Edited Version 10/25/09

Chapter 10: What's Left Behind

It was quiet, so blissfully dark, numb and quiet. It reminded him of home, North Hampton after the first fallen snow. Central Park in December three AM nights. But Death wasn't as cold as he'd expected, and the dark wasn't as deep as he'd thought. And for a moment, the silence was interrupted.

A sound piercing through the blackness. It rang again, like a bell, and he twitched at the memory of church bells,

Again.

Again.

A pulse, bringing him closer to something real, something he could touch.

Leo stood alone, ready for battle, but Shredder had his sword. Honor, he thought. He'll know why Leo trusts his enemies, why he thinks they have his honor, how he can forgive them.

The battle was quick. The sword tasted his brother's flesh, and Raph remembered why he never forgives.

Leo gripped at the wound, stumbling drunkenly, all hint of grace gone. Ugly.

He turns, mouth open, skin paled, eyes flowing rivers of blood, and he whispers through bloody teeth.

"Promise."

Raphael's eyes flew open, trying to get up fast despite the room spinning around him. His heart was racing painfully against his ribs. The room smelled of antiseptic and death.

"Leo!"

He flinched as a pair of hands pushed him back into the enveloping warmth of the pillows, finding his own weakness surprising. He lost his will to fight it before he even gave himself a chance. But his head was pounding and his body ached, so he forgave himself.

Quickly, he realized he was no longer in the fortress, and it let him breathe a little easier. The Shredder was dead. He remembered the feeling of his sai twisting into his filthy eye and into his putrid brain.

But then there was Leo…

The room came into focus, cold, white, and unfamiliar. Gone was the darkness, gone was the dust and sand mingling with blood. Gone was the Shredder slain by his own hands. Forever.

The pulsing sound of the monitors rang again and again in rhythm with his heartbeat, steadying with every breath. He blinked again and caught Mike's tired eyes, his hands gently easing him back down.

"Hey," he said quietly, "g' morning sunshine." He smiled sadly and Raph just couldn't stop himself from bursting out laughing.

His brother's look of concern turned into a pout. "What?"

"Your teeth" he replied hoarsely between chuckles.

Mikey put a hand self-consciously over his mouth laughed. "I know, I know. They haven't fixed them yet. I look like I've been playing hockey, eh?" He said in a purposely terrible Canadian accent.

It felt good to laugh again. For over a week now, Mikey's whole life had been nothing but worrying. He knew his eyes would still be red from earlier that morning, but hoped his brother wouldn't notice.

Then Raph remembered, trying to sit upright in his fear and realization, dizziness hit him like a semi truck. He clutched his head and had to lay back down with a moan, darkness dirtying his vision.

"Hey, bro you shouldn't try to sit up like that" Mikey chided. "You cracked your head pretty good."

"Leo. Where's Leo?"

Mike tried not to let his expression change. "You know we're lucky they found you in time, you and Don. You guys would have been dead if Cody hadn't called Mr. Mortu and said we went in. I guess they came in right after you killed him."

"You mean…?"

Mikey nodded slowly. "Yeah, we won, Raph. The war is over."

Raphael sighed, a great weight lifted off his chest. He knew he was dead since the moment he felt his sai wrench inside his filthy alien brain, but it was good to hear it out loud. Finally. Finally the Shredder was dead.

But still...

"What about Leo?"

Mikey cast a quick glance over his shoulder, suddenly uneasy, and Raph followed his eyes. Blinking back the haze filling his brain, he saw his father sitting silently in the corner. A new wave of grief swam over him as he watched his Sensei cry, but he still needed an answer. He needed to hear it for himself.

"Don's in surgery right now," Mike continued, "They took him in just a minute ago. They said his spinal cord was almost severed. You should see his shell, it's a mess. It's all cracked and stuff." He hugged himself, shuddered. "They're not sure if he'll be able to walk again."

Then, something in the air changed. When Raph spoke, his voice was deadpan. Disturbed.

"You're not answering me, Mike."

Mikey's expression shifted, taking a step backward. Raph looked fevered, manic… dead. His eyes were still unfocused by the pain killers, and it only made it worse. For a moment, Mike was sure his brother had completely lost his mind.

"Raph, you need to rest. They got you all drugged up and everything. We'll come back later, okay?"

"No!" Raph screamed, pushing himself off the bed, ignoring the pounding dizziness and the protest of the monitors as they were ripped from his skin. "Tell me now! Tell me if I killed him. Tell me!"

It was Master Splinter who made him hesitate, not even speaking a word. The room went deathly silent as their gazes met, Raphael clenching and unclenching his fist, blood seeping from the detached IV site.

