A/N I do not own TMNT, but am forever grateful for their existence.
The Robin
He could see its still form every time he closed his eyes – a blinding image of life flickering into death. It had been an accident. Completely unintentional. Yet he felt his chest ache with a leaden heaviness that he knew came from what he had done. He didn't know it had been there. If he had – God knows he wouldn't be here now: kneeling over the tiny delicate bundle of feathers desperately hoping that one hesitant twitch of its wing had not been its last.
It didn't matter; he knew it was dead. Feeling the dislocation within its fragile neck had only confirmed what he already knew to be true. Accident or not, it was dead and he was responsible.
He didn't even know why he was getting all mushy over it. Nobody would miss one less robin in the world. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't killed before. How many Foot, Kraang, and others had fallen victim to his hand over the years? Heck, he had helped April kill a chicken last week – even plucked the thing himself. It was nothing new to him. And yet, somehow, he couldn't help but stare transfixed at the now motionless red breast.
Yes, Raphael had killed before. It was what he had been trained to do and he did it well. But this kill had not been intentional. This had been an accident…
But, it was the bird's own stupid fault! Of all the stupid places in the stupid forest it had to roost by the stupid wood pile. It was just plain stupid and in his opinion, the stupid bird had deserved it. After all, if the bird wanted to nest where it could easily get clobbered by a falling log, it was not his problem. Apparently, his nauseous gut felt otherwise on the matter. Stupid survival of the stupid fittest.
Raphael angrily rubbed his rough calloused hands over his eyes, hating how they suddenly were stinging with the threat of tears. He was too old and too seasoned a warrior to be crying over some dead robin. If anything, he should be crying over his comatose brother still stuck in the bathtub.
Suddenly, Raphael was furious at the tiny robin before him. How dare some… some bird take away precious time and energy that could be used to either help Leonardo awaken or to come up with a way to beat the Shredder and the Kraang to a pulp when they finally returned to the city.
Stupid Shredder. Stupid Kraang. Stupid Leonardo.
Stupid bird!
…
Stupid him…
…
Stupid. Stupid! STUPID!
Why did life have to be so stinking complicated and fragile at the same time? Whose bright idea was that? Why would anyone put so much effort into creating something that could be taken away so quickly? The universe had a sick sense of humour.
Why did things have to turn out this way? Where did he go wrong? Why couldn't the bird have nested somewhere else? Why the hell did the bird's neck have to be broken?
WHY!? Why!? Why…?
The heels of his palms could no longer stem the flow, as tears continually leaked from his eyes. Raphael wasn't in control. He couldn't fix this. He couldn't do it without his brother. He couldn't do it without his father. He was useless and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't bring the bird back and he couldn't bring Leonardo back.
What was he doing there anyway? In the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere crying over a dead robin – what was wrong with him?
He was supposed to be getting wood for the fire, not having a sob fest for a bird no one would miss. He wouldn't miss it. He hadn't even known it until seconds before its death.
There is no way he could miss the stupid bird, but did remembering it in the middle of the night count for nothing? Did churning over the events of the entire invasion mean nothing? Was everything they had ever tried to do all for nothing?
Did anyone even miss them?
If they died right now, would anyone remember them? Or would he be like the robin?
Fated to anonymity because some stupid giant green turtle crushed her with a log.
Did it even matter that Raphael would remember that robin even though he never knew her? It had to mean something! Didn't it?
…
Leonardo wasn't injured for nothing. Wasn't he?
He placed the broken bird on the ground. He could do nothing for her now. All he could do was watch over his brother and wait. Watch and wait. Wait and watch. That was all he was good for, and no one would remember him for it just as no one would remember Leonardo after they were gone.
Raphael abruptly stood and turned tail, practically sprinting to the farmhouse. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't want any of them to be alone. He tried not to think of those lonely glassy eyes staring aimlessly up at the clear blue sky.
