Chapter Text
It all happened so fast. One second Raph’s fists were clenched by his sides, shoulders tense and trembling, listening to Leo shout at him for stealing the yellow crayon and breaking it—that he knew it was Mikey’s favorite, and he ruined it (of course he knew that! He didn’t mean to break it, it was an accident!)—and the next, Leo was on the floor and Raph’s knuckles were stinging, still suspended midair.
For a second, it’s quiet save for Raph’s harsh breathing. Then everything explodes with noise. Mikey and Leo begin to wail almost simultaneously, and Leo’s clutching his eye, and Raph is looking at his knuckles, anger dissipating quickly with every stuttered sob. In the corner, Mikey buries his face in Donnie’s chest who was trying to calm him down as best he could. Raph looks back down at Leo, who’s wails have gotten louder, and he quickly drops to his knees, hands hovering uselessly over his brother’s curled form.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” he chokes out, throat burning. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please don’t cry, it’s okay—” he rambles. He puts his hand on Leo’s shoulder to turn him towards him. “Let me see—”
Suddenly, Leo’s hands connect with his plastron and pushes Raph away. Leo scoots back, and glares through his tears at Raph. He’s breathing heavy, and Raph is frozen in place.
“I—I’m sorry, Leo, it was an accident, I promise! I didn’t—”
“I hate you!” Leo screams, loud enough that Mikey stops wailing, and Raph stops breathing, like the breath was punched out of him.
“Wh—what?” He breathes.
Leo sniffles, wiping his tears away, still glaring with what Raph can now place as hatred in his eyes. “You’re—you’re so mean all the time! You always yell and scream and break things! You scare Mikey, and Donnie doesn’t like it! I don’t like it! So stop it! Stop being so mean!” He ends with a wail, bringing his hands up to his face again.
Raph pulls his hands close to his chest, digging his fingers into his knuckles. Is that… really what he was like? Was that all they saw him as? Some sort of bully? His throat clicks with an effort to say something, but he can’t think of anything to say. His vision blurs with tears, and he stutters a breath taking great effort to not break into great heaving sobs.
Leo, through his blurry vision, shifts on his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. He opens his mouth to say something, unsure, but is interrupted quickly, and they all jump at the new noise.
“Boys! What is going on here?” Splinter stood in the doorway, arms crossed and looking very disappointed, crumbs still gathered around his whiskers. It was midday commercial snack break, Raph remembered distantly.
Leo turned his back to Raph, no longer hesitating, and cries to Splinter, loud and shrill: “Raph hit me! He punched me right in my eye!” He pointed around tears that never stopped running down his face.
Splinter looks at Raph, then Donnie and Mikey who were still clinging together to the side. “Is this true, Red?” He asked mildly.
And Raph, still reeling, feels himself nod. He feels disconnected from his body, numb from shock. He couldn’t take his eyes off Leo, who was scooped up by Splinter to look at his eye closer. He poked around the injury, and Raph’s gut twisted when Leo winced.
“It will likely bruise, but it doesn’t seem like there is anything serious. I will look over it again in an hour,” he says matter-of-factly, patting his son’s head gently and lovingly.
And like the flip of a switch, he looks back to Raph, every ounce of gentleness evaporating from his typically kindly features. “Red.” The air stilled around his words, and Raph held his breath, so it didn’t hitch. “You are grounded. Go to your room.”
He felt rooted to the spot, looking between his father staring at him with disdain, Donnie who had his eyes squeezed shut, tense around Mikey who still couldn’t look at him, face buried in Donnie’s chest, and Leo still cradled in his dad’s arms, shoulders shaking with quiet tears. He caused this, he realized, and his lip wobbled dangerously.
“Now, Raphael.” His father’s tone was enough to send Raph running down the hall back to his room, sliding the curtain shut, and slipping under his bed in one fluid motion.
He buried his head in his arms, letting his tears fall, muffling his sobs with his hands. He didn’t mean to hit Leo, he didn’t—he promises! He would never ever hurt anyone one purpose! It was an accident. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep, shuddering breath that rattles his shell.
He’s not sure how long he sits under his bed, trying not to cry, but he knows it must be a while because he can hear a Jupiter Jim movie on in the background—Leo’s favorite he realizes with a pang. He sniffs one last time, wiping his face that’s long since gone dry, and rests his chin on his hands, but winces when he feels a sharp pain in his hand.
He pulls it out to look at it, and past the dim lighting, he can see it’s gotten red and a little puffy. He frowns, poking it viciously. He hates it. Why did he have to go and punch Leo anyway? Why would he do that!
He just wanted to use the stupid yellow crayon, but when he pressed too hard and it snapped—Leo freaked out on him for no reason! Sure, it was Mikey’s favorite color, but they had like a million other yellows! “I didn’t mean to break the stupid crayon,” he muttered to himself, voice thick and scratchy from crying. “And I didn’t mean to hit Leo. But now they all hate me,” he mumbled, tears building back up in his throat.