Then, a look of utter rage swept like fire across his face and Raphael lost himself. "NO! Fucking liars!"

He barreled forward with madness in his eyes. But the others were too shaken to react, stumbling backward into the hall, they slammed the door behind them, leaving Raph alone in the quiet room.

"Don't you leave me!" He bellowed, raising his fists to pound the door.

And then, he saw it—the bandage, the wound he wished he'd dreamt. Only one fist hit the door, the other was a mangled mass of bloodied bandages and bone-crushing pain. Gone.

He didn't want to look. He closed his eyes and prayed silently, genuinely, for the first time in his life.

He screamed again and slammed his fist into the metal door again and again until his knuckles bled and physical pain drown out the rest.

When the room was spinning too fast for him even to see the blood-stained door, he collapsed. Turning his back to the wall he slid slowly to the floor and finally gave into the pain and exhaustion. Feeling the encroaching darkness, the slow seepage of blood through the bandage, he saw his brother's figure standing there, as solid as anything he'd ever seen.

"Leo," he rasped feverishly, "please. You gotta help me."

But Leo only stared with an unchanging expression, nodding once but never saying a word. Then, he began to fade into the darkness.

"Leo, no! Please! Help me!"

In the hallway, Mikey winced. But even the stabbing pain in his arm from the heavily bandaged bone-deep gash, even the thirty six stitches that had taken to close it, couldn't compare to the pain that weighed down his heart.

His master was so frail, so sad. His fur was damp and matted from the crying, and for the first time in his life, Mikey the terrifying need to take care of his father. He'd grown ancient in a matter of days, so frail since they'd left, and even older still when they came back one brother short.

He'd taken it hard every night, every day, shedding silent tears or staring off into the distance, feigning meditation. And during the long, sleepless nights, Mike would listen as his father called into the darkness the names of ghosts. Just like Raphael.

After leaving Raph's room in such a hurry, he could hear his brother raging like a savage beast right through the walls. Raph pounded the door over and over, screaming out to him, but Mike was just too tired. He just couldn't deal with it anymore.

He had to retreat, run away like a coward. He just couldn't break it to him just yet. But Raph already knew. He just needed to hear it from someone else to make it real, but Mikey wasn't ready for that yet. It still didn't feel real to him.

He was supposed to be the carefree turtle, the joker, the prankster. But now he found himself becoming someone he didn't recognize. He was his father's keeper, the worrier, the bearer of bad news. The solemn, tear-filled one that kept strong just for the sake of the others, even though every molecule of his being was screaming for a breakdown.

But behind the door, Raph was breaking. He hadn't seen that kind of anger in his brother's eyes in a long, long time. The sight of it lingering there like a ticking bomb scared him to the very core. He knew Raph wouldn't take things well. He knew the scars they all carried would set deeper and harder in his hotheaded brother, but he never thought it would be like this.

It was so much to carry. He just didn't know how much longer he could take it before he got crushed under the weight of it. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, even walking felt impossible, like his legs and head were made out of concrete. Even talking was exhausting.

But he knew he had to be strong for just a while longer, until Raph healed and Don was out of surgery. Just until Sensei could stop crying.

He feared he would never stop crying.

He listened to his brother from the hallway until the pounding stopped and Raph finally exhausted himself. All around him, hospital staff gathered to see the commotion while the door rattled and jarred, then finally lay still again.

Mike sighed quietly to himself, and knew his brother had finally collapsed. It was time to be the strong one again. So he dutifully pulled a strong-looking nurse aside and spoke.

"My brother got out of bed. Someone should probably get him back in there before he wakes up. Don't stay in there longer than you need to and once he's awake, call me before you do anything. I'll be in room 313."

The nurse nodded and began to trudge off, but Mikey caught him by the arm again.

"And get help. He's really strong, so don't underestimate him. He can be a real hot head."

Letting the nurse go, he watched him march down the hallway and disappear. Then he turned in the other direction, the weight growing in his gut, making his footsteps heavy as he headed towards Donatello's room.

He knew he wouldn't be there for a while, though. The doctors had said the surgery could take hours. They'd never operated on a person like them before, after all, and Mikey figured that in the shape Don was in, it would be like putting Humpty-Dumpty back together again.

Seven surgeries and the sight of his brother's shell still made him nauseous.

Sitting in the dark room, waiting for Don, Mike and Splinter stared into the emptiness. Master Splinter had stopped crying for the moment and just stared straight ahead, lost in the shadow of his own thoughts.

After a long silence, Master Splinter cleared his throat. "My son" he said softly.

The sound of his voice made Mike jump with surprise.

"I know you will tell me in time the events of that painful day, but I feel I must ask you speak to me now, to the best of your ability. I find my imagination is getting the best of me, and I must know the truth to make these nightmares stop."

