Beauty from Pain, a ninja turtles fanfic

A/N: Yes, I am fully aware that FanFiction frowns upon songfics, but please read it anyway. I think you will like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles or the lyrics of "Beauty From Pain" by Superchic(k)

Leonardo pressed his forehead up against the cold stone. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. Without thinking, he let his finger trace along the delicate etching on the flat surface. The deep scrapes flowed together, forming words that he could not, would not, recognize or accept even though he knew that they were true.

The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I'm alive
But I feel like I died.

Almost two years had passed since he had lost Splinter. The ancient rat had become just that: ancient. For several months he had prepared his sons for his passing. The event was sad, but all of the turtles knew that it had to happen. No one lives forever in this world. It was what happened the next year that struck the blow at Leonardo's heart. Raphael and Donatello had gone to visit the newly-wed Casey and April Jones, They never reached their destination. Leonardo and Michelangelo had received Donatello's frantic call for help, but they arrived too late. The brothers were lying, battered and broken, in a pool of blood. There was not a single sign of who had done this terrible deed. Raphael was already dead and Donatello died in Leonardo's arms a few moments after being found. Neither surviving turtle had expected anything like this – they could never have imagined it. Hearing the faint gasps as his brother slipped away, out of his grasp, broke Leonardo's heart.

And all that's left is to accept that it's over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder
I feel like I'm slipping away.

Leonardo shivered as a cool, September breeze flew by him, rustling the leaves that guarded this far end of Central Park. His father, his brothers…they were all buried in the ground save for him and Michelangelo. There had been many times that the eldest turtle had wanted to kill himself and at last leave behind all the heartache this world had given him only to stop, remembering that he still had one last brother to care for. Nothing else could have kept him alive.

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I've cried my last
There'll be beauty from pain
Though it won't be today,
Someday I'll hope again
And there'll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain.

Michelangelo had taken his brother's deaths just as hard as Leonardo. There was nothing he missed more than the good-natured teasing between him and Raphael or the almost never-ending tinkering sounds that used to drift from Donatello's lab space. A year after their deaths, he was still grieving for them. The pain in his chest throbbed like a smoldering coal; but his anguish paled in comparison to his brother's. The orange-clad turtle had finally come to accept that there was nothing that they could have done, no way for his two brothers to have been somehow protected or brought back. If anything, he and Leonardo would have been killed as well. Now his main purpose was to see that the last two mutant turtles to walk the earth would continue to live.

My whole world is the pain inside me
The best I can do is just get through the day
When life before is only a memory
I wonder why God lets me walk through this place.

Leonardo slowly wiped the streams of salt water flowing from the corners of his eyes. He had tried to be strong for Michelangelo, but there was only so much that he could do when every waking moment was filled with a burning sorrow and his every dream was a nightmare about his brother's death. He had seen the fear and sadness in his brother's eyes but had not been able to comfort him. For almost a month afterwards, they had both moved around in a complete daze. Every motion was automatic as they moved around the lair. If he had had a choice, Leonardo would have fled that place, never to return to it; it held too many memories for him. However, Michelangelo clung to the place like a child clinging to a security blanket and Leonardo was determined to do whatever it took to comfort his brother.

And though I can't understand why this happened
I know that I will when I look back someday
And see how you've brought beauty from ashes
And made me as gold purified through these flames.

Again Leonardo shivered. He didn't feel cold, but then again he might have been. Sometimes he forgot how to feel the things that once gave him a rush of pleasure. His shoulders sagged forwards as he tenderly brushed a fallen leaf off of Raphael's tombstone. A faint rustling shook the bushes as Michelangelo joined his brother at the gravesite. A feeling of warmth lit upon Leonardo's shoulders as his brother draped a blanket over his back. He yielded to Michelangelo's gentle clutch, pulling him away from the stones.

Again inside the lair, Leonardo tried to block the memories of that horrible night as they once again came rushing to him. Michelangelo deposited his brother in his favorite armchair and disappeared into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder something about nachos. Leonardo smiled fondly after him. The sword-wielding turtle sometimes had his mind so wrapped around the dead that he forgot to appreciate the living. It was a strange balancing act, trying to stay somewhere between the two worlds. He thought a moment about the edges of his twin katana. How simple it would be to slice through his own heart with a real blade instead of the invisible sword of grief that was pressing into him. He shook his head, trying to clear out the darkness. Though such thoughts were becoming less frequent, when they struck him they were as strong as the day when his brothers had died.

Here I am at the end of me
Trying to hold to what I can't see.
I forget how to hope
This night's been so long
I cling to your promise there will be a dawn…

Michelangelo came bouncing out of the kitchen with a grin on his face. He was carrying two plates heaped with corn chips that were smothered in cheddar cheese. A faint smile flitted across his face as his brother pressed a hot plate into his hands. Michelangelo was the only one who made him want to live. Leonardo suddenly realized with a shock that he no longer wished to die, but to live—if only for the sake of his youngest, and now only, brother. He thought again of his katana and realized that the quick death no longer had meaning for him. He simply could not kill himself. There was still too much life left, spread out before him like a glorious sunrise. There was so much he had to live for, the first of which was seated on a beat-up lawn-chair while flipping channels with a now-cheesy remote. Leonardo leaned back in the chair while taking a bite of the gooey-crunchiness. He was beginning to see hope on the coming horizon. It was faint and far away, but there was hope: hope that he could continue on.

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