Disclaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: This story was written in 2009 on scraps of notebook paper. It was my way of processing and reflecting upon a very tragic event in my life. I recently rediscovered it in a box under my bed. If you find any inaccuracies about the information presented, please let me know. My research is solely based on Internet findings and personal knowledge of the subject.
Warning: Contains character death
Heart
"We have been waiting for ten minutes," Master Splinter murmured.
His three present sons shifted uncomfortably, wondering at their missing brother's absence.
"We will delay practice no longer. Michelangelo, please fetch your brother from his room," Splinter requested.
"Sure thing, sensei," he replied. Jumping up from the ground, Mikey merrily made his way to Raphael's room. Michelangelo rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "This is gonna be so good!"
"That's what Raph gets for playing vigilante all night long," Leonardo muttered, back in the dojo. He sat poised in the lotus position to begin mediation.
Donatello nodded absently with his eyes closed, knowing he was just as guilty for keeping odd hours in his lab. Both turtles refocused at the clearing of their master's throat.
Frowning, Splinter sought relief from his turbulent thoughts. A sense of foreboding plagued him all through the night. No sleep had been found, but calm could be attained through careful meditation.
Humming to himself, Mikey lightly knocked on the closed door. "Oh, Raphie! You got some explainin' to do!"
No response was forthcoming.
"Raph! Wake up!" Michelangelo pounded on the door. "C'mon, dude."
Still receiving no response, Mikey figured Raph must be ignoring him. Gently pushing open the door, Michelangelo peeked inside. The drafts in the room caused his brother's hammock to slightly sway, but Raphael lay unnervingly still. Mikey felt his ninja senses on high alert.
Something didn't feel right.
Forcing the away the ominous feeling threatening to take hold, Mike threw open the door all the way. In a sing-song voice, he trilled, "Time to rise and shine, Raphie-boy! "
Not one muscle twitched.
Undeterred, Michelangelo stepped forward to poke and prod his older brother into action. "Seriously, Raph, everyone is waiting —"
Mikey gasped, rapidly withdrawing his hand. His brother had felt cold. But it was only natural, right? They were cold-blooded reptiles. Tentatively, he placed a firmer grip on his brother's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. A rush of anxiety and unspoken fright gripped him at the cold stiffness of Raphael's dark green skin.
"What's taking them so long?" Leo questioned, casually examining the edge of a katana blade. Finished with meditation, they were moving on to warm-ups.
"Maybe Mikey got sidetracked?" Don guessed. "Let's just start without them. They'll be here in a few minutes anyway —"
"Donnie!"
Alarmed at the tone of his little's brother's yell, Donatello leapt to his feet. He ran past Leonardo and Splinter, ignoring their surprised expressions. He spotted Michelangelo wobbling, unsteady on his feet as he leaned against Raph's entryway frame for support.
"What's wrong, Mikey?" he questioned breathlessly.
Michelangelo shook his head in a futile attempt to shake off the tremors running through his body. "I think, uh — oh god, Donnie — I think Raph is —"
Cursing, Don shouldered past him into Raphael's room taking in the stillness of his hot-tempered brother. With only a second's hesitation, he reached out to feel for a pulse at his neck. The cold smooth skin shocked him, but he felt nothing. Frantic, he reached for Raph's wrist, examined his chest, and placed his head close to a motionless beak — looking, listening, and feeling for any signs of life.
Subconsciously, he heard the rest of his family arrive and share rushed whispers behind him.
"What's wrong with him, Don?" Leonardo asked carefully.
Hot tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Donatello turned to face him. "He's gone, Leo."
"What?" he said in disbelief. "What do you mean 'gone'?"
"He's dead. What else do you want me to say?" Donnie whispered, looking down at the floor to avoid the shocked stares of his brothers and sensei.
Eyes widening, Leonardo panicked. "That can't be right. Can't you do something, Don? CPR? A shock? Anything!"
Sadly shaking his head, Donatello felt his throat constrict. "Judging from the stiffness and temperature of his body, he's been dead for a while. Rigor mortis sets in on the muscles between two to four hours after death. There's nothing I can do."
"No. I don't believe that!" Leo shouted, throwing himself to Raph's side.
Michelangelo barely caught Master Splinter as his old knees buckled.
"Dead?" Splinter softly repeated, as if just processing the situation.
Don found himself in the tight grip of their leader — a fierce expression on his face.
"How did this happen, Donnie? What's wrong with him?" Leonardo didn't hide his distress. "We just talked to him before bed. He was fine last night."
Donatello quivered, barely able to hold his brother's intense gaze. "I don't know, Leo. I won't know until I conduct an autopsy. I'll probably need April's help."
Leo loosened his hold and fell into Don's arms as they both silently succumbed to tears. Mikey clung to Splinter's soft fur as his orange mask began to dampen as he cried.
Hours later, after subdued calls to Casey and April, the family sat in a melancholic silence. Mikey set down a plate of sandwiches — they went untouched. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. It just didn't seem real. No logical explanation could be reached at the moment while they waited impatiently for Donatello and April to reappear from his lab.
Before their human friends arrived earlier, they considered leaving Raphael's cause of death a mystery. Why make incisions into their brother if they didn't have to? But the terrifying possibility of not knowing would have haunted them. And so they waited…
All heads shot to attention as Donnie and April stepped forward. The tension in the room threatened to overwhelm them.
April began, noticing Donatello was still struggling. "From what we observed and with a bit of research, we think we found the reason." She stifled a sob and shook her head.
Don squeezed her hand and continued. "We believe Raph died from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy."
"Hyper what?" Casey asked, voicing everyone's confusion.
"Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy results from the thickening of the heart muscle — making it more difficult for the heart to effectively pump blood," Donnie explained.
"Donatello, what caused his heart to thicken? And why Raphael?" Splinter inquired.
"It's usually from a strenuous, active lifestyle. Lots of exercise and activity as a body develops. It's common in young human athletes, but it's rarely tested for or discovered." Donnie tiredly rubbed his face. "As for why Raph — I don't know. It could be that he weight-lifted or worked out more than the rest of us. It could just be the way his body was set up. It really could have happened to any of us."
Splinter felt his whiskers twitch. "So, martial arts and ninjitsu are to blame? My teachings…"
"No! Of course not, sensei. There's no way we could have known," Leonardo said. He tightly clutched their father's hand.
"Leo's right, Master Splinter," April confirmed.
"And he didn't suffer," Donnie clarified. "He experienced cardiac failure due to an enlarged heart, but he was asleep."
A heavy silence settled upon the lair.
Quietly sniffling, Mikey raised his head. "What do we do now?"
"Come here, my sons," Splinter beckoned from his spot on the couch.
Leonardo slipped from beside him to kneel on the ground. Michelangelo rose from his position on the floor to kneel beside Leo. Donatello gave April's hand one more quick squeeze and joined his brothers.
April allowed herself to be swept into Casey's warm embrace and leaned against him. They wordlessly watched the close-knit family.
Splinter felt his lip tremble, but spoke clearly. "We honor Raphael. He will live on. We remember his spirit and the strength of his heart."
The three remaining turtles nodded solemnly. Tears streamed freely down each green face.
"We carry on," Splinter said.
In memory of a friend