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Gladiator (What if I Can't Let Go?) — Part 4 of I Still Feel Alive

Summary: On pawns and queens, rabbits and wolves, and becoming the monsters that haunt us. Or, Leo has developed plenty of pretty good coping mechanisms, he needs to fulfill his quota on the bad ones. Anything to fill the absence that awaits him. Or, “Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.” —David Foster Wallace

—

Chapter 1/17 — Need

Notes: Plot picks up immediately after the ending of Heart to Heart

Chapter Warnings -Codependancy, abandonment issues -Panic attack -Minor canon-typical past/future death -Adrenaline seeking

“Ssssoooo. That all... just happened,” Leo tapped his fingers together, still coming down from... that... whole thing.

You know, the Thing.

The ghost had dematerialized. Great for conversations. Leo wasn't even sure if... he was still around–?

Was... wait, was he still around?

After the whole emotional reflection stuff, the ethereal meet-n-greet with Karai, the flashbang of emotions as... as That happened, the room was quiet.

Leo had felt his family’s Ninpō, and (somehow) he had known what was happening. And in the same-how, he knew that his family knew that had happened. Considering nobody was sprinting into the room yelling about it (the reasonable response), he assumed they were just as stupefied.

They probably... also felt all those feelings. The absolute barrage of feelings. Like a cartoon bulldozer of feelings which left the character flattened, and now Leo had returned back to his wonderful fullness. Ahhh, it's good to be 3D again!

But, the point he was trying to make: with all that having just happened, with how barely describable it was given how purely sense-based it was, everything felt... like, a little too real now?

Leo felt pretty dang grounded. He was here. In his body. In his room. He could feel his own heartbeat, could hear his own breathing. Could smell the general scent of home. He felt like he’d had some wonderful catharsis, and now anything felt like... peace. Contentment. Quiet. Like waking up super duper early in the morning after a cuddle pile sleepover with his bros.

So, of course, Leo’s brain had to ruin it for him.

“Hello?” he questioned, mentally trying to feel around for the presence he’d gotten so used to it was like breathing. Like he was Velma looking for her glasses, and like he'd gotten so used to seeing with those glasses that now that they were gone–

Leo wasn't panicking. He totally wasn't panicking. He was very calm, he swore! He's the coolest guy around!

...

That's your cue to say “The SECOND coolest guy”, he tried to prompt, but still. Nada. Quiet.

Too quiet.

...

“Peepaw?” what other nickname irritated him? What else could Leo say to summon him?

Look at how calm he was!

“Hey, dude, you're being unfunny,” Leo laughed nervously. He hadn't even moved from the meditation pose yet.

Did he have to meditate? Reconnect? What is going on?

...Did Sensei Leonardo just move on? Is that what happened? Finally accepted death, found his family, found peace, gone, sayonara?

Is this it?

Is he gone?!

No, no, he can't be gone! He, he can't be, right?!

“No, no, please, I need you,” Leo got up to pace, back, forth, he needed to move. He needed to move because he was shaking and his heartbeat was erratic and he couldn't breathe. “Leo? Sensei? Hey, dude, come on, stop being lame!” Leo demanded, except his voice sounded pathetic–

(“Pathetic,” Krang Prime spat–)

What is wrong with him? Was Leo dying? Was his Ninpō gone with the ghost? Why was he freaking out?! It usually took him, like, a couple minutes to build up to this! Or, or a nightmare, or something! Leo didn't just... snap into a freak-out like this, it wasn't him!

“Please, please you can't leave, you can't,” and Leo wanted to be firm, he did. He wanted to be a leader and he wanted to be confident, but truth is, he just– he just sounded desperate.

What is wrong with him?

“Please, please, you can't do this,” Leo was– he was crying, he was on the floor and curling into himself, his hands were shaking. The worms were never supposed to be in a can in the first place, who put those worms there?

Why was he begging?

(“You are weak–!”)

“I swear, I, I, you can eat all the noodles you want, you can– we can watch all the dad TV you want, whatever, I– I need you, I can't do this by myself–!” Leo’s voice broke and he gasped for air. He was dying. He felt like he was dying. Everything was ringing.