Mikey turned to his Sensei with a pained expression. The sight of it made his father's heart break.

"I am sorry, Michelangelo. I know it is difficult."

"No, it's okay Sensei. Promise." He hesitated, staring at his hands folded in his lap. "I really haven't told anyone about it yet. But I think I'm ready to tell you. Maybe."

The old rat stared into his son's eyes, amazed to see the pain dwelled behind them. It made his heart ache in the most unimaginable of ways. His son, once so carefree and child-like had been hardened, dulled like a blade that has seen too many battles. No longer did the innocence of childhood linger behind the blue. No longer did laughter come to them. Instead they spoke of so much pain, so much evil, so much sadness. It was a fate no child should ever undergo, but leading a life such as theirs could do that, he supposed.

His son had grown up all too soon, and all he could find within himself is guilt. There would be no justifying this. He'd made far too many mistakes.

Michelangelo had been the last of his sons to lose the innocence he'd once held on to so stubbornly. Long after his brothers had hardened, his eyes had still held on to that lively, childish energy of youth. There had been a time where Splinter had thought he may never lose it, instead carry it with him through the rest of his life.

It was a gift. Such an amazing, inspiring gift. Always, Michelangelo had been his family's light in the darkness.

But now he was scarred and battle-torn and the lights had gone dim. He was still so young, a child of nineteen, but finally, he had seen enough. Too much. No one so young should ever experience the horrors of war, especially one that had once loved life so much. Now the laughter had abandoned him, leaving behind only shadows of who he once had been.

Mikey closed his eyes and let the memories fill his mind. Finally he felt like they'd been locked inside for far too long, and maybe they wouldn't let him free them out. But the longer he sat in silence, the more the walls were torn down, letting the memories flow with every painful, bloody detail.

"We were fighting two and two. Leo and Raph split off to take the Shredder and that left Donny n' me to get the other guy. This guy Shredder called Lithos, he was made out of rock or something. He crushed him like a bug underneath this stone chair, but Don was trapped underneath and… and I could hear him calling for help, but I couldn't get it off of him. I couldn't…I guess… I just snapped."

Mikey could barely recall the final portion of the battle. He'd been running on pure adrenaline and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. It was like his body had been possessed and switched on autopilot. He'd killed without mercy.

But Mike was convinced. After that beast had done that to Donatello, he deserved no mercy.

"He almost got me 'cause I saw Raph with his arm lying on the floor… like, ten feet away from him. I've never seen so much blood in my life and I never want to ever again." He shuddered at the images pounding through his brain. "And after Lithos fell off the balcony I turned to see if Raph was okay, if they all were okay, but I was all alone. The Shredder had one of Raph's sai sticking out of his eye and the blood was just pouring out..."

He looked up to his Sensei and noticed his hands were shaking. A bolt of nausea twisted his stomach. "I…I saw them all, lying on the floor, bleeding. I thought they we're all…they were all…dead." He shuddered again, then gasped, promising himself he wouldn't cry. Instead he wrapped his arms around himself and turned his head away, fighting to stay strong for just a while longer.

Splinter shook his head. So much pain, he thought, and so much suffering. One should not be made to suffer such evils so young.

"Then someone broke down the door. Cody came in with Turtle X and Bishop was there in this giant battle droid. And all these Utroms and clone troopers came in with their battle gear and these huge laser guns ready to take the whole place down. But no one moved when they saw me. When they saw what had happened."

"And that is when Mr. Mortu brought your brothers onto the Homeworld."

Mikey nodded. "Yeah. They brought us to this hospital thing, but it was all gross like Utroms stuff, you know. I-I thought for sure they were gonna save them. Like they were gonna be okay because the Utroms can do anything, right? And then Leo... he just..."

His eyes welled up with tears. He stood from his chair, knelt by his father feet and laid his head in his lap, letting the old rat comfort him as he did when he was a child, whenever Raph had been teasing him or he'd skinned his knee doing something stupid. But now the pain was different. It hurt from the inside out in a way that would never get better.

He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

He looked up to his Sensei and sobbed. "...he just… went to sleep. I never even… got to say goodbye."

He shook as he buried his face again.

"I was all alone!" He bawled. "And I don't even know why. W-why'd he have to… I don't know why. I've been so below par lately, but I was the one that got out of this. I don't know why it's me that has to be okay, because I shouldn't be. I shouldn't."

He buried his face further into his father's lap again. "I…I just wish…it was me, not him. I can't do this! He would have known what to do!"

Splinter sighed, grief filling his voice as he comforted his sobbing son, resting his paw on his quaking shoulders. "Do not say such things Michelangelo. Fate decides what paths our lives must take. This has been the path chosen for us, and you must be strong. Look towards the horizon, for we can never turn back."

