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one-chicago-writer · 4 months ago

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Breaking Point

Y/N Halstead has been pushing herself to the breaking point, eventually, she can't do it anymore. Will her brothers be able to help her rebuild and teach her it's ok to not be, ok?

Trigger Warnings: Panic attack, fainting, blood, self-injury (minor), anxiety, emotional distress, dissociation.

Y/N Halstead had been feeling off all day.

There was a subtle tightness in her chest from the moment she woke up. A pressure. Not painful, not alarming. Just… heavy. But she ignored it. Because she had things to do. A full day of classes, studying for her CCMA Certification exam, a closing shift at her restaurant job.

Always something.

Always moving.

Because if she kept moving, maybe her world wouldn't give in on her.

Her brothers, Will and Jay, had been worried. She brushed them off like she always did. "I'm fine," she said that morning. "Just tired."

But the thing about constantly carrying weight is that eventually, you drop it, and you never know when it will happen.

It started in her favorite class. Medical Assisting.

The heaviness in her chest had turned into shallow breaths. Then the chest pressure spread, like an invisible hand pushing down on her lungs. Her hands trembled, and the room began to tilt.

She didn’t know what to do. She ran.

Jay was sitting at his desk at the Precinct, when he got the call from an unknown number.

“Halstead.” He answered.

“Hi. Detective Halstead. This is Mrs. Nalton from the Vocational Center. I just wanted to let you know that Y/N ran out of class very abruptly. I just wanted to make sure she was ok.” She stated, genuine concern in her voice.

“Oh wow, that is not like her at all. Thanks for letting me know.” He ended the call without so much as a goodbye.

He got up from his desk and went to Voight. “Sarge, Ive gotta take a personal. Y/N’s teacher just called. She ran out of class.”

Voight looked up at him in shock. “Go. Keep us posted.” He said with no hesitation.

Jay nodded and ran. He called Will as he did. “Will, be ready outside Med. Its Y/N.” No further statement was needed. Jay got in his truck and gunned it towards Med.

Y/N didn't even know how she drove home, but she did.

Get water, her brain said. Water will help.

She stumbled through the door, into the kitchen, her vision doubling, black creeping in at the edges. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, each beat a frantic warning.

By the time she reached the sink, she was gasping, each breath more difficult than the last.

And then the floor rushed up to meet her, the last thing she heard was the shattering of the glass she tried to grab.

Will and Jay arrived, Jay barely putting the car in park before he was out of the truck, Will hot on his heels.

The first red flag was that the front door was ajar.

"That isn't like her at all," Jay muttered as they entered the apartment.

"Not at all," Will replied, already concerned. He dropped his keys. "Y/N?"

No answer.

Jay reached the kitchen first.

And he froze.

"WILL!"

Y/N lay crumpled on the floor. Her skin pale, her breaths shallow and fast. One hand was curled toward her chest. There was broken glass nearby and blood on her palm.

Will dropped beside her, instinct kicking in.

"Y/N, hey!" he called. She didn’t respond.

He pinched her trapezius. Nothing.

Then he did a sternal rub—knuckles against her sternum, hard. Her eyes fluttered open at the pain stimulus, but they were glassy, unfocused.

"There she is," Will breathed.

"What—what happened to her?" Jay asked, voice cracking.

"Panic attack. A bad one," Will said. "Help me lay her flat"

But as they tried to help her to her back, Y/N flinched violently.

"No… no, don't touch me!" she cried out, eyes wide with terror.

"Y/N, it’s us," Jay said quickly, kneeling next to her. "It’s me. Jay. You’re safe."

She pushed his hands away, barely coherent. "I can’t breathe… can’t—"

"Will," Jay said urgently.

"She's combative," Will murmured. "We need to ground her."

Jay didn't hesitate. He sat her up, pulled her into a tight bear hug from behind, arms wrapped securely around her, anchoring her like he had when she was little and scared after nightmares.

"You’re okay," he whispered into her hair. "I got you. We got you."

She struggled for a moment, then slowly melted into his hold, sobbing, shaking, and hyperventilating.

Will took her hand that wasn't bleeding and held it to his chest. “Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me, and follow my breathing.” He said as he started to take deep, exaggerated breaths.

Once her breathing was under control, Will grabbed a towel and gently wrapped her bleeding hand. "Just a small cut. We’ll take care of it."

He helped them move to the couch. Jay held her while Will cleaned the wound.

"You fainted," Will told her gently. "You were hyperventilating. Do you remember?"

She nodded weakly.

"It’s okay now," Jay said, brushing hair from her face. "You’re not alone."

"I’m fine," she whispered a few minutes later.

Will froze. Jay sat up.

Will looked up, eyes shadowed. "Y/N…"

"I’m okay. I just—needed a moment. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s nothing."

Jay stood fast. He started pacing.

Then turned. "Don’t you dare say it’s nothing."

She shrank into the couch.

Jay crouched in front of her. "We walked in and found you on the floor, barely breathing. There was blood. You didn’t know where you were. And you think we’re just gonna let that go?"

Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to flow over again.

Will’s voice was softer, but no less pained. "Y/N… you ran out of class. Your teacher called us. That’s not ‘fine.’ That’s not ‘a moment.’ You’re not okay, and it’s okay to say that."

Jay sat beside her again, not touching her yet.

Will leaned forward. "You know what kills me? I see patients like this every day. People who push themselves too far, who hold it in until their bodies give out. And I didn’t see it in my own sister."

Y/N’s lip quivered.

"I should’ve noticed," Will said. "The late nights. The way you brush us off. You’re so damn good at pretending. You didn’t have to be."

"I didn’t want to be a burden," she choked out.

Jay swore and pulled her into his arms. "You could never be a burden."

She broke.

Sobs wracked her frame, raw and shattering. Jay held her tighter. Will wrapped an arm around both of them.

"You’re ours," Will said. "There is nothing you could go through that we wouldn’t want to help you with."

"I thought… if I just worked harder… kept pushing… I could hold it together."

Jay tucked her hair behind her ear. "You’ve been holding the world on your shoulders. You never had to."

Jay helped her to the bathroom, sat on the floor while she washed her hands. When she couldn’t dry them, he did it for her.

Will brought her a sweatshirt from her childhood—soft, oversized, familiar. He helped her into it.

