A/N: This is really just a way of trying to get inside Leo's head. I'm not as pleased with it as I am with Anchovies, but it's up here to get feedback. So, read away!
Leonardo sighed as he listened to the rainwater swish and swirl through the sewers surrounding the lair as he untied his blue mask and got ready for bed. It had been raining all day, keeping the ninjas from performing over half of their routine sweep of the city – Master Splinter had ordered them inside early to keep his sons from getting sick. Almost as soon as they were back inside the lair, he and his younger brother Raphael had gotten into another fight – another ridiculous fight. Raphael wanted to go back up to the city streets, fight off some gangs, get some of the energy and fire running through his veins. And Leonardo, ever the loyal son, stood in the red ninja's path. Which, of course, started a big fight where weapons would have been drawn had Master Splinter not stepped in. Raphael, being the "mature one", stormed off into his room and slammed the door behind him. Leonardo retreated to the dojo, where he immediately jumped into his perfectly memorized katas in hopes of drowning out the anger coursing through him.
He stayed in there well after everyone else had gone to bed for the night, concentrating on where to place his feet and how fast his punches should be. When he finally felt his muscles become lead and his eyes become so tired that they burned, Leonardo retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom. He shook his head and sighed, rolling his shoulders in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the tension held in his tight muscles. Unfortunately for the leader of the turtles, his plan failed and his muscles clenched even tighter. He groaned and made his way towards his futon, the fight still fresh in his mind as he listened to the sounds of the dying storm. The rain had stopped pouring down since the brothers had returned, the water now coming down in a heavy drizzle that sent small tsunamis through the sewers and created new rivers in every pipe. Leonardo had just bent down to crawl under his covers when he heard a noise from the hallway. The leader of the turtles glanced up, blinking when he saw his youngest brother standing in the doorway. "Mikey?"
Michelangelo was standing in the doorway, his shadow running along the floor of his blue brother's room. Leonardo took a second to figure out why his brother had a shadow so late at night – he must have left on a light in the lair. The blue ninja waited for Michelangelo to say something, taking note that his brother was rubbing his arm – a sure sign that he was nervous. "I can't sleep; the storm's keeping me up." He admitted quietly, his voice barely discernable over the various night sounds of the sewers.
Leonardo snorted. That was a blatant lie. Michelangelo hadn't been afraid of storms for almost ten years; even when he was a little turtle tot he had only been afraid of the thunder. And the thunder had stopped rolling overhead at least two hours ago. The oldest brother rolled his eyes and moved to lie down, pulling the covers up over his plastron. "Mikey, you went to sleep hours ago." He closed his eyes, moving around a bit to find the most comfortable position possible. "I remember hearing you snoring between katas." As soon as his head hit the pillow, Leonardo looked back up at his brother. Michelangelo's toes were barely even in the room, his face lined with worry – even in the dark his big brown eyes were dancing and shining with an indescribable amount of emotion. His hand was still massaging the skin of his arm, running up and down between his elbow and his shoulder, fingers smoothing over his developed bicep like they were trying to gather strength from the muscle. "What's wrong?"
"Like I said, the storm –"
"Mikey." Michelangelo flinched slightly at the irritated tone in his brother's voice. Leonardo noticed and took a deep breath to soothe his nerves. "The worst of the storm is over – it has been since before you went to bed. Besides, you can sleep through anything short of a train running through your room." This wasn't a far stretch – usually someone had to literally push the youngest brother out of bed and onto the cold floor before he would even open his eyes.
The orange ninja took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, scuffing his toe on the stone floor distractedly. "Leo, you're not going to leave us right?"
Leonardo blinked and sat up, the blanket falling in a puddle around his waist. "What? Why would you ask that?"
Michelangelo let a sigh slip between his thin lips before he lifted his eyes to look at his brother. "I – I had this dream." He confessed softly. "You decided that you'd had enough of fighting with Raph and you just took off." Michelangelo's shoulders slumped and he leaned against the door jam so suddenly that Leonardo thought that his legs had given out. "We all tried to stop you, but you just went topside and disappeared." He looked up at his brother, fear written all across his face. "And I tried to find you Leo, I did." He clenched his free fist and chewed on his lip. "I looked everywhere for you, but you were gone. I couldn't find you." The orange ninja's voice cracked. "You didn't even say goodbye." He finished, his voice faint and filled with grief.
Leonardo watched his brother carefully. "You're really shaken up, aren't you?" His brother nodded, rubbing his arm more furiously. The blue ninja motioned for his youngest brother to come in. "Mikey, I'm not going to leave you guys. You're my family." He tried to explain as his brother crossed the room.
Michelangelo knelt down next to the bed, his hand still working up and down his arm. The oldest turtle studied his face, surprised to find a dried tear track running down the side of his brother's face. "It's just weird." He paused to take a shaky breath. "I know you and Raph don't get along but, dude, the air was thicker than Little Joe's pizza sauce tonight." Leonardo smothered the urge to laugh at his brother's metaphor. "I just don't want you to go away, Bro."
Leonardo smiled at his youngest brother, placing a hand on his shell and rubbing soothingly like Master Splinter had done for them all when they were much younger. "Mikey, I'm not going to leave you guys. You guys wouldn't last a day with that hothead in charge." He tried to joke. Michelangelo simply nodded, his eyes trained on the floor. Leonardo gave a brotherly pat to the smooth shell on Michelangelo's back before removing his hand. "Go get some sleep – we have a lot of training to do in the morning." The oldest turtle moved to lie down again and pulled his blanket up beneath his arms. Michelangelo still hadn't moved. Leonardo closed his eyes and let out a breath, trying to reach a meditative state so he could go to sleep.
"Can I sleep in here?"
The blue ninja's eyes shot open at the request. He sighed and turned his head, "Mikey, I don't –"
Michelangelo looked up from the ground and straight into his brother's eyes. "Please, Leo?" Leonardo took one look at his brother's pleading face and scooted to the far side of the mattress, lifting the blanket in a silent invitation. The orange ninja grinned and jumped in next to Leonardo, curling up in his brother's side. When the youngest turtle threw an arm across his brother's chest in order to squeeze as close as possible to him, Leonardo smiled softly and gently placed his own arm around his brother's shoulders. They hadn't slept like this since they were both young turtle tots, maybe seven years old at the latest. The youngest turtle used to crawl into bed with his oldest brother in the middle of the night without even asking. Leonardo just moved to one side and let him in, letting the usually bubbly ninja snuggle into his side before falling prey to the Sandman – or SandTurtle – again. He didn't want to admit it, but the leader of the ninja turtles didn't realize how much he missed curling up with his brother until just now. Michelangelo squirmed a bit before finding a comfortable spot and settled in for the night with a content sigh. "Love you, Bro." He muttered before sleep claimed him.
The blue ninja looked down at his resting brother and released a quiet sigh. He knew he was still mad at Raphael, furious even – but he couldn't remember why anymore. Michelangelo had that affect, filling you with so much happiness that you would forget any other emotion. He rested his cheek on top of his brother's head and closed his eyes. "I love you too, Mikey."
The soothing sound of sweeping water and soft snores lulled the strong leader to sleep, his arm wrapped protectively around his youngest brother's shoulders.