Author's Notes: I had a really angsty night a few weeks ago, actually it was a couple of angst-filled nights spread out over a week, that spawned this little . . . not sure 'jewel' is the right word, but whatever. I wasn't sure if I was going to publish this story. I like it, but couldn't bring myself to post it until today. There is a section nearing the end that kind of jumps from third-person to first, it was accidental at first (what happens when you finish a story at 3 a.m.) but I liked it too much to change/fix it. So just deal. I'd say 'enjoy' but, well. . . Yeah.
Warning: Multiple character deaths. Like, lots of them. Be warned.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, and judging by this fic, I think they are glad for it.
He can still see them. Not as he had last seen them, but as they had always been.
Michelangelo sat on the faded blue couch, watching some cheesy horror movie while gorging himself on popcorn. Raphael rested on the arm of the couch, dumbbell lifting in one hand, motorcycle magazine in the other. Mike threw a handful of popcorn at the back of Raph's head, which caused the hothead to drop what he was doing and give chase to the fleeing jokester around the couch and TVs. But there was no anger in Raphael's face, he wore an amused smirk; Michelangelo wore only an expression of delight and mock terror as he shrieked, running faster. Donatello sat in an armchair that he and Don had fixed up some years ago, suppressing a laugh at his rambunctious brothers' antics, a half fixed toaster lying on his lap, a pencil and screwdriver tucked safely into the side of his mask. Master Splinter occupied his own armchair, a steaming cup of green tea in his hands, and a small smile playing on his lips.
It's been about two and a half years since Splinter died. It was a peaceful passing; they had all said their good byes. The loss had devastated them, but with time the four brothers had risen above the grief and grown closer to each other. And even closer after Casey and April both died in that accident last year.
But just four months after the second year anniversary of Splinter's death, the unthinkable happened.
He and his brothers had gone topside on their patrol of the city when they came upon a robbery in progress. A pack of purple dragons and a few handfuls of Foot were emptying the contents of a warehouse into the awaiting vans parked behind. The four brothers stepped in to stop them.
The fight was going well, each of his brothers holding their own nicely. He worked his way through the crowd, downing any who attacked. He made his way around back to secure the vans. Slashing the tires seemed pretty secure. But as he fought, he didn't notice that his brothers were still in the warehouse . . . until the explosion happened.
He remembers being thrown off his feet by the force of the blast, the sound leaving nothing but a buzzing in his ears for a while. He had stumbled his way back into the wreckage, calling for his brothers. Their enemies had run off because of the explosion.
His mind had been in a daze until he found his purple-clad brother, badly hurt and barely hanging on to life.
"Donnie! Donnie, everything is going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here," he had tried to sooth, but seeing his brother in such a state brought tears to his eyes.
"L-leo . . . no use . . . 'm sorry . . ." Donatello's breath was labored and his pulse was rapidly slowing.
Leo held his brother closely. "No. No, Don, please, don't say that. It's not your fault. It's not too late! Please. . . I love you." He sobbed quietly.
". . . Not y-yours either . . . Leo. . . I-I . . . l-love . . . you . . . too . . ." Donatello closed his eyes and moved no more.
Leo wanted nothing more than to stay with his brother, but he had to find the others. He gently laid Donnie on the ground, promised himself he would be back for him, and went in search of his remaining brothers.
Next he found Michelangelo, just as bad off as Don had been.
"Mikey. . ." He ran to his youngest brother's side and cradled him close.
"Leo?" Mike's eyes were wide with fear and pain, and Leo could feel his brother's spirit slipping away.
"Yeah, Mikey. I'm here."
"It hurts. . ."
Leo suppressed a sob, tears streaming freely down his cheeks mixing with the blood on Mikey's plastron. "I know, Mikey. But it won't last long. The pain will go away soon. Everything will be okay. Just close your eyes."
"I'm scared." Painful shudders began to overtake the young turtle.
"It's okay. I'm here. Everything will be okay, Mike."
"Promise?" His brother was so weak. He could feel him fading out.
He fought back another sob and managed to choke out, "Promise. I love you."
"Love ya too, big bro." Mike breathed out a shuddery breath. It wasn't followed by another.
By then, Leo was openly crying. He kissed his baby brother's forehead. Setting his orange banded brother's body softly on the rubble around them, he called out to his last remaining brother.
"Raph!"
"Here . . ." had come the weak reply.
Leo dropped to his knees beside his brother who was half buried, crushed by a large chunk of the ceiling. He could sense Raphael's spirit fading away as well. He wanted to scream "Don't leave me!" but instead he just said, "Wait for me. I'll come join you soon. I'll meet you there as soon as I can, just wait for me, okay?"
Raph's eyes were dull, the ever-present fire draining from those amber orbs. "Always. I love ya."
"I love you too, little brother. See you all again soon."
Then Raphael was gone, and Leonardo was alone. . .
He tries not to remember that night too often.
That next day had consisted of washing the blood from his brothers' bodies and replacing their stained, torn, and charred masks with fresh ones. He then took each to the small alcove on the side of a cliff that overlooked the ocean. The same alcove where they had laid Splinter to rest. It was impossible to find unless you knew it was there, and had a beautiful view of the sunrise. He buried his family there, carving words of love into the stone, but didn't mark their graves. He didn't want anyone to find them and dig them up.
