Chapter Text
Winter. The snow came down in fat, moist flakes before freezing deep. He could swear he heard the pavement above him groan and crack under the weight of ice, huddled together with his brothers as the storm raged above. They stuck to the dojo in weather like this - the feeble natural light filtering through the roof supplemented by the warmth of every heat lamp they could spare. It is enough to keep the worst of the cold away from them.
It used to be that Splinter would huddle with them during the worst storms, his sons taking shelter like they had since they could barely walk. He used to tell them stories, when all the comics had been read and the power flickered in and out, the pulse of one of Donnie’s first generators not fully equipped for the worst of the storms. Leo used to like winter.
He blinks away the shadows of Northampton in the pale light of pre-dawn, biting down a groan as he rolls himself away from his brothers. He drags himself away from the mess of blankets and pillow and turtle, jaw clenched as he curls against the base of the tree. He tries to control his breath, to feel the life and sturdiness of the stubborn plant that somehow grew strong and beautiful despite it all. The burning ache in his leg does not dissipate, it does not change, but Leo focuses his mind away from it and that is close enough.
Leonardo has lived in this body for just over a year now. He can divide his life neatly into the time before he was injured and the time after. He tries not to dwell on the long weeks they had spent at the farmhouse - the gray in-between time where he was so sure that if he just pushed himself in the right way that he could go right back to where it was like nothing had happened at all. He tries his leg, pleased when the pain doesn’t spike as it takes his weight. He should not feel pleased by this.
HIs body simply works, or it does not. All he can control is himself. If it works, it is up to him. If it doesn’t work, it is up to him. The physical can be adjusted for. The physical can be ignored. He is stronger than his body. He is stronger than his pain. He breathes in deeply and by the time his brothers begin to stir, he can bend his leg under him in a proper seiza without it twinging horribly.
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It’s the third day of meditation training in a row. Mikey wouldn’t mind normally - it’s colder than a hug from Icecream Kitty, which meant that all he really wanted to do is cuddle up and do a whole lot of nothing, and if he was careful he could slip into a loose, comfortable space between a daydream and true sleep while meditating which was almost as good. If he was extra, extra good his brothers wouldn’t even pick up on it. Well, maybe Leo could, but he didn’t seem as externally aware these past few weeks. Donnie said it was something about turtle instincts and their cold-blooded nature coming to bite them in the butt. It made them all sluggish, both mentally and physically.
But three days of straight meditation was a lot, even with a snow storm. Normally they’d go harder on the cardio - you know, get the blood flowing, get some warmth circustating. Circulating. Circumstancing? Splinter always made them do extra laps around the lair, even with the heat lamps going full blast.
Either way, he was picking up that something was going on with Leo. What he couldn’t figure out was why his brothers weren’t saying anything. Even Raph was keeping his mouth shut. He wasn’t even fighting as much with Leo the past few days! Not that Leo was doing much of anything to piss him off in the first place. Which was weird, but maybe that was character growth. Maybe he was finally confident enough in his leadership not to get defensive every time Raph opened his big, clumsy mouth.
Or maybe he was seriously sick or something? Donnie hadn’t dragged Leo off to the lab, so at least he probably wasn’t dying. Mikey was sure that if it was anything else Leo would have talked to them by now. They spent ages trying to get him to open up about what he was feeling in Northampton after all. And Mikey had seriously hoped they had earned the right to keep that trust, all considered.
Which led Mikey to the obvious conclusion - Leo had been replaced by an exact replica and nobody was picking up on it except Mikey. Given their lives, there was a non-zero possibility that it could happen! Mikey was so smart, and Real Leo would be so proud of him for figuring it out and saving him from whatever dimension they had stored him in. He hoped it was Dimension X. He was so good at Dimension X things.
And it was probably warmer there too. He could save the day, get Leo back, and give his family a toasty warm vacation outside the sewers. Heck, with the time difference, they could probably go through an entire winter in a week if they stayed in Dimension X! Mikey was so, so smart.
All he had to do was figure out how to expose this Leo as a fake. It shouldn’t be too hard - they had lived their whole lives together after all. If anyone could flush out a fake, it would be Mikey. He just had a way with people! No way could this imposter keep up this front with Mikey around.
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The fourth day after the big storm Mikey started following him. It was innocent enough. Leo shuffled to the kitchen, blanket draped around his shoulders, keeping his stride short to help hide his limp as he put on the kettle. Mikey followed after him after a minute, yawning under his own blanket until Leo presented him with his own steaming mug of mostly sugar and milk with just a bit of tea for flavor. Leo sits opposite Mikey, careful to not let him see him rubbing circles into the muscle just above the knee - the joint itself was too tender to manipulate directly. The pressure helps. He’ll remember to tie his wraps differently today. Maybe he could steal some tape from Donnie’s lab to give the joint a little bit of strength. They need to do some physical training today. Raph was starting to get restless. Leo was starting to get restless.
The warmth of his tea slowly dissipates into his hands as he tries to think through katas and forms that won’t send his bad leg shaking. Maybe if he adapted this one so the weight was on the other foot, which would leave him a little bit more vulnerable unless he used the weight shift as a transfer to open up into a….
“Hey Leo, bro, you gonna eat?” Mikey says around a mouthful of cereal, bringing him back to the present moment. He releases the pressure he was putting on his leg, the imprint of his nails leaving behind reddening semi-circles. Oh right, food.
“Yeah, I'll just grab some cereal. Pass me some of yours?” He slides out of the chair, thankful that he can keep his leg straight as he pivots to the cupboard. He would have preferred eggs, or rice, or something at least somewhat more nutrient dense than the sugary stuff Mikey was shoveling into his face. But most of that required more time standing, or worse, bending down to actually retrieve the eggs from the fridge. Who put them on the bottom shelf anyway? Everyone knew eggs went at the top. If the ache was anything to go by, he was going to need every ounce of strength his knee could provide for training today. No way was he blowing it standing around the kitchen. So, cereal. Even if it made Mikey look at him like he had grown a second head. Even if he hates that this is the kind of calculation he has to make.
It'll be better once winter passes. He's sure it will be better once winter passes.