A/N yep, you guessed it... don't own the turtles...
I just wrote this now, after a good hour and a half staring at the stars... (I'm such a loser...) and, well, I hope ya enjoy it. I don't think it's really sad, or anything... in fact, really, I don't think it's anything, at all, if ya kinda dig what I mean. Enjoy- and please review!
No Regrets
Face upturned to the almost starless sky, he smiled. It's not a sin to be glad you're alive. And he was glad, and he was sorry.
He wanted to cry, or laugh, but neither seemed appropriate, so he merely stood, feeling the cramp growing in his neck. He felt nothing, hollow, inside. But maybe- maybe that was just his mind telling him he felt nothing-
Because he had this strange, light, and heavy, feeling in his chest- his heart, still beating, telling him he felt too much.
He breathed deep, feeling he warm-cold air fill his lungs, feed his body. Because he was alive. He was still here.
And he would hurt, and it would be hard. But he would stay alive, stay try to himself- for them.
He swore, looking up into the starless sky- he swore, that he would live for all he had lost.
That would make for a hell of a lot of living, but he could do it. He smiled, hot and cold emotions rushing through him, leaving the impression of detachment from himself, from everything.
Like nothing was real. Like- here, now- then- was all... just... illusion.
It was hard not to dwell on the pain, but he couldn't really feel it- not yet, anyway... so it was easier to ignore the bad- and the good, and just remain, making his promise, breathing, living.
Crying would just... cheapen the moment, emotion merely spoil it.
He felt too much-
-too little-
To merit any sign of emotion, any sign of joy or sadness.
He had no regrets, he had stood with his brothers, he had fought with his brothers, and they had been strong.
There was no way to describe... the feelings- the things, deep inside. Except- maybe... change.
Yes, Change- change was a suitable explanation.
There was change, there was pain, there was joy, there was grief, there was love, there was death- there was life.
But there were no regrets.
His eyes, still drawn to the sky... he imagined them there- as eternal as the stars he could no longer see.
But just because he couldn't see them... didn't mean they were gone.
And that would be enough for him. It had to be. Because that was all he had now.
His promise.
His love.
His memories, and...
His life.
He still had his life, and he had to make use of it.
He turned from the battlefield.
No regrets, bros, I know you'd hate that. And no tears goodbye, either, because I know you'd hate to see me cry.
And- well, it felt so damned strange, to walk away- alone.