“Drink this. It’ll ease the pain.”
“…I suppose I should be glad the ambush happened. It brought us together, after all-thank you. I’ve missed you, otouto. And the others-“
The boy grasped at his side with an unceremonious cough that shook his shoulders violently. Donatello flinched, but waited the spasm to subside in silence; Leonardo needed rest. He’d exerted himself much too hard for much too long ever since the brothers’ forced separation, the evidence criss-crossed on the worn hilt of his sword and skin, fresh grooves carved into shell. His path in this world had been an arduous one, and Donatello grimly realized how fortunate he himself had been.
“Lie down,” he muttered quietly, stirring the pot of medicinal tea at his side. It should only take a few more minutes before the sedative quality of the brew began to do its work.
“Under my watch, you’ll be safe.”