I Hate You

He was floating. Light as a feather, he levitated amidst heavy grey clouds.
He was merely a thought, a consciousness. A name? No need for one. This was it. This was the final truth. He needed nothing no more. He was seconds before dissolving into droplets of rain, that would fall from the clouds.
Floating one last time before everything went away. Before he went away.

One of the clouds reminded him of a familiar face. He felt a twinge in his gut. This wasn’t right. The face was not supposed to be there. He was supposed to have forgotten it. It should not be there.
In one twist the shape sharpened and solidified. The moment he recognised the face was the moment he came falling down. Helplessly.

“Please don’t leave us. Hold on.”
“Leo step away, I need space.”
“He’s... no, he can’t… Donnie, say he isn’t...”
“One – two – three – four – five – six...”
“Raphie please!”

Oh... He knew this scene. It was him in the middle of it, right? Raphael...
He could remember what had happened.

Racing out of the Lair, gasping for breath. He felt like he was afire. Heart beating like it wanted to escape his chest.
He could not go on like this, he thought as he climbed on top of a rooftop and ran. When he cleared his head a bit, he would tell Leo. It was the only thing that mattered. When he calmed down...
Suddenly he realised it was raining. The roofs he was stomping were slippery. But he had to run on. Force the demon to tire. Then he could come back. And tell Leo. Yeah.
He slipped.
He flailed his arms. Twisted his body. Reached out to grab the railing. The slippery railing. It slithered through his fingers.
In midair he held onto the comforting thought that the fall would be short.
He landed on his feet. Not wasting a breath, he ran again.
He made a large circle. Near the Lair he decided the demon was still too strong. He ran on.
He realised his left foot hurt. There had been no time for it in his self-induced punishment. He bent over to examine it. Blood was oozing from several long gashes in his heel. Probably from when he slipped. He took off his mask and tied it around the wound. Better head home now.
During the trek the gashes stung badly. But he was used to pain. He could ignore it.
Still soaked in rainwater, he arrived at the Lair. Exhausted. In pain. Reeling. Sick.
Muscle memory brought him to his room. Into his hammock.
That was all.

Raphael could see his body, lying motionless on white linen of a bed. Around it... his brothers, running, crying, speaking. Praying.
“...thirteen – fourteen – fifteen!” Donatello bent over and pressed his lips to Raphael’s mouth. His back heaved with effort.
In the background, a slender, hunched form was praying. Swearing the death. Do not take my son. Do not take my son.
“One – two – three...”
A whirlwind built up. Sucking him in. Into the body. The last thing Raphael saw was a tear-stricken face. The face from... the cloud...
Leo...

“Yeah, what it is?”
“I need to know what antibiotics you’re giving Raph.”
“Amoxicillin. Why?”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t hang up! Why do you need to know?”
“I’m in a drug store. I need to know what to get.”
“You broke into a drug store again?”
“Yes, we need a bigger supply if we’re going to increase the dosage...”
“Increasing the dosage won’t work Leo. Any more antibiotics will damage Raph’s own immunity system.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s all in the books.”
“Books didn’t help you much. I’m getting the Amoxicillin.”
Beep.
Raphael watched as Donatello grit his teeth, hands curling into fists. He sank to the ground. As if the blow had been physical.
“I did the best I could,” he whispered. “You don’t have to take it out on more if you’re feeling helpless.”

Splinter stroke Raphael’s forehead. The sensation didn’t make it to his watching son.
“You are fighting my son. I can see it. Your body is struggling to defeat the infection.”
Splinter closed his eyes.
“When I meditate, I can see an internal struggle within you as well. I am afraid that the key to your physical healing is to win the inner battle first. Be strong my son. Come back to us.”

“This is ridiculous. You shouldn’t be lying here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

“You must fight.”

“Come back.”

Raphael heard it. Heard it all. He felt like he was inches from realising something important.
Oh... he was dying. But that wasn’t it. What was it? What had he forgotten?
A name, a face. A face in the clouds. Leonardo. What was it about him?
What had he not done?

