You all are awesome! That is all I have to say. Totally AWESOME!

sav—You are too sweet. What an incredibly nice thing to say! I am so glad you are enjoying the story.

LazyPanther—So sorry for ruining your day…and your makeup. The next couple of chapters are a little heavy on the angst side as well, but I promise more action and adventure soon. I also promise that there will be a rainbow at the end of the storm. I will say no more.

TwinKatanaBlades—I was listening to the Pearl Harbor soundtrack while I was writing that last chapter, and I will have to admit, it made me cry as well. Glad you're enjoying the story.

Thanks to NeoMars for beta reading this chapter for me. You're the best!

*Warning: graphic description of drowning. If this is something that might upset you, I suggest you skip the last part of the first section.


His brothers were gone.

Leonardo stared at the place where they had disappeared from view, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness settle over him. The thought that he would never see any of his family again sent a sharp pang of loss through his chest. He would never see Mikey's mischievous smile as he planned a new prank, Donnie's look of concentration as he worked in his lab, or Raph's cocky grin as he prepared to take on an enemy. This realization left him feeling as though a part of him had already died. There had been so much he had wanted to tell them, so much he had wanted to say. But there had been no time, and their goodbye had been all too brief and hurried.

It was probably for the best.

Leo had been holding on to his composure by a thin thread, and if they had stayed any longer, he doubted he would have been able to continue to put on a brave face. He had tried so hard to hide his grief and fear, not wanting to make things any more difficult for them than it already was. He already suspected that if it wasn't for Mikey's deteriorating condition, he never would have been able to convince them to leave him.

But they wouldn't have been able to save him either. Staying would have accomplished nothing but putting their own lives at risk. They would have been forced to stand by helplessly and watch him die, the very thought of which made him feel physically ill. As terrified as he was of being left alone, it was far more preferable than the alternative.

"I'm sorry guys," he whispered into the emptiness, the weight pressing down on his chest a physical manifestation of the weight he carried in his soul. He couldn't help but feel as though he had somehow failed his brothers.

If only he hadn't picked up that canister. He should have at least done the smart thing and given it to Donnie to check out as soon as they had the opportunity. His genius brother would have almost certainly realized that it was a bomb and deactivated it immediately. When it had started beeping, he should have known that something was off. He should have gotten rid of it immediately. If he had, this whole situation could have been avoided. Mikey wouldn't be in serious condition and he wouldn't be about to abandon his family by dying on them. He wasn't sure which was worse; the knowledge that he was soon going to die, alone and helpless in this wet tomb, or the thought that he was leaving his family to go on without him.

'Raph will take care of them,' he told himself firmly, believing deep in his heart that it was true. His brother might be hot-headed and quick tempered, but when it came to his family he was like a watch dog let off his leash. No harm would befall Mikey and Donnie while Raph was around.

Still, he couldn't get the look on his brother's face out of his mind. It haunted him. He had never seen Raph looking so lost and defeated. It was like a piece of his brother had been irreparably broken, and Raph had been trying desperately to hold the remaining pieces together. Leo had almost preferred the enraged Raphael over the shattered and hopeless brother who had left his side.

And then there was Donnie. His purple clad brother hadn't even been able to look at him, too overcome with grief. He had clung to Leo's shoulder desperately, unable to let go, and Leo had felt his heart shatter at the overwhelming anguish pouring from his brother. Knowing he was the cause of their pain and grief had pierced him deeply.

And what of Master Splinter and Mikey? How would they handle the news of his death? He thought he knew the answer, and it brought him no comfort. He would do anything to spare them that kind of pain.

A choked sob slipped past his lips, and he began to struggle weakly, knowing it was in vain, but unable to help himself, the desire to fight, to live, burning brightly within him. But the rock slab pinning him was simply too heavy, and all his struggling achieved was robbing him of the precious breath he was already fighting so hard to obtain. His body sagged back into the watery pool surrounding him, his breath coming in harsh pants, tears staining the corners of his eyes. His body hurt, but he was hardly aware of the physical discomfort in the face of his emotional turmoil.

