All right, I know I'm probably gonna get cussed out for starting another story so quick, especially when I know I'll probably run into difficulties writing it. But I needed to start it before I forgot what it was that I wanted to write!

Basically, it goes like this: The more reviews I get for one story, the quicker I'll update. So, if you don't like this as much as you like Dead of Night, it'll wait for my elder baby to be completed.

I hope you like it!

Italics are: flashbacks and thoughts

Disclaimer: Guys, I don't even own the TMNT in my dreams!

Leo sat on a dumpster in an alley, a katana in one hand. Rain fell in swirling torrents; the wind was howling and lightning was splitting the azure darkness of the sky into pieces every now and again. Every once in a while, a person would rush by the alley to get to their homes.

Only a crazy person would want to be out in this weather.

To Leo, the jolting sensations of the rain hitting his skin were a blessing. At least he was feeling something. But of course, like any indentation of feeling that came to him on these rare occasions of recent events, it gradually turned into nothingness, and he was numb again.

He'd done this to himself. He alone had destroyed any chance of common friendship between his brothers that came to every living creature so naturally. It had happened so long ago that he sometimes forgot why he'd done it.

It was often said that suicide was selfish, and Leo agreed, somewhat. A person who killed himself, his body, did it out of their own depression. But suicide of the actual self, the part of a person that drove them on, that was done out of either two things: a last resort at protection, or an act of selfless desire to harbor the people, or turtles, that were more important.

Back when he and his brothers were six-years-old, Leonardo had committed such a suicide for both reasons.

They'd been practicing Ninjitsu one day when Master Splinter called a rest. He'd been showing them a difficult kickā€¦

Master Splinter moved over to a chair, letting out a pained breath as he sat down. The old rat moved his left knee up and across his right, proceeding to massage it. He didn't notice his eldest son next to him, assuming that he'd gone off to play with his brothers.

The young turtle looked him over worriedly. "What's wrong, Sensei?"

Splinter turned his head sharply, then smiled. "It is nothing, my son. It is simply a disadvantage that comes with old age."

"How old are you?" asked Leo, out of curiosity. He'd never thought of his father as old before.

Splinter laughed gently, then patted the boy's head. "Older than you, Leonardo. Much older than you."

It was on that day that Leo had first realized the fact that he and his brother's beloved Sensei wouldn't be with them. Who would take care of them after he died?

The young Leo spent several days pondering the question. He'd never met any other people besides his brothers. After watching them carefully one day, he saw that none of them would be able to cope with Splinter's death easily, much less be able to take control of a family. They'd need help getting through such an event.

Honestly, Leo didn't think at the time that he himself would be able to handle it either, but, as he watched Mikey cry from the tiniest scratch, he understood that he'd have to.

So, in result, the ninja spent his young years abandoning youth itself. He abandoned or hid troublesome emotions as best as he could. But of course, being a teenager, they were still there, slightly diminished, but there.

Then, three months ago, Master Splinter died of natural causes. Natural causes being the customary was a body shuts down after having sharp, metal spikes shoved into its stomach.

It was just as he'd predicted all those years ago. His brothers didn't handle it well at all. For several days, Mikey cried himself to sleep, Don would work so hard in his lab that he'd forget to eat, and Raph spent so much time topside bashing heads that it was only a matter of time before some poor criminal got killed.

Leo sighed. He felt like a failure. Sure, he was helping his brothers as best as he could. They were even progressing, now. But he felt like he'd failed his sensei, his father.

He'd been dead for three months and Leo hadn't even shed one tear. His father deserved at least that. Even from a son who was mentally numb.

The thing Leo knew about his spiritual suicide was that it wasn't a perfect shield. It was like a diamond. Diamonds are the strongest mineral known to man, but if you were to hit it at one special spot, it shattered.

In his case, there were several vulnerable spots. He hadn't found them all yet, though. But he knew the most logical one: physical pain.

That was why he was out here in this storm tonight. That was why he trained until he was so weak that he barely had the energy to drag himself to the couch where he passed out every other night, now. That was why he occasionally deprived himself of food. That was why, when they were on their nightly patrols, he let a thug get in a hit, or two.

And that was why his katana was being dragged across his right arm.

Leo watched the little scratch turn red. Then, he traced its outline, again and again. Eventually, it became a long line of blood that flowed down to his elbow, where it dripped down to the dumpster, and with the help of the rain, down to the earth.

But all pain, after a little while, turned into numbness as usual. At least it was something.

Lightning flashed not to far away, revealing a figure Leonardo knew well. Raphael stepped into the alley; over to where Leo sat. His eyes were wide as he traced the wound on Leo's arm.

He looked up at Leo, in a mix of shock and anger. Leo kept his gaze cold and steady, never minding to put his katana down.

"LEO?" Raph asked, as if trying to convince himself that it was somebody else. When he couldn't, his look hardened. "What the hell did you do?"

Well, what'd ya guys think? Do you like? Remember, the more reviews, the quicker I'll update!