They settled her on the couch. Water. Weighted blanket. Quiet.

After a long silence:

"I’ve been having attacks like that for a while."

Will didn’t look surprised. Just sad. "How long?"

"Weeks. Maybe longer. This one was… different. I couldn’t stop it."

Jay’s jaw ticked. "We’re getting you help. No arguing."

"I know," she said. "I want to."

Will looked stunned for a second, then nodded.

Later, she lay curled under the blanket, Will on the floor beside her, Jay at the other end of the couch with his hand resting on her ankle like an anchor.

Almost asleep, she heard it again:

"Don’t break. Don’t break. Don’t break."

But something had shifted.

"You broke. But they were there. And you’re still here."

She let herself breathe.

TAGLIST: @zoeykaytesmom, @Skywalker0809, @knbubbles

#HalsteadSiblings #YNSelfInsert #Angst #HurtComfort #PanicAttack #EmotionalBreakdown #ProtectiveBrothers #WillHalstead #JayHalstead #Overworking #MentalHealth #SiblingBond #ComfortFic #SoftMoments #ChicagoMed #ChicagoPD #OneShot #CrisisToComfort

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webco-dawnn · 7 months ago

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Karasuno Third Years Hcs !!

These are some hcs about how I think the Karasuno third years would react to you being tired/overworked. this is just part one so there will be more parts with more teams and more years in the next few days!! but I hope you enjoy these hcs :) (also this post includes hcs with: Daichi Sawamura, Sugawara Koushi, Kiyoko Shimizu, & Asahi Azumane)

Daichi Sawamura

He walks into the gym, ready to set up for the early morning practice they had. He expected to find the gym quiet and dark like it usually is when he first gets there, but then he sees you, spiking a ball against the wall over and over again. just you. by yourself. at 6 in the morning, practicing.

Concern fills his eyes as he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. You haven't seem to have noticed him yet through the sounds of the ball smacking against the wall repeatedly.

When he walks over, he asks you how long you've been here practicing. you come up with some excuse, saying you've only been here for about thirty minutes, but from the eye bags, Daichi could tell you were lying through your teeth.

he sighed and brought you over to one of the benches near the side of the gym, sitting you down and sitting down next to you. he hands you a bottle full of cold water, watching you gulp it down before insisting that you need to take better care of yourself. he tells you that you're working just as hard, if not harder, than everyone else on the team, and by spending more time in the gym won't do anything other than burn you out.

after his fatherly-like rant, he offers to take you home. when you tell him he'd be late for practice if he did, he said it didn't mind as long as it meant you were safe at home and resting.

Sugawara Koushi

The setter was staying over at your house for the night, as it was Friday, after all. he'd probably be staying for the whole weekend like usual. Ever since you two got together, he's basically been attached to your side.

He sat on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you worked on some group project on your floor. Originally, he had tried to tell you that it was the weekend and you shouldn't have to worry about this project, but you just replied back saying it was fine and that you were almost done anyway.

You had to paint a picture that went along with this group project of studying around the world. the group had to pick a country and do a little bit of research on it as well as draw a picture of a landmark there.

But after about an hour in, Sugawara started to notice that, not only were you painting, but while you were finishing for the paint to dry to add more layers on top, you were typing up a paper on your laptop. Concerned, he decided to ask about it.

And you had no other choice but to explain to him that you were basically doing this group project alone.. none of your other group members had done anything to contribute to the project whatsoever, so you were also typing up the paper of information.

Sugawara frowned and got down from your bed, closing your laptop and placing it on your desk. then he carefully picked up your painting supplies and also put it on your desk, alongside with your painting.

Then he got you a cup of water and reassured you that you didn't have to do all this by yourself. he'd help you tell your teacher that nobody was helping you if you needed him too. he rubbed your back softly before placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

Kiyoko Shimizu

You had recently joined an after school club, mostly just to please your parents/guardian, but also because you enjoyed the main activity in this club. Writing. You had found a passion for writing at a young age and carried that passion with you all the way to high school. Now, here you are, in the club room by yourself. The club's meeting ended about an hour ago, but you insisted on staying afterwards to continue working on your project which was writing the draft for your book.

You had been staying after meetings more and more often, overworking yourself to the bone. Thankfully, though, nobody noticed. Even if the people in the club started to get suspicious of you, you always insisted that you were fine, making up an excuse that you liked to stay longer because your parents/guardian worked late and weren't home by the time the club ended.

One person didn't fall for your tricks, though. Kiyoko. She was currently your girlfriedn and didn't fall for this trick.

When you exited the club room to use the bathroom for a quick minute, you spotted Kiyoko, who just so happened to be walking near you. She froze as she saw you, looking you up, head to toe, before letting out a soft sigh. She knew you were overworking yourself.

She approached you and pulled you into a warm hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek and telling you, "You should stop doing this. You're tired." The two of you stayed like that for a minute. Afterwards, she walked you home and talked to you.

Asahi Azumane

Due to your parents/guardian losing their job, you decided to step in and get one yourself. It was only a part-time job after school so you didn't earn too much money, but it was still money, right?

But, soon that part-time job turned into basically a full-time job. You picking up other people's shifts if they couldn't make it, purposely working overtime to get more money to support your family. It was hard and you were struggling. Though you tried to put up a happy facade, smiling through your exhaustion and continued to keep the smile on your face even if you felt lots of pain, both mentally and physically. Working these long hours put a lot of strain on your body.

You worked at a gas station, sitting behind the counter and tiredly scanning people's items and having to deal with angry customers. Though, you spot one familiar face as he approaches you with a few items in hand. Asahi.

Asahi's expression turned surprised, eyes widening slightly. "Oh, you work here?" he asked, as he set down his items on the counter. You responded with just a sheepish smile and a nod. "Yep. Been working here for a bit now." Asahi caught onto the tired tone in your voice.

As he took a closer look at you, he noticed the eye bags underneath your eyes, the way your eyes were dull instead of the light that filled them. He frowned. "Hey, it's kinda late, isn't it? How long have you been working today?"

As if on autopilot, you respond, "six hours." You didn't even realize your mistake until after you looked up at Asahi to see his expression, which was now twisted into more of a surprised and kind of horrified look.

