Leonardo considered his two younger brothers carefully, the few injuries they had gained from the fight were shallow or cosmetic, Michelangelo was the only one who had needed stitches.
“Did he tell you anything?”
Raphael grunted as he folded his arms over his chest tightly. “Nothing. Says he needs to think over something but wouldn't tell me what.” It was frustrating that Mike was keeping things from him, the two had always been close and shared almost everything. Almost. But there was something that a turtle had to keep to himself. And that pain was the worst of all.
“He was sloppy during the fight. Usually its Raphael I'm patching up.” Donatello pointed out, not really sure why he had to be here for this. Him and Michaelangelo weren't close at all, not since they were kids, sharing the same abandoned subway train bedroom at night.
“Something happened during that fight. Something we missed.” Leonardo hated when his brothers bottled up their problems. As leader he needed to know everything that could affect them in battle, and as the eldest brother he needed to look after them at home too.
“Whatever happened we have to let him work through it alone. Its not our place to get in his business about it.” Raphael knew that his best friend would only close himself off more if they pried, they had to let him come to them. “This little meeting is over.”
No one was really surprised when Raphael left them in the sitting room to carry on without him. But Raphael was surprised when he passed Michelangelo's room and realised his little brother was still awake.
Stitches were always painful since they couldn't get hold of any reliable pain control, and especially after their rooftop drinking session Michelangelo should be all but passed out by now.
Raphael didn't interrupt, but peeked through the crack in the door, wanting to see what his brother was up to so late.
The youngest turtle, was sat leaning his shell against the wall, obviously tired but forcing himself to stay awake. Raphael couldn't be sure, but he seemed to be working on repairing the sword he'd taken from the fight, sanding down the broken and jagged edges ready to be made usable again. His eyes seemed dead in the flickering candle light.
Whatever had happened in the fight, Raphael was sure had been caused by the foot solider who wielded that weapon. And as he headed off to his own room, he vowed that he would find out what had caused his best friend and brother so much pain.
xXxXxXx
Michelangelo could feel one of his brothers at his door, and since they didn't barge in or tell him to sleep he could guess that it was Raphael.
Usually he'd just tell him to buzz off or lock the door, but tonight he was just too tired, physically and mentally.
He knew it was stupid, he was being weak, and that made him even more angry at himself. He had no right to mope around like this, what happened must happen all to the time to his brothers, so why the hell was it affecting him so strongly.
With a sigh he placed the sword to the side. It was almost too badly damaged to repair, at best it would have to be made into a dagger instead of a sword, more work than he ever put into a weapon that wasn't his nunchucks.
With a sigh he started to blow out the candles in his room. He needed to at least try to sleep. Even though he was sure it wouldn't come easy tonight.
