wake up at, what,” he counted on his fingers, “ten, nine, eight… four in the morning! And two:” he glanced at Leo, “please refrain from calling us by colors. We can’t– we don’t–” He gave his bear an extra squeeze. 

Casey blinked. “Ah. Understood. What am I supposed to call you, then?” 

“Our… names?” Donnie said in disbelief. 

She thought for a moment. “Nah. I’ll think of something else.” 

April giggled. “Anyway, how’s everybody doing? Everything okay?” 

Leo nodded, deadpan as always. Donnie gave a thumbs up. Mikey and Raph both said, “yeah,” at the same time. 

“Wow, don’t everybody get overenthusiastic on me now, geeze.” 

“In terms of recent developments, we have made a few breakthroughs,” Donnie said. “I have remembered my incredibly useful old habit of recording everything. Thus, a movie night of our own adventures was in order. We will likely need several more.” 

“Yeah,” Leo added. “Those are some weird guys and I’d like to see more of them.” 

Only Mikey seemed to realize the attempt at the joke, and shot a surprised but meaningful look at his brother. Leo was grateful that somebody realized something. This was, what, the third joke in five minutes that had fallen completely flat? Leo must have lost his touch.

Casey’s face popped into Leo’s field of vision and then some. Ah yes. He now remembered her lack of personal space awareness. 

“Would it be horribly insensitive to ask of your glorious victories in combat? If it is too painful to speak of, then perhaps you could mime them to me. AHA I KNOW! Draw the fights with the BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES! I shall track them down with my bloodhounds and RAVAGE those who DARED to harm my TURTLEY FRIENDS!” 

Leo’s brain churned, trying to comprehend… that whole situation. The only thing he could manage to force out was, “You have bloodhounds?” 

“Of course! What kind of woman living in New York doesn’t have 24/7 access to bloodhounds? Now, my original question still stands.” 

“Give him some space, Case,” April’s tired voice said from somewhere behind Casey. “Can’t you tell you’re overwhelming him? Please try not to yell. Loud noises are–” 

“I do not yell! I merely ADEQUATELY PROJECT MY–” 

April slapped a hand over Casey’s mouth, rolling her eyes. “Point made, Case.” 

“MH ME MHH MH MHH MHHMHHHH!” 

Sighing, April pulled her hand towards her, toppling Casey backwards with a flapping of arms and an indignant MMFFFF! 

 “I apologize for our friend’s, er, colorful attitude this morning. She’s probably just excited to see you again after so long. We’ve been very busy and I’m sure she just wants to tell us what we’ve been up to.” 

“Yeah, we’ve barely heard from you since we rescued our bros,” Mikey piped up. He turned to Casey, who was now attempting to bite April’s fingers or pry them off of her mouth with a black and red (classic Casey) crowbar. “You were super involved with helping look for them. We figured you would have visited sooner.” 

With mighty effort, Casey managed to free her wide mouth of April’s iron grasp. She glared at the silence perpetrator, slinging the crowbar over her shoulder like a hocky stick. “Next time, my teeth will be taking your fingers, O’Neil. Anyway, to answer your question, Ora– uh, Small One. Box Boy? Spotty?” 

Mikey gagged. “No. To all of those.”

Leo fought down a wave of pure affection for everyone in the room. It felt so right to be surrounded by banter. 

“If I call you Orange as in the fruit, would that still trigger devastating flashbacks for you two?”

Donnie raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “What do you think.” 

“I guess we’ll work on your new name later, Spotify.” 

Flabbergasted, Mikey opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off with a weary look from Raph that clearly said, please just drop it. 

“Now, to FINALLY answer your question as to why I have been so mysteriously absent…” she paused for dramatic effect, lept on top of a bean bag, struck a daring pose, and brandished her crowbar above her head. “I am the reason that foul, cankerous, spineless worm known as Big Mama is in jail!”

“‘Scuse you, I think you mean we are the reason she’s locked away in Hidden City Prison. Hueso and Silkie helped too.”

“Didn’t… didn’t Leo portal her into prison, though…?” Donnie asked, clearly confused. 

“No… I didn’t,” Leo remembered suddenly. “I sensed April a few blocks away and sent her there! I don’t know what I expected you to do with her.” 

“Lock her up, duh. Which I did. Everybody say ‘ thank you, Casey Jones’, for ridding the streets of that slimeball, that spoiled goat milk, that crunchy old yogurt, that nasty–” 

April cleared her throat loudly. “Just thanking Casey Jones?” 

“Fine, fine. With the help of O’Neil and Hueso and Silkie I was the one to officially lock that wench up behind bars. Legally. Permanently. Deliciously. Victoriously! Due to my impeccable arguing–” 

“I think you mean because of my ironclad evidence, Jones.” 

“Our collaborative efforts–” 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Leo cut in. 

Donnie nodded. “Take it from the top, please. With as little talking over each other as possible. Some of us only just got our cohesive thought process back.” 

“Debatable,” Leo interjected. From the pinched looks of his brothers, he gathered that none of them seemed to realize he was teasing. Maybe it would be better if he just… didn’t try to make jokes anymore. 

Casey cracked her knuckles. And neck. And shoulders. And back. Dang she was flexible. She took a deep breath. “That vile, evil, terrible, no-good, very bad, misplaced thumbtack of a person, Big Mama, is a scummy, rich, influential, nasty wench. Unfortunately, her slimy little network is extremely vast. She’s so powerful that putting her in jail would be effective for aboooout… a month. Tops.” 

April nodded gravley. “Hueso confirmed that she has contacts and spies everywhere, and she has for decades. No prison, especially the Hidden City Prison, could hold her.” 

Freezing fists slammed into Leo’s heart as the words sunk in. 

Thousands of horrible scenarios flashed through his mind. 

Big Mama back for revenge. The ceiling collapsing as a giant spider stormed the Lair. Sticky webs on his ankles, dragging him away from his family again. Dark and cold and lonely cells. Chains on his wrist, keeping him away from his family. A furious puppet master, ready to regain her playthings if it meant tying them into knots first. 

Leo couldn’t breathe. 

She was going to come back. She always came back. How could he have thought for a second that this was the end? How could Leo have had the slightest notion of safety? 

Big Mama would not stop. Nothing could hold her. She would be back and she would take away everything he had worked so hard to get back. 

A hand rested on his shoulder. 

Leo flinched away. Vision blurring and heart thundering through his head, Leo couldn’t see or hear what his family was trying to communicate. Yet even through the spinning world of panic, his eyes met Donnie’s. Leo knew they were thinking the exact same thing. 

“Hey!” Casey yelled. She snapped her fingers in front of Leo’s face. 

He flinched again, retracting his head partway down into his shell. 

“Don’t do that!” Mikey cried. “Can’t you see he’s upset?!” 

At the same time, Raph was chewing out April. “That was really the best thing you could’a said?!” 

“Yeah yeah, I get it, Raph! We all keep messing up so don’t pretend it’s just me–”

Leo whimpered. 

He couldn’t help it. The spiral inside his brain and his fighting family around him were too much. He wrestled to keep his face neutral. If he moved even a little bit… Why couldn’t he just turn the emotions off? Why couldn’t he just turn himself off? 

Because that’s how Big Mama made you a killer, said that most awful voice inside of his head. 

Leo whimpered again, burying his motionless face in his hands. 

