Death's Hand
Chapter 1: Bringing It Together
A/N: I was trying to make a comic but gave up. Made it a story. Hope ya like it.
Disclaim: I do not own or know the TMNT.
The machine beeped in rhythm with the unconscious turtle's heart. His brother sat in the chair beside the bed; hands folded and gaze to the floor. The unconscious turtle shifted, moaning and the brother's head snapped up, eyes wide.
"Leo?" the brother asked, looking at the awaking turtle.
The waking turtle moaned as he opened his eyes if just barely. "Raph," he mumbled.
"Hang on, Leo," the brother said, shifting in the chair and placing a hand on his brother's arm. "I'm going to go get Don and–"
"Raph," Leo cut in, voice barely a whisper as his strength ebbed away, "I can't hang on much longer."
Raph was visibly panicking at Leo's words and he stuttered, "But, Leo, you have to. You can't leave us. Not now."
Tears were streaming down Raph's face as he gripped the sheet tightly with his other hand. Leo retched over and covered Raph's white knuckle with his hand. "I'm sorry. Promise me, though, that this family...will stay the same...no matter what."
Raph bowed his head as Leo's hand lost its grip and whispered, "Promise bro."
The sound of footfall and heavy breathing came from the hall and Raph knew his baby brother was coming in a hurry.
"Leo!" Mikey called, panting, as he entered the room.
"Mikey..."
"Come back!" Raph stopped Mikey from reaching Leo. Raph held Mikey back with one arm, tears falling from his face as Mikey yelled, "Don't leave us!"
"He's already gone, Mikey," Raph snapped, his body shaking as he cried. The rest he said barely left his lips as a whisper as Mikey slowly broke down. "I'm sorry."
A few rooms down, an old rat lays his ears back and mumbles, "Leonardo."
"Leo," the fourth turtle said, sitting at his computer crying.
"I'm so sorry," Raph whispered into Mikey's shoulder as the pair stood there holding each other in a hug.
Several days later, a wind kicks leaves around a small group in front of a group before a grave, all garbed in black. The fall air was crisp and cold, just like most of the people standing before a new plaque in the ground. A flower was placed before the plague as a leaf covered the words briefly. When the wind kicked up again, the following was readable:
Leonardo Hamato
1990-2008
A brother and son forever.
A sword with a bandanna going across it was engraved below the saying. Nothing was passed among the group through words or movement. But as the sun began to set, two in the group shifted, saying something.
"We better be heading out, guys," the male said uneasily. The female nodded, walking over to the one closest to the grave. She gripped his gloved hand and whispered, "Take care, Donnie."
The turtle nodded, his black hat shading his wet face. The female moved the hat back a bit and kissed the turtle's forehead, pulling her friend into a hug. "I mean it, Donnie. I don't want to lose you too."
The female and male left, leaving the four mutants alone around the grave. The tallest shifted, clearing his throat. "Come on, we better be heading home too."
"Raphael is right," the shortest said. "Come."
Three of the four turned to leave but the tallest looked at the now middle child. He smiled. "Come on, brainiac. That includes you too."
Don chuckled. "I know. I'll see you at home. I just want to be here for a little longer."
"Not too long, Donatello."
"I'll be home in an hour, Sensei."
The small group of three left, leaving the lone turtle with his thoughts. Don sat on his heels, facing the grave. Tears were streaming down his face but no sound came from him. He started when the sound of footfall grew and he looked at the female squatting before the grave next to him. He read the inscription.
Jordan Leko
1989-2005
Missed brother and friend.
"Hey, bro," the female mumbled, talking to the plague. "I got my license today. I dove all the way here to show ya that I could do it."
She paused, sighing. "Our baby brother died three months ago to pneumonia. You already knew that, though, didn't you? I'm in my second foster home. There's a little boy named Benny whose parents are abusive. They never lay a finger on him but his mother gets beat regularly and she yells at me after word, blaming me for everything. I take the abuse. No one's going to believe me unless I have some proof and I've never gotten a bruise from her hand.
"Benny's sweet. He needs me there for some acceptance. His father's in the same gang you were in that got ya killed. When her husband dies, though, she'll probably going to marry another just like him." She sighed. "I miss ya, bro. I'm all alone here, 'xcept for Benny. I told ya if you joined the Foot, it would be the death of ya."
She stood, chuckling. "I probably should have been careful on what I had said, hu?"
Don stood, gaining the female's attention. She turned swiftly and the gold pendant bounced against her chest. His eyes were drawn instantly to the engraving and he gaped. "You're part of the Guardians?"
"The what?" the female asked.
Don pointed at the pendant. "That's a Guardian's pendant. Why are you wearing it if you don't even know who the Guardians are?"
She gripped the pendant, looking at the plague beside her. "I was given this by a man when my brother entered this gang of some sorts saying that as long as I wear this, I'm protected. Guess I never pulled myself to chuck it."
"You said that your brother was part of a gang of some sorts. Which gang?"
"The Foot." She shrugged. "Well, that's what he called it at least."
"You're not part of the Foot, are you?"
She laughed. "Are ya nuts? I was the one that told my older brother not to. He was the one that said it brought great money. He's the one that died because he joined that fucking group."
She sighed, cringing slightly. "I'm sorry, but talking about that group of murderers puts me on edge."
"It's fine," Don said. He chuckled. "I'm Donatello, by the way."
"Linda." She smiled. "Guess we forgot intros, hu?"
"Yeah, I was always bad at that piece."
Linda looked at her watch and her smile began to disappear. "I better be heading home. My foster parents don't like it when I'm late."
Don nodded. "Do you have a phone or access to the Internet?"
"I have my own phone and at least once every two weeks."
Don dug into his pocket for a scratch piece of paper and pencil. He scribbled something down and handed it to Linda, saying, "So we can maybe talk later."
She took the piece of paper and slipped it into her pocket. "Don't know how that'll work but sure. Bye, Donatello."
"See ya, Linda."
A/N: Hey look! I got farther than my comic sketch did.