I always wanted to tell you Brother…I'm sorry
((This is based off of a true story. Something I'm currently going through. This may be a one-chapter deal. It may be two. But…my uncle has inspired me. I love you Uncle Mike and I'm sorry.))
I sat there at his bedside and watched him breath…watched the machine help him breath. I felt so helpless, so useless. You never know what to do or think in situations like this. I felt so…out of touch. I thought back to all those child hood memories that we shared and miss every one of those moments. I don't think I ever cherished them enough. Especially now…Sighing, I wiped away a bead of sweat from my brow, and slowly sat back in the chair. He had been this way for most the evening. It all had happened so quickly. The loud crash from the kitchen, the frantic confusion being bounced back and forth between the three of us. It was all such a blur, and now it's all so clear, so real, and so scary. He'd had a heart attack…and we all knew why. His drinking had gotten steadily heavier over the years, and I'm sure along with the drug usage. We always tried to talk to him…I always tried to talk to him. But none of us could ever get through. Especially me. He's never cared for me much. Always thought I was a bother more than anything. But I loved him. He's my brother. But I never told him that. I never told him what he meant to me. I leaned forward and buried my face in my sweaty calloused hands. Why…why now? Sitting here was only making me feel worse. But I refused to leave his side. I refused to not be there for him. I felt as if I owed him that. Because I felt that I hadn't been there enough for him. Maybe if I had been there in the beginning. Maybe if we had had more in common. Maybe if we hadn't grown up so fast. It was all such a waste of precious time. Time that he seemed to be losing ownership of. I looked over at Raph and almost lost it there. My bottom lip began to quiver in the slow loss of self-control. And my eyes began to fill up with hot, salty tears of anger, of anguish, of fear. It just didn't seem right. I felt a few of those tears drop on my hand, my fingers. I never told him that I loved him. I never thanked him for all those times he saved my ass. I never…I shook my head and looked away from him, from the machine keeping him alive. Don had said we'd know in a day or two if he'd wake up or not. To see if he'd suffered any brain damage. And…if he doesn't wake up in the next couple of days…we'd have to make the decision on whether or not we should pull the plug. I couldn't think of that right now. I needed some air. I needed some time to clear my head. But I was so afraid that…I was so afraid that if I left, he'd be gone by the time I'd come back. I was afraid of being selfish in his time of need. I glanced around the room, or the mess he called his room and my eye caught something, a notebook with a pen on top. I stood up and slowly walked over to the messy and very unorganized looking desk, picking up the notebook and pen. I opened it up and flipped through some pages. Mainly it was just sketches of designs he came up with. Some of which were very good. I made my way back to the chair and sat down, turning to a fresh sheet, pen ready to write with, and found myself at a loss for words. What do you say to someone you love dearly but are too prideful to admit it? I turned and looked at him. Studied him, my brother. And then found the words I had always burned to tell him. Even now…
I always wanted to tell you brother, that I love you. I'm sorry I never did. I'm sorry I never took the time to pull you aside and tell you how much you mean to me. I'm sorry I never cherished all those moments we had together. I always wanted to tell you brother, that I thank you for every pat on the back, every hug, every smirk, every smile, every wink, every snide and obnoxious comment, and every hand up you gave me in the years we've shared together. I'm sorry I never got the chance to tell you this. I always wanted to tell you brother, that I was thankful for every time you helped me in battle, sticking back to back and fighting for each other's lives. I'm sorry I never took the time to tell you this after every battle that was fought. You will always be my brother, not matter what you've done in your life. I still love you no matter what. I'm sorry I never took the time to tell you that you're only human, and yes I know we're mutants but we have human souls, and that human's make mistakes. I always wanted to tell you Raphael, that you're the greatest brother and that you mean the world to me. I always wanted to tell you Raphael…I'm sorry.
I set the pen down, read over what I had just written, then set the notebook down on his bed, leaving it open to the page I had written on. Then I settled back in my chair, and watched my brother, hoping that he'd wake up, or find peace during the night. I knew I wouldn't have the heart to end it for him, at least not yet. I felt those hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks and onto my lips. I tasted the salt, the guilt, and the remorse. I tasted the sadness. And I tasted the love. Every tear that fell from my eyes, and onto those bed sheets carried a tiny piece of my heart and my hope for my brother.
I don't own the Ninja Turtles. But I own every bit of feeling I've put into this. I own all the guilt and all the apologies.