I don't own TMNT, Oneshot

Memories to Letters

He was the only one left. He was the only turtle that survived. At nineteen years old, his life is forever ruined and pointless. His brothers called him Michelangelo.
Michelangelo didn't know what to do with hisself anymore. The lair was broken, the lights barely worked, broken glass and cracked walls everywhere, debree coated every inch of the floor. He had also disreguarded his old hobbies, comicbooks, television, videogames. He burnt them, in a small fire he accidentally made in the kitchen a year back. Michelangelo woke up on the broken couch; he slept all yesterday and felt a pain in his plastron. Cramp. He streched his legs and arms, and yawned.

He woke up to one thought every morning: What was the point of being alive if everyone you knew and loved died?
He considered suicide many times. It felt reasonable. Maybe, in whatever after life wasn't so far fabricated it made no sense at all. He just wanted to see his brother's once more.

He stared at the cluttered floor for hours. A single dim light was on, making it hard to see some of the objects in the room. He finally stood up, sighing. He jumped to the second level slowly, peering into Master Splinters room.
Master Splinter was first in the family to perish, he died from a heart attack. He took great care of himself, eating nothing but vegetarian food within the last five years. But he died peacefully in his sleep.
Raphael and Leonardo were almost teared into shreads, Leo training extra hours and Raph retreating to his punching bag until his knuckles bled, and when they healed the next day Raph went right back to it.

"Raphie, you should take it easy. Look at them! They are coated in blood," Don begged.

"I don't care Donnie," Raph said. "And I won't ever." Don turned around his swivel chair and started to tap away on his laptop.

Michelangelo couldn't help but see his brothers taking this like they were hit by a train. It hurt him and Donatello to see them in such a way. Michelangelo went back to his room, opening a new comic book Don got him for a cheer-up.
He got bored of it and tossed it aside, not caring how rare it was. He sighed heavily as he looked up at the ceiling.

"I hope it will pass," he whispered to himself.

Then he passed Raph's room. It was as messy as it always was, but it started to collect dust. Michelangelo sneezed as he walked in and picked up one of his older brothers sais, touching the tip caringly and feeling the smooth blade.
He put it down carefully, and then sat on his hammock, rocking himself back and forth on it. He looked around his room of posters of bands that didn't exist up to this day, and he missed his hot-headed outbursts and rough personality.
He had to admit that it made the family once what it was. He remebered the tough death Raphael went through, a gun shot that went through his brothers artery and another through his chest, inches from his heart.

"Raph!" Leo yelled. They were on a slippery rooftop in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Leo and Don ran next to him, Don placing his hand frantically on his older brothers neck and Raph choking on blood. "What the shell do we do Don!" Michelangelo yelled.
"I-I don't know Mikey! I don't think we can stop the blood from coming out!" Raph had blood pouring out of his mouth, his coughing slower, as if he stopped trying to get it out.

"Don!" Leo yelled again. "What do we do Don? Please tell me we can fix this!"

Don looked confused, that and frantic. Don hadn't been prepared for any of this, Raphael would assurely die by the time they got home or to April's. He didn't know what to do. The genius brother, the one with all the answers, had no idea what to do.
He felt his pulse again, shaking his head and tears spilling from his eyes.

"There-there is no pulse," he whispered, reaching out for his dead older brothers hand and gently massaging the dried blood on it.
Leo and Mikey had been struct quiet, the only sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop and jumping off the vent.

Raphael, was dead.

That was just a memory by now. Michelangelo had wanted no part in remebering it, but they had buried Raph a few days after. He recalls the funeral, quiet, rainy, in the yard of the farmhouse, where he could be in peace.
It was the saddest day of his life, as he so thought. But nobody was prepared for what happened next.

Michelangelo shut the door to Raph's room and passed Leo's. Usually, Michelangelo and his other brothers were never allowed in the eldest brothers room.

Leonardo, completely unlike Raphael, had a cleaned room, bed made, weapons and books shuffled and in order. Michelangelo lit the heavily melted candle sitting in the center of Leo's room.
He sat on Leonardo's blue futon. He always admired Leo for his dedication and determination, he was almost a god in his eyes. He stood up when he saw Leonardo's blue katana, sitting neatly on his weapon rack, high above the others. Michelangelo carefully lifted it up, the blade had collected dust, but still shone as it always had in the candlelight.

"Don, Leo's burning up, bad!" Mikey yelled.

"Coming!" Don said hurriedly, running with a cold wet cloth in his hand and rested it on Leo's forehead. He felt his skin, it was too warm. Leo had moaned, his hand came out from his side and he put it on Don's cheek, resting it against him.

"It...it's alright, Donnie," he whispered. "I...I'll make i-it."

"Leo, please don't leave us, not now, not ever," Don said to his oldest brother.

"S-Sorry Donnie," Leo whispered. He put his hand down and his breath suddenly stopped. "No," Don whispered. "No!"

Don and Mikey hugged eachother tightly, tears in their face. They sobbed uncontrollably. Don then ignored his sob and put his hand on his neck for pulse. Then he felt his heart. It wasn't beating.
He began CPR. It had no effect. After twenty minutes of heavy sobs from Mikey, "Donnie, just, leave it Don. Nothing i-is gonna help," Mikey said with a choked sob.

