It was the sound of his name that shattered something within his heart. Shattered, and made it whole again. She was crying, but then, so was he. Quietly, he pulled the dampened fabric from over his eyes and tucked it into his belt instead. She rose to her feet, and he found himself tugged in her wake, bound by the fledgling bonds of a kinship newly realized that would not allow him to be parted from her. The sibling sense was blossoming within him, seeking her out and claiming her as his own as surely as any of his other siblings. There was drumming, a rhythm beneath his feet, the sound of something ancient and wild. A primordial beat timed to the pounding of his heart.
Or perhaps it was merely the thunder of the waves against the shore.
She reached out to him then, and he reached back for her, his fingers brushing against the cold harshness of metal and mesh. Frowning, he traced his hands along the edges of her gauntlet, finding the tiny catches that held the shell of her armour closed. He teased them apart gently, just enough to pull the metal from her hand. Letting it drop to the sand, he took her hand in his, marveling at the warmth of her bare palm against his. His fingers closed over hers, and there was a rightness to it.
He knew that what he had to say next had the power to either heal or hurt. Knew that what his story did to her would depend on his telling of it. So he brought his other hand up, her little one now held in both of his, and as the warm breeze swirled about them like a gossamer cocoon, swaddling them in the scent of flowers, and growing things, and life, he drew a deep breath.
"Hamato Yoshi, now Splinter, had four sons. The youngest grew up to be a being of light and love. The next had a mind that would have put the great thinkers of history to shame. The next burned with passion and a drive to protect the innocent and the helpless. And the oldest loved his three brothers desperately, and devoted his life to ensuring that they were safe. And so it was that when the cleverest of them all created a machine that ripped a hole in the fabric of the world, it was the oldest who got in the way to protect the others, and fell through space and time into a world that was not his own."
He took a small step forward, his hand still holding hers, until the warmth of the luminous waters lapped against his toes. "He couldn't get home," he said. "But what he did discover was a multitude of worlds on the other side of the rift. Some very much like his own, and some as different as night and day. Some were lovely beyond imagining, and some crueler than nightmares." The light of the stars picked out the whiteness of the scars on his arm as he gave them a rueful glance. "And the more time he spent in this place across the rift, the more his mind opened to the different worlds within it. It was a gift that no version of himself or his brothers in these new worlds shared, and though they took him in and welcomed him, he found himself wandering in the quiet moments, exploring the multiverse for something, anything, that would help him find his way home."
His breath caught, the tears sliding down his cheeks to feed the sea with salt.
"Until one day, he found a world so much like his own, at first he thought he had made it home. Only there was something different about the feel of his home there. Yin where there should have been yang. But then, someone spoke his name, and he realized the truth."
He turned to her then, his gaze studying the eyes that he knew so well now. Eyes he had seen turned on him in both love from one face and hate from another. A mother's legacy to her little girl.
"There was one world. One in all the thousands that drift like islands through a sea of time. One world in which Yoshi was the one who perished in the fire that day. One world in which Yoshi died, but Shen… Shen lived. And came to the new land. One world in which Shen fought the creatures from beyond the stars, and was changed into something new. And it was in this world that Shen, now Master Shard, raised her four sons. And recognized her son in this lost wanderer, and spoke his name, Leonardo, and welcomed him as her own."
He faltered then, not knowing how to continue, and his voice when he continued was rough with the flood of emotion that threatened to stop his words entirely.
"Miwa…. neesan… I found her. I found our mother."
