Silence: The silence of the lair is slowly killing him as he waits for sons who will never come home. Death fic, Splinter centric.
The silence of the lair had always bothered him, sure, he liked the silence for meditation, but when his sons weren't home and he couldn't be comforted by the sounds of life that always came with his sons being home.
He can hear the clicking of his toenails against the floor as he paces, trying to tell himself that everything will be fine, that they will return shortly as they always have, and always will. Still, his heart is heavy and he can feel that something is wrong, so he paces as he waits.
Minutes tick by into hours, and still he waits, hoping as he walks past their rooms. It's on what seems to be the millionth time past Donatello's room that he first sees it, a ghostly outline. His heart skips a beat as he turns the other way, trying to convince himself that it's all a figment of his overworked mind.
"Father?" he hears the ghost speak, and his heart drops into his stomach. He doesn't even need to look to know that the owner of that voice is his wonderful Leonardo. It's not long after that Raphael and Michelangelo follow. He doesn't need April to tell him that his sons are dead, because he can see their confused spirits still lingering, clinging to what was their life. The silence closes in on him as he weeps for his children and vows to hunt down their murderer.
End