Weavings

A/N I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their existence!

This fic in its entirety is dedicated to my wonderful and amazing turtle bestie Gwydion, whose birthday is today! Not only is she a truly lovely person, but she is incredibly talented and so if you haven't checked her out you need to!

I.

The Soul Collector blinked onto the rooftop as though he had always been there. It had been years since he last allowed himself to see them. As far as they were concerned, he didn't exist. He knew it had been for the better, but it was still hard watching them grow older and live their lives without him. It was hard being trapped in eternity. But it was his job – his purpose – and he had to do it. Still, every few years or so, he couldn't help but drop into their world just so he could check in on them. Of course he knew they were alive and well – their threads told him that – but it was something about physically seeing them… He just couldn't keep away forever.

The brothers were all in their early twenties now. Each day they were steadily becoming that much closer to gaining mastery of their craft while they began tackling the new challenges that came with being adults. Naturally, Raphael had seen eons go by in what had only been a few years to them – dropping in and out of time tended to have that effect. According to Chronos' Master Clock, he had now been doing this gig for 563 years. Over half a millennia and yet compared to some of the other gods, he was still the new kid on the block. The young buck that could kick all of their butts and then some – but a newbie nonetheless.

Frankly, he didn't even know why he had chosen this particular night to visit his brothers. There was nothing special about the cool November evening. Judging by the crisp smell that crinkled the air, snow would probably begin to fall before daybreak. He'd already witnessed hundreds of first snowfalls – this one would be no different. Well, except that he was leaning against the air conditioning unit of a high rise and about to see his brothers for the first time in nearly thirty years. They wouldn't see him, but him seeing them would be enough. It was always enough.

It had to be.

Raphael sighed into the brisk night breeze to see the moisture in his breath waft away from his mouth. Absently, he played the golden strings at his side ensuring that each soul was continuing on the correct path while he nourished himself here and there. Most of the time he could do his job without even thinking. Heck, if it weren't for the other gods, the occasional wayward soul, and maintaining the Soul Nexus Gate, he'd probably be out of the job.

Well not really, but a turtle could dream.

A slight tingling from the three strings, which he had partitioned off upon his arrival in this segment of his realm, alerted him that they were on their way. Only a few more minutes and he could finally indulge in a glimpse of them.

He wondered if Michelangelo had finished the growth spurt he had obviously begun the last time Raphael had strayed in New York. Two years had passed for the brothers. That was more than enough time to finish maturing wasn't it? Raphael couldn't use himself as a reference point. He remained frozen in a teenage body and was there to stay.

Leonardo probably no longer had the same massive crack across his carapace – a result from a battle only a few months before Raphael's last visit. The scar would stay and the shell would never fully heal, but Raphael was sure two years would have been more than enough to make the wound less noticeable.

Then there was his last brother. Would Donatello still be as distraught as he was last time about not being able to attend college like Casey and April were? Raphael laughed to himself – he doubted Casey had even stuck around past the first semester. He had to admit, he sometimes thought about the car shop he and Casey had once dreamt about building together. Had Casey found someone new to dream with?

Raphael wondered if they ever missed him…

He snorted into the dark indigo sky. It was stupid and senseless to even cater to such musings. He thought he had finally left that part of him behind a century ago. Of course they wouldn't miss him – how can you miss what you never knew you had? His memory spells had seen to that. None of them would remember. None of them would ever know. None of them would ever see him again. Well… At the moment of their passing through the Nexus they would feel him, but it would be so brief and so overpowering, they would never recognize him for what he truly was.

Yes, Raphael was a god, but he was also a brother to three mutant turtles who had been made to forget he ever existed. It was better this way.

Shouts broke him out of his ruminations and silently, Raphael blended into the shadows he had long ago learned would always be his allies. Now that he could bend life threads around him, he was impossible to detect by mortal eyes alone. He felt his heart clench when he saw them drop into view a mere rooftop away.

He was right – Michelangelo had filled out more, but still evidently retained his fleet-footed demeanor. Leonardo was in the lead as always. Dual katana were still in their usual place strapped to his back. Raphael fingered his own sai remembering how he had long ago envied his brother so. The brother who always seemed better than him in every possible way. Once Leonardo had infuriated and motivated Raphael simultaneously. His envy was still there, but now was borne from a new source entirely.

He stroked the worn red leather. There was no reason to carry them. With his powers, he hardly needed them. Yet after all these years, The Soul Collector refused to part with his precious blades. Donatello catapulted over to his two siblings. His toothy grin flashed in the pooling streetlight. The three were lost in a world conceived both from their uncanny enigma and youthful surety.

Youth. Funny, Raphael would be young forever and yet just by observing his three brothers, he had never felt so old. It took every ounce of his willpower to remain hidden. He hated to admit how desperately he wished he could join them on their nightly run. Patrolling the skyline with his brothers at his side, Raphael missed it more than anything.