He didn't want to die. He wanted to go home with his brothers. He wanted to make sure that Mikey was truly okay. He wanted to see Splinter again, and feel the warm comfort his father always offered when one of them was sick or hurt. He wanted to make sure that Donnie stayed off his bad leg and Raph wasn't hiding some injury. He wanted to see April and Casey again. He wanted to wake up in his warm bed back at the lair and discover all this had been some horrible nightmare.

The water was almost up to his chin, and he knew he didn't have much time left. He almost wished the end would come quickly, because lying here helplessly waiting for it was the worst kind of torture. His body was shaking with the force of his dread and terror.

'Fear is only another enemy you must learn to master through discipline and training.'

Master Splinter's voice echoed to him from some distant corner of his memory, and Leo pulled in a deep breath, willing his shaking limbs to stillness. He might not have learned to completely master his fear, but here, at the end, he would not let it rule him. His brothers may be gone, but he still had his memories of them, and that is what would keep him company in his final moments. That is what he would use to help him fight away the panic. He could think of no better weapon.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly, his body slipping into a state not unlike that used for meditation. Slowly and methodically he began to pull memories of happier times spent with his family to the forefront of his thoughts. It was difficult, his fear constantly attempting to rise back up and take control, but he determinedly fought it down.

He remembered teaching Mikey how to skateboard in the stone corridors outside the lair, a skill that his talented little brother quickly mastered until he outshone them all, even his teacher.

He remembered taking Donnie up to the junkyard at the edge of town for the very first time and watching in fond amusement as his brother excitedly perused the discarded piles of trash in search of hidden treasures.

He remembered exploring the depths of the sewers with Raph, pretending they were knights on a quest to rescue a beautiful princess being held in the bowels of the earth by a fearful dragon.

He remembered sitting in Master Splinter's room, relaxing back against the thick carpets and listening with wonder as his father told him stories about his homeland, daydreaming of one day being able to go there.

He remembered sitting around the kitchen table, his family surrounding him as they shared food and laughter. There were so many memories, and he allowed them to parade through his mind's eye one by one, like film from an old slide projector. A calm peace settled over him, his panic fading and his breathing slowing.

It didn't last long. The loud crash of falling rock from somewhere close by jerked him from his reverie, and he couldn't hold back a startled gasp. A moment later the water surged upward, flowing over his face in a small wave. He responded instinctually, lifting his head up and holding it above the rising water, trying desperately to ignore the agonizing pain the new position ignited in his chest. It was getting even harder to draw in a full breath.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought the sound of falling water had grown louder, as though that last crash of rock had knocked something loose and now even more water was flowing into the room. The water certainly seemed to be rising faster. He could feel it climbing steadily up his neck toward his chin.

'This is it,' he thought numbly, his calm wavering like a wisp of cloud in a heavy wind. He strained to lift his head as high as possible, even as he yearned for it all to be over with. His breaths were coming in painful pants now, every lungful agonizing and yet also somehow precious. He couldn't seem to turn off his fight to survive, even when he had no more energy to fight…even when the battle was mere seconds from being over.

The water slipped over his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and he already felt as though he wasn't getting enough air. He heard another splash of falling rock from somewhere near him, and this time when the water flowed up and over his face, he had nowhere to go.

In the blink of an eye his calm vanished, replaced instantly by terror. He began to thrash and struggle desperately against the rock pinning him, straining his body as much as he could in an effort to bring his head above the water. But it was no use. The water was rising too quickly now. His struggles only served to rob him of the last bit of air in his already oxygen starved body. He could feel his lungs burning and throbbing, sending desperate signals to his brain demanding air. He fought against the urge to breathe, black dots beginning to swim at the edges of his vision.

But in the end, he had no choice. His body over-rode his mind's command, and he felt his mouth open, his lungs expanding in anticipation of pulling in desperately needed air. But there was no air…only water. It flowed down his throat like chilled blades, stabbing into his lungs and causing his body to convulse. The pain was like none he had ever known, throbbing, burning and stabbing all at once.