"hey, i'll drive you home. don't worry," Asahi said, picking up his bags of items after they had been scanned by you. A soft smile made its way onto Asahi's lips. "Try not to overwork yourself in the future, okay?"

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angst-after-dark · 21 days ago

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CW: BBU/BBU-ADJACENT SETTING, EXHAUSTION, OVERWORKING, COLLAPSE/FAINTING. UNHEALTHY COPING, RECOVERING WHUMPEE

Peyton belongs to @wildfae-afterdark and is used with permission.

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @badgerwhump, @flowersarefreetherapy, @gottawhump, @oddsconvert, @cepheusgalaxy

The kitchen buzzed with frenetic movement. It was chaos on the face of it, but under everything, it was a finely calibrated machine. Everyone had their place and they knew what was required of them. Timing was everything.

Do the work, do it well, and do it in time.

Sweat stuck to Peyton like it had been glued there. It stuck to his skin, his hair, his apron, everything. His sweat mingled with the rest of the kitchen staff, the chefs, waiters, and busboys like him. The smell of it mixed with the scent of ripe fruit and sugar, almonds, and grease. Meaty, bloody steak sizzled on the grill with hot oil, peppers and onions. Broiling stew intermingled with the aroma of cheese pastries fresh from the oven. It filled the kitchen with delicious steam and heat.

Peyton’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that the muffin he’d snagged from the breakfast tray wasn't nearly enough to tide him over. He leaned over the sink to rest his aching back. His fingers trembled as another round of glass plates were dumped on the side of the sink, waiting for him to get them clean.

"Need more cups, kid!" Willow shouted at him. She pushed her way through the swinging door and Peyton nodded. He hurriedly filled another metal tray with glasses and lifted it into the dishwasher. The spray of hot water and heat did nothing to cool him off or banish sweat clinging to him. It was almost unbearable but Peyton could only adjust the bandana he had tied on his sweating forehead.

Being in the kitchen was nothing but effort. The days were long and exhausting. The kitchen was hot. The lunch rush was the worst. The little diner wasn't in the city proper but it still had a good, loyal customer base and new customers were discovering it everyday. Despite its location, it was always crowded. Especially around lunch. Everyone was tense and impatient and Peyton could barely keep up with the dishes. His feet ached, his back ached, and the bright lights made his head hurt but the chef paid him in cash and no one asked questions. Even if this was his third closing shift in a row, and second triple in a week.

The next two seconds happened in slow motion.

He grit his teeth and tried to ignore the dizziness and increasing feeling of nausea like he had earlier but he still found himself stumbling over his feet.

He stacked up the next round of dishes and returned to Willow's station when his hands trembled. The entire tray tilted horribly, glasses sliding to one side and catching on the rim of the tray, only to be sent toppling by the plates that followed.

A small gasp left his lips.

He’d never dropped a whole platter like that before. Willow ran around from the metal counter, shedding soaked gloves to grab Peyton's shoulders. He hadn’t realized he’d been tipping over, either.

Peyton blinked and his mind raced. Had he? All his thoughts were too fast, slipping through his fingers like water in a sieve. Willow pressed a hand to his face, warm, something to sink into, and seemed to get her answer.

“Peyton!” a voice shouted but it sounded far away and distorted.

He felt himself falling, the ground came rushing in suddenly, his vision tunnelling to dark and then nothing.. When the world righted itself again, he was freezing.

Confused, Peyton reached out, trying to find whoever called him but the next thing he knew he was laying on his back on the floor. Dazed, he tried to sit up only to be stopped by the feeling of hands gently pressing down on his shoulders. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening but nothing came out.

Licking his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, a blanket of fatigue washed over him. Almost like someone had sucked out all his energy. It felt like water being poured from the top of his head down to his toes leaving Peyton feeling heavy and light at the same time.

“Stop moving,” Willow commanded, pressing down more firmly on his shoulders.

Hearing that, Peyton felt some of the fog clearing and finally realized where he was and who was touching him. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he brought a hand up to try and push Willow’s hands off but she knelt next to him, cradling his head on her lap.

“Hey, Kid?” she tried softly, and he turned his head towards her voice, one eye cracking open.

“Hmmm, wh-what happened?” His voice was so weak, Willow had to lean forward to hear him.

“Seems you’ve gotten sick; you have a wicked fever.”

“That… That can’t be. I—” He tried sitting up again but collapsed back against her lap. “—I have to do this. We both do hard things.”

"No, Kid, you're going home and you're going to rest."

"But Dami. My bonded-" he snapped his mouth closed, paling further. He shouldn't have said that. What was a better word? He had to think of something equal to that. He scrambled to find something in his soupy brain. There was nothing equal.

"Your bonded will be fine," Willow said softly, "I'll drop by with some medicine and food."

He stared up at her, eyes and nose stinging with unshed tears. They made his head hurt. Dami wouldn't trust her. Dami would grunt and say "no thanks" and keep going. Dami wouldn't have failed.

Peyton wasn't Dami. He was tired.

He nodded, letting Willow help him up. "Okay. Okay. Um, yes. Please. Please help me."

#whump #bbu #pet whump #sick whump #exhaustion #collapse #overworking #whump writing #peyton montgomery #motel arc

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smoughenthusias · 2 years ago

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! OVERHEAT !

#lies of p #p lies of p #overthinking #overworking #overdoing #overfueling

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jahnavisurenda-21 · 1 year ago

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Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||It's okay To Rest

Just realized with all me getting accepted into school and all, caused me to stress about not disappointing my parents, relatives So it's okay to take it easy.

Usually, Alastor would see you socializing either the other people like Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk and all during your days in hell, but this time he began noticing you, becoming more and more reclined towards your room.

Your room probably was the most comforting one in the entire hotel, All the books Alastor would bring you would be piled, or decorated in the bookshelves, the fairy lights casted a warm and inviting glow to your reader's heart, you had a dressing table and next to it were satin nightgowns, shrugs lined on a rack, Alastor found you whimsical and enchanting, like he was just allowed for just a moment to see the world you saw.

Your worktable, which used to be a few scraps of paper and loose sheets now was filled with random annotations, and question marks, diaries were tossed in one corner, and then a sewing kit was tossed in the other, it was really unlike you to just toss your things around.

