uncertain attempt to comfort him. Leo had stopped sobbing sometime in the night, and slumped between Raphael and Donny, finally passing out. The wan grey of morning was spilling through the van windows, as Casey cussed softly and eyed the road. April was wilted in the seat, asleep.
Carefully ignoring Mikey's corpse, Donny craned his neck to check on Splinter. The old rat was dozing lightly by Mikey's head, paws still curled over his son's cold forehead. Squinting, Donny peered out the windshield. The roar of the city had faded to the quiet green stillness of the country side. Awake now, Donny yawned and stifled the groan at the aching stiffness of his shoulders. Gently easing Leo to the side, he turned to see if Raph was alright. Raphael had curled on his side, knees and arms nearly in fetal position. He shifted and muttered uneasily, but remained asleep.
"Good morning, my son." Splinter's soft whisper was only a gentle breath as the old rat offered him a kind, but tired smile.
Donny flinched and swallowed a few times before he answered, "Good morning, Sensai. Did you sleep at all?"
Splinter sighed, sadly. "I slept, but I did not rest. But do not worry about me, Donnatello. This ordeal is wearying for all."
Splinter's eyes narrowed when he saw Don's troubled glance towards Mikey.
"What is worrying you, my son?"
Donny cringed at the question. "It's nothing, Master Splinter...or at least nothing that I want to bother you with right now."
"Donnatello." Splinter's voice was still soft, still kind, but edged with command, as he stared at his son.
"As a father, it pains me to see my sons suffer so much, and be helpless in easing their sorrow. My son, what troubles you? Will you not allow me to help you?"
Donny allowed the reassuring paws to caress his forehead. He allowed Splinter's failing attempt to comfort, to soothe, to heal.
But, he didn't allow Splinter to know his full anguish, and he didn't voice the true horror that he was grappling with.
It was disgusting and cruel, but none the less true. Mikey had now been dead for over twenty-four hours.
Were they human...
Donny choked back the tears, again. Were they human, Mikey would have had medical treatment, pain killers, a chance. Not the scared, shaking stitches of a terrified brother who could do nothing at all but time the convulsions, and watch him die.
Were they human, Mikey's corpse would not be suffering the indignity of being wrapped in sheets in the back of a creaking van.
No, they would have had the mercy of at least a tombstone, a casket, a proper burial. Not this sick dash to the isolated wilderness,
where they'd have to dig their own brother's grave, so that his body remain unviolated by the cruel human curiosity.
Donny bit back the obvious question of how long they had before Mikey's body started succumbing to the ravages of time.
His tortured thoughts were interrupted by Raphael's grunt and shifting in the corner. Raphael groaned against the metal, as he muttered,
and twitched awake.
Blinking, he winced as he straightened his legs, mindful of both Leo and carefully avoiding touching Mikey's pallet.
"Mornin'." It was a rough, scraped raw sound, nothing like his usual irritation.
"Good morning, Raphael. Did you get any rest?"
Raphael yawned, and clapped a hand over his mouth before answering Splinter with a hitch of his shoulder.
"I got some sleep, but not much. How ya doin', Donny?"
"I've been better, but I did sleep a little." Don's soft answer came as he resumed his unwilling stare at Mikey's body.
Raphael's eyes narrowed at some thought, before he quietly, brittly announced. "Mikey deserved better than this."
Splinter only stared at Raphael with wounded, wounded eyes. Donny only nodded, numbly.
Raphael's lip twisted in anguished, barely held back rage. "I mean...what the hell is this?" He flung a hand over Mikey's body, and let it drop back to his side.
"It shoulda been me. I'm the damn hothead, the one who's always getting into the fights..." His voice trailed off to bewildered silence.
"And Mikey dies from one hit...that's...that's just so damn ..wrong."
The words fell heavy, and shattered as his hands crept to his sais, and he hoisted one high, prong jutting skyward.
"When I get back, I'm killin' every one of those damn bastards."
"Raphael...my son..." Splinter's words dribbled into futile acceptance. The old rat only lay a paw over Raphael's wrist and gently forced him to lower the weapon.
"My son, you will have time afterwards to seek vengence. Please, focus on helping your broken brothers heal."
Raphael hissed, and choked, suddenly feeling the helpless rage surging like fire through his very bones. Splinter watched as the sais trembled, as Raphael bit off the words.
"I can't do that, Sensai. Not when those bastards are walking around free, while we're here burying our baby brother."
He turned to Splinter, as his eyes started spilling over. "Master Splinter, don't ask me to just let this go. Damn it, I can't!"
Splinter's paw was soft against his cheek, seeking and calming. It felt like home. "Raphael, my son. Killing others will not return Michelangelo to us. And there is not enough blood that can be spilled to make vengence possible."
Raphael went rigid at his touch, and snarled, "So now, what? We just forgive and forget and send 'em flowers? They killed Mikey,
Master! They-"
"Raphael!" Splinter's voice was sharp and sudden as being stabbed. Raphael shut his eyes, curled his arms against his heaving ribs,
tried to keep from crumbling into tears and sobs and screams.
"My son."
Raphael grit his teeth, swallowed, and forced himself to turn to Splinter. "I have already lost one son, and your brothers have already suffered more than they can bear. Please. Please do not force me to bury yet another of my children."