His body shuddered under the onslaught, and if he could have screamed in that moment he would have. But even that small release was denied him. His body convulsed and writhed, his hands clawing at his chest as though he could somehow relieve the terrible pressure building there. The agony went on and on, and he screamed soundlessly in his mind, desperate for it all to be over…for the pain to end.

Then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, he felt his body go lax, a numbness sweeping over him and bringing with it blessed relief from the pain. Darkness began to cloud his vision, but this time he welcomed it, knowing the end was finally at hand.

The last thing he saw before the dark took him was Death standing over him, reaching slowly down with curled claws to claim him as its own.


"Are you sure you're not ready to head home to bed, babe?"

April shifted on the couch, burrowing deeper into Casey's hold, stifling another yawn as she fought to break free of the drowsy pull of sleep.

"Just a few more minutes," she mumbled, glancing at the old clock over the TV. It really was getting late, and she had an important conference call early in the morning, but just as she had all evening, she felt a strange reluctance to leave.

"You know the guys could be a while yet," Casey told her, shifting his position slightly so he could drape an arm down across her back, rubbing soothing circles. "Why don't you just call them in the morning to find out what happened."

April just shrugged, not bothering to look up. She couldn't answer Casey because she wasn't entirely sure herself. She had been in the lair all day, watching the news with the turtles and listening as they planned the evening's mission. When they had left several hours earlier, she hadn't been able to shake the gnawing sense of worry that had been eating at her all day. On the spur of the moment she had decided to remain in the lair until the boys returned, rather than return to her own apartment. She had called Casey, who had been working late covering for a co-worker, and told him where she would be. Then she had begun the agonizing task of waiting, something that she had never been particularly good at.

She knew she was taking the whole "mother hen" routine to a whole new level, but she couldn't seem to help it. She was worried, though she couldn't pin-point the reason why, and she hated being worried. It wasn't like the turtles were helpless children who needed protection. They were ninjas, trained and incredibly skilled, and they did this sort of thing all the time. It had never bothered her before, so why should it now? She didn't understand her feelings of unease, and knew she would deserve every bit of the teasing she would get from the guys when they returned home to find she had waited up for them.

At least she didn't have to wait alone. Splinter had kept her company for the first hour before retiring to his room for his evening meditation. Casey had arrived soon after, bringing with him several cartons of take-out Chinese and a movie. April had been grateful for the distraction, curling up close to her man and losing herself in the action and drama on the screen in front of her.

But now that the movie was over, she was feeling the weariness of a long day, and the worry continued to eat away at her insides, making her stomach churn. She knew she would never be able to sleep even if she did go home.

"What do you suppose Stockman and Shredder were up to in that building?" she murmured into Casey's shirt, her thoughts returning to the burning question that had been plaguing her all day.

Casey sighed. "I don't know, babe. Hopefully the guys are finding that out right now. All we can do is wait and see."

April nodded into his chest, then pushed herself away from him and into a sitting position. "I'm going to go and grab a drink," she stated, stretching muscles sore from being in the same position for too long. "Want anything?"

"Not unless Master Splinter has started carrying beer in his fridge," Casey snorted. "I'm telling you, I could use a stiff drink right about now. Work has been a bi..." Casey cut off with a grunt as April elbowed him in the side.

"There's no beer," she stated succinctly, "but I can always make you some of Master Splinter's Fuman tea. It's a special blend he created for when the guys start complaining too much. I've seen it work miracles in changing attitudes. It might do you some good."

Casey glanced over at her warily, obviously unsure whether she was teasing him or not. "Uh, no thanks," he muttered. "Does Master Splinter have a tea for everything?"

April let out a short laugh. "Pretty much," she replied, pushing herself up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen.

She was just passing Splinter's room when the door suddenly opened and the old rat stepped out. April opened her mouth to greet him, then paused when she noticed that his head was bowed, one hand lifted to clutch at the side of his skull as though he were in pain. He was panting slightly, and the hand gripping his walking staff was shaking.

"Master Splinter?" April asked in alarm, moving quickly towards him.

Splinter's head came up, and for a moment he looked startled to see her there. She felt her worry increase. In all the time she had known him, she had never seen him taken by surprise by anything.