Already the three young turtles were almost out of sight. The Soul Collector knew he had lingered long enough. He should go back to the Soul Nexus sooner rather than later – as much as he pretended otherwise, he did have responsibilities. Besides, he really had been meaning to meet with Zephyr – Raphael's hired god of earth's weather – for a while now. Although he was technically Zephyr's boss, the two had been friends since almost the beginning, not long after Raphael had completed his transformation. Yet, even as his fingers strayed near his heart's harp, which would lead him out of this particular plane, he found he was unable to pluck the necessary strings.

Raphael shook his head. He was being stupid. He really should just go, but it wasn't like as Soul Collector he had to report to anyone. If anything, all the other gods, especially those who directly worked for him in order to help him run the entirety of his realm, reported to him. Even the major entities such as those on the High Council had no command over him. Heck, he sat on the council himself, and those old fogies mostly kept to themselves if Raphael kept to himself. As long as everyone did their job, nobody really cared what any of the others did. So really, Raphael could stick around for as long as he wanted. The question was, would he let himself?

Rubbing his temples in frustration, Raphael rolled his eyes at his own stupidity as he vanished from his current rooftop to reappear on the same one his brothers had just landed upon mere moments ago. Automatically, he ensured he was invisible to their senses, and was relieved he had taken such liberties when a red-head pulled open the rooftop access door, which literally sat in direct line of sight where the god currently hid. His breath caught at the sight of her and he felt his fingers clench around the hilts of his sai when Casey followed behind her. All five of them were there.

Screw Zephyr. Raphael would meet him in the morning.

The group greeted each in turn before all found a place on the edge of April's roof, hanging their legs as they gazed over the shimmering skyline. Raphael tilted his head in confusion. Why were his ever-active friends and family so eager to just sit on such a beautiful evening? Actually, now that Raphael thought about it, weren't his two human friends – well April anyway – supposed to be away at school? April answered his question for him, "So what was it that was so important you needed me to come home from college Donnie?"

Donatello unzipped his duffle and pulled out his laptop, "Two days ago, I was doing some scavenging for old tech and came across our first Lair. I went inside – just for old time's sake – and happened across an old floppy I must have left behind when we moved."

Raphael folded his arms in silent thought, unsure of what the big deal was… Suddenly, his eyes widened in horror. Wait. What?!

His brother clicked on his keyboard as he continued, "Of course I had to see what was on it." A video player flashed onto the screen, "This is what I found."

Obviously Leonardo and Michelangelo had also not seen the footage yet, for they shared similar shocked expressions as April and Casey. Donatello's mouth was set in a grim line as the short video played out. On the screen was the grainy images of four – not three – young mutant turtles playing amongst each other. Splinter's disembodied voice occasionally was heard, indicating he was the one holding the camera. There was Leonardo and Donatello playing with their blocks while Michelangelo tackled his action figure against his red-masked opponent's. The red-masked opponent that should not have been there.

Raphael had screwed up.

It had taken ages to gather a team of familiars that could hack into Donatello's systems and eradicate any evidence that Raphael had ever existed. Countless photos, videos, and documents had been scoured in an effort to erase him from his brothers' lives. The last thing he needed was for his memory spells to be compromised by having his siblings come across his image at a later date, and now Raphael had an entire room in his library dedicated to holding every physical piece they had gathered. He believed he had gotten everything – he had even gone through the Kraang and Foot databases – no one had thought that there would be any evidence left in the old Lair. It hadn't even been considered.

"Is that another mutant turtle?" April managed first.

"Yes." Donatello grimly responded.

"Whoa?!" Michelangelo gripped the purple-clad turtle's shoulder eagerly, "There aren't just three of us?"

"No." Donatello's frown deepened, "And there's more. Naturally, after finding this I had to wonder who the red-masked turtle was. I combed every inch of the old Lair, but this was the only thing I could find. Thinking that was it, I went on my own system and began reviewing all the old footage I had stored there. That was when I noticed it."

"Noticed what Don?" Leonardo prompted.

"That every file that once contained said individual had been altered." He solemnly stated.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! SHIT! Everyone stared dumbfounded at Donatello while Raphael mentally cursed up a storm, knowing he should have just taken that damn computer in the first place.

"But if that's the case," Leonardo shook his head, "Why haven't you noticed this sooner?"

"Because Leo," Donatello gestured at the screen, "I would have to look for it to know. Up until two days ago, I had no reason to think any of that stuff had been tampered with because it matched exactly with what I remembered."

Leonardo gaped, "What are you saying Don?"

The purple-clad turtle hit a key and suddenly the hundreds of visual media Raphael had spent days painstakingly altering appeared, but all of them had been restored to their original format, "That someone has messed with not just my tech," he tapped his forehead, "But our memories."

"What are you saying, Don?" The blue-clad turtle motioned, "That for whatever reason, someone doesn't want us to know about this fourth turtle?"

"He's not just any turtle, Leo." Donatello opened a picture of a head-shot of the mutant in question, "He's our brother, Raphael."