Alastor knew you loved to eat, the different types of cookbooks he owned and recipes he learned through radio broadcasts you would always love them, it was one of his most obvious love languages, Now Alastor brought you some well cooked dinner, lunch paired with a desert to cheer you up, but these past few months in hell he has seen you getting more exhausted, he would find you sleeping on your desk, you sometimes complained of a back pain.

Alastor thought of making you some more tapes of his voice, maybe like a little reminder for you to just rest and take care of your health, you were not a soul, you were a human, and he knew this wasn't going to get you anywhere.

Alastor had a fair idea of the things you liked, Books, Rain, Tea, but this time he had actually visited the cannibal town one of the pleasant places in hell, because it was miraculously neat, decent, and came with a lot of things like books, recipe books, candles, and were selling really nice bath items, as a surprise he brought them over for you, he wanted to run you a nice bath so you could unwind.

"My dear, all this work is not good for you, come on now I have a little surprise for you, which should lighten your mood a little." "I'll just write this page and--" "What if after just a bit of unwinding you might have a clearer idea of what should go into the paper."

You gave that thought a go, and your glad you did, because Alastor had prepared the most beautiful bath you could've expected, the room had an earthy and relaxing scent waffling through it, and a warm bath which had candles casting a warm glow over the room, the water was warm and soothing, you felt a wave of gratitude towards Alastor, he really did notice the small offs in you, it made you feel cared for and seen.

You felt your tense muscles relax against the warm bath, and your endless inner dialogue nagging you to write this or write this was coming to a comforting standstill and just like those two hours had passed by.

When you returned back to your room, it felt fresh, Alastor had sprayed some room freshener it smelled like fresh apples, somewhat even husky, the desk had been cleaned you notice new shelves carrying proud parchment papers, quills, pens, pencils with new decor, you sighed sitting on your bed feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you could finally relax.

Alastor handed you another book, well it was a journal it had a dark green color, it looked neatly wrapped and had a little black ribbon which you could use to tie around the journal, you were a little shocked and pleasantly surprised by how the evening had been turning out,

"I noticed you have a lot of Journals, and I remember you talking to Charlie about how you would buy a new one."

"Alastor... This whole evening, I don't know what to say, except thank you."

"Eat your meals on time dear, don't overwork yourself, and sleep on time."

You nodded feeling really glad, that even in a place like hell, you had someone so warm and caring and that makes you happy even in hell.

#lovestories #romance #beauty #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #overworking #comfort fanfic #warmth

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whumpster-dumpster · 1 year ago

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"You should get some rest."

"You need me more than I need rest."

#whump #whump prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #overworking #exhaustion

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lilianaart · 2 months ago

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Me: if you write for twelve hour breaks without stopping to use the bathroom or eat. How many chapters would you finish?

Them: idk, why?

Me: sooo anyways I finished nightshade and Oakleaf my supernatural rangers apprentice au

Them: I thought you had like five chapters left?

Me: (shuffling stacks of papers) actually it was six

Them: you need a life, and to drink water

Me: I KNOW!

Authors note: not an exaggeration. I need to pace myself 😭

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66184807/chapters/170590339

#halt o'carrick #rangers apprentice #will treaty #rangers apprentice story #gilan davidson #horace altman #funny #funny haha #overworking #i need to stop #what is wrong with me #rangers apprentice au #rangers apprentice head canon #ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice fanfic #John Flanagan #fanfic #story #actually good

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asriel-2 · 8 months ago

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Workaholic

Paring: Jenna Ortega x Reader(gender not specified)

Summary: You’ve grown tired of Jenna Ortega overworking and her excuses. She barely had time for you. Cons of dating a celebrity.

Warning: sensitive topics, angst, cursing

Words counted: 380+

“Go the fuck away, Ortega.,” Those were words you never expected to say before to your girlfriend, yet you were saying it today.

You knew there would be consequences for dating an celebrity, but nothing like this.

Jenna was always working. She barely even had time with you. Hell, you can’t even remember when you guys last talked in person!

You were texting her almost everyday when she wasn’t home, which is mostly all the time.

The amount of times you called her and never heard back from her. Voicemail after voicemail, still no response.

And when she actually does notice your notifications of trying to communicate with her, she always sends a dry text saying, “sorry I was busy.” That’s really all she had to say!?

So there you were with your door slightly open denying access to Jenna to come in your house after she got done filming for the day.

Jenna looked surprised when you wouldn’t let her in “What do you mean? Look Y/N, I know you’re angry about me not calling and texting you back all the time but being an actor isn’t so easy, alright?”

“Jenna I’m not just angry. I’m fed up with your bullshit. Of course I know you being famous isn’t that easy, but your problem is that you don’t have anytime for me! I haven’t seen you in person almost a month. How do you think that makes me feel!?,” You said harshly

Jenna Ortega sighed as she spoke, nervously looking away from you, “Babe.. I understand where you’re coming from, but-”

You snicker at her claim “No you don’t. I want you to leave. We’re over.” You said as you cut her off.

Jenna was on the verge of tears, “W-What? Y/N you can’t be serious! I’m sorry okay! We can work something out! Please don’t do this!” Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at you with so kind of hope that you wouldn’t go forward with this.

You hesitated on what you should say before taking a big breath, “Jenna I love you, I really do. But I can’t do this anymore. You brought this shit onto yourself.”

You then shut the door. You could hear violent sobs outside your door and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart ache.

You just couldn’t handle being the only one committed to the relationship.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #ansgt #workaholics #overworking #relationship #dating #breaking up #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #y/n #reader insert

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side-shuffling-hyperfixations · 4 months ago

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TMNT - 110%

Summary: Maybe Leo's definition of "giving his all" wasn't really the good example he wanted to set for his brothers after all.

Leo knew he was being…a little bit of a hypocrite, okay?

If there was one thing he tried to prioritize, it was taking care of himself and his family. He couldn’t take care of his family as well if he didn’t greet each day in the best shape of his life. Who knew when or where some new threat would crop up? He had to keep sharp, be ready. Danger wouldn’t hang back to oblige him if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before and wanted just five more minutes. He tried to get to bed on time, tried to get his brothers to do the same.