Donnie– it had to have been Donnie– was suddenly pressed against him, with thin arms wrapped around Leo’s shoulders. 

Quiet filled the Lair. 

There was the sound of someone elbowing someone else, a grunt, and a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” April whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you think that she’ll break out. She won’t. I promise. We’ve done everything possible to make sure she doesn’t.” 

“INDEED! FEAR NOT, turtles! The cowardly wretch will remain in prison! It is not a question. This is what I was TRYING to tell you all! The fact that the she-vermin COULD potentially break out is exactly why I go to see her big ugly face every day.” 

“As we keep trying to say before getting sidetracked,” April started, “we knew that if we were going to put Big Ugly away for good, we needed a strong legal team.” 

“ENTER CASEY JONES!!!!” 

“You’re… a lawyer? You?” Donnie asked incredulously. 

Leo understood his skepticism. Being a lawyer required years of study and skill, if Leo remembered the movies correctly. Though, if he was really remembering the TV shows correctly, then Casey Jones definitely had enough flair and dramatic timing to work in a courtroom. If Elle Woods could do it, certainly Casey Jones could do it. 

“YES! The Hidden City operates through ancient, mystic clans and some council of rock heads. As a current member of the Hamato Clan, the leader of my Brownie Clan, and a former member of the Foot Clan, as well as my credentials of being accepted to every clan I applied to, it is clear that I am the best liaison twixt the Hidden City higher ups and all sorts of clans. I run Grandma CJ’s Brownie Cult– I mean Clan on the side, of course. I started shortly after you all welcomed me into this Hamato Clan and quickly WORKED MY WAY TO THE TOP!” 

“So… are you an attorney or lawyer or… what are you?” Donnie clarified. 

“YES,” Casey said with jazz hands. “There is no human equivalent, though I estimate District Attorney would be similar in some aspects.” 

“The point is,” April sighed, clearly trying to wrangle the conversation, “she was in a perfect position to present the dark truth about the Nexus, you two, Lou Jitsu, and everything else. I mean, since Big Mama admitted to kidnapping you guys on live TV–” 

“You’re welcome,” Mikey coughed. 

“–it was a lot easier than it could have been. So that was step one: put her in jail.” 

“But when did you do this?” Leo asked. 

“Well things got pretty hectic after the Nexus burned down–”

“You’re welcome,” Donnie and Leo said at the same time, copying Mikey. Raph beamed. 

“–and I didn’t even know that Donnie was alive at that point. Leo basically portaled Big Mama right on top of where I’d gathered the police–” she snapped and pointed at the twins. “Oh yeah, I told Mikey, but y’all were still out cold. While the boys were hiding in the maze, Hueso, Silkie, and I were giving evidence (which definitely would have gotten her arrested anyway) to the Hidden City higher-ups in case we needed them to break into the Nexus for us. We headed there, and that’s when Leo’s portal opened up and she crashed into them.” 

“Who’s Silkie?” Leo whispered to Raph. 

“Cat with a crush on Dad,” he whispered back. 

Leo decided he didn’t want to ask any more questions. 

“After that, I followed the police back to the maximum security cells to make sure she got there. That’s when I got back to the Lair and found out that Donnie was alive.” 

“O’Neil contacted ME, which was the most BRILLIANT OF DECISIONS. I organized her evidence, as well as interroga– uh, interviewed several dozen people who came forward with testimonies against that slimy gut bag. People only spoke out against her once she couldn’t hurt them. Lil miss blackmail has been bothering people for YEARS, it turns out.”

April squinted, doing mental calculations. “The whole process of the trial, witnesses against her, presenting more and more evidence, yadda yadda, took three or so weeks. Congratulations, Big Mama has been an officially convicted criminal for, like, a month.” 

“AND SHE SHALL STAY THAT WAY UNTIL THE END OF TIME! THE REST OF HER SAD, MISERABLE, DANK, CLAGGY, CONFINED, TERRIBLE LITTLE EXISTENCE SHALL BE SPENT BEHIND BARS!” 

Casey was giving Leo a headache. Still, he couldn’t argue that her storytelling was unmatched. 

“So… that’s it, then?” Donnie dared ask. “She’s… dealt with?” 

April reached forward and squeezed Donnie’s hand, grinning warmly. “You never have to deal with her ever again. I promise.” 

Leo hated to ruin his twin’s sense of security, but– “But you said she had people? You said she had means of escaping!” 

“Not as long as Casey Jones lives and breathes,” Casey Jones growled. “And I should know. I check on the pile of purple pulp every single day. She’s on my way to work.” 

“Ah yes, my favorite part,” April beamed. “Check this out: Casey is–” 

“GOING TO EXPLAIN HER OWN DELICIOUS REVENGE, THANK YOU.” 

“Right, yes yes. Go on.” April leaned back, kicking her legs up onto a beanbag. 

“Revenge?” Raph asked. “Raph likes vengeance.” 

“You do?” Leo almost raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, Raph does. Shut up and listen to Casey.” 

“Yes, shut up and listen to me. ANYWAY, I go and rattle the bars of that spider’s cage every day, checking that she is still exactly where she should have been all along. And of course, I don’t just LOOK into the eyes of that cold-blooded killer who is cold not in the cool, popsicle way, but cool in the disappointing cold soup way. I tell that dirty lowlife exactly what I think of her.” 

Donnie glanced at Leo in a distinctly, I’m concerned way. 

“Once I make sure that ‘yep, the wench is there’, I go to town with my revenge. As it’s illegal to inflict physical harm on one imprisoned individual–” 

Leo leaned over to Donnie, “I bet she looked through every loophole,” he whispered. 

Donnie snorted. The sound was pure magic to Leo’s red ears. 

“–I needed to get creative. SHE psychologically tortured you two, so I, Casey Jones, made it my mission to do the same to her!” She shot to her feet with her hands behind her back, standing as straight as a sword. As she spoke she paced with straight legs, like a cartoon soldier marching. “But of course, words are this demon’s domain! Even my most meticulously crafted zingers did NOTHING! And they were great ones too!” 

She cleared her throat importantly, riffling around her boot until she violently pulled out a massive scroll. It unfurled, pooling in a pile big enough to engulf Mikey. 

“Uh, Case, do we really have to–” April started. 

“HUSH! I did not spend every available moment from when we discovered it was THIS monstrous monster that had kidnapped those two to the moment they were freed in vain! I shall read my magnum opus and you shall listen!” 

“We’ll be done by Christmas,” Mikey sighed wistfully. 

“Isn’t it spring?” Donnie whispered. 

“Exactly.” 

“AHEM!” Casey flung her arm out and something glimmered at the ends of her fingertips. She held it up to her eye, revealing a monocle. 

“Why–” 

Casey glared at April with one eye severely enlarged through the glass. Without further ado, she squinted at the list and began to read. 

“Is your name Big Mama because you’re every ‘yo mama’ joke combined? I’m convinced you’re part alpaca because of how llame-a you are! AHA THE SICKEST OF BURNS! Ursula called, she wants her gimmick back, you gimmick-stealing stealer! I crawled through my drain pipes and crushed every spider within out of mercy so they would never discover their relation to you! You’re the reason gene pools need lifeguards, you embodiment of rotten blackberry lotion.” 

Around him, Leo’s brothers were cackling. Despite the chaos and fear from only minutes ago, Leo found that he was… enjoying himself. Perhaps even better, he was highly entertained. 