"Are you okay," she asked, moving nearer but hesitating to actually reach out and touch him.

Splinter shook his head. "I am fine, Miss O'Neil," he murmured softly, dropping his hand from his head and letting out a deep sigh. "I was merely meditating when I sensed…" He trailed off, his eyes quickly scanning the room before coming to rest on the door leading into the lair. An unfamiliar expression flashed across his face, and if April didn't know any better, she would have said that the old rat actually looked afraid.

"Master Splinter?" she repeated questioningly, biting her lip and fighting back her growing sense of dread. "What was it you sensed?"

His gaze slowly moved over to meet hers, and April felt her stomach flip at the look deep in his eyes. "April, if you would be so kind as to call Leonardo for me," he said softly, not bothering to answer her question. "They have been gone for a while now, and I think it is time to check in."

If there had been any doubt in April's mind before that something was wrong, it was gone now. They never called the turtles when they were out on patrol. Never. It was an unspoken rule that they all followed explicitly. A lot of the time the turtles were in situations that required stealth and silence, and a ringing phone could be a distraction that could easily prove dangerous. She knew Donnie had programmed the phones so they could be silenced if necessary, but she also knew the turtles rarely used that feature. They didn't really need to…the only people who might call them while they were out were April and Casey, and they both knew only to do so in cases of emergency.

"Oh, o-okay?" April stammered, reaching for the phone in her pocket, her heart picking up pace. Master Splinter's expression now reflected his normal composure, but April couldn't deny the fact that only moments before he had looked shaken…badly shaken. This in turn only caused April's worry to sky-rocket. Something had happened with Splinter…something he wasn't telling her…something to do with the boys. She was certain of it. Why else would he have her call them in the middle of their mission?

Obediently she punched in the quick dial number that would connect her with Leo's shell cell, lifting it to her ear with a hand that shook slightly. She listened to it ring several times before a long tone let her know it had gone to messaging.

"He's not answering," she stated worriedly, lowering the phone. "Do you want me to try one of the other guys?"

Before Splinter could answer, they were interrupted by the sound of the door to lair swinging open with its normal grating whine. April turned quickly, feeling a flash of relief that instantly faded at the sight that greeted her.

Raphael stood in the doorway, shoulders stooped, eyes glazed, and chest heaving. In his arms he carried an obviously unconscious Mikey, while Donnie leaned heavily into his side, one arm slung over his older brother's shoulders, his head bowed and his breath coming in harsh pants. All three turtles were covered in a layer of dust that didn't hide the scrapes and bruises marring their green skin. Raph took a single staggering step into the lair before collapsing down onto one knee, Donnie falling next to him with a pained groan.

"My sons," Splinter gasped, lurching forward, his movement serving to break April free of her stunned surprise. Together they raced toward the trio at the door, Casey lurching up from the couch and following a step behind.

"Casey, grab Mikey," April called, even as she moved to Donnie's side, kneeling beside him and reaching out worriedly to lay a hand on his shoulder. He didn't look up at her touch, and she could feel him trembling slightly beneath her hand. It was obvious he was beyond exhausted and in more than a little pain.

"Raphael, what has happened?" Splinter demanded, reaching out to lay one furry paw against Mikey's plastron as Casey moved forward to relieve Raph of his burden. For a moment Raphael refused to let go, staring at Casey dazedly, as though not really seeing him.

"It's okay, I've got him, buddy," Casey murmured soothingly.

Raphael blinked at him, then slowly released his grip, surrendering his brother into the vigilante's arms.

"I'll take him back into the med lab," Casey stated, turning with Mikey and heading toward the lab.

"Raphael," Splinter repeated, his tone taking on a desperate note that April had never heard from him before. "What has happened to you and your brothers? Where is Leonardo?"

April felt Donnie flinch at the sound of his brother's name, and Raph's gaze snapped to his father, his dazed expression fading slightly to be replaced with a look of pain.

"I…" he started, then had to stop, swallowing hard, his shoulders stooping as though under a great weight. "I'm sorry, Father," he finally whispered, his voice torn and anguished.