Dad had eased up a little with their newfound horizons broadening but the curfew was never explicitly lifted, you know? And as much as Donnie rolled his bloodshot eyes because he thought Leo couldn’t see in the darkness or Raph groaned that he was such a mom, Leo knew they would regret it if they stayed up on their phones till three in the morning and then had to be at school by eight. He knew because he’d be the one trying to drag their sorry butts out of bed and the first thing he’d see when their eyes cracked open was the Cain instinct.

But if there was something else he really, really tried to prioritize, it was giving 110% of himself to whatever he did—striving to succeed, really committing, following through. He had always tried to set that example for the three sets of younger eyes on him, and now there were…so, so many more eyes on them, on him, on mutants at large. Looking for faults. Waiting for a slipup. Constantly staring, scrutinizing, studying.

So much studying.

Next to Donnie, Leo, Raph and Mikey didn’t always get the props they deserved for how smart they could be. Leo couldn’t be prouder of Don for taking such strides, taking the honor classes by storm, but that didn’t mean the others suddenly had the wiggle room to put in less effort, Raph. So when the offer of extra credit came along, how could Leo say no?

He’d always had some trouble with that. Saying no. But that just meant he was a go-getter and once he was committed, he would follow through. He had to.

Leo liked to read but he was more of a one fic at a time kind of guy so he didn’t bounce details around between plots. Mikey could juggle like fifteen different tabs open without losing track; it was a skill that probably would have served all of them well as they jumped from subject to subject. It was hard not to get overwhelmed with all of his books—and the diverging trains of thought tethered to them—scattered across the table.

He had no one to blame but himself for the fact that it was already eight PM. He and April had their thing after school (their thing, their time together and no one else’s! Who would have thought he could be so lucky?) and it was just so easy to lose track of time when he was with her. After prepping tomorrow’s morning announcements, they had technically done some studying together too but Leo had read segments of the work without really absorbing them, too busy sneaking glances and trying to get his stomach to stop flip-flopping at how attentively she was leaning in toward him to listen.

What to tackle first? He had that one test practically first thing in the morning so he could study for that before it got too late, while his mind was freshest, but if the most pressing information got buried beneath everything else he studied afterward he might struggle to dig it back up when it was early and he was tired, and getting off on the wrong foot for the first test would have him feeling off about the others and whenever he got too off balance, he had a terrible tendency to just—blank, freeze, and then what was the point of studying if he hadn’t retained it?

Okay, okay, okay. He was getting into his head; he could already feel his stomach stirring, ready to somersault for entirely different reasons. Deep breath. Just pick one. One step at a time.

One step at a time was nice in theory but slow and steady didn’t win the race against this clock. It felt like he had barely faceplanted into his pillow before his alarm was going off—and he had to be the first one to get up or his brothers would take over the bathroom, he wouldn’t get his morning routine in and it would throw everything off from the get-go.

Test in the morning (with just five minutes of paralysis over Question 18, that was a new record, a step in the right direction). Turn in two papers in the afternoon (he had double and triple checked that he put it in this folder! Why wasn’t it there?! Had he grabbed one of his brothers’ by accident? It was—oh, okay, okay, it was fine, abort, it had gotten stuck to the back of another worksheet). Panic just a little bit when the teacher reminded everyone about that encroaching deadline he had totally spaced while studying everything else, vent about it to April, and…panic just a little bit more (read: a lot more) when she asked about his edit of her upcoming news report. Which he had also totally spaced.

That was what he was supposed to work on when he got home last night, because allegedly he had already done his studying when he was with her. He must have apologized for his oversight a dozen times already but no matter how easily she tried to shrug it off, saying he could just get it to her tomorrow, he could still make out the disappointment diffusing the spark in her dark, beautiful eyes. He had let her down; he hadn’t made her a priority! How could he focus on his reading, how could he focus on anything else with that knowledge kicking him in the ribs?

He’d finish the edit and get it to her as soon as he got home, he promised. He had to make it up to her.

Except it wasn’t as soon as he got home, because Dad and Scumbug wanted everybody together for a family dinner. Did he look as awkwardly cringey when he was making eyes at April as his dad did with his girlfriend? At least Leo tried to be subtle about it. Watching them flirt so openly at the table, with the pressing knowledge that every minute he sat here was one that April (and his homework) had to wait on him, didn’t do much for his appetite. Cramming his food always resulted in cramps but he did what he had to do to get out of there and get to work.

He spent longer than he should have on the edit, polishing up every minute detail. She was the face of the show but for some reason she still liked him enough to make him a part of it. He had to support her to the best of his ability; he had to pull his weight, he had to prove he was worth her time and trust. Between overanalysis, several breaks to the bathroom (dinner really was not agreeing with him) and his brothers butting in to tease him for putting so much work toward his puppy crush, April had probably already gone to bed by the time he sent it. But he did get it done.

Now…homework. He couldn’t divide his attention up as evenly with that deadline looming but anything he didn’t feel confident in by the end of the night, he could brush up on it in homeroom tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when he went to bed. To be honest he had gone out of his way to avoid looking at the clock; he was pretty sure he didn’t want to know.

He got an 84 on yesterday’s test. 84. Really? Still a passing grade, still a B, but that B did not stand for “best”. It wasn’t his best effort; he and his teacher both knew it. It was a new low. He hadn’t gotten anything lower than a B+ since he enrolled and even that was hard to take as much pride in next to Donnie’s slew of A’s. Just two measly points separated him from Raph’s lackadaisical B- average.

Extra credit it was then. He had to buckle down and bump his percentages back up before anyone started asking questions. Commit.

Donnie came out at some point for a glass of water while he was studying that night. Naturally Leo chided that he should be in bed and his brother gave him a sort of squinty, unimpressed look that sniffed of hypocrisy. But Leo was up studying, not mindlessly scrolling. It was different.

(A part of him wanted to ask how Donnie did it, staying up so late and still accomplishing so much during the day. Maybe he was just built different. A very small part of him almost wanted to ask for help with this paper but that would mean letting Donnie in on his situation, and Donnie was a bit of a blabbermouth. If word of his lower grade got to Raph—which it inevitably would, in a sewer this small—Leo would never live it down. Was the teacher’s pet on the verge of crapping the bed? No. No. He could do this.)