“Splinter told me that I’d been the same. I lay unconscious and nothing would wake me. He told me all of you told me stories. I don’t remember them. But I’ll tell you a story of my own. Maybe it can wake you.
“Do you remember when I was first told I’d be your leader? Of course you do. I know I could never forget. The fight we had.
“You couldn’t understand why one of us should be better. At first, neither could I. That was why the first fight was so bad. I couldn’t defend something I didn’t believe in. And you... you said some really bad things. About me. That I’d never be good enough. That I would fail because in the end... none of us is better. None of us has the right to tell the other what to do.
“I ran back to father. I told him everything. He said I shouldn’t quit. Said I was born for it. It was my birthright. I didn’t believe him. So he told me to listen to what my heart was saying.
“It said nothing about leadership. Nothing about birthright. I felt... a connection to you. A bond so strong that nothing could sever it. You felt it too, didn’t you? There are two reasons why we fight. One is that you don’t think I have the right to give you orders. The other is that they push us apart. We used to be a single item. Now we are a leader and a subordinate. Back then neither of us wanted that, but it had to be so. For the sake of the family.
“But, you know? If I focus hard enough, I can still hear my heart. And when I do, I realise that all your insults, all the fights... they’re actually a sign that you can’t stand being pushed away from me. I can understand what you mean... Because we’re the same...”
Close. So close.
Then... Raphael remembered.
He had something to say to Leo. But how? He couldn’t speak like this. Hear, see, but not speak. In order to do that, he’d have to wake up.
Wake up.
With a rope of willpower, he pulled his consciousness closer.
Wake up.
“I can understand...”
Suddenly, for the first time in days, pain hit Raphael. It stole air from his lungs. He gasped. Opened his eyes.
Blurry, colourful spots moved before him. Green and blue, that was Leo. Raphael heard the disbelief and tears of joy, he felt them drop on his cheeks, but none of that was important, he had to say it.
He opened his mouth. A raspy groan came out. Damn it, talk, talk!
“I...”
Leo was turning away. No, no! Raphael gripped his arm.
“I’m going to get you some water,” Leo soothed him.
No, when he came back, Raphael wouldn’t be there anymore! Leo had to stay!
“What is it Raph?” Leo’s hand came down to his cheek. Wiped something away. “Are you in pain?”
Raphael pulled him closer. Leo had to hear this. Had to...
“I hate you.”
The world stabilised. Focused. He saw every detail of Leo’s shocked expression. And he prayed.
Leonardo blinked. His features melted. Eyes brimming, he whispered: “I hate you too.”
Raphael closed his eyes in relief. He pressed Leo’s arm and felt his brother’s head rest on his chest. Slipping into unconsciousness, he managed to mumble: “Cut it away.”

“Leo? What happened?”
“Raph woke up.”
“Wh-what? Why didn’t you call me?”
“He wanted to say something to me. Don, I... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... You did what you could...”
“I could have done more. It’s my fault he’s like this... t-teetering on the verge of death... And I can’t... can’t make the decision to...”
“He said, ‘Cut it away’.”
“He... he really did?”
“Raph made that decision for you. See? We don’t have to wait anymore. You can finish the operation.”
“But... that would make him a cripple for the rest of his life...”
“Raph knows that. Believe me, he does. There is no other way. If you don’t... if you don’t amputate his foot, he’ll die of the infection. I know you can do it Donnie. Fix him. For us. For me.”

Raphael opened his eyes. Darkness enveloped him. But it wasn’t the kind that swallowed everything. No, this darkness was real, with small sounds filling it. Distant droplets of water, humming overhead. Soft breathing beside him.
He couldn’t recall how he’d got there. The last thing he knew was... getting home after a long run. Walking carefully not to jostle his injured foot too much. Arriving at his room, perhaps. Nothing after that.
Raphael shifted his leg. Pricks of pain sparked through it. When he tried to move his toes, nothing happened.
“Are you awake?”
“Leo?” Raphael rasped eagerly. His accommodating sight caught a shadow sitting upright.
“It’s me Raph.” A hand touched his cheek. Raphael closed his eyes in response, but he quickly realised that wasn’t right. Why was Leo...?
A feather light kiss on his lips made his thoughts stop.
“How are you feeling?”
“...Dizzy.”
“That’s probably because of the painkillers. Don started giving them to you yesterday, after he said you’d wake up soon. He didn’t want you to start freaking out after you woke, so he gave you something to calm your nerves too. That Don, he turned out to be a great doctor after all. He saved your life.”
Raphael heard the voice washing over his skull like the ocean, fresh, rhythmical, soothing. The first thought he formed was that a miracle had happened.
A little personal miracle.
Leo’s hand left the chest plate it had been stroking and gently pushed a straw into Raphael’s mouth.
“Drink some.”
Raphael obeyed, dampening his mouth and throat enough to speak.
“How bad?”
Leo hesitated. He put the water away and resumed rubbing Raphael’s plastron. “Don saved most of your ankle. The infection wasn’t as strong there, so he left it to antibiotics and your body to heal. You’re going to be okay.”
A heavy lump rose to Raphael’s throat. The pricks in his left foot was phantom pain. The foot itself...
Half on its own accord, his hand lifted and reached to where Leo’s voice was coming from. When Raphael felt the fabric of mask, he tugged on it, bringing Leo’s face close to his.
As they kissed, the lump made its way up Raphael’s throat and out of his mouth. The kiss tasted of need and sorrow, it was sloppy, unpractised. And it was finally, finally saying what Raphael really meant.

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