"I…I just want it to be the same. I… don't want it to hurt anymore. I don't want to cry." His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, his face still buried in his Sensei's robes. "But I know it'll never be the same. Everything's changed. I can see it. Don just looks so sad. I know it hurts him. His shell was busted into a million pieces. He almost died. When they picked him up, it was like he was going to fall apart. The Utroms glued his shell together with this cement stuff, like gluing a broken plate. They said they had no idea how he lived. They couldn't believe it when he woke up."

Splinter nodded and stroked his son's head. He seemed to be regaining his composure.

"And then there's Raph today, the first time he'd been awake and talking since then. But it wasn't happy like I thought it would be. When he first started laughing, I thought he'd be okay, but I don't think he really knew what was going on. When he was asking for Leo, I just couldn't tell him. I couldn't. I wanted him to be okay. But when I saw his eyes, it scared me. It wasn't anything like him, it was scary. The last time I saw him look like that, he was holding a pipe over my head."

"I saw it there too, my son. We have all been traumatized in many ways and your brother has two losses he has been dealt. Losing a limb is an experience no one should be subjected to. Raphael is as sensitive as he is passionate, but he will deal with things his way until he is ready to let us in."

Mikey sat up and looked into his master's eyes, and nodded as they reached their understanding. They would help Raph when he wanted to be helped. But before they could do that, he had to tell him about Leo. He knew his brother deserved to hear it.

Then the door clicked open and the pair flew to their feet. A doctor walked into the room followed closely behind by two nurses carrying a sleeping Don on a stretcher. They placed him gently onto the bed and scuttled around adjusting his IVs before leaving the doctor behind to speak to his family.

Dr. Touresh, the doctor who had been performing the last of Don's surgeries was of some alien race unknown to both the rat and his son, but his smile was warm and comforting none the less.

"The surgery went wel,l" said the doctor, beaming. "He certainly is a fighter."

Splinter smiled and nodded. "Yes, Donatello is very determined."

"I can see that," said the doctor. "I've never operated on any person with his bone structure before. It was a learning experience, for sure. The shell made things tricky, but he pulled through nicely thanks to the Utrom's initial intervention. The epoxy they used to mend him is absolutely amazing. It's as if it was made from living flesh."

"The technology of the Utroms will never fail to both confuse and astound me, Dr. Touresh. Now tell me, is this the last of his surgeries?"

"Well his spine has been repaired and his shell should hold up fine as long as the bandages stay on a few more weeks, just in case. After that, I don't want him moving much for another few months. Just how long will have to be touch and go, but he has a lot of healing left to do."

"And about the paralysis? You mentioned that he may regain sensation in his legs."

"It's too soon to tell for sure, but the microchip we implanted in his cortex should reprogram his brain to regain motor function. It acts as a secondary sensory-motor center that should eventually stimulate his lower extremities. It should branch out and effectively replace the damaged nerves that were severed by the injury. But it usually takes a while. The brain has to learn to use the chip to compensate for the damaged neurons in his spinal cord, and the chip has to adapt to the body."

Splinter nodded, but Mikey looked betrayed.

"You said that once you put that thing in his brain he'd walk again."

"I said there is a likelihood that he will regain sensation. Walking is a completely other matter. But if your brother is even half as determined as I think he is, he just may be able to surprise us all."

"And what are the chances of that?"

"It's still fairly new technology, and with your brother's unique physiology, I honestly can't make any promises."

"But that's not what you said!" Mike shouted, brow knot in frustration.

"Michelangelo, that is enough!" Barked Splinter.

Feeling defeated, Mikey walked over and slumped in the chair by Donny's bed, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off. After a short while, Master Splinter finished talking with the doctor and seated himself beside Michelangelo, staring at the unmasked face of his other, broken son. There was good news; it was the last of the surgeries. Now only time would tell how complete his recovery would be.

"I'm sick of hospitals," Mikey said bitterly. "I think I need some fresh air."

Master Splinter sighed. "Maybe it is time you went home, my son. You need to be free of this depressing place for at least one night. Go home and rest, get some sleep. I will be here in the morning."

Then the old rat waved his hand, dismissing his son, and closed his eyes. But Mikey knew he wouldn't sleep, at least not until Don woke up, and that could take hours.

As much as he wanted to wait with him, he just couldn't bring himself to be cooped up in a sterile white room anymore. He had to get out of there, but not before he spoke to Raph.

Right before he made to leave, the door clicked open again, and as if by some lucky twist of fate, the large nurse from hours before poked his head into the room, giving him a silent nod that meant Raph was awake.