...And then.

“Shhhh, shh, it's okay bub, it's okay,” ghostly arms wrapping around him, a soft voice, blue, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’m here, I’m here–”

Leo felt like the tension physically bled out of him, as he exhaled in relief, immediately clutching Sensei’s presence like he'd disappear. Because he had disappeared.

“You suck,” Leo sobbed, “Why would you do that? Hm? Hm? Going for the Least Funny reward or something?” he joked, like he wasn't still in the midst of a breakdown that made him feel like he was dying.

The ghost chuckled sadly and rocked back and forth a little, holding Leo tight. There was no heartbeat, no breath, but there was the pressure of a presence. The familiarity of the sensation of his Ninpō, because it was, he was Leo’s Ninpō, Leo didn't know how he knew that but he knew it.

“I’m here, I’m here, it's okay, you can breathe, I’m not leaving you,” the ghost chanted softly. It was so rhythmic, so consistent that Leo could sync his breathing to it. It was familiar.

Leo clutched onto him like a lifeline, coming down from the second emotional bulldozer of tonight in the shape of this panic attack.

...

And eventually, when Leo stopped feeling like he was dying, because, still, his lifeline was here...

...They talked.

It was... hard. Like a turtle shell.

Like the rocky ground of the Prison Dimension. Like the Krang’s metal exo-suit.

It was so hard, in fact, that just like those two, Leo did not want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. Not... not now. Not yet.

He wasn't ready yet.

He just needed some more time.

—

Leo breathed.

Wow, is this prosthetic made from lead? ‘Cause he sure felt heavy, and he hasn't even put it on yet!

...

It... Raph’s arm...

...Ugh. Leo dragged a hand down his face. Two seconds awake, and he’s already– okay. Okay, just, one thing at a time.

He... really didn't feel like getting up. But if you always wait until you feel like it to do something, you won't accomplish anything.

Even if his shell seemed twice as heavy, today. Even if the To Do list was twice as long.

...

Well, maybe Leo didn't feel like getting up, today. Just one of those days, you know? What can he say, he's his father’s son.

But he can already hear voices outside the door. It's so dang early, did a Starbucks open? Damn millenials.

He huffed a quiet laugh to himself.

Yeah, maybe he didn't feel like getting up, but he also didn't feel like damming everyone to their death, and he kiiiinda had to get up for that one.

Donnie may be recently deceased, but there's so many who aren't. Mikey and April will throttle his Hamato spirit if he went and died now, hah.

...

“...Sensei?” a groggy voice called, and Leo glanced to the side after yawning to see a sleepy Casey having just awakened. The rest of the folk in the room would be soon to follow, no doubt.

“Hey Case,” Leo smiled at him. Hah, look at his hair. It was getting longer! Good for him.

...Although, ooh, eugho, maybe that was because they kept... having to move bases. Probably didn't have time for hair care. They were constantly moving, these days. Things... really started getting dire.

Donnie’s security systems were a huge safety net for them. And for quite a while, emergency protocol after emergency protocol, they held even after... mm.

But there's only so much you can prep for. And now, maybe the Krang were getting the hang of things. Maybe it was just their piss-poor luck. It didn't really matter.

Anytime one of the Resistance leaders was taken down, it was a big blow. But they would live past this, too. There was no other option.

At the end (or, well, start) of the day, Leo was still pushing himself up, bracing against the wince that almost popped up, thanks to yesterday’s battle.

At the end of the day, they still had to get up and get moving. Many may be dead, but many are still alive.

Casey’s birthday (the one earlier in the year) was coming up. Leo would be a pretty crappy sensei if he gifted him just more grief—he’s gotten enough of that from others.

“We’re moving again?” the kid rubbed his face, already getting up, ready for action. Leo didn't feel like getting up, but he sure did feel proud of him, boy. It was painful. Casey was such a good kid, so adaptable and determined, and for what?

...Teenager, he was a teenager. When did he become a teenager??? Oh gross Leo was old, way too many years in the Apocalypse–

“Ye-p,” Leo replied, and up he went, on his feet, adjusting the ill-fitted prosthetic over his shoulder. At least he got some relief tonight, to be able to sleep without it and not fear it will be the death of them all. Probably won't happen again soon, and Mikey said to pay attention to the positives.