It was an utterly befuddling feeling. 

“Hey Big Mama, what’s the only difference between you and a kindergartener? (then she says, ‘wot?’ in her stupid little British voice) People think it’s cute when kindergarteners use made up words! Your business is so dead, that vultures are outside of this prison every day hoping to feast on your bones!” 

“So that’s the general idea,” April started. “But–” 

“I AM NOT FINISHED, O’NEIL! THERE ARE FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SEVEN INSULTS LEFT!”

“Casey we don’t have all day! Just do one more, or something. You can regale us with your wonderful wit later, okay?” 

“FINE! And for my last insult for the time being–” Casey flung the scroll to the side, smacking Raph in the face. Her beady eyes narrowed on what Leo could only guess was an imaginary image of Big Mama. Her face split into a dark grin. 

“You couldn’t even pull Bullhop.” 

“YOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Mikey and Raph yelled. Leo snorted, and Donnie wiped a tear from his eye. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Casey bowed, clearly pleased with herself. 

“Big Mama must be so devastated by your epic insults,” Mikey grinned. “I bet she cries every day!” 

“Alas, she does not. Even with my pure pieces of poetry raking that roached name through the mud, she appears unfazed! Words are that puffed-up purple porcupine’s playground.”

Donnie rubbed his chin in a jarringly familiar and yet somehow so casual motion. “Yeah that tracks. Someone who unironically says ‘dimbily door’ doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘easily embarrassed’ type.” 

“AND YET! A few days ago a solution presented itself to me in the form of my fellow antagonist-turned-ally-found-family-goat-man! It may be unconventional but that pile of purple feces must be tortured through any means necessary.” 

“What does Barry have to do with this?” Mikey wondered. His forehead was pinched as he tried to keep up with, well, Casey in general. 

“He regaled me with a recent disciplinary tactic used on one Lou Jitsu: Slang terms.”

A feeling of pure elation thrummed through Leo’s chest. One look at Donnie told him that his twin felt it too. 

“‘Hm,’ thought I. ‘A she-demon who loves elegant and fancy words. A prim and proper plum. How would she react to the most informal form of language there is? Not just colloquialisms, but a true mockery of the language she so uses as her weapon of choice.”

“Casey… you didn’t…” 

“In perhaps the greatest form of irony that has ever been used as a torture device, I laid siege to Big Mama with a slew of teenage slang words!”  

Casey Jones cackled with enough ferocity to make the lights flicker. 

“I SCREAMED ‘YEET’ AND DABBED ON THE DEVIL UNTIL SHE CRIED!” 

Raph, Mikey, and Donnie all burst into laughter. 

Leo even felt the corners of his mouth try to lift. Phantom pains shot through his scars, puncturing the moment, but the residual joy remained nonetheless. Big Mama, felled by teenage slang words. It was just too perfect. 

Casey plopped herself down on a beanbag with such force that Mikey flew off. “That disgustingly odious wench holds almost as deep a hatred for modern lingo as we do for her entire existence! After this delightful discovery, I consulted my Brownie Clan. With the power of,” she whipped out her cell phone, squinting at text messages, “ yeet, cap, skibidi, lit, rizz, and my personal favorite, SLAY, we shall TORMENT THE TEPID TEMPTRESS TOGETHER! CRUSH THAT COCKROACH TO DUST! With my slay slang, I shall slay the un-slay sl… uh… slither…er. Slither-er. Nailed it. Or should I say, slayed it, ahaha.” 

“Is alliteration, like, your thing, or something?” April giggled. 

Casey shrugged. “It wins court cases, for some reason.”

Leo wished he felt up to smiling. If there was ever a time to smile, this was it. Hearing that Big Mama was paying big time for what she’d done to him, being surrounded by his laughing and joking family… It made him want to smile so badly. But he just couldn’t bring himself to face (face) that pain again. 

“I plan on enlisting the help of Junior. Together, we shall SHATTER her spirit!” She dabbed again. “She shall be driven into MADNESS upon witnessing my reenactments of Vines; she shall CRY as I force her to read internet discourses full of IMPROPER GRAMMAR; BIG MAMA SHALL BE REDUCED TO A SNIVELING SHELL OF HERSELF!” 

“Isn’t that a bit… excessive?” Donnie said. 

Confused faces turned to look at the softshell. 

Casey’s face darkened. For once her deadly disciplined, serious self was back. “No. No punishment in the world would be enough. Anyone who hurts my clan deserves much, much worse. You are all my family now. Any vermin who harms you will taste my wrath. Nothing is too excessive for… for her.” 

A warmth was humming in Leo’s chest. Like his ninpo, but warmer. More full. 

A full family. 

A full Lair. 

His stomach growled. 

An empty stomach. 

Mikey heard it, and his head whipped towards Leo and Donnie. “Guess I should go make some champion food for you, huh?” 

Raph pulled out his phone. “Oh yeah, Draxum texted earlier this mornin’ when we were all asleep. Leo and Don are ready to eat regular food again! Nothing too heavy, though. Just some, like, noodles and soup.” 

“Anything is better than that disgusting excuse for food we’ve been eating for, um…” Leo paused. His sense of time was severely messed up. 

Mikey rubbed his hands together, clearly itching to finally make something he knew his brothers would be eating. “Sounds like I’d better hop to it! Casey, will you be staying for,” he glanced at his phone screen again, clearly having forgotten the time since he last checked, “lunch?”

“No can do, Boxboy. I must head to work. I dropped by to share my epic tale of triumph with the twins. I’m off to work out a dispute over the true origins of a mystical artifact. You see, the Giraffe Clan and the Order of the Ostriches both claim that the Long Neck Totem is theirs, so I must go sort it all out. RIVETING! FAREWELL!” 

“Bye Casey,” Leo said drily. “Thanks for… Thanks.” 

“And tell Big Mama that we hate her, and that we couldn’t be happier that she’s right where she belongs,” Donnie added. “Oh, and while you’re at it, tell her she’s a piece of–” 

“Donnie,” Raph warned. 

“Hai,” Casey said with a slight bow in the direction of Leo and Donnie. As she straightened up, she pulled a smoke bomb out of nowhere. With a grin that stretched her whole face into animated proportions, she held it high above her head. 

“YEET!” Everyone was enveloped in a cloud of gray. 

Coughing, everyone swatted the dust away. Casey had, of course, vanished. 

“Well,” April began, “I’m staying, so–”

“Ahem.” They all turned to see Casey standing a few feet away. “Where is the exit.” 

April rubbed a hand over her face. “It’s the same place we came in.” 

“I see. YEET!” Yet another smoke bomb exploded, this one faintly red. 

Donnie squinted, hands glowing faintly purple. With what Leo knew to be a massive amount of concentration, Donnie summoned up a fan to clear the air more effectively than their waving hands could. 

Raph clapped him on the shoulder. “Nice call.” Donnie beamed. 

“O’Neil,” a voice hissed. “Where–” 

April smacked her hand into her forehead. “Past the air hockey table, up the stairs, left at the pillar with orange graffiti, and up onto the street! Do you need me to show you?” 

“CASEY JONES REQUIRES NO ASSISTANCE! YEET!” 

They all braced themselves for another cloud of smoke and coughing fit, but nothing happened. 

“It would appear that I am out of smoke bombs. LOOK AWAY!” 