The next morning he must have hit snooze on his alarm without even realizing because sure enough, the others got to the bathroom first. Granted, that gave him enough time to chug a couple cups of Dad’s revitalizing morning tea to serve as breakfast and blunt the dull pressure in his brain, but his eyes were still embarrassingly puffy during morning announcements. He could only hope April didn’t notice. Until she did.

“You okay, Leo? You look tired. We can pack it up early today if you—”

“Oh, no, I-I’m good.” He had already set her back enough with the late edit already. “Let’s do this.”

She was great as usual, confident, eloquent. He just wished his footage could do her justice. The boost from his morning tea had worn off by lunch so he had impulsively gotten a soda from the vending machine. He hadn’t even really enjoyed the flavor he got; he just picked whichever one looked like it had enough caffeine to get him through the rest of the day—and it had, but it also made him a little shaky. Reviewing the first snippet, he found his camerawork wasn’t horrible, just…passable.

Passable wasn’t good enough, that was the whole point. Passable camerawork, passable grades. He had to step it up.

“Maybe I just didn’t have the right angle. That’s my bad, April, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it looks okay to me—”

“No, no, let’s just do a retake real quick.”

It didn’t feel “real quick” but he wasn’t going to complain when retaking it was his idea in the first place. He focused. He locked in, holding so tensely still for the next round of filming that he kind of forgot to breathe. By the time they had something he was satisfied with, that pressure headache had crept back in from the peripheral. Looking at the final take, however, April agreed it was a good thing they had reshot it so the extra effort was more than worth it. He had done well.

When he got home, he just needed to pour that same dedication and focus into his big deadline, turn it and his other reports in and then he could relax over the weekend. Right? That deadline was tomorrow, wasn’t it? And tomorrow was Friday?

Technically it was Friday already, he mused with a halfhearted chuckle (why would he chuckle at that? It wasn’t even trying to be a joke) as he dug the heels of his palms into the pressure behind his eyes—very, very early Friday. It had been a little hard to keep up with which day was which this week when he was consistently up to greet them past midnight.

Waaay past midnight, Leo realized, a little distantly startled. Were his bleary eyes reading the clock wrong or were there really only a couple of hours before his alarm was supposed to go off? He hadn’t even gone to bed yet; he was about two-thirds through his last report.

Either he could cram the last of it tomorrow in the period before or…was it even worth going to bed at this point? He was already right here with all of his sources out and if he went to bed now, his brain would just stay stuck on the fact that he hadn’t finished what he’d started.

It occurred to him then that all-nighters weren’t exactly the good example of self-care he should be setting for the others.

But they weren’t out here right now to see and get the wrong idea, and it was just this once. A single all-nighter; he wasn’t making a habit of it. The rest had just been late nighters. It was one more day. One more day and then he could actually get to bed at a reasonable hour and sleep in on Saturday.

Or so he thought, until his second period started roping kids together for a group assignment due in a couple of weeks, and he got stuck with the infamous class clowns who he knew for a fact would spend the whole time stirring up trouble. The teacher had probably hoped by putting him there, he would set a hardworking example for them too, inspire them to put some effort in.

He knew better. When he asked in the group chat how they wanted to allocate the work, one was offline, another left him on read, and the third sent about fifteen completely unrelated memes like this was their Discord. That basically answered his question anyway. Either he sat back and left them out to dry, which would put another dent in his own grade too, or he carried the whole project and presentation for them and only got a fourth of the credit. Great. Might as well get a head start on that, he decided grudgingly—but that could happen on Sunday. He had promised himself Saturday at least for sleeping in. He needed it.

And then Dad sprang a surprise training session on them that morning.

Leo enjoyed training, most days. He enjoyed the family time, friendly ribbing, lighthearted bets over who would hit the mats first, who would stay down the longest. He enjoyed it less when Raph noticed how cranky he was and, instead of doing the smart, loving thing, taking it a little easier on him, giving him space to breathe (as Leo would have, if Raph was in a bad mood) he goaded him. Not overtly, not enough that Dad would call him out on it, but through little sneers and smirks and half-stifled snorts and skeptical raised eyebrows whenever his form trembled or he lagged behind in his sets.

Maybe Dad had picked up on Leo’s mood too because he wisely did not ask them to spar. Good. If he had the chance, Leo might just have yeeted his brother halfway across the lair. (He doubted he could have actually mustered the energy for that but imagining it was spitefully satisfying.)

He went back to bed Saturday afternoon but the nap he took was a fitful one. Mikey was watching Part 34(?) of an apparently riveting horror game Let’s Play; both he and the YouTuber kept gasping and yelping overdramatically at anything that moved. Shouldn’t the jumpscares have lost their nail-biting edge by Part 34?

Leo stifled a groan in his pillow. He had another headache but there was no way he’d be able to sleep it off with the Let’s Player dying over and over again; their character let out this grating, earsplitting scream for every death screen. No doubt he would hear that scream in his dreams.

Maybe he should just start poking at the group project today and then take his breather on Sunday. It wasn’t easy to relax with it just hanging over him. The sooner he broke through the sense of dread and started, the sooner it would be done and over with.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t send an uncharacteristically petty, passive aggressive message to the group chat about it first. The meme guy was just as quick to make him regret it, dunking on him for the typos which totally threw the context of his message off into something crass. When the teasing got to the mortifying point of “You kiss O’Neil with that mouth? 👀”, Leo frantically pitched his phone across the room, wished he hadn’t because he should have blocked that guy before throwing it, project or no project, buried himself as far as he could under the blankets and tried to pretend what followed wasn’t an anxiety attack.