April stiffened, her heart pounding so quickly within her chest that she feared it might explode. Suddenly she didn't want to hear any more…didn't want to hear whatever else Raph had to say. Like a frightened child she wanted to reach up and cover her ears, as though by denying their existence, she could rob his words of their fearful power. But she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe as she stared at Raphael, waiting for him to speak.

"I couldn't save him," Raph voice came out so soft and broken that April almost didn't hear him, his gaze dropping from his father's face to the floor, his shoulders hunched in a position of utter defeat. "I wasn't strong enough. He…he's gone."

April made a small noise in the back of her throat, the only sound that could escape through her suddenly too tight throat. She shook her head, wanting to deny his words, to deny what she knew he was telling them. But then Raph reached over his shoulder and drew one of Leo's katana's from his back, offering the single blade to his father without looking up, and she felt her heart freeze within her chest. There was no way Leo would have willingly parted with one of his beloved swords, not unless…

'Oh God, no! Please no…'

Splinter took the sword from Raph's hands, gazing down at the single blade with a look of frozen grief on his furry face. "Leonardo," he whispered softly, drawing a paw down the length of the blade. "My son."

April felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks, her breath coming in small little gasps as she struggled to come to grips with the awful news. She might not have known the turtles for all that long, but they had already become like family to her. The thought that Leo was gone, just like that, when she had been with him only a few short hours ago was almost too much to process. It just didn't seem possible. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe.

But looking at Raphael and Donatello, she couldn't deny the truth. The pain of their grief was palpable, hovering in the air around them like an invisible cloud, the weight of it pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.

"H…how?" she stammered, needing to hear the story, to understand exactly what had happened, even knowing that the knowledge wouldn't ease the pain.

Raph let out a deep sigh, slowly lifting his head, his expression one of hopelessness and despair. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Casey came bursting from the back room.

"Guys, I'm really not liking the sound of Mikey's breathing. I think you need to get back here, Donn…" he trailed off suddenly, taking in the silent scene in front of him. April watched as his eyes flickered one by one to each of their faces before coming to rest on the sword still clutched in Splinter's hands. His face paled, and he slowly shook his head. "No…" he whispered, his expression taking on the shocked denial that April knew must still be mirrored on her own face.

April was about to rise and go to him, needing the comfort of his arms, but before she could, she felt Donnie's hand close around her wrist. She looked over at him in surprise, flinching as she caught her first glimpse of his face. He was pale and drawn, dark circles ringing eyes that were puffy and red from weeping, a look of such deep pain etched on his face that it tore at her heart.

"Help me to the lab," he requested softly, his voice rough and gravelly, as though he had been chewing on glass that had ripped into his vocal chords.

"Donnie," she whispered, wishing desperately that she could come up with something to say to comfort him. Her first thought was "it's going to be okay," but that was so absurdly ridiculous she couldn't force it out past her lips. Never in her life had she met a family as close as this one, and now that one of their own was gone forever, she knew it would rip a gaping hole into the very fabric of their existence. It wasn't okay. It would never be okay.

"Please…" Donnie gasped, already attempting to push himself to his feet, grimacing in obvious pain. "Mikey needs me. I'm not going to lose him too…"

The desperate plea in his voice spurred her into movement, and she reached out and grabbed his arm, helping to steady him as he stood. Raph stood as well, looking only slightly steadier on his feet than Donnie. He reached for his brother's arm, but Casey was suddenly there, slipping in between them and pulling Donnie's arm over his own shoulder instead. "I got him, Raph," he murmured, his voice quiet and subdued.

Raph stepped back, allowing Casey to take his place, his gaze dropping down to where Splinter still kneeled, Leo's sword cradled against his chest. "Master…" Raph started, then choked to a stop, obviously no knowing what else to say.

"Go to your brother," Splinter ordered softly, his head bowed. "I will be there shortly."

April looked over at Casey, their shared grief an unspoken whisper between them. Then they started forward, Donnie limping between them and Raph following slowly behind.