As Casey dashed the direction April pointed, Raph began to laugh. A loud, deep, belly laugh that Leo hadn’t heard in far too long. Mikey joined in, tears in his eyes. April too, threw her head back. Donnie even let out a few calculated, “ha ha ha”’s. 

Leo wasn’t ready to laugh yet. But he could still revel in the feeling of enjoyment. Togetherness. Joy. No one saw, but his mouth twitched upwards. Just a little. 

The first meal was not as disastrous as one would expect. 

What happened immediately after, however, was the catastrophic failure. 

Mikey’s noodles were light and easy on the stomach, packed with nutrients, peppered with delicious blends of spices, and swam in heavenly broth. April, Splinter, Raph, and Mikey each got long, golden noodles. Leo and Donnies’, however, had been chopped into little pieces to be easier on the stomach. 

Mikey beamed as he’d served the twins their modest bowls. Food was the best way to celebrate anything in Mikey’s mind (unless there were dinosaurs and spray paint involved, of course). 

Leo and Donnie were ecstatic to have moved on from champion food, no matter what kind of downgraded meals they were now stuck with. At least Mikey hadn’t let his chef skills atrophy (much) in the time they’d been gone.  

Leo hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed interesting textures and tastes in his food. Slurping the noodles while reveling in the amazing taste was a joyous experience. 

But even more wonderful was the experience of the dinner. Sitting at a real table, surrounded by chatting family, having neat little conversations. It was all so familiar. So normal. So fulfilling. So sweet. 

Leo could tell that his family was just as overjoyed as the twins were to finally have every seat at the table filled again. 

The Hamatos were together. Complete. Whole. 

The meal wasn’t the only thing warming Leo’s insides. 

Once the last of the noodles had been slurped and the last of the broth had been sipped, April was the first to speak. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight, fam? Are we watching more movies of ourselves?” 

“Eh,” Raph shrugged. “We did that last night. It might not be best to overwhelm them with too many memories. Raph thinks we can take a little break and watch somethin’ else tonight. Movie night!” 

“Yeah, baby!” Mikey beamed, clearly riding the high of having people enjoy his lovingly-prepared food. “How does Jupiter Jim: Last Trip to the Moon II sound to you guys?” 

How did it sound? Well, it sounded familiar, but in that exact moment, Leo couldn’t place it. He’d heard the name… he just couldn’t put any sort of image to it. 

Leo was so caught up in pondering that he spoke without thinking. 

“Who’s Jupiter Jim?” 

Light conversations switched off as suddenly as a TV screen. 

Based on the look his entire family gave him, Leo might as well have revealed that he had been Big Mama the whole time.

Unbidden, he felt his face twitch at the horrified stares, very slightly dipping his head into his shell. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He could feel shame sitting heavily in his stomach, making the noodles squirm. 

Donnie bumped shoulders with Leo. “The name… means something?” He squinted. “It is certainly a catalyst in our lives, I vaguely recall.”

“You don’t remember who Jupiter Jim is?!” Mikey blurted, just a little too loudly. “He’s your favorite! Leo, you’re his biggest fan! Don’t you remember Jupiter Jim and the Invisible Blaster from Ceta Alpha Nine? Or JJ Sails the Seven Galaxies? Come on, you have to at least remember–” 

“Michaelangelo,” Splinter said. “You are not helping.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it! It’s– it’s okay!” April said with an awful forced smile. She was at least trying to act casual. “Maybe we could watch the first Jupiter Jim movie, yeah? Jupiter Jim: Space Hero. You’ll get to experience everything again and I’m sure you’ll love that. We’ve been talking about doing a full JJ Marathon for a while, so, uh, this seems like a great time to do it. We’ll, um, just totally start over.” 

Leo had a feeling she wasn’t just talking about the series. 

“Y-yeah!” Mikey added hurriedly, trying to fix his blunder. “That one’s a good jumping-off point.”  

“I… don’t know.” Donnie’s face was skeptical. “If we forgot this whole huge series, then, how important to us was it really?” 

Mikey and April wilted. Raph looked like he was drowning. 

Splinter rubbed his chin as he carefully picked his next words. “Jupiter Jim was not integral to your survival in the– over the last few months. It is highly likley for you to have forgotten about certain movies, as they were less important than survival. Still, that does not mean that Jupiter Jim is no longer important to you. I’m sure you will recall everything as you relieve such crucial media. And after, we can watch every Lou Jitsu movie.” 

“We remember Lou Jitsu,” Leo said suddenly, desperate to prove that he remembered something. Desperate to prove that he belonged in this family. Desperate to stop the devastated looks. Desperate to be Leo and no one else. “We fought in his name a lot of the time. Big Mama got the copyright, or something, to use him to promote us. We’re Lou Jitsu approved.” 

The hissed conversations around the table fell silent yet again. 

Leo sensed that he’d made another mistake. 

Splinter couldn’t meet his eyes. 

And there was that horrible look on everyone’s face again. That look that told Leo he’d said something so awful and messed up. He hated it. His eyes flicked to Mikey. Mikey could fix this. Mikey and his need for everyone to stay happy and get along and– and– 

Mikey looked far too old. Far too serious. 

He had changed so much. Leo’s stomach squeezed. He could feel acid at the back of his throat. But even that burning was nothing compared to the itching silence, the looks being thrown left and right, the stares tracing Leo’s plastron and face–

The face that couldn’t make an expression in Mikey’s direction said, help me! He couldn’t make a single expression. Under all of their gazes, he felt like he was back in the arena. 

Back in the spotlight. 

Back fighting for his life. 

Back to being nothing. 

His gut roiled. 

Leo stood up. 

His chair screeched back and fell over with a bang. 

He bolted. 

Well, bolted as much as he could with a knee that shot agonizing spikes through his leg. Bolted as much as he could while actively limping. Bolted as much as he could with one hand clutched over his mouth and the other holding his stomach. 

The New Lair was still confusing to him, but at least Leo knew where the bathroom was. 

The one good thing about throwing up his first real meal was that at least Leo’s mind stayed blissfully clear through the whole ordeal. He was more focused on the nasty experience that vomiting was. 

All he could do was kneel on the cold floor and squeeze his eyes shut as he threw up again and again and again until there was nothing left. 

With a burning throat and streaming eyes, Leo finally spit out the last glob of bile. He coughed, gasping through an aching windpipe; every single muscle in his body felt stretched to the point of snapping. 

Empty of everything except misery, Leo slumped backwards. His shell hit the wall opposite the toilet. He couldn’t stop shaking. Why did every motion have to hurt? Why did every attempt at family bonding seem to end in disaster? Why wasn’t Leo getting better? Why did he still feel like he was a husk of who he should be? He hated it. 

He hated the gagging and dry-heaving and hiccupping. 

Hated not being in control of himself. 

Again. 

Panting, Leo clenched his muscles, trying to quell the tremors. It was no use. His neck twinged with every movement. 

Leo crawled to the edge of the sink and pulled himself up. Between the wobbly legs and deep ache through his knee, he could barely support himself. He wiped his mouth, panting. 

In an attempt to feel less icky, he washed his hands, scrubbing them until the icy water had numbed them. It was a mistake using such cold water. Now he was shaking even worse. 

And then Leo made his biggest mistake yet. He made the absolute worst mistake possible. 

Leo looked up. 

Into the mirror. 

Reality shattered, but the mirror did not. 

