Thus, Love

Part 19

You weren't sure what to expect when Leo had come banging on your door.

The lack of disguise and single-minded fury of his knuckles rapping made your heart leap into your throat.

It had been days. And part of you was angry, a large part of you hurt. But part of you was terrified something had happened. Something bad. Something awful.

Truthfully, you were relieved he was alive.

When you opened the door the anger faded away to shock. Scabbed over wounds covered his body, bursts of pink and red against the green of his flesh. Red-purple and darkly brown spots spread over him in what you could only assume were bruises.

He sported medical wrappings around his knuckles, something like duct tape across his shell. His plastron.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Leonardo's face was cold, distant. Worn, exhausted. You could see the burden on him. Weighing him down.

Cautiously you took a step forward, hand touching his arm in questioning.

When Leo didn't flinch or move away you slid your touch up to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. Heart throbbing in agony when he leaned into your touch so that you had to cup his face. Gaze drifting to his eyes, scar. The way his lower lip tucked between his teeth. The way he breathed in shudders. His fists clenching.

"Are you okay?" You genuinely needed to know.

He sucked in a trembling breath, seemingly unaware of the tears already falling down his face. "W-" Leo's voice shook. Unconvincing. "We can't."

You narrowed your eyes, but that train of thought was quickly lost as he fell to the floor, arms wrapping around you.

And he sobbed. 

You felt his body shudder, he tried to speak, but wails, soul wrenching, ripped out of him instead.

Your fear rose higher. Thoughts racing across your mind as you knelt with him, holding him to you. Trying to comfort him with words, whispers, kisses peppering his skin as he clung to you. His grip was painfully tight, like he'd fall apart if he wasn't anchoring himself to you.

You saw the boys peering out at you from their room. The looks of confusion and fear on their faces tugged at you, but you had one disaster to manage first. Silently you held a finger to your lips, shook your head.

Your middle son, understanding, dragged his brothers back into the bedroom. The door closing behind them. You heard the TV start up and focused on the man in front of you.

"Okay." You whispered, hand running over his shell, marveling at the texture, tactile patterns. "Okay."

His sobs quieted. His breath began coming in steadier.

"I know." You soothed, understanding the feeling of loss. Of exhaustion.

You'd been there. When your ex walked out, left you with three kids, one just 6 weeks old. When you didn't know how you'd make ends meet. When you missed another school play to work overtime so you could afford Christmas. When your middle son told you that you were a shitty parent.

You'd broken down countless times right here in this very spot. Sobbing, unable to move. Shattered by life.

"I know." You repeated, empathy bringing tears to your own eyes.

"You don't know." Leo insisted, looking just as tired, but less worn, than before.

You bit back the argument that bubbled in your chest. Simply nodding as you stood, pulling him back to his feet.