He puts his head in his hands again and his shoulders shake forcefully with barely held back sobs. Leo didn’t really mean it right? They couldn’t hate him, he takes care of them all the time when Splinter is too tired to leave his room!
He makes sure they eat, and that they get to bed on time, and that they have a bath when they smell bad—he’s not just some bully! He doesn’t even get mad that often, he thought.
Just when they were being dumb, or weren’t listening to him, but those were usually for good reasons! Leo just—he just didn’t get it! He glared down at his hand, and his heart clenched at the memory of his brother, crying on the floor.
He didn’t mean to…
But he just got mad! Leo was driving him crazy and he just needed him to be quiet! He glares at the floor, picking at the ends of his mask tails, a recent nervous habit. (Even though they only got the masks for a present last year, Raph has already torn the ends off and worn holes into the fabric.)
They just made him so angry sometimes, he thought, clenching his fists around the fabric. Did that make him mean? Even if he can be really nice, if he gets too mad then does that mean nothing else he does before then matters?
That didn’t seem right, to Raph, but when he remembered Leo’s face when he said he hated him, he wasn’t so sure.
He may not have meant to hurt Leo, but he still did. He never means to hurt anyone, but he scares Mikey and Donnie, and Leo said he hated him because of it. He’s doing something wrong, and he wants to fix it, but he doesn’t know how. He can’t control how he feels! He just gets mad!
Raph bites his tongue, and just tries not to think about it. Maybe Splinter can help him think of something! The movie in the other room was almost over. He should come in any minute now to talk to him, like they did every time he got in trouble. He just had to wait.
So, patiently, he counted the seconds until Splinter would arrive, trying not to think about anything else because he’s tired of crying.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8….
Raph wakes up with a start, jumping and hitting his head against his bedframe with a thunk. He groaned, rubbing his head and blinking away the tears in his eyes, looking around confused. What time was it?
The lights on the other side of his curtain were dark, and everything was quiet. He frowns. Did Splinter not come in to check on him? He crawled out slowly, and stretched out his sore muscles gingerly, like Splinter showed him to. His hand throbs with every movement, and it feels like it hurts more now than it did before.
He frowns, morose—if his hand hurt that bad, he could only imagine how bad Leo must feel.
Raph sighs, and steps quietly to his curtain, poking his head out. Everyone must have fallen asleep. He pushes aside the hurt that surfaces quickly when he realizes no one came to check on him, reminding himself fiercely that he doesn’t deserve it anyway. He hurt Leo—no wonder they didn’t want to see him. Maybe they were worried he’d hurt them too.
He shakes the thought away and sneaks out of his room and into the kitchen as quiet as possible for a snack. He didn’t get to eat dinner, and a glass of water would be nice.
Raph picks up a stool as carefully as possible and moves it to the counter, setting it down slowly and gently. He climbs up to reach the cups and pours himself a full cup of water, gulping it down quickly. He pours another and sets it down for later. He pokes through the fridge for anything quiet and quick to eat when suddenly he hears something from his father’s room.
Splinter’s room is right next to the kitchen and TV room (for convenience he had said). Raph can hear him muttering something, but it doesn’t sound like he was entering the kitchen. Raph looks between the fridge and his father’s room, and he shuts the door slowly, sneaking closer to Splinter’s room.
The door was slightly ajar, and Raph peered in to see Splinter kneeled in front of an altar, whispering gentle words to the quiet flame of a candle. He tilted his head, but stayed quiet. After a moment, Splinter sighed, looking up to the ceiling, tired and weary.
“What am I going to do with that boy? His temper only seems to grow every day, and I’ve tried every trick I know, but nothing seems to stick with him. I don’t know what else to do with him—and now it’s getting worse!” Raph’s heart lodges in his throat when he realizes Splinter is talking about him, but stays quiet, shrinking back. He watches as Splinter slumps, and scratches the back of his neck, sighing. Quietly, so quietly Raph almost doesn’t catch it, he mutters, “I never even wanted to be a father. I’m not cut out for this. I’m not sure what guided me to take them in so long ago.”
Raph reels back, narrowly missing the doorframe and he steps back, very quickly realizing he should not be listening to this, and he should not have been eavesdropping on something like this.
He runs back quickly to his room, and dives on top of his bed, heart hammering. Splinter didn’t want them? Was it because of him? Was he too difficult and Splinter decided he didn't want to deal with it anymore?
Raph’s lip wobbles again, but his eyes were too tired to tear up. It was all his fault, wasn’t it? He ruined it for everyone else, now Splinter doesn’t want any of them.