Splinter was unsure how long he remained kneeling on the steps leading into the lair, his son's sword cradled in his hands, lost in his grief. His greatest fear had now been realized, the worry that had kept him up countless nights while his sons patrolled the city streets far above. Somehow he had always known this moment would come, just as he had always known that it would be Leonardo.

He had felt his son die.

There could be no other explanation for the abrupt sense of tearing pain and loss that had suddenly overcome him during his meditation, ripping him from his mind and driving him to the floor. He hadn't wanted to accept it then, and he still didn't want to accept it. But the evidence was lying in his arms, glittering up at him, cold and uncaring.

Leonardo, his beloved son, was dead.

He did not know where or how, but that information mattered little to him at the moment. All that mattered was that his eldest son was gone, ripped from this life at far too young an age. And Splinter had only himself to blame.

He had known from the start that by raising his sons in the way that he did…training them to fight, installing in them a sense of honor, and pressing them into taking responsibility for a city that would never know or understand them…that he was pushing them into a life of incredible danger. They had been so young, and he'd had his doubts, but they'd risen to each and every challenge he had set before them with enthusiasm and dedication. His training had given them a sense of purpose that they would not have otherwise had, and even knowing the risks, he had not been able to deny them that.

Leonardo of all his brothers had seemed to embrace the life of a ninja the most, throwing himself fully into training and studying, always striving to better himself. From a young age Splinter had watched his child in blue step into the role of leader long before he was ever officially named, always pushing and encouraging himself and his brothers to work harder and achieve more.

Splinter's heart had burned with pride for his oldest son, even as his soul secretly worried. He had seen many warriors in the past just like Leonardo, intensely skilled and burning with a powerful sense of justice. These warriors tended to achieve great things, but they also tended to die young. It was a secret fear that Splinter had carried with him for many years now.

Now that fear had come to pass, and it caused Splinter to question everything. Had he made a mistake in training his sons as ninjas? Would Leonardo still be alive right now had he not? Had he unknowingly sentenced his son to death?

He could feel his tears slowly soaking through his thick fur, and he unconsciously gripped Leonardo's sword more tightly. He knew it was foolish to judge the present based on decisions made in the distant past. There were simply too many variables…too many unknowns. He would not dishonor the memory of his son by questioning past choices. It would only lead to more grief and accomplish nothing.

Very slowly Splinter pushed himself to his feet, feeling older than he had ever felt before. He walked slowly to his room, Leo's precious sword held tightly against him. He entered his room and moved to the far table, gently laying the sword down on its smooth surface. His reflection glinted up at him from the bright metal, and he couldn't help but notice how worn and old he looked, his grief bowing his shoulders and clouding his eyes.

"Ah, my son," he whispered, drawing a single finger gently across the flat of the blade, his mind suddenly flooded with images of his eldest. He could still clearly remember the day he had first given Leonardo the blades. It was a moment of great pride for both of them. Leonardo had just mastered a complicated series of katas with the wooden practice swords, performing them flawlessly with speed and grace. Splinter had known then that he was ready to move up in his training. Leonardo's young eyes had shone with pride and excitement as Splinter had presented him with the twin katanas. "I will treasure them always, father," he had whispered as he reverently took the blades. And he had.

Splinter could feel his grief rising like a tidal wave around him, threatening to overwhelm him, but he ruthlessly shoved it back. The time to fully grieve would come later, but right now his other sons needed him. They were lost and in pain. Unlike him, they had never before experienced the devastating loss of a loved one. They would need his presence and comfort to help them through the days ahead.

In one evening their family had been torn apart, and he knew he would be needed to help pick up the pieces. The Hamato clan would never be the same, but as long as they relied on one another to help each other through, they would survive.

With a deep sigh, Splinter turned and began to walk from the room. When he reached the door he paused, turning back to stare at the table and the precious burden it now bore. "Be at peace, my son," he whispered, bowing respectfully in the direction of the sword. "You will be sorely missed." Then he straightened and silently left the room.

TBC

A bit shorter than the last one, but the next chapter is already looking to be a long one. More about Mikey, I promise.

You're reviews feed my muse and lend strength and speed to my fingers. *hint hint*