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The glint of light off a pair of glasses was the first sign.
Like the rotating sun, orange streaking in a starburst across his vision. Leo turned his head, blood from his mouth pooling on the rock, and felt the presence sink in. Blanket forts and a whirring projector, the dust particles hanging in the air in the casted light. No hesitation, just confidence and bravery.
A bloody smile. Leo kept breathing.
[]
The universe hung above him. Darkness and stars, pin pricks of light through inky black. Leo dragged air through wheezing lungs. Each breath was a battle. Splintered ribs into lungs, the very bones of his body fighting the mechanisms needed to keep him alive.
Leo knew he had to stay alive. He knew because he could feel it, deep in the broken bones, as if it lived in his marrow.
Vibrations rocked through the ground, a heavy landing. And at the same moment, the presence stepped up, a silhouette familiar as the breathing cycling through him. It stood between him and the approaching monster, a ready pose, turning his roguish smile over his shoulder and giving a wink beneath pointed glasses. Fuzzy and indistinct like the projector screen.
It was time to stand up, the posture said. It was time to fight. Leo took the strength and the guidance, rising to feet as his bones ground together in his caved in chest, shaking and mirroring the pose given to him. Chin up. Roguish smile and a wink.
"Come back for more?" Leo taunted.
"Foolish pest." The monster replied, stalking forward with earthquakes trembling as he approached.
The after-image of Lou Jitsu faded the moment he looked at him head on, but Leo remained standing. Fighting was pointless, but if his hero could get up and get up and get up — he would not disappoint.
“That’s me, baby.” Leo kept his stance loose and his tone easy. “Right here and ready to fuck up your day.”
Kraang Prime scoffed. The red shone down like a stoplight, casting Leo’s shadow behind him in a ruby cut out.
Leo didn’t wait for the strike. He darted forward first, speed and agility and cunning his asset. His strength, just like a lithe figure with a perfect smile and perfect hair. Taking the monster by surprise, a flick of power in the punch. A stumble back of lethal limbs. A blink of surprise on a pink grotesque face.
“How do you still have fight inside you?” Prime wondered, getting his bearings enough to parry the blows with a disinterested hand.
Leo absorbed the returning hit by springing back on his hands and flipping once, twice, and skidding backwards with feet and fingertips dragging on the ground. Head up, watching his opponent. He hadn’t so much as grazed him. It wasn’t a deterrent.
“No matter.” Prime straightened and gave his own smile. “It won’t last long.”
If Leo could stand, he could fight. He didn’t wait, he lunged forward, the echo of another guiding his aching limbs.
[]
A hand was on his shoulder.
The presence was back. Leo didn’t dare move his head far enough to meet the gaze head on, afraid it would vanish if he stared at them directly, but watched with his peripherals. Haloed by stars, Lou Jitsu was crouched beside him, nodding encouragingly.
Leo wasn’t built to be alone. He couldn’t be alone. It was a good thing he wasn’t alone.
The voice usually more familiar through crackling speakers of youth, digitalized just slightly, said, “We need to move.”
“I can’t.” Leo said through numb lips.
“We’re going to move.” Lou Jitsu said, like a vow. Like he’d come to save Leo. Like Leo was someone who deserved saving.
Leo inhaled. He put trembling and fumbling arms underneath himself and pushed up. Regained his bearings, air whistling through his clenched teeth. The universe swum and spun on an unsteady axis, stars going into streaks, but he levelled and moved.
“Where?” Leo whispered.
“Keep moving.” Lou Jitsu was right beside him, just in the corner of his vision, arm around his shoulders. Guiding him away.
Leo kept moving. Fumbling foot after foot. Scrapings of blood, after images of his path. It would do no good.
“Why?” Leo asked.
“We must always try.” Lou Jitsu promised.
Always. Such a big word.
They reached the edge of their floating rock together. Lou Jitsu stepped forward and looked over the edge into the yawning expanse.
“Jump.” Lou Jitsu told him.
“Why?” Leo asked again, instead of ‘how high’.
“Because you are going to live.” Lou Jitsu said, accented voice firm and leaving no arguments. “If we lie here, then he will return.”
“He’ll find me again.” Leo said, numb numb numb. He always did. Such a big word.
“Let’s not make it any easier for him, hm?” Lou Jitsu gave another wink. “Trust me. Jump.”
As if he could trust anyone else. Leap of faith. Leo stepped a foot out into the nothing and fell. It swallowed him whole.
[]
Maybe it would be scary, to float in an infinite void. But Leo's fears laid elsewhere.
"I'm sorry." Leo said, choking on the tears. The droplets floated in the mockery of gravity, a trail of shame following him. "I don't know why I'm crying."
The presence didn't acknowledge the statement. But strong arms curled around his shoulders and squeezed.
Leo put both hands over his face and felt the overwhelming rumble inside his skull. If he didn't look, then he could pretend this was real. His saviour and a hug as he cried.
