Author's Note: In this chapter, I wrote about death in a very generic sense, because the focus here was far more on grief than the matters of the afterlife. That being said, this is not necessarily a religious fic, even though it is written by a religious person. I know that there are many who fear death, avoid thinking about it, or spend their lives trying to distract themselves from the irrevocable fact that one day, they will die as well. The fact is, I will be spending far more time on the other side of the sky far more than I will be spending down here, and I only know this because I trust Christ. That peace is available to anybody who asks for it. That being said, on with the fic….

Raphael eyed Mikey's scrawl, his heart clenching. He ran his eyes and fingers over the swirling penmanship, the oddly legible script comforting. Mikey had always insisted on the odd loops and swirls of cursive writing. Ghosting a thumb over where Mikey had penned his name, Raphael slowly reread the letter again.

Leave it to Mikey to find a way to comfort him, even now. And bless him for it, God knew Raph needed it now.

Reverently, he spread the letter out on the table, smoothing it flat with shaking hands, as he swallowed hard. Turning to his living family, he choked, but managed to speak.

"I think…" he paused, voice gruff and on the verge of fracturing. Swallowing again, he plunged on," I think that Mikey would of wanted you guys to hear this."

He felt Splinter's gentle paw over his quaking shoulder, and a quiet whisper. "My son, what Michelangelo wrote in his letter is for you alone. Please do not feel compelled to share that unless you truly wish to."

Raphael shrugged. "There's some things that Mikey wrote just to me, but the rest…" he saw Leo's nearly pleading expression, and Don's crumbling into yet more tears. Hell, anything their brother left behind was sacred now.

Grunting, Raphael finally rose from his slump against the wall. And then, he carefully gathered up the letter and turned away from Mikey's body. It would have been too damn hard to read his brother's last words facing his corpse.

"The rest is for all of us. Not just me." Raphael said, softly, as he cleared his throat. The gentle, expectant hush now filled the room as Raphael hesitated. He had always hated reading out loud, embarrassed at how his thick voice and accent could mangle the most elegant phase into almost grunting. Considering the hell that he and his family had been through over the last week, reading a letter to them was a bitterly small task.

"Raphael-

Well, bro, if you're reading this….first of all, let me say that I'm sorry."

Raphael halted to cobble together enough strength to force the words out.

"It's really, really strange, and sad, when I look back on my life…on us, and I see how many times I used that word. I always said sorry for screwing something up, or something else that I never meant to do. Sorry used to be my band-aide that I'd just slap over a mistake, and then expect everything to be okay again. And most of the time, that worked. But, since you're reading this, obviously, 'sorry' can't fix everything. But, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm sorry about leaving you like this, Raph. I am so sorry. For all the fights over the years, for all the times I annoyed you, and acted like a pain in the butt…I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

Raphael's tears trickled as he shook his head with a wet snort. "Damn it, Mikey….."

He scrubbed his face, and continued:

"Now, that I've got all the mushy stuff out of the way; let me tell you what I'm not sorry for. I don't regret one patrol, one time in the dojo, or one fight on the street. Even when I got hurt, or something bad happened, I always thought it was worth it. Even if we were never seen, or known, we were doing what was right, and that was always enough for me. It had to be. And, even if the final result was me exiting life a bit sooner than we all would have wanted….it was worth it to know that I did some good.

I'm not sorry for that can of ooze. You once told me that God has a sense of humor, and I always thought that our existence was proof of that. But, when God makes a family out of two humans, four baby turtles, and a rat, I know God has a good sense of humor.

I don't regret being mutated. I used to think what life would have been like without the ooze, and when I think that I could have missed out on you all? That I could have just lived in a little glass bowl, and died a normal death like any other turtle? Somehow, that's far more sad than saying good-bye. Sure, we wouldn't have known any of the 'human stuff,' like grief, or sadness. But that would have meant that we never would have known things like love, or smiles, or even pizza and nun chucks. We would have never become a family.

Raph, I know that you're going to take this hard-probably harder than Leo or Don. And I also know you're going to be mad as hell, and tempted to do something that seems like a really good idea, but will wind up hurting everybody else. Bro, I'm asking you from the bottom of my heart: please, please let it go this time.

Raph's snarled as the letter quaked and the words blurred.

I'd rather you be there-alive-for Splinter and Leo and Don, than get yourself killed.. It doesn't matter if you kill one, or a dozen, or all of them, Raph. It won't bring me back. It will never bring me back, and it will never be enough. So, Raph, please. Please stay alive and be there for the rest of the family. They're going to need you to get them through this. April and Casey need you. All the people in the future that you'll help and save need you. Remember that, Raph.

There's a couple of more mushy things that I'll say before I close. Sorry, bro….I know that I said I was through with it before.

Thanks. Thanks for all the times you saved my life, my butt, my weapons, my head..it's a long list, bro. You know that. Thanks for the late nights when we had our weird talks about life and the big things. Thanks for the times you saved the last piece of pizza, for all the birthdays when you got me comic books, and the times you snuck me a beer.-

Raph flushed at the last sentence, as Splinter raised an eyebrow.

"You gave alcohol to Michelangelo?"

Raph shrugged, awkwardly, as Splinter's mouth curled into a thin line of understanding.

"Never mind about that now, my son. Continue, please."

Raph heaved an inward sigh of relief, and did so.

For all the times that I just needed to talk, and you listened, and for the times that you laughed at my jokes, even if they were pathetic. Thanks for all the times you ate my cooking, and said that it didn't taste like complete garbage. And most of all, Raph, thanks for being my big brother. It wasn't always easy, I know. But, I always felt safer, just knowing that you were there to protect me. That was always enough for me. And now, I'm more safe up here than I ever would have been down there.

Remember this, Raph. One day-hopefully a very long time from now-we'll be together again. But until that day comes, live your life. Enjoy it. Don't spend all your time being pissed at the world. Believe me on this, bro. It's short, and it goes by fast. Don't waste it.

Finally, bro, believe me when I tell you I'm at peace, and I have no regrets. I didn't have long, but I had enough.

Love, Mikey..