Casey was immediately grabbing his gear, putting it on, moving to wake the others.

Leo sighed, and joined him.

There was more to do. There was always more to do.

—

There was an itch under his skin.

There was an animal inside of Leo that had awakened and was now clawing with hunger. Dad’s ramen were good at uuuhhh placating it (REALLY good, wow), but they weren't it. They weren't what he needed.

Weren't what he craved.

Leo had tried meditating and showering and having a snack. Leo had tried reading comics and watching movies and playing video games. He’d tried talking to his family and stretching and training and playing chess and–

You got the picture, right? He had tried a large variety of things.

Still, there was something.

It settled, when he moved and trained and felt the burn in his muscles. It settled, when his heart would pick up and he'd clench his teeth during a particularly tense round of kicking Raph’s butt in combat games. It settled, when those moments from horror movies popped up on screen, the ones that made Mikey scream so hard April fell over laughing at him. It settled, when they went out for patrol, to face a mighty foe (...or just the day’s B-lister).

So.

Ssssoooo.

There is a perfectly reasonable and healthy–

Ugh, whatever! Leo didn't care if this was a bad idea. There, he said it.

He could hear the crowd cheering from here! Yōkai lining the doors of the Battle Nexus. The establishment was practically humming with an energy that made that animal’s mouth water.

The applause, the thrilled screams, the knowledge of blood and sweat and a rush.

Leo was barely on the outskirts, ninja-ing in and sneaking around, and still. He could feel the distant edges of that rush, and he knew, yep.

Yeah, that's where he needed to be.

He couldn't wait. As he approached her office, footsteps silent against the (conveniently, huh, thanks for that) carpeted floor, he felt like Raph after a day of intense working out, waiting for Mikey’s careful ravioli prep. He felt like when he has to drag Donnie off to bed—him, the resident insomniac—because the nerd has found a new super fascinating topic that just can't be put off until tomorrow. A certain fixation.

Anticipation.

But ugh.

Uuuggghhh. First, he had to play talky chess. Aka: negotiate. Ugh. Boooring.

It’s–

Yes yes yes, it's important, but that didn't stop it from being boring!

You suggested this, you deal with it.

...

Leo blinked, the strange sensation of ghost possession overtaking him. The ever-so-slightly different way that Leonardo held himself within the body. Probably from all those years mastering the art of fighting like an absolute badass.

“Watch and learn, loser,” Leonardo whispered, straightening up. Back and shoulders all proper and balanced, walking with confident strides, in a way that made Leo feel second-hand confidence, wow! Can this guy get any cooler???

Not that Leon wasn’t confident and cool. He totally is. But Master Leonardo just had that extra kick to him, you know? That oomph. And he was totally about to crush negotiation!

“Let's hope so,” he grumbled, knocking sharply at Big Mama’s office door.

Long story short: negotiating was pretty boring. Sure, it was tense, some 5D interdimensional chess with time travel type of mental games happening; but Leo’s heart was elsewhere. All he cared about was ensuring this didn't backfire spectacularly, as his ideas often tended to.

Leo may be here to do quote-unquote “unhealthy things”, but he isn't dragging his family into it. Threatening Big Mama with “You know if you do literally anything to me, all my brothers will happily come kick your butt and tear this place down, right?” was a pretty good card to pull. They both agreed: involving Leo’s family as little as possible would be ideal.

(“And nothing with tentacles!”

A chuckle, “Of course dearie, I wouldn't,”)

He was confident he could pull this off!

More than that, he needed it to work.

Because... well, it’s all fine and dandy, being healthy and vulnerable and showing your ugly parts to your loved ones.

But that made Leo feel, well, vulnerable and ugly.

(He’d seen his insides and they weren’t pretty.

There was something wrong and broken with him. It was ugly and he hated it. He wanted to go out in the dead of night and bury it like a reeking corpse.)

But the Battle Nexus?