And just to hurt himself, Leo voiced, watery and cracked, "You're not real."
There was an amused scoff in his ear, and a tightening of the arms around him. Lou Jitsu said, "My movies aren't real either, and yet they bring you joy. Can I not help you in the same way now?"
The stream of tears was relentless and hiccuping his body. It hurt his ribs. Leo didn't want to keep crying. There was nothing else to do, nothing else to think or feel as he hung in the cradle of gravity.
Except for the presence. It didn’t leave, it didn’t solidify beyond the sensation of company and faint pressure surrounding him.
“I don’t know why I’m crying.” Leo sobbed again, because he didn't. It shouldn’t have been the hard part, waiting for more pain. Waiting to be found again. It wasn’t as if he was even having any upsetting thoughts — he was a washed wall of nothing, face numb when he touched, a blank slate anticipating more marks upon it.
“Because you are so brave.” Lou Jitsu murmured, and that digital youth quality was gone from his voice, sounding like something else for a moment. “Because you are enduring. And enduring is hard.”
“I can do hard things.” Leo volunteered, and now it was his own voice that sounded so young. Wracked with sobs. It was a mantra, one given to him years and years ago.
“You can.” Lou Jitsu agreed, and it didn’t sound like him even as it did.
Leo didn’t open his eyes.
[]
He was found again. But at least his tears had dried when he was.
Leo bit and kicked and screamed. There was a beam of pride and fury at his side, the presence no longer coming and going but staying constant and strong. Like his hero knew that he needed every single ounce of strength his support gave. And when Prime grew bored, he didn’t leave this time. He left Leo to bleed and stayed to watch the crimson stain the rocks. Lounging and grinning at his spoils, a taunting promise that if Leo did anything other than bleed and bleed and bleed, then he’d be there to start the fun again.
So Leo bled.
“We have to put pressure on it.” Lou Jitsu whispered urgently.
Leo wanted to laugh. The bubble of it ruptured in his throat and made a sound that was no where close.
“Your blood is not for him.” Lou Jitsu urged.
Leo shifted and pressed his arm into the wound with all his strength.
“Good.” The praise was liquid warmth, through his ice cold heart and limbs. Leo pushed. It hurt. It kept the blood inside.
Leo knew he had to stay alive. He knew that. It was just getting foggier with how light headed he’d become.
"We are going to keep breathing." Lou Jitsu told him, and there was no bravado in his voice, just steady and calm and encouraging. "Like this. Follow me."
Leo followed his exaggerated inhale exhale cycle. The air whistled through his lungs, the ache of his broken ribs, the fuzzy feeling of blood loss in his fingertips. He'd survived everything so far, whether or not that was because his existence was designed as a super-soldier or because he couldn't die in here – he wasn't eager to find out. How would he even know?
"You can get through this." Lou Jitsu said, and he just sounded so sure. The same conviction that carried him through trials and enemies for hundred of hours playing on his projector screen. If Leo turned his head and looked at him directly, maybe he'd see that same ghost-shadow of projected light.
But he was desperately afraid if he looked, that the illusion would shatter, that he'd lose this. He couldn't be alone. He couldn't do this alone. If he was alone –
"Don't you close your eyes, now." Lou Jitsu leaned in closer, the security of his presence a balm on the rabbit-quick heartbeat. "Keep the pressure. Keep breathing. You can get through this. Hold on."
Hold onto what? Leo thought, but did not speak. Instead he kept the pressure, he kept breathing, and told himself over and over, he wasn't alone. Soon, Prime would rise, and soon, they would begin again. But for right now, he clung to the whisper of orange glasses beside him. Even if Lou Jitsu seemed smaller than before.
[]
Leo was curled up on the ground, legs pulled in tight to make himself as small as possible. He'd been asleep, dreams loud and popping with explosive sound, and woke shuddering to a hand giving his shell a gentle rub.
The presence was strong, hovering protectively over his curled form, and hummed something low. Then spoke, voice familiar and close, "You are okay."
He wasn't. But it was nice to pretend, for a moment, that it might be true. Leo licked his dry lips and said, "You're still here."
"Of course." The liquid certainty. Soothing circles on his shell, warmth on his back.
Shivers wracked him all over. Leo tugged his legs closer and pressed his forehead into his knees. Everything hurt, consuming, totality, critical mass. There was no possible way it could hurt more. His nerves were all overwhelmed, firing random and hot, and it was all he could think about.
"I don't know if I can do this." Leo admitted, to his own cold skin.
"You are doing it." The presence assured him. They were as familiar to him as his own name, the warmth like fur, like sleep-warm blanket after a nightmare, like a sick forehead cradled and kissed.
Leo felt like he cracked down the middle. He said, voice breaking, "Dad, I'm scared."
The arms wrapped around him, stroking his cheek and giving a tender kiss to his forehead. Splinter whispered, "Hi Scared, I'm Dad."