This was fine. He was fine.

~~~~~~~~~

Try as he might to convince himself he was fine—not to convince everyone else because to anyone with at least three brain cells, it was obvious—Leo was being an idiot. No surprise there but Raph hadn’t expected it to go on this long.

Leo was a stress case—also not a surprise—but he usually managed to keep his head on straight enough not to let his life totally spiral out of control. Sure, he might slip up and say something cringey and out of left field, only to realize how bad it sounded hours later and look like he might just turn to dust on the spot. Sure, he might come home smelling as rancid as his vibes because trying to make friends had him sweating like a faucet (Seriously, though, how did it get so bad? He smelled worse than the wrestlers’ locker room, and the wrestlers’ locker room smelled worse than the sewers) but it hadn’t affected his grades or his ninja-ing or his…general Leo-nerd-o-ness like this before.

Beyond keeping them physically safe, Raph wasn’t his brothers’ keeper. He wasn’t like Leo, butting in on the others’ business, wanting updates on every little part of their lives, telling them to get to sleep on time, cajoling them to come to him if they needed anything, getting nosy about their problems with well-meaning but ultimately annoying advice. If anything Raph ought to be glad the last few weeks had kept Leo busy enough with his own thing so he, Don and Mike had some room to breathe.

But whatever his own thing was, it wasn’t looking so good from where Raph stood, and neither was Leo. The bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teacher’s pet would usually be running from one class to the next like a chicken with its head only half cut off—organized chaos. Now he was slogging through it all like some kind of swamp zombie, dead-eyed, shaking and shambling, just trying to make it from one checkpoint to the next on the map.

Most nights, whenever Raph happened to roll over and crack an eye open, the light was still on in the kitchen. It annoyed him a little bit more every time. Some people were trying to sleep around here, even if Leo wasn’t. The first week or so he had at least tried to keep it quiet when he eventually made his way into the bedroom but now he was just bulldozing his way through, uncaring or apparently not noticing how many things he kicked or clattered around before faceplanting into his bed—if he made it there at all.

Donnie had often been chided or teased for falling asleep in inopportune places or positions after a late night or two so when he’d found their oh-so-responsible curfew king drooling into his textbooks one morning, of course he seized the opportunity to rag on him about it. He had expected Leo to get all sheepish and flustered and flounder for an excuse. Imagine his surprise when out of nowhere Leo straight up flipped his lid and nearly flipped the table with it. He didn’t actually follow through on the latter, his temper wasn’t as destructive as Raph’s, but apparently today his bark was just as bad as his bite. Definitely sharp enough to wake everybody else up before their alarms.

Dad couldn’t mediate the fight as efficiently when they were on a time crunch to get to school so Don and Leo had spent the day avoiding each other, which was super awkward at lunch. Raph and Mikey tried to act natural as always, hoping the others would catch on and play along, but when Leo slunk off to the vending machine for a soda to replace the one he had just finished, he didn’t come back. (Wasn’t he the one who always backed Dad up when he talked about how bad caffeine could be for them?)

Once they got home, Donnie tensed as if expecting the tirade to start back up where it had left off. Instead Leo heaved his backpack off like a bag of bricks, pulled him into a hug and got all weirdly weepy about it, like he never wanted to let go. Honestly it made his apologies even more uncomfortable than his freakout.

When Dad chimed in to say it was likely the effect of “raging hormones”, everybody decided the incident was best left in the past as soon as possible. Leo, as expected, was back to his seemingly endless homework in a hurry, though who knew how much he was actually absorbing when his attention kept flicking back to Donnie every ten seconds—probably spiraling about whether or not his apology was actually good enough, whether or not he was actually forgiven, how he could possibly make it up to him, how he could do better in the future, blah, blah, blah.

Raph might have felt sorry for him, being tortured at the hands of his anxiety brain, if he hadn’t known this blowout was totally preventable. He had tried to coax Leo to let it out a couple of weeks ago, during Dad’s spur-of-the-moment weekend training. Even back then Raph could sense some kind of pressure was building, the crankiness before the storm. What else could he do to get a better feel for it but try to provoke it to the surface? If Dad had let them spar back then, Leo might have actually cut loose and Raph could have taken it. Who else could? But since then he had started getting sloppy in training too.

Look at that. Leonardo and sloppy in the same sentence, in regards to training. Raph never thought he would see the day. When they got to spar this weekend, Leo might as well have just flopped down on the mats from the get-go like a test dummy and let them sit on him. It wasn’t nearly as fun to beat him when he wasn’t in top form.

Raph still gloated and gave him a hard time about it, of course, because that was his job. Iron sharpened iron, Dad once said. Leo would fan his flame into a blaze and then he would plunge that searing hot iron into Leo’s calm waters to make him steam. By keeping it competitive, they worked against each other together to make them both better. When he jabbed at him this time, however, Leo got this look on his face like the iron had just gone straight through him. He didn’t steam, he just sank.

It was…kind of sad.

Splinter must have thought so too, considering he kept Leo after their workout for a talk, just like a teacher keeping him after class. (That had been happening more often too, come to think of it—as in the fact that it was happening at all, and he always seemed to come out of it with extra extra credit work to do.) Dad had gone out of his way to drive the other boys off so they wouldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation, so naturally they discussed it amongst themselves in their room instead.

“You know how he was doing those practice question sheets at lunch the other day? He still only got an 81 on that algebra test,” Mikey reported. “I only saw cause he almost put it in my folder when we got home. Not sure how the guy mistook orange for blue but…”

“I’m surprised he can still see color with those rings under his eyes. I think he’s double-mutating into a raccoon.”

“I’d totally help him study if he just like, asked,” Donnie sighed. “The other night I offered to stay up with him to review his notes for geography but I don’t think he even heard me.”

“It’s not geography that’s got him this out of whack; it’s the stupid group project,” Raph huffed. He had gotten lucky with his assigned group mates; they were smart enough to know he wouldn’t take it lying down if they tried to heap more than a fair share of the work on him and they cared enough about their grades that they wouldn’t try it in the first place. The other side of the room, however…

For so many years school was something they could only dream of. They were the unofficial face of mutant kind so despite how drastic and overwhelming and stressful the change had felt at times, despite it being not nearly as fun as they had imagined, Raph tried to be on his best behavior. On that much, he and his brothers were all on the same page. He kept it cool and chill and friendly. He didn’t pick fights (as often) but Leo’s so-called teammates had set Raph’s teeth on edge from day one.