It should have. 

The mirror should have splintered into thousands of pieces. It should have folded in on itself from the weight of what it reflected. It should have gone dark, filled with static, or simply showed nothing at all. 

Leo 

No

Astros

No

Crimson 

No

Baby Blue  

NO 

A shell of whoever he was stared back at him. 

All he saw was contradiction upon contradiction. Suffused into the reflection was no one and nothing, yet every moment of pain etched everywhere. Haunted and empty eyes, yet too much to take in. A blank face that trembled with emotion. The mirror should have shattered under the weight of everything he saw through the glass. The sheet of lies. The echo of truth. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that he hadn’t seen his reflection in months (yes it had). He’d forgotten (no he hadn’t). It wasn’t that he didn’t remember what he looked like (yes it was), he just hadn’t expected…

…this. 

He didn’t remember very many of the events that occurred after he and Donnie had woken up in the medbay. Most of his memories were hazy, drugged, and confused. 

He did, however, remember when he’d finally laid eyes on Donnie in such a brightly lit space. In the arena, you never looked too closely because if you did, you would buckle under the weight of it all. Home, under flat, white light, Leo had been able to look closely. 

And he wished he hadn’t. 

Leo hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Donnie’s hollow cheeks, shattered eyes, and crosshatching of scars that hurt Leo on a level he couldn’t express. His eyes had traced the chunks taken out of Donnie’s soft shell; the fang scars, the claw marks, the mangled surface of the leathery shell. 

And in that moment of grief, he’d distantly realized that he must have looked just as bad. Possibly worse. 

So Leo had avoided mirrors. 

Averting his eyes from any reflective surface, keeping his head pointed resolutely downwards whenever he used the bathroom, covering as many mirrors as he could without seeming suspicious, he had managed to avoid glimpsing himself in any capacity. 

Leo just didn’t want to see what he’d become. 

He was fearful of staring into the cold eyes of a murderer and realizing that he was the one looking through them. 

He was afraid that he wouldn’t recognize whoever stared back at him. 

He was scared he would recognize the vicious face plastered on posters around the arena.

And worst of all, Leo was terrified that it wouldn’t be that bad. 

If his scars weren’t as horrible as the agony that they’d been carved from, then how could he face (face) his family? How could he justify the panic attacks and the nightmares and the refusal to make an expression and the flinching whenever something got too close or moved suddenly towards him? 

If Leo’s scars were just as Viper had intended for them to be when she sliced along preexisting lines– invisible– then how was he supposed to bear it? The burden of marks that no one else would notice, inevitably forgetting something that Leo would forever remember… he didn’t want to go through it alone. He didn’t want to be the only one to know how bad it had been. 

Leo had been entirely alone whenever Viper had attacked him. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

So he had avoided mirrors. 

He could only hide from them himself for so long. 

Draxum had said it would take a long time for his and Donnie’s bodies to heal because of how accustomed to mystic treatments their immune systems had become. 

So even after weeks of resting… 

It all looked so fresh. 

That turtle in the mirror was not one he knew. Desperate pinpricks of light shining out of dull and darkened eye sockets. Cheeks that were still hollow enough to cast shadows.  Six neat holes in his plastron, each surrounded by an imperceptible web of thin fractures. The shadow of the spider brooch still sat outlined on his chest. Knicks and scratches and slices that had already turned into subtle scars.

And of course… 

The obvious. 

Sliced stripes.

Twin scythes curving inward. 

‘Scars’ was too soft of a word. 

They still appeared, at least to him, as barely-closed scabs. 

Raw divots bordering the inside curves of his red (red red red why did that color have to follow him everywhere) markings. 

Subconsciously, Leo figured that from a distance they wouldn’t be too noticeable. Especially if he ever wore his blue bandana again. That almost made it worse. Maybe they would become the nearly-invisible burden that he alone would be forced to bear. 

Yet in the reflection welling up before him they were crimson canyons. Fractures between plate tectonics, ready to burst and burn and crack down to his core again. 

If he’d had anything left in his stomach, he would have thrown up again. 

Who was this husk staring at him? What had happened to who he used to be? Where was that smile that said so much and hid so much all at the same time? 

What was he supposed to do now? 

How could he move forward when just looking at the scars made him feel her claws again. They were burning, stinging, his ears were ringing ringing ringing ringing with laughter. Shrill, scraping, vicious laughter. 

Baby Blue. Baby Blue Baby Blue blue blue blue red red markings red blood red eyes her eyes she was watching him she was here she was on top of him again and his face hurt it would never be the same again he would never be the same it HURT he couldn’t breathe he could feel her weight pressing on his lungs and there was something on his chest and he was seeing red. Red red red red red red red red red orange–

Orange. 

The orange from earlier. 

The one that had pulled him out of the nightmare. 

He let the hands (small and soft and scarred) squeeze him. Ground him. Pull him from yet another terrifying moment. 

“–and out… and in… and out… and in–” 

“M-M-Mi–...k–” 

“Shhh, shhhhh, it’s okay, Leo.” 

Leo. 

Right. 

When would he stop having to be reminded–  

He thought of the reflection. No. Leo was not right. 

He shook his head. “Not– not Leo–” he gasped. Shaking. Shaking apart. 

“Yes you are. You just need to breathe, okay? I-I don’t know exactly how to help you, so, uh, so Donnie is on his way right now. Until then, you need to breathe, Leo.” 

He raised a shaking hand and pointed up at the mirror (since when was he on the floor?). “Not Leo,” he choked. Cold, hard tile seemed to seep into his legs. His knees ached. 

Understanding dawned on Mikey’s face. “You saw your reflection.” It wasn’t a question. 

Leo whined, eyes sliding shut. 

“You don’t look exactly the same… That’s okay! It would be weird if you hadn’t changed at all, right? I’m sorry I got upset over JJ just now… It’s okay that things are different and I have to learn to deal with the changes. You’re going to be okay, Leo. I promise.” 

“She almost tore my face off.” He could feel himself fighting to make an expression. To crumple in pain, or slacken in exhaustion, or screw up in some vain attempt to keep himself from feeling. “She ripped me apart and I have to live with that. I have to look at that.” His voice rose. “I have to be reminded of what she put me through every day of my life. She destroyed everything I am and I’m just supposed to LIVE WITH THAT?!” 

Mikey pulled Leo into a hug. He was so warm. “You’re still Leo, no matter what happened to you! You’re still my brother and that’s not gonna change because of what you look like or what you went through. I promise that Raph and Dad and April and Donnie and I don’t see you any differently.” 

“You don’t understand!” Leo shoved his little brother off of him. 

“Then help me understand!” Tears bloomed in Mikey’s eyes. He reached forward to hold Leo’s hands, as if that would do anything. “I wanna help!” 

“You CAN’T!” 

His face burned. Leo wrenched his hands out of Mikey’s grasp and pressed them over his eyes. He was trembling. And dizzy. “You don’t know what it’s like to not recognize yourself. To not remember yourself. To not know who or what you’re supposed to be. I don’t– I don’t–” 

He couldn’t hold back any longer. 

Careful control snapped like an elevator cable. 

Leo’s face crumpled. 

He could feel every muscle, every twitch, every twist, and every jolt of his face as it pulled itself into an expression. 

The first one in months. 

Sore, unfamiliar, painful sensations set into his features as Leo’s face twisted into an expression of utter agony. She’d promised that he would feel her marks whenever he moved his face. She had been right. 

