Over and over again I tried,I triedto make the ache in my chest that I felt for so very long subside...it never did die down. Till this very day, it lingers in my body like a poison that would never let me forgive myself, I shouldn't have the right to forgive myself. I keep on saying that I should have been there when it happened, but I wasn't and I regret it every day of my life. Two years ago, something that would tear our family apart limb by limb happened...my brother, Michalangelo,had died.

My hands worked numbly with the wires of the toaster I was fixing, trying to keep myself occupied so I wouldn't remember the day everything went to hell. Two years. Had it already been that long? No. I don't even want to think about it. I went back to working with the multi colored wires, my hands trembling a bit, but I shook it off. I bit my lip, focusing as hard as I could on nothing but what I was currently working on. Concentrate. You can do this, just don't let your mind wonder... Memories of a broken body rested in Leonardo's arms as he walked into the lairs entrance. Raphael followed behind, looking like he did not know how to respond. Soon followed by Splinter, the two brothers placed the limp body onto the sofa. The noise emitting from outside my door distracted me from my work. I insisted that I stay back at the lair working on a random piece of technology while my brothers went out on patrol. What a mistake that was...what a terrible mistake. I opened my door, looking out into the hallway wanting to tell them to keep it down. I...I thought I was going to be sick. He had looked like he had taken a trip to hell and back again. I could've helped him, could've kept him alive,but no. Instead I sat in my room all night as Shredder killed my brother...my baby brother.

When I came back to reality, I noticed that my body quivered with the grim memories brought back once again. What kind of brother am I, to just let this happen?

"You know, it's not your fault."

"I don't know what your talking about, Leo."

A firm hand was placed on my shoulder, most likely for comfort, but it wouldn't help. I didn't meet his eyes, he would figure out I was crying sooner of later, but I'm not about it to show him now. I felt his warm gaze on me, but I wouldn't look at it, I couldn't.

"Don, you know what I'm talking about. It wasn't you fault that-"

"That what, Leo?! That I wasn't there to help protect my little brother when he was being torn apart by are most hated enemy?! I could've helped... I could've saved his life, Leo. But..But I didn't. I...I just sat here while you guys fought and..."

"Don. We all had the chance of saving his life, but we couldn't. We just couldn't. So...so just stop blaming yourself! You don't think we feel bad too?!"

"But Leo, if...if I was actually there, if I had fought, I atleast would've felt like I was trying. Because each and everyday, I feel as though I m-murdered my little brother."

Leo tried to find words to reply with, but could find none. He just stared at the wall in front of him, feeling as though if he did look at him, his brother would shatter into several pieces. For a moment, his heart ached like Donatello's had for the past two years and felt what he had felt, and it made him sick.

"Donatello,my son."

This time, Don felt compelled to look up at who was speaking to him. His father's warm hand was gently placed on his other shoulder, with Leonardo still grasping his left one. The old rat's eyes held compassion towards his son, with moister clinging to the fur around them.

"My dear Donatello. We cannot change fate. Fate can only change us." Splinter cupped his son's chin, wiping away both his and his own tears.

"What had happened on that day was something I would never imagine happening to any of my sons...not this young. But, we cannot fix what has already happened. We cannot blame ourselves for what someone as monstrous as Oroku Saki had done, for we do not control those kind of people, nor convince them to taking a lighter path. It is simply not in their nature. My son, please, do not blame yourself of what had happened just simply because you had not been there to defend your brother."

Donatello sat up and embraced his father. He finally felt that ache, the ache that sat in his chest for much too long melt away.

"Father..."

"Yes, my son?"

"Thank you."