It burst a laugh so hard it hurt, and his lip wobbled. Leo opened his eyes, not turning his head, just allowing the soothing presence of fur and a bathrobe beside him, just in the corner of his vision. He was shaking, uncontrollably and painful.
"There's nothing to be scared of." Splinter told him, holding his child close, steady and sure. "Your dad is right here."
"You won't leave?" Leo asked, voice incredibly small.
"I would never leave my sweet baby blue." Splinter kept a steady motion of his gentle hands, an affectionate touch so welcome after all the pain and violence. "I am right here, you just need to hold on for me."
"It's hard." Leo didn't want to cry, because if he started he'd never stop, but the word ripped out of him in a sob.
"You can do hard things." Splinter said, the mantra he'd given him years and years ago. "Have I ever been wrong?"
The number of times growing up that he'd been told that, it was almost innumerable. A coaxing promise in the face of taking disgusting cold medicine, for sharing toys with his brothers, learning an advanced sword technique, trying to sleep when the frustration of insomnia wanted him to just stay up forever, and notably when he'd broken down and asked his dad why the hell he made him leader.
"Why do I have to?" Leo couldn't help the plea, shaky and cold and scared. "What am I holding out for? There's nothing here but pain."
"Because you are going to live, Leonardo." Splinter told him, fiercely. "You are going to live through this."
"You don't know that." Leo said, through his numb lips. And the tears stung hot and painful when he added, "You're not real."
"There is nothing more real in this world than a father's love for his son." Splinter squeezed tighter. It almost felt like something. It almost pierced through the pain.
[]
It was cold. Prime was there. Every hit was a burst of release. Freedom from the anticipation of pain by providing it.
"Please, Blue, cover your head." The presence begged, for that was all he could ask. There was no standing, no fighting – just the heavy sack of flesh being pushed around.
Vision greying on the edges, weak arms raised and protected his head from the blows. His mouth was full of blood. He could've choked on it.
"Don't swallow." Splinter said.
Leo spat onto the rocks, viscous strings from his lips. Prime laughed above him. The loom of it made all the nerve endings on his neck raise. He didn't turn. And eventually, after an eternity, the monster left again.
"Keep breathing." Splinter stayed close, not looming, as if he was right on the ground with him.
"Why?" Leo asked. An echo of a small child hanging off his dad's arm, asking why why why why over and over. Seeking answers from the universe, never satisfied. Why was the grass green? Why did the stars shine?
"Because I love you." Splinter replied, simply.
Leo kept breathing.
[]
Orange light. But it was different this time. It streaked and burst like a star. The world opened up. As he was freed, the presence did not let go of his hand.
[]
Leo woke up warm.
There was no pain. Leo remembered his brothers. Staten Island. Making a bad joke and collapsing into their safe and secure arms. He remembered Donnie's worried tight brows and Raph's gentle hold and Mikey's reassuring voice.
Everything was softened around him, a hiss and beep of machines, IV lines and monitors on his battered body. The fuzz of painkillers like cotton over his body and bandages pressing into his hurts.
And someone was holding his hand.
Leo's breath stuttered and he felt the tight grip, fur and familiarity. His pulse quickened and reflected on the monitor, beeping away by his head.
"You are okay, my son." Splinter said, and shuffled closer to stroke Leo's cheek. "I am right here."
A moment of hesitation, then Leo carefully opened his eyes, heavy and tired and soupy with the drugs. He stayed his gaze fixated on his feet at the end of the bed, covered in blankets. He wondered, uncertain, "Dad?"
"Hello Blue." Splinter said, voice damp and packed with love. "How are you feeling?"
Leo couldn't look at him. He didn't want him to break this wonderful illusion. But then he remembered orange light and arms and safety again.
"I'm home?" Leo asked, cautious. He didn't turn his head.
"Yes, you are home." Splinter confirmed, squeezing the hand he still held.
"I'm alive." Leo said, and this wasn't a question. It was a surprised statement.
His dad pushed through how his voice wavered. "And we are so glad that you are. You have done so well."
An unsteady pause. Leo blinked rapidly to fight back tears but still didn't turn.
Splinter asked, gentle, "Leo?"
"I'm sorry." Leo blurted, fuzzy. "I'm scared you're not real."
Another squeeze of his hand. Splinter thought for a moment then said, "Look at me."
Leo had spent a lot of time obeying his commands, that it broke past his fear to turn his head and look. His heart jolted in shock when his dad smiled at him, firmly beside him and absolutely real.
Splinter's stroke of his cheek switched to drying his tears. Leo gasped for air and said, "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying."
"Because it was a very hard thing." Splinter faithfully wiped away all the wet salt from his face, absolutely intent in his task. "And you were so very brave and did such a very good job staying alive. Thank you for staying alive."
It was as if he'd really been there. He admitted quiet and small, "I felt you with me."
"Good. I will always be there. And I will always love you." Splinter promised.
Such a big word. Leo didn't ask why. He just believed him.