He’d folded into himself. Furrowed forehead, grit teeth, screwed up eyes. And through it all, the slashes burned. Branded forever. 

Leo was making a noise. Almost soundless, almost imperceptible, but some sort of silent whine tore through him. No sound, facial expression, or even words could possibly express the grief that pinned him in place. 

Frozen on the floor, stuck in himself, immobilized in a moment. 

Mikey’s hand tentatively rubbed his shoulder. “Leo, it’s going to be okay–” 

Leo exploded before he even registered that he was screaming. “NO IT’S NOT! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND AND YOU CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND AND YOU CAN’T HELP ME, MICHAELANGELO! NO ONE CAN. You can’t IMAGINE what it’s like to have DEATH on TOP of you LAUGHING her head off as she SLICES your FACE and makes you BEG to keep your EYES. She was going to EAT THEM, MIKEY. SHE WANTED TO EAT ME! SHE TORE INTO ME AGAIN AND AGAIN AND I’M STUCK RELIVING IT AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND– YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE! She took EVERYTHING from me! EVERYTHING that I am– that I WAS. AND BECAUSE OF THAT I CAN’T BE LEO ANYMORE! YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY–”

“STOP IT!”  

Mikey was crying. 

Guilt cracked through the already jagged emotions, making Leo pause. Of all the emotions he’d come to expect from Mikey, regret was not one of them. 

“Stop it, please!” He put his head in his hands (hands still shot through with scars Leo had put there). “I-I’ve had enough yelling. I don’t want to do this again. I don’t want to fight anymore. Please… please stop.” 

But Leo couldn’t stop. The mask had crumbled and every feeling at once poured out. His facial muscles cried out from so much use. 

Leo couldn’t tell if he was hyperventilating or sobbing or laughing. He pressed his hands over his face, feeling the scars burn at the touch. 

He was too out of breath to keep yelling, but words were pouring out of him. The horrible thoughts that had filled his mind in the darkness of his cell came coughing up like blood. “There is nothing you can do to understand. I don’t want you to have to understand. I d-don’t want anyone to know what this feels like. I don’t wa-ant anyone to-to ever go through something like thi-is. B-but that me-eans that no one– n-no one can help-p m-me.”

Caught in the creases of his crumpled face, the tears seemed to drip from everywhere. Fully in the thralls of a sobbing fit now, Leo’s breaths were short and shallow. The room spun. 

“I– don’t– wa-ant to-o fe-el– like– thi-is. I h-hate thi-is.”

Distantly, footsteps and voices echoed through the bathroom. 

“–happened?!” 

“–sorry, I couldn’t– ….no good with emotions anymore!”

“–fix this, I can fix this, I just… Just, help me…” 

Different hands grabbed Leo’s wrists. Not Mikey’s tentative touch, no. A firm, desperate grip. 

Donnie had arrived. 

He pulled, and Leo stood with only some steadying assistance from Mikey. Blindly, he stumbled a few steps before the bright bathroom light was left behind him. In softer, dimmer light, his shell slid down the hallway wall. 

Leo’s sobs wracked his whole body. His throat already ached from the strain. Disjointed sentences fell from his lips, but not even he knew what he was saying. 

“Leonardo.” 

Oh.

Well– 

Well at least that settled that. If Donnie still thought of him as Leo then surely he must be– he must still somehow be– 

“Leo, take a deep breath with me.” 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t get a hold of himself, or of his breathing. The world continued to swirl around him. Melting around him. Everything was falling apart. Things had been going fine earlier that day. Why was Leo breaking down into a disgusting heap of anguish now? 

“Because you had to feel these feelings at some point,” Mikey whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay to let it all out.” 

“I– s-s-sor-ry…” 

Mikey rested his head on Leo’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Doctor Feelings understands.” 

Leo managed to take a single deep breath. Shaky and thick, but still deep enough that the world solidified. One breath led to another. And another. 

And then Donnie began to talk to his twin. 

Leo did not hear the words. He could not have reiterated what was said. He couldn’t even be sure that Donnie spoke in real sentences. But Leo heard his voice. 

He heard the flat, plowing reassurances of his twin. He heard the effort that was put into each word. Though Leo didn’t comprehend anything that Donnie said, he understood exactly what Donnie meant. 

Donnie knew everything. Donnie knew what Leo had been through. Donnie knew what no one else could. He could do what no one else could. Donnie could fix anything and everything and Donnie could understand the incomprehensible. Donnie spoke with the emotionless passion that he alone could exude. 

The drone of Donnie’s voice, the unheard promises, and the jumble of words and phrases wove the rope that pulled Leo back into the present. The tide of Donnie’s matter-of-fact tone washed out the red that clung to Leo’s mind, smoothing the facial expression back into the slack mask of nothingness. He would only remember the comfort and love and seeped into his bones. 

Because he was loved. 

Donnie didn’t need words to express that. 

His breathing had evened out and he knew where he was, at least, but Leo still didn’t hear what Donnie was saying. He simply noticed the pinched pain on Mikey’s face.

Leo didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He didn’t want to have to make any more facial expressions. It wasn’t worth it. 

But… but who was he if he lived behind empty eyes and a monotone mouth? He didn’t want to be this husk anymore. It hurt to move his face but it ached to keep himself so closed off. 

Donnie– wonderful, understanding, learning-how-to-deal-with-emotions Donnie– was still talking. And finally, finally, Leo tuned in. 

“–you don’t want to feel like this. I understand. We understand. None of us want to feel like we do right now. I want to get better– I want both of us to get better. But I don’t remember what that’s like.” 

Mikey– sweet, empathetic, unable-to-regulate-these-particular-emotions Mikey– looked like he didn’t know who to yell affirmations at. He just looked… desperate. 

Donnie continued. “I’m trying. We’re all trying. One day we’re going to be all better. Maybe. Probably. One day you and I are going to look in the mirror and we’re just going to see Leo and Donnie again. Can you imagine?” 

“N-no…” 

“But you will! You guys will get better.” Mikey seemed to be cycling through every emotion in his repertoire, and he’d landed on determined. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but things will get better. Wanna know why? Because we don’t quit on each other! So every single day, Raph and Dad and April and I are gonna be working to make things better for you guys. You’re not alone in this.”

Leo honestly could not believe how mature Mikey had become. While it was sad to see his baby brother growing up, Leo couldn’t help but be proud of how far he’d come. 

Instead of simply being emotionally mature, Mikey was just becoming…mature. 

Donnie jostled Leo’s shoulder. “Look at you, you’re making an expression again! It’s not a happy one, but it’s an expression. And that is good to see, no matter how painful it is. Do you understand that, Leo?” 

Leo nodded. 

Because he was indeed Leo. 

He trusted his family. If they saw him as Leo, he was Leo. If they thought things would improve, then it would happen. Hamatos could do anything. Especially when they were not alone. 

Anatawa Hitorijani. 

Hiccuping a few final times, head pounding, eyes burning, face aching, chest heaving, Leo’s tears finally abated. He took some more deep breaths to steady himself.

“There we go.” Mikey’s gapped smile flickered into existence like a streetlamp switching on. 

Untangled from the emotions of earlier, Leo’s guilt was back. 