Leo hates him, Donnie and Mikey are scared of him, and now Splinter is tired of dealing with him. The realization cracks his heart in two. They probably didn’t even want him around anymore.
His face crumples, and he’s glad no one is around to see him curl into his shell in grief.
He’s not sure how long he sits on his bed, partially tucked into his shell and on the verge of tears, but he straightens at the sound of footsteps down the hallway. Is it Splinter?
He quickly dives under his covers, pulling them over his head. He feigns sleep just in time for his curtain to open.
“Red?” Dad asks, quietly. He sounded tired. Raph doesn’t say anything, holding his breath.
He hears Splinter sigh. He closes his curtain, and Raph waits a long time before poking his head out. He was alone.
Raph sits up, mind stewing in bad thoughts.
He’s not being a good brother. Or a good son. He’s mean now, and he doesn’t want to be mean. He grits his teeth, puffing his chest out in determination, and grabs his favorite teddy bear off his bed, tucking it into a small fanny pack that Splinter brought back from a scavenging trip.
He strapped the pack around his middle, cautious of his spikes. And he takes a deep breath, and sneaks back into the kitchen to grab the last box of dinosaur chicken nuggets from the freezer, and a water bottle from their emergency supplies.
He tucks them under his arms and sets his jaw.
He pauses in front of Leo’s room and peeks past his curtain to see all three of his brothers piled together on his bed, snoring peacefully. He sneaks in quietly, and winces when he sees the shallow bruise settling in on Leo’s eye. He takes a deep breath and lets it out quietly.
“I’m sorry, guys,” he whispers, sadly from the curtain, not daring to get any closer. “I—I love you. Stay safe while I’m gone, okay?” He asked, trying his best to keep his voice even.
He turns to leave after surveying their faces one more time, when he hears someone shuffle. He glances back, frozen, and sees Leo, blinking his eyes open, bleary and half-lidded. “Raphie?” he yawns, still half-asleep.
Raph shushes him gently and tells him to go back to sleep.
Leo just hums, eyes slipping closed again. “Where you going?” He slurs, shuffling slightly to get more comfortable. His brow is furrowed—he seems upset. Upset that Raph was here or that he was leaving? (He almost smacks himself for the thought, obviously he wouldn't want Raph around when he was sleeping and defenseless—not after today.)
Raph forces the emotion back down his throat. “Nowhere buddy. Go back to sleep.” He hesitates with his hand around the curtain. He didn’t want to leave yet, he felt like he had so much left to say. His heart aches. “Keep them safe for me, okay? I’m sorry.” His only response is a soft snore, so he ducks back to the other side of the curtain, looking at them one last time. “Bye-bye,” he says weakly, waving the way Mikey always would when Splinter left for supply runs.
And he swishes the curtain closed, sneaking down the sewer tunnel. He left his home for the first time on his own. His jaw sat determined, and his eyes glinted as he marched into the dark, empty tunnels.
He was leaving, and he wasn't going to come back until he learned how to be a better brother, and a better son. His family deserved better, so he was going to give them better!
He was doing the right thing. Of course he was. It was to keep them happy. And safe—away from him. This would be for the best.
He was sure of it.
---
Raph realized pretty quickly that maybe he should have planned this out better. He didn't realize how cold the sewers got at night, and he ran out of food fairly quickly. A flashlight would have been nice too, he thought.
He decided after a few hours of wandering and crunching on frozen chicken nuggets, that he should find a new place to stay. Somewhere close to a manhole cover so he can leave easier when he needs food maybe? Which might be fairly soon, since he was already almost done with the entire box.
He nods firmly, mind made up. He would find a secure spot for his new home, and then he would go above ground and find some more food. Da—Splinter does it all the time, so how hard could it be? Nevermind that he’s never been on the surface before, he’ll figure it out.
Raph spends the next hour or so wandering aimlessly. He passes a few manhole covers, but they didn’t have any good hiding spots nearby. He kept looking.
Eventually, he finds a crack in the wall just a few minutes’ trek away from a fairly decrepit looking cover. It must not be used very much. Even better, he thinks.
He can just barely shimmy his way through the hole in the wall, and even if the space is fairly cramped, he has just enough room to curl up and rest. He can’t stand up all the way, but why would he need to? It suited his temporary needs just fine, and that was all that was on Raph’s mind.
He heaves a great sigh, the spikes on his shell grazing the ceiling.
His legs were aching from all the walking he was doing, and he was tired since he didn’t get any sleep yet. He only had a few chicken nuggets left, so he pushed them to the side to save them for the morning.
Raph yawned, rubbing his eyes. He wondered if his brothers were sleeping well.
He frowned. He wouldn’t be there to help them if they were having a nightmare, he realized. But—what if the nightmare was about him? Maybe it was for the best he wasn’t there. He curled up even tighter, shivering.
The last thought that chases him into oblivion is that he should have brought a blanket.