That was three months ago. The last weeks had been consumed with plans for avenging his brothers, all the while he always saw his brothers exactly where he always used to see them. He saw Donatello tinkering in his lab, the never-to-be-completed projects now gathering dust. He saw Michelangelo in the kitchen helping himself to a double cheese Hawaiian pizza, the pizza now inedible due to weeks in the fridge. He saw Raphael in the dojo working over his favorite punching bag, the bag now forever still.
He saw his brothers on the rooftops with him each night he went out. And he had seen them today, fighting along with him, as he avenged their deaths, killing those responsible for the bomb set in that warehouse. Hun, the leader of the Purple Dragons, cut down for planting the explosives and luring them in. Shredder, long-hated enemy Oroku Saki, slain for ordering the kill. Even brain-in-a-jar Stockman, finished, for building the forsaken devise.
His brothers' deaths had been avenged.
Now he stood just outside the living room, watching his family. He makes his way to an empty arm chair, tracking red footprints with each step.
His brothers stop their play and turn to him, their eyes holding a warmth he hasn't felt in three long months. He again ignores the little voice in the back of his mind telling him this isn't real, that it's all in his head. His heart wants to believe, so he pretends that it is real. If only for one last time.
"You've lost a lot of blood," Don comments, observing the still-bleeding gaping hole in my side, as well as my other injuries. "It won't be long now."
Even if he wanted to try and fix his wounded body, it wouldn't do any good. He needed blood, and there was no one left to give it. So he relaxed into the chair, blood pouring from his side, as his body began to tremble.
"Don't worry, bro," Mikey chimes in. "Just close your eyes. Everything will be okay." He flashes a much-missed grin at me as he repeats back my last advice to him.
They all three gather close around me, expectant smiles on their faces. I don't want to take my eyes off them, but I close my eyes anyway. It isn't giving up; it's merely accepting what I can't change. It's fulfilling the last promise I made to them.
"We're waitin' for ya, Leo. Fer always, jus' like I said." I smile, tears streaming down my cheeks as I feel Raph's hand on my shoulder, Don's hand on my knee, and Mike's hand on my own. Offering me final comfort as I drift into darkness.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
A bright light gently blinds him for a moment, before it fades. When he opens his eyes, he sees he is standing in meadow. The grass is soft and the wind is sweet. He looks up and onyx eyes meet amber, then warm brown, then baby blue, as he takes in the sight of his brothers.
They are perfect, no wounds or scars covering their green flesh. He wonders if his scars are now gone too, but doesn't dwell on the thought. It isn't important.
"We've been waitin' on ya, Fearless," Raph tells him, nothing but love in his words.
"We are so glad you're here, Leo," Don states with a happy smile.
"Yeah, bro, we're glad ya finally made it," Mikey tones, latching onto his arm, face lit up with an expression of pure joy.
"I love you. All of you. I missed you guys," Leo manages to say.
"We love you too." Donnie wraps Leo's Mikey-free arm over his shoulders, pulling him into a one-armed hug.
Mikey releases his grip on Leo's arm, only to transfer it to around Leo's middle, hugging him tightly.
Raph grabs Leo's empty hand, and gently starts to pull the group forward. "Come on, Leo. I got Master Splinter saving us some places."
And together, Leo and his brothers went forward, fading out into a brilliant white light.
Wait for me.
Perfectus
Author's Notes: If you absolutely loved the story you just read, if you loved it just as it is and don't want your opinion of it influenced in any way: Don't read this author's explanation. If you hated it, then it is your choice if you read this or not. But to all those who found it confusing, or need to know more: please read.
Author's Explanation: So that was me, writing a tragedy/death fic. Yes, I killed everyone. I am not a tragedy writer, so this was kind of hard for me. Greif . . . is a hard emotion to write. It affects everyone differently. In this case, it drove Leo mad. The grief, the sorrow, the loneliness. It was too much. Leo considers himself the protector of his family. His life dedicated to keeping them alive. So when they were taken from him, each dying in his arms, watching as the lights faded from their eyes . . . a part of him broke. A part of his mind and a part of his heart.
I am also the oldest of four. We are as close as any four siblings could be. And I believe –no, I know, that if I lost them, I would go mad as well.
Unlike in most things, Leo doesn't blame himself for his brothers' deaths. After taking care of their bodies, laying the last of his family to rest, he has only two goals left in life: avenge his brothers', and fulfill his promise.
In this story, Splinter died of age, April and Casey died of carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep (They had been married almost three years) and Klunk died of a liver aneurism (same way I lost my dear kitty about four years ago).
Shortly after burying his brothers, Leonardo began seeing them exactly where he thought they should be. In the three months since his brothers' deaths Leo had been planning his attack on Shredder and Hun. So obsessed with it he became that he dedicated all his time to training and planning. He would completely forget to eat or sleep unless his 'brothers' reminded him. But he would still go about his responsibilities as though his family was still there. You could believe that it was his brothers' spirits that came to be with him, if that is what you want. But in my head, Leo was hallucinating them. Talking to the empty air, and watching empty rooms. His mind couldn't take it so it imagined them all there.
But in the end, Leo fulfills his last promise and is reunited with his brothers. I am a sap for happy endings, or, as happy as a tragedy fic can get.
-TheOneThatGotAway99