“Mikey, I’m sorry I lost control. I’m sorry I yelled and stressed you out. And threw up the food you made. And… yeah. Yeah I’m sorry. That was not a very good brother thing to do.” Even as he apologized Leo felt nauseous, as he always did when he knew he’d been a bad brother. 

Mikey bumped his shoulder against Leo’s. “It’s okay! You’re still an awesome brother. Of course I forgive you for everything! And, uh, I understand that you do and say things you don’t mean when emotions run high. I have some recent experience with that.” At Donnie’s questioning look (and Leo’s complete lack of expression), Mikey sighed. “Raph and I fought a lot when you guys were gone. Dad and I fought. Draxum and I– Okay so maybe I just fought with everyone.” 

“Dang, Dr. Delicate Touch must have been having a field day,” Donnie smirked. 

“Not really. I was just mean. And immature. And upset. So I was less like Dr. Delicate Touch and more like, I don’t know, Doctor… Rude?” 

Leo made a noise that was a few steps away from being a laugh. “Don’t tell me you got another one.”

Raph popped into his field of vision. “Nope, Raph can confirm. Very rude. Whole new Mikey.” 

Leo clutched his chest. Donnie’s hands flickered with ninpo. Mikey yelped. 

“When did you get here?!” Mikey demanded. 

“Raph got here literally two seconds ago.” He gestured to the three of them on the floor, the tear tracks still etched on Leo’s exhausted face, and the clear comfort formation the other two had formed around Leo. “Raph steps outside to clear his head for ten minutes and comes back to… this whole situation. What the heck happened?!” 

Mikey opened his mouth but no sound came out. He glanced at Leo, clearly unsure of what, exactly, to say. 

The answer came to Leo like a buzz of electricity under his ribs. A striking idea that left a foreign feeling of mischief to settle on his once-silver tongue. 

“Oh…” Leo said airily, “just some self reflection.”

Three heads whipped towards the slider. 

Everyone went so instantly silent that the distant sounds of a random New Yorker bellowing at a can of beans were faintly distinguishable. 

“Now wait a moment–” 

“Did Raph just hear–” 

“Leo!” Mikey sprang to his feet, jumping up and down like a pogo stick. “Was that a pun?!” 

Though it sent needles of pain through his face, Leo offered a slight smile. “What? It’s how I cope.” 

Donnie snorted. At first, Leo thought it was out of exasperation, but then he snorted again. Like a uranium bomb going off, Donnie exploded into a fit of laughter. “You– pffft– had an existential crisis– wheeze– over seeing yourself in the mirror– ha HAAA– and you call it self reflection?!?!” 

Mikey threw his head back in a cackle, cawing in his Mikey way. Raph joined in, guffawing now that he knew the context. 

“I feel– so bad for laughing,” Mikey wheezed with tears in his eyes. 

“We’re terrible people!” Donnie crowed, quite literally rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach. 

“The worst!” Raph agreed, holding the wall for support and gasping between deep belly laughs. 

Leo blinked. No one had ever reacted to one of his jokes like this. “I know that laughter is a natural release of tension, but dang , fam. For you to be laughing this much, your anguish must be pretty recent. You could call it… hot off the stress.”

Raph sank to his knees, smacking the floor in time with every, “HA HA HAAA!” 

“I can’t brEATHE,” Mikey wheezed. 

“It’s not even that f-funny!” Donnie managed to gasp. “‘Hot off the press’, WOW. That one was– ckkkkkt– so ba-a-ad.” 

“Aw, come on Don, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s not funny but it sure is… pun-ny.” 

Three outbursts of even more laughter echoed through the Lair. 

“BOYS! What is going on?!?” Splinter called from somewhere. 

“Just reclaiming my spot as the jo-King!” Leo called back. Another wave of laughter swelled between his brothers. Some sort of dam had broken, and their pent up worry seemed to leave them in the form of laughter, just as Leo’s left him in the form of puns.

“Well come here! I have something for you.” 

The brothers all picked themselves up off the floor. Leo’s knee had seen far too much action for the day, but he made due by leaning against the wall. Though still grinning and giggling, Raph noticed. Of course. Raph always noticed. Leo didn’t want to be carried, but he could lean on Raph as they walked. 

Tripping and teasing all the way to the TV room, Leo couldn’t help but feel lighter than he had in ages. 

When he saw Splinter, however, he stopped. His dad knelt in the center of the rug with two little boxes in front of him. Sobering up, the turtles solemnly filed in to kneel in a line in front of him; they knew a ceremony when they saw one. 

“What’s–” Raph started, but Splinter held up his hand. 

“My sons. Leonardo. Donatello. You are home. You are free. But you are different. I know that the changes you have been forced through have been very difficult on you. I offer you these gifts in the hope that you will feel more like yourselves. If you do not wish to accept them, I understand it completely.” 

Apprehension filled Leo’s chest as the small box was pressed into his hands. With slightly shaking hands, he lifted the lid. What could his dad possibly– 

Blue fabric.

Smooth and liquid as ever, the bright blue bled out of the box. The next thing Leo knew, he was holding an unfurled mask in his hands. Blank eye holes stared through him. 

A thousand sensations and emotions rushed through his mind. 

Blue swallowed up in black, disappearing into the folds of a ragged cloak forever. A blue bandana tied around Raph’s knee after a skating accident many years ago. Pink vines grabbing at his mask, dangling him off of a building. Long tails that rippled in the breeze. Soft, well-worn fabric that always fit the way it needed to. His brothers taking turns tying his mask after the invasion when he’d been too beat up to lift his arms above his head. Tossing the ribbons over his shoulders sassily when he said something particularly cocky. Tearing it off after a particularly bad right with Raph, yelling, “I’m not a leader! This isn’t the color a leader wears!” Sitting at his dad’s knee, wiggling with excitement over getting to wear a blue bandana just like Jupiter Jim had in Jupiter Jim: The Desert of Doom IV when Jupiter Jim had worn a blue bandana to signify that he had joined the Sky Bird team in the desert race. 

Oh. That’s who Jupiter Jim is, Leo realized. I see why forgetting that made everyone upset. 

The fabric was soft between his fingers. It was the exact shade of Leo’s soul. The lengthy tails ended in perfect points. The eye holes seemed to gaze at him reproachfully, as if to say, took you long enough. 

More familiar than anything else, it was Leo’s mask. It was a piece of his soul. 

But just like Leo and Donnie, it wasn’t the exact same as it had always been. 

Tiny patterns were embroidered on the edges. Upon closer inspection, Leo realized that they were the Hamato Clan crest, stitched over and over and over and over again. Splinter had always held a secret passion for sewing. 

Held in Leo’s hands was a nickname, a theme, an identifier, a lifetime of always choosing the blue raspberry candies for one reason only. Held in his hands was the window he winked through, the lens he looked at the world through, a completely constant accessory (but oh it was so much more) for the majority of his life. Held in his hands was the only kind of mask that never hid anything, the way he both fit in and stood out from his brothers, the thread that elevated him from a teenage mutant turtle to something more. Held in his hands was one fourth of a set, the mark of the life he lived, the blue band of brotherhood, and rippling ribbons of what was right. Held in his hands was everything he had ever been. Everything he had ever lost. Everything that had been taken from him. 

Held in his hands was the essence of Hamato Leonardo. 

He’d lost everything the day he’d lost to Viper. Himself, his smile, his joy, his peace, his laughter, his security, and his mask. And he had been so sure he’d never get any of it back. 