When they weren’t disrupting the entire class, they harassed the students in their orbit in underhanded ways they thought no one would notice. Raph only perceived it because he had pulled similar tricks to pick on Mikey without Dad’s notice. Now that he was an outside observer of such things, those weren’t his proudest moments in hindsight, but Mikey was his little brother. He knew Raph loved him more than he could ever love picking on him; he knew he didn’t mean any true harm. These guys had no such qualms.

Most of Leo’s current spiral probably could have been avoided if he would stop being stupid enough to pull back-to-back all-nighters but those jokers weren’t making it any easier to stop. This assignment had turned Leo into the reluctant ringleader trying to herd a circus of feral cats. They walked all over him with Cheshire grins and claws out, leaving him holding the bag of blood, sweat and tears.

Bullies who slid under the radar by making themselves out to be little more than class clowns? It wasn’t fair. But unless they got ballsy enough to pull a real stunt on any of his brothers within Raph’s jurisdiction (and potential punching range), something infuriating enough to actually merit breaking his streak of good behavior, it was out of his hands.

“Well, tomorrow’s presentation day, right? Once that’s done he might loosen up a little,” Mikey offered with an optimism Raph and Donnie didn’t share. Raph knew from watching Don and Don knew from experiencing it that it was way too easy to go down the slide of night owl crunch time; it was a lot harder to pick yourself back up, especially with new assignments coming in every single day. Their first summer break had never felt further away.

Maybe that was what Leo was dreaming about the next day in class, considering he really didn’t want to wake up from it. Kind of rude that he’d held out until it was Raph’s group stepping up to give their presentation but on the other hand, the subject they had agreed on wasn’t Raph’s first pick. If he was trying not to sound bored talking about it, he couldn’t blame his brother for being bored to sleep hearing it.

Good to actually see him getting any sleep. He hadn’t come to bed last night. How Leo was going to hold it together for his own group’s speech, Raph didn’t know, but for that he would have to wake up first. He tried not to wince on Leo’s behalf when the teacher called his name, what, three times? But he didn’t lurch back into the world until one of his group mates jabbed him in the soft spot between his plastron and carapace with a well-concealed pencil between his fingers. He didn’t use the eraser end. Strike one.

Raph’s hand tightened on his own pencil of its own volition, an intrusive thought painting him a picture of what he could do if he flung it with a ninja’s precision, but he did the smarter thing, took a deep breath, and offered a lopsided smile of support. Leo didn’t glance at him to notice, too busy scrambling toward the front with his papers. One of the others “accidentally” gave the back of his shoe a flat tire on the way up there, forcing him to do an awkward little skip and a hop that made a couple of the girls giggle. Strike one and a half.

“Life in the mid—um, in the middle of t-the early—” Geez, he was stuttering worse than Donnie. He hadn’t sounded this bad in the morning announcements. Had he chugged another soda since then? Shaking fingers creasing his outline as he tightened his grip, he squeezed his eyes shut to recenter. “This…presentation is meant to give you an—some insight into life in the early Middle Ages. I—we’ve established a timeline between some of the most significant events and h-how they would have affected members of, uh…each of the…”

What was it people always said? That everything seemed to go wrong in slow motion? To Raph it was like a blink. As Leo spun toward the PowerPoint screen, he swayed back. One of his group mates idly shoulder-checked him, just hard enough under the guise of “helping” him find his balance (strike two) and that last little push was enough to topple him like a tower of Jenga blocks.

It was one of Leo’s many worst case scenarios—publicly embarrassing himself, causing a scene, making a bunch of people worry and fuss.

Until he registered the dull, numb thud of Leo’s body in his ears, Raph hadn’t remembered it was one of his worst case scenarios too. One of his brothers falling and not getting back up, while Raph struggled to get to him through humans standing in his way.

In this case those people were a bunch of gasping and gawking students, not real threats, but by the time he shoved and scrambled past them to Leo’s side, the Three Stooges standing over him were already in action. One was filming it on his phone, unfazed, unfeeling. The second was crouched down, clicking his fingers somewhere near Leo’s ashen face, whistling as if to wake up a dog.

“Yo, you good?” the third called with a derisive laugh laced through his voice, prodding his foot against the back of Leo’s head with more and more force each time, letting it roll off the toe of his shoe and thunk against the floor like that would bring him around, and Raph…

Raph saw red. Raph saw the butt of a gun cracked against Leo’s skull to send him sprawling out cold. Raph saw someone literally kicking him while he was already down and now—

Three strikes, you’re out. He barreled into the leg attached to that foot and got him on the ground with one heave.

It never did unravel into slow motion like they always said; the rest only became a blur from there until he was sitting with Leo and that stupid stooge in the nurse’s office. They were wise to put him in his pile of ice packs on the other side of the room, where they’d have ample warning before Raph could make strides to get his hands on him.

Of course he wouldn’t try anything now. He knew the teachers were showing mercy, letting him sit with his brother until they got in touch with Dad. Or maybe they were just killing two birds with one stone, letting Dad think he was just coming to pick up his sick son, only to yank him and Raph into the principal’s office for a talk before they could escape.

Still. Raph had already made his point; he wasn’t about to waste his time on another round with that punk when Leo was just coming to again.

“…Hh—Huh? Wha’ time is it?” he slurred, flinging a hand out in search of his phone. The nurse had dimmed the lights to let him rest. Was he honestly so out of it, he habitually assumed it was morning in the lair and he had to turn off an alarm?

It wasn’t the kind thing to do but on a frustrated impulse, Raph smacked his hand and made him jump. Then he took it back, squeezing his brother’s fingers with enough force to make him groggily wince, just a little.

“Time for you to stop,” he muttered, terse and…yes, tired.

It took Leo a few minutes to pry his eyes fully open, gauge where he was and what must have happened. Raph could pinpoint the exact second that last realization hit by the gross sweat that broke out on Leo’s palm and the shudder of panic and shame that swept through him.

“The presentation—“ he choked out. “M-My grade—”

“—isn’t gonna mean jack squat if you drop dead before graduation, idiot.” An exaggeration, perhaps, but Raph was not in the mood to see his body hit the ground again anytime soon.

“I…I-I know.” Leo heaved a tremulous sigh, swollen eyes fluttering closed again. “I know.”

Raph tried to tell himself he wasn’t his brothers’ keeper, beyond keeping them physically safe, but he hadn’t been paying enough attention, too wrapped up in his own stuff along the way to get the jump on this and do it right. This incident just meant he had to do better. Focus up, buckle down, be ready to keep them physically safe from themselves sometimes too.

Commit.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #mutant mayhem #fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #antagonist characters #whump #overworking #bullying #but on the sly #protectiveness #light angst #brotherly love #r&b bros #sword and shield duo

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