boficionado.

He’d trained too much with the bo for it being pushed back to really hurt him, even in his dazed state. His brow furrowed further as he tipped up his chin, and for a moment, he seemed to consider her closely.

“You don’t have the right to speak for my brothers, either. Or sensei, or even Casey. And at least as far as I’ve been told, they’re not the ones trying to chase her out of our home. Yeah, she hurt you. She hurt my brothers, and Casey, and Master Splinter too, and she killed me outright. But the only person out for her blood that I’ve seen isn’t any of the above except you.”

His voice was much quieter now, but boiling with a sort of suspended rage, just beneath the surface. He glanced away for a moment, toward his workbench. Parts and pieces remained littered there, scattered across the surface. So many things he’d wanted to start, wanted to finish, that he just couldn’t concentrate enough to work on. He wasn’t even certain he would ever have that back, and that was terrifying to him. But not as terrifying as this.

“This has nothing at all to do with my feelings about her, and I know you know that. It has everything to do with the fact that I know what I saw on that tower. What, do you want to know what it felt like? Or what I saw? What it was like to be reduced to so much particle matter across the cityscape? Because I can recount everything I remember, in full detail. Ask me, Leah. What I saw looking into her eyes on that skyscraper right before I got ripped apart at the atomic level. To prove that I’m in my right mind. Or are my experiences less weighted here? Am I still too scrambled to know what I’m talking about? I’m not sure I’m ever going to be okay after that, but I know my thoughts are mine.”

The genius took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly through his nose, finally turning to walk back to his workbench, shoulders tight.

“If there’s one thing sensei’s taught me that’s gotten through my “thick hide,” as you put it, it’s that when you’re seeking revenge, you should dig two graves. There’s no benefit in it, and it doesn’t fix anything that happened. But I know you well enough to know that you’re not going to listen to me. You’re barely listening to me now. Why would you? You’re dead set on making me out to be the fool here. Dead set on being right. So fine. Why don’t you ask my brothers, or Master Splinter. Ask them why they brought her back here, when I could barely hold myself up and Leo and Mikey had to all but carry me while Casey carried her. Why she still comes back, gets invited back, for training. You’re so dead set on making sure she’s unwelcome all on your own. You’ve got every right to be angry and to want to avoid her. Fine, whatever, that’s your business. But that’s your decision. Not the decision of this family as a whole… and this family has lost enough already than to let the monster that tried to take her over tear it apart any further.“

« 🔧 »       “It’s because every last one of you is too fuckin’ attached to realize how fuckin’ close we came!” The sentence was nearly screamed. Leah’s hands clenched down by her side. “Donatello, we fuckin’ LOST YOU. You fuckin’ DIED, no matter how anyone else tries to deny it. You an’ I know what the fuck happened. An’ every inch of your goddamned body knows it, too. And she’s the goddamned IDIOT that did this to you— all because she didn’t want to lose that damned artifact.”

Her anger was boiling now, bubbling past the cusp of her control. She was practically shaking, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Every inch of her SCREAMED to go against her instincts, to lash out and prove to Donnie just how wrong he was. But she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that—not to her brother. 

“We are NOT DONE here, Hamato Donatello!”

Unable to control herself any longer, Leah strode across the workbench. One hand reached out for his bo, pushing it aside, while the other whirled him around to face her. Both came up, to cup his face. She ignore the busted knuckles, the bruised and split skin, and instead formed him to look at her. Nails pressed into his cheek; perhaps not pleasant, but definitely not hard enough to hurt. Her one eye had darkened throughout the conversation until now, up close, one could see it was almost black.

“You did not SEE what she did to this family. You did not see what she did to Casey, or what she wanted to do to Raphael. Don’t you understand that? You didn’t HEAR how your brothers screamed for you when you died. You are one of the most IMPORTANT figures in this goddamned family, and she tore you apart right in front of us. And you are the only reason she didn’t do to Raphael what she did to you—did he tell you that?”

Pain. There was so much pain in her chest, and she had no idea how to express it. Her family had been ripped apart. The ONE THING she had fought so hard for, and she had almost lost it. She wanted to claw her skin off, to tear herself open so she would never have to feel this sort of pain again. Why couldn’t he understand? Did he not comprehend the damage April had done to them?

Her hands released his face before even she realized what she had done, wandering to the edge of his workbench. Delicate fingers wrapped around a beaker, holding the glass with such care—only to squeeze, and shatter it against her palm.

That was better.

“None of you will EVER understand how much I HATE HER for what she did to us.”