Leo could be as fake and flashy as his dramatic heart wanted. He could feel cool, and strong, and awesome and also cool. He could be someone else—someone who was perfect and unbroken. And then he could go home as that good person, son, brother, friend, hero, and pseudo-father! It was a win-win!

In the Nexus, he could be the center of attention, so back home, he didn’t make everything about himself.

And that way, this... simmering, beastly thing inside him would have an outlet. He couldn't push it away forever, its teeth and nails are sharp. And he refused to lash out at his loved ones.

...And–

And... That.

Yeah. He hadn't forgotten.

That Thing they’d talked about.

Leo just... didn't want to think about it. Not yet, at least, just, just give him some time.

He just needed to know, first, that he could handle it. That he won't collapse just from the concept of It.

First, he had a show tomorrow night to get ready for.

—

Leo was bravely tolerating his reflection, rubbing on his face... some sort of cream. He actually wasn't completely sure what it's supposed to do, or, like, if it even really worked? But hey, dad had given it to him!

(Possibly after April had, lovingly, near-throttled Leo for using her products–)

And it just felt nice on his skin! Like, refreshing and soothing. And it smelled nice. And it was nice to do some self-care, insert sparkles, play the Barbie soundtrack. Still missing the luscious blond locks. After everything he's been through!

”Krang Killer,” he suggested to the ghost hanging around. Incorporeal, only visible to him right now.

“...Okay, first off, you didn't kill any Krang–” he rolled his eyes. Buzzkill. That's one of the coolest ones Leo’s thought of so far!

“What about the little one, hmm? I portal-chopped him with the Technodrome!” he argued.

“Almost no one knows they were called the Krang,”

...Ugh, good point.

“...Okay, fine, hmm.” what’s another cool stage name... “Alien Annihilator,”

“You're in a mood for alliteration huh?” El Fantasma raised a ghostly eyebrow. “Bit xenophobic though, I mean, what if some friendly aliens show up?”

Another good point, dammit.

“Ugh, you're right, we wouldn't want to drive off the friendly aliens–” Leo grumbled, tying on his mask. “Oh, wait, aren't I supposed to wear, like, a costume? I don't have a costume!” tragedy! Worst thing that has ever happened to him! How could he be flashy and cool without a cool flashy costume?!

“I’m sure Big Mama would have something for you in a ditty,” Phantom Freeloader reassured dryly.

“You think she can also think of a name?”

“Oh sure, the birthmother of such bangers like Kid Cthulu,” Leonardo drew out.

Leo shuddered. “Euguy, don't talk about birth and Big Mama in the same conversation,” gross.

He turned around to check himself over a little.

It was easier to look at himself, at least on good days.

He had the arm from Donnie which was so super duper cool. He’d washed his mask, so it was a clean blue, just the hue he liked most; long tails trailing down, perfect for dramatic billowing in the wind, hah. Mikey liked to paint the back of his shell, sometimes, like it was now—over the blue filling in the cracks, following their path. Making them be flowy and ornate, instead of jagged; matching them up with the natural pattern of his carapace. Sometimes he added other decorative little details in a whole spectrum of colors, too.

Currently it was like branches with pink flowers, which was both adorable and looked AWE. SOME. What were they called? Japanese cherry blossoms? Apparently, pink looked AMAZING against his blue, since they were... something something color theory. And the reddish-brown branches complimented his red stripes, and the little yellow flower dots that bees love were yellow to compliment his yellow stripes.

They’d also decorated Raph’s shell, and the three of them had taken SO many photos, which Donnie had squirreled away to his archive like a gremlin. Leo really had to grill him for copies.

Complete that with fresh new black wraps that weren't torn and bloodied? His pouches turned into a whole neat utility belt?

(Donnie had totally copied him on that last part, but Leo had bullied him into claiming that it's because they are twins, so he had permission.)

It all looked sick! If the Nexus watchers didn't think he was supremely cool, they are stupid.

“...What about,” Master Leonardo had been contemplating, “Something in another language? Spanish maybe?” he suggested, and Leo’s eyes, still admiring the art on his back, lit up with an idea. Time to open Google Translate, baby!

—

(Additional notes: I won't be posting all chapters to Tumblr, just this one. The rest will be on ao3.)

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