The rooftop was quiet—just the dull hum of the city below, broken only by the whisper of Leo’s footsteps as he landed beside them. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, tall and still in the moonlight, arms crossed tight over his plastron like he was holding himself together.

Then he moved. Slow and deliberate, his face unreadable until he was close enough to touch.

"...You okay?"

His voice was quieter than usual. Not sharp. Not commanding.

"...He didn’t mean it."

There was a flicker in his eyes—something like regret. Like guilt he hadn’t earned, but wore anyway, heavy as his swords.

"I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve stopped him before he said anything."

He stepped forward again, and suddenly his arms were around them, strong and sure and grounding. The kind of hug that said everything he couldn’t—pressed close, chin resting against the top of their head.

"I know he hurt you. And I know you’re probably sick of us dragging our crap into your day."

His breath hitched, just once.

"But you being here... it’s the only thing that makes this place feel like home."

He didn’t let go.

"You calm him down. You calm me down. Even when we don’t deserve it."

There was a long pause. His grip only tightened.

"I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough. But if he ever makes you cry again, he’s gonna find out real quick I don’t always fight fair."

There was a soft chuckle—barely there.

"...Don’t tell Splinter I said that."

Then, quieter still, like a confession:

"...Stay with me a little longer. Just like this."