TMNT: Ricochet ▶ON HOLD (till gets more reads, votes and comments)◀

Chapter 7

Crossing the threshold, the heavy silence is as stifling as the smell of antiseptic stinging his nose. Mikey has to remind himself to breathe. Only the errant beep and hum of monitoring equipment breaks it. The rhythmic tick, pat of his crutches sounds deafeningly loud on the cold metal floor. The door slides shut behind him, snuffing out any trace of the hallway sounds. His ears are still ringing from the blast.

For a moment, he just stands there, shifting unsteadily in the middle of the room. The shape that is Leo, silhouetted on the bed by dim golden light, watches him stiffly with haggard shadows under his eyes. Staring. His expression unchanging. Not saying a word.

Mike coughs softly, the knot in his stomach twisting tighter with every uninterrupted second. The way his brother's stare bores right through him sends sharp flickers of terrified concern through his bones, his heart hammering harder in his throat. It's like Leo's in the middle of some kind of creepy, open-eyed meditation. His eyes are empty, and darker than anything. Just two pools of shadows staring from a gravely pale face.

"Hey, Leo," he says cautiously, not wanting to go any further. "How're you feeling?"

But Leo still says nothing, doesn't even move. Just keeps staring.

Panic flairs in his chest, followed quickly by a sinking iron dread. Why isn't he saying anything? Whathappened to him? Donny only told him that he's weak and blaming himself. Nothing like this. He failed to mention Leo's sudden brain damage or the fact that he's gone completely freaking crazy in a matter of hours.

It isn't right. Something seriously isn't right.

"Leo?" He tries again shakily, moving toward the bed against the pull of an invisible force that's begging him to turn and run the other way. "What's wrong?"

Mikey offers him a tight smile, but it's like Leo's made of stone. Instead of answering, he just turns his head away. This is not the warm reunion he had been hoping for. It only sparks a whole new stab of worry, spurring him faster toward his brother's bed to make sure he's okay.

Leo's pale. Really pale. His skin has a grayish tinge and almost all of him is covered in bandages. Not to mention the unnerving tangle of tubes and wires protruding from his skin. But otherwise, he's sitting up, he's in one piece, and Mike can't help the flood of relief washing over him even while a whole new worry is hardening in his gut.

"Leo," he whines as his brother still refuses to acknowledge his presence. There's nothing Mikey hates more than being ignored, and he can't let himself think it's anything more. But Leo's eyes stay glued to the wall even after he leans his crutches against it and awkwardly maneuvers himself to sit on the bed. "So are you gonna give me a hug or what?"

Leo doesn't move, won't even break his staring contest with the wall after Mike waves his hand in front of his face. "Hell-o! Earth to Leo!"

Leo only winces as Mike jostles the bed, leaning forward into his field of view.

From what Don said, he'd been expecting Leo to be down in the dumps, sure. But he was positive he'd be able to turn him around. He was the champion at cheering people up, after all. But he's never seen Leo quite like this before, so focused on his bad mood that he won't even acknowledge anything around him.

"Why're you acting so weird?"

Finally, Leo answers in a ragged whisper. His voice is hard, distant, and cuts like a rusty knife.

"I killed you."

Mike rocks backward, blinking rapidly like he'd been slapped. "Huh?"

It only takes him a moment to process it, the pit of his stomach dropping like a rock. Donny's voice echoing in his head: He's already blaming himself for what happened.

A second later he's regained his composure with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, trying to break the tension by looking down at himself in mock surprise and patting himself on the chest.

"What? I'm dead!? But I'm too pretty to die!" He shrieks, but Leo doesn't even flinch. Mike sighs. Feeling deflated, he drops the act for a rare moment of sincerity. "Pretty sure I'm still here, bro. You didn't kill anyone except maybe a half a dozen Foot ninja, and you know they were asking for it."

But his brother's eyes stay glued to the wall, stiff and cold as ice. This's almost worse, Mike thinks. He would've rather seen his brother worse off and acting like himself instead of like some kind of robot.

"I'm gonna see Raph in a few minutes," he offers, one last desperate attempt to strike up a conversation, get some kind of response, anything.

Finally, Leo's eyes lock on him, wide and desperate, leaving him squirming under the icy blaze of their piercing intensity. His hand snatches an iron grip on Mikey's arm. "What happened to him? To Master Splinter?"

"Leo, come on." Mike hardly stifles a whimper, not from the pain of his brother's crushing grip, but because of the eerie cold light of madness burning in his eyes. "You're seriously freaking me out."

"What happened to them?" He growls with a throat full of gravel. Then, he sucks in a breath and his grip loosens. "They're not telling me anything."

Mike can't help fidgeting nervously, his eyes dropping to his lap to avoid his brother's chilling gaze. "Well, Raph just got out of surgery. I guess the Shredder pretty much bashed his shell in. And..." There's that pain in his chest he can't shake. His mouth grows dry and he swallows hard to moisten it. "And Master Splinter's still in that creepy stasis chamber thing. Other than that I guess I'm just as in the dark as you are."

For some reason that seems to satisfy him, and he finally lets go of Mikey's arm with a quiet grunt. Then he's back to staring at the wall again. But this time, anger falls like a shadow over the lines of his face. It's a look Mike's more used to seeing on Raph, and it just feels... weird seeing it on Leo. Not right. And he wants so badly to make it better. He hates this... whatever this is. Anger? Depression? Maybe it's a little of both, but either way, it isn't Leo. This isn't his brother.

A moment of silence ticks by, and Mike ends up fiddling distractedly with the sheets. And he thinks, now it's time to be serious. He hates these kinds of conversations, but sometimes you just have to suck it up and power through.

"You made the right decision, you know," he says quietly, his eyes locked on the sheet he's twisting in his hands. "Back on the ship. We did what we-"

"Get out."

The ice in his voice makes Mike's heart twinge. When he looks up, startled, he meets the scariest, most intense look of rage he has ever seen on his brother's face. And it was directed at him. His mouth hangs open, dumbstruck into a rare moment of speechlessness.

A second later, Leo retreats back into himself and his eyes travel back to the wall. "I don't want to talk about it. Leave me alone."

"But..."

"Leave me alone, Mikey."

Something inside him breaks, crushed slowly by the weight of dread and the heaviness in his brother's voice. He doesn't understand what's happening. He doesn't understand why Leo's so freaking angry, or why he's taking it out on him.

"Leo, come on."

But Leo shuts down again. Unmoving. An uncomfortable silence ticks by, and Mike takes it as his cue to leave. Shakily, he fumbles for his crutches, keeps his head down. Won't let Leo see how much this hurts.

"Okay... I guess I'll go, then. Hope you feel better," he says quietly, struggling to keep the emotion out of his voice. And slowly, gently, he dares to wrap him in a hug. It's like hugging a hunk of wood and he hates it. It's the worst feeling in the world. "Love you, bro. You're the best. Don't forget it."