Don nodded as he gave up on his brother. He sat the lifeless Leo up, he had never seen Leo so peaceful in his life. Their leader was dead, and soon after, the turtles would fall apart.

Michelangelo shut his eyes tight, a tear dropping down. It fell onto the floor, and he blew out the candlelight in his older brother's room.

Lastly, it was Donatello's room. Don was his closest brother, of them all. His death struct Michelangelo to near insanity. Michelangelo broke down as he stepped into his room, his bed a bit messy, old lab experiements and old notes and theories coated his room. Michelangelo shut his eyes. Don's death was the hardest, his last brother to be alive, had the quickest death, but most painful to think about. He had died along with April and Casey. It was the night he lost the rest of everything.

Don and Mikey had been the last two, it was painful to get up out of bed in the morning.
Mikey sat in his room, Don had installed a small television to cheer him up. The lab was always quiet.

"Hey Mikey, wanna go see April and Casey? We haven't seen them since...well, you know," he said, refusing to mention Leo's death a month earlier.

Mikey nodded as he got up, running with Don out of the lair and into the sewers. When they arrived, all of April and Casey's lights were out. The street was dark. The lights weren't on, but there was a loud noise coming from the house, like multiple people talking and cheering. Curious, Don and Mikey walked in the second story window. Don flipped on a light.

Sprawled in the middle of the floor, was April and Casey. They were tied up, the rope cutting into their skin and blood was on the carpet. Their clothes ripped with each movement, their struggling not helping.

"Wha-" Don said

"Hello, freak," Hun whispered. "Hun!" Mikey yelled.

Hun laughed cruelly and he held up April. He had a heavy gun in his hand, holding it to April's chest. "Not a move," he said. A group of purple dragons surronded him, laughing.
Mikey had looked at Don and nodded. Don and Mikey jumped up, when a gun shot was heard.

"No!" Don yelled. April was shot. "Too late turtle," Hun said, pointing his gun at Casey and slowly pulling the trigger. Within a minute, Casey was dead.

April and Casey had died. Don front-kicked Hun, sending him through the window. Hun had the gun in his hand and smile, shooting at Don's head. Don let out a scream as he fell to the floor, plaged by unconscioussness. He only had minutes to live.
"No Donnie!" Mikey yelled. "Please Don! Your the only person I have left bro! Don't give up on me!" No answer.

The purple dragons had retreated the then angry Mikey, running out the doors and windows. Mikey went back to Don, shaking him violently and breaking out into a heavy sob that last him all his life.

Michelangelo broke out into tears, leaving his brothers room. He regreted going into his room in the first place.

"Stupid," Michelangelo whispered to himself. He cried uncontrollably.

Later, Michelangelo sat in the kitchen sipping his chipped mug of cold coffee. He saw a lone piece of paper on the countertop. Strange, the countertop was once empty when he cleaned it earlier. Next to the paper was a pen.
He had an idea, maybe it'd help to write to his dead brothers. It sounded insane, but maybe he'd get a few things out of his mind. He picked up the pen and started to write.

Dear Raph, Leo, and Don

Is suicide an act to commit? Is it reasonable? For some it is, I have nothing to live for. The Shredder had disappeared, Mortu had contacted me several months ago that they had sent him to a distant isolation planet. The world is safe, and there is nothing to fight for anymore.
Raph, I miss your hot head. Leo, I miss your guy's dumb arguments. I miss your determination and extra hand, and I miss brainiac Don.
This is pretty dumb. I'll check into a nut-house for you.
-Mikey

Michelangelo cringed at his bad handwriting, but ignored it, crumpling it up into a ball and throwing it aside. He rested his head on the table, falling asleep.
He woke the next morning to neck pains. He massaged his neck.

He saw the letter in the dim kitchen light, he absent-mindedly picked it up. He uncrumpled it, reading it over. Only, it wasn't what he wrote. It was in his brother's handwriting.

Dear Mike,

We all miss you. You will come to us soon,

Leo, Raph, and Donnie. (And Casey, April, and Master Splinter.)

Michelangelo held his breath. This was a good thing, he felt happy that yes, he would have a chance to forever be with his family.
Michelangelo ran to the dusting weapon rack, dusting off an old ninginata, and silently sitting next to a lit candle. He put the ninginata at his heart.

Michelangelo woke up, the smell of breakfast. A familiar sight, Leo, Don, and Raph sitting around him. All their scars had disappeared, heart-warming smiles on their faces.
"Hey Mikey," Raph said, taking his younger brothers hand.
"Welcome to our world Mikey," Leo said, pointing around. The room had seemt like the one in the farmhouse.

"Where am I?" Mikey asked. "This is the second life," Leo said. "It's basically suppost to be like our regular world, but more complicated," Don said, hugging Mikey.

"Guys, I-I miss you," he said, a tear of happiness going down his face.

GOOD! Doooonne, :)
Alright, Mikey is in his second life with his brothers now. Good ending! It turns out he killed himself in his first life. But, hey, he couldn't keep living like that.
I kinda cried reading over it. I hope you like it too