But here it was. 

The physical form of what was ripped away was made anew; light and silky and etched with extra love. 

What identified Leo as Leo was finally in his grasp again. 

All he had to do was put it on. 

But he didn’t know if he could. 

Such a heavy piece of fabric, soaked with blue blood and drenched in doubt. 

Symbolism aside, he wasn’t even sure that having something over his scars was a good idea. The rubbing, the friction, the adherence to his face would agitate them, right? 

Or was he just scared that he wasn’t fit to wear his mask anymore? Would he feel like a fraud trying to match his brothers when he himself was a match left to burn too long? Brittle and colorless, could he embrace the blue? 

Baby blue. 

She’d taken everything from him. 

“Leonardo?”

But Leo had it back now, didn’t he? 

“Leonardo!” 

Leo blinked, crashing into the present. Still kneeling in front of his father, still surrounded by his brothers. Still clutching the blue mask in shaking hands.  

Splinter’s clawed hand rested gently on his knee. “My son. It is okay if you are not ready.” Carefully, he began to tug the mask out of Leo’s hands. 

Panic spiked through him. His fingers curled around the bandana. 

Not again. 

“No.” 

He wouldn’t lose it again. 

He would not lose himself again. 

“I’ve got to try,” he whispered. He raised his head to meet Splinter’s gaze. “I want my mask back.” 

“May I tie it for you?” 

A distant memory flew into Leo’s mind. One where he’d insisted his dad tie the blue bandana so that everyone could see the red stripes. The thought put an ache in his heart. Everything had changed. Well, he thought as he ran his finger and thumb over the mask, not everything. 

He nodded. 

Splinter stood behind him. “Ready when you are.” 

Leo took a deep breath. It was going to be fine. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the blue mask into place. 

Gentle hands took the tails from him, tightening and tying them with familiar tugs. Even after Splinter stopped, Leo was afraid to open his eyes. Clenched eyes and clenched hands and he couldn’t breathe and– 

“There you are, Nardo!” 

Leo’s eyes snapped open. 

Donnie grinned back at him. Donnie, donning a purple mask once again. Donnie, staring at him with those big, curious eyes through the perfectly shaped holes in his mask. It covered up most of the sallow skin. It covered up his dark circles. It covered up the scars Heinous Green had left across his skill. 

Leo couldn’t help but let out a sudden sob. His twin. His real, whole twin was kneeling in front of him. “Donnie. You’re back.”  

“No, you’re back!’ 

He was. It was Leo who sat inside this mask. It was Leo who wore this mask. It was Leo. Mask or no mask. It was snug. It was fitted. The feeling of facial fabric took all focus from the ache of his scars, and things began to feel right again. 

Reassured by the familiar weight and feel of the mask, it was hard to recall the trepidation of only a few seconds earlier. For carrying the entire weight of his sense of self, the mask was lighter than the sky it reflected. 

How could he have thought the mask would make his scars worse? Like Donnie had held him together between the fights in the Nexus, the mask held his face together. The fragments of his face felt pressed into place, held fast and snug by the slight pressure of the mask. With the mask Leo would not split apart. With the mask he could not fall apart. He’d never burst apart. He would not crumble to pieces because he had his family around him, as snug as the mask. 

“There he is,” Raph grinned. “How does it feel to have your mask back?” 

The electric burst built up in Leo’s chest again. He wanted the laughter back. He tossed the long ends of his mask over his shoulder. “Oh come on Raph, we don’t have time to get into all those de- tails.” 

“Booooo,” Donnie said flatly, even though mirth (and tears) danced in his eyes, made brighter by his own mask. “You could do better.” 

“I’m rusty!” Leo defended. “It’ll take some time to mask- er my craft once more.”

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day, Mikey burst into tears. Once again, he tackled Leo in a hug that used all of his limbs. The two teetered for a moment before crashing to the floor. Luckily, as Leo was still kneeling, he didn’t fall far. 

“You’re so back!” Mikey cried. 

“What am I, a parking meter?” Donnie drawled, joining in the jesting. 

“Well you’re not quite back yet,” Raph smirked. He bowed deeply, presenting a Sharpie marker. 

“Dramatic gasp! Oh thank Copernicous! I knew something didn’t look quite right.” Donnie immediately set to work. Out of practice and still getting his fine motor skills back, Donnie’s strokes were jerky. But they were eyebrows nonetheless. Years of drawing the same shapes every single day made the movements second nature, even if the execution was a little off. He turned to look at Leo, raising the freshly drawn specimens. “How does it look?” 

“Looking sharp,” Leo said, flicking the marker cap at Donnie. 

Mikey looked up from where he'd buried his face in Leo’s plastron. He leapt to his feet. “Donnie! You got your eyebrows back!” 

“Well of course.” Donnie raised a freshly applied eyebrow. It was clear he was trying so hard to be himself again. Leo was so proud and so relieved to see him acting in such a familiar way. “No amount of trauma can keep a turtle from his magnificent eyebrows.” 

Now it was Donnie’s turn to get tackled in Mikey’s four-limbed hug. 

They both laughed all the way down. 

Leo threw himself forward, wrapping both Donnie and Mikey in the tightest hug he could muster. “I missed you,” he whispered to his twin. 

Donnie widened his hug to clutch Leo back just as tightly. “And I missed you.” 

“I missed you guys too!” Mikey cried, sandwiched between them. “You’re so back! Leo and Donnie, Donnie and Leo!” 

They all lurched as Raph joined the hug, encircling them all in his strong, safe arms. “Just look at you! Good as new!” 

Leo did look at himself. He’d caught his own eye in the mirror. The scars were still there, just as horrible as they had been half an hour ago when he’d seen his reflection. But now he had a mask. Now he had something to cover parts of the scars. Now he had who he truly was superimposed on what he had been made to be. 

Leo looked into the mirror, and a strange mix of who he used to be and who he currently was looked back at him. 

It still hurt. It still hurt to not fully recognize that face. But the blue splitting his face– in a good way, like a wide grin– the blue, he knew. 

He looked from Donnie (who was looking and acting more like the Donnie he’d lost by the second) to the reflection of Leo (who was looking more like the Leo he wanted to be again by the second). Right then and there, in the arms of his brothers, Leo decided that he needed to be that turtle again. 

Things were not the same. Things would never be quite the same. But his mask was still the same blue. And Donnie’s was still the same purple. And they still had each other. And they still had a chance. 

Just because things had changed didn’t mean that Leo had to give up on himself. He could still be Leo. A different Leo. A changed Leo. A new Leo. But Leo nonetheless. 

And though it hurt, though it might always hurt, Leo took the first step towards being the brother, turtle, ninja, and person that he wanted to be. And surrounded by family, encircled with the blue hue of himself that he’d bled for, looking and feeling more like his old self than he had in months and months, it was easy to take that step. 

So Leo smiled. 

A real smile. 

Small, stiff, weak, lopsided, and probably a little pained, and yet he smiled anyway. It was still a smile. 

His stiff facial muscles cried out, his scars stretched, and lip might have split. But the sight of his smile brought broad beams to every single face in the room, so that was a start. 

“There it is!” Donnie cried. “That’s my twin right there! My pun-spewing, blue-clad, grinning-like-an-idiot twin!” 

“I love you guys,” Leo whispered, feeling his smile grow. 

Things were getting better. 

It was going to be okay.