A/N: Ootochan means "Daddy".


When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.
-
David, Psalms 138: 3 NIV


Chapter 29 –Abba, Father-
~~~

"What? Master, you can't be serious! They need me…"

Even as the words left him, the look in the turtle's eyes as he met his father's dark gaze told the rat he knew he was losing his case.

"Enough. The decision is made." Splinter's voice brooked no argument.

Splinter had begun packing the instant Michelangelo had come to tell him the dire news about his daughters in law, leaving Leonardo to comfort a devastated Donatello. He'd known immediately what would need to be done. He, and two of his sons would return to the city.

I only hope Donatello is strong enough. I do not wish for another of my sons to be injured in this battle, mused Splinter.

He turned from the items he'd been laying out on the bed and took the few steps necessary to cross the small bedroom he'd been using during their stay at the farmhouse. He clasped Leonardo's large hand in both his own, holding it firmly even as he felt it tremble.

"My son," he began. He felt another tremor run through Leonardo. He stopped, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Finally he opened his eyes and looked up to meet Leonardo's gaze. The hurt, anger and confusion in his son's stare nearly undid Splinter's resolve.

"Leonardo," said Splinter, deliberately keeping his voice gentle. "Do you wish for me to allow Raphael to come as well?"

"What? No, Master, Raph is injured. He can't fight…" Leonardo sounded shocked. He stared at the rat, confused and still pleading.

"No more can I allow you to enter into battle, my son," said Splinter gently.

Leonardo made a hurt noise and tried to pull his hand away from his sensei. Splinter was strongly reminded of a time when his son was very small and he'd had to pull a splinter of wood from the boy's palm. Then, like now, he'd had to be firm with his son, to draw out the offending bit before it could cause an infection.

Now the rat held on. "Leonardo. My son. Kneel." He gave the command sternly, knowing the ingrained discipline would help the turtle accept his decision now, even with the turmoil he could feel boiling within his spirit. Splinter reached up and gently brushed his thumb against Leonardo's cheek. "I will go. I will take your brothers and retrieve my daughter. I know this is difficult for you."

"Father… This is Bishop. You can't…"

"Leonardo!" Splinter's reprimand had the turtle flinching, though the rat had never been of the habit of striking his sons in anger. "You will stay. You will meditate. You will seek the healing your spirit needs and you will protect your brother and my daughters. Your job is to be here and to protect our human friends."

Leo started to speak once more, but he lifted his eyes and looked into Splinter's uncompromising gaze. Splinter watched, heartbroken, as something in the turtle cracked.

"Yes, Splinter-sama," said Leo, his voice dulled with pain. "As you wish." Splinter brushed his hand against Leonardo's cheek once more, but the turtle turned his face away. He got slowly to his feet and without another word, left the room.

***

Gene Spencer watched the two turtles pile into their van. Donatello was silent and grim. Even Michelangelo's wisecracks were silent. As Splinter walked, past, Gene reached out to touch his shoulder hesitantly. The rat turned to face him, a question in his dark eyes.

"We'll be praying for you, Sir," said Gene quietly.

"Your thoughts are appreciated," said Splinter formally. Gene saw a flash of despair in the rat's eyes. "I fear this will be a difficult mission," he said slowly. "My sons are used to fighting as a team, a unit. We are facing one of our most potent enemies, with two of them missing." He looked into Gene Spencer's eyes. "We will not return empty-handed. Do not worry, Pastor Spencer-san. Your wife is safe with our friend Leatherhead. April and Casey will take you back to the city to reunite with her when it is safe to return and our injured here are adequately healed."

Gene blinked. Did the rat mean…? Looking into the black eyes, he knew. Splinter was telling him the little group setting out might not return at all. Splinter nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the understanding.

"Sir, are you sure leaving Leonardo behind is a good idea?" he asked. "I don't want to interfere, but it seems as if you need all the help you can get…"

Splinter shook his head. "My son is deeply troubled," he said softly. "In order to fight, he must be focused. His spirit is not ready to do battle."

"And you can't wait for Raphael's leg to heal?"

"Pastor Spencer, if it had been your life-mate who had been taken, could any force stop you from attempting to retrieve her?"

Gene blinked in understanding. "I guess not."

"I do not wish for my son Donatello to make a foolish attempt on his own. It is better that we go as a family."

"I see."

"Pastor Gene Spencer-san," said Splinter gravely. "May I ask you a favor in our absense?"

"Certainly, Mr. Hamato."

"Then I would like to ask that you would look after my son."

The dark eyes met Gene's blue ones. Gene didn't have to ask who Splinter meant. "I will."

Splinter nodded his thanks.

"Don't worry, Sir. Leonardo's got a good family supporting him. He'll get through this."

Splinter's gaze softened. "Goodbye, Pastor Gene Spencer," he said. He gave the startled man a brief, but deep, bow. "May your God go with us all today."

Gene recovered and returned the bow. "Godspeed, Sir," he said.

Splinter flashed what might have been a smile before climbing up into the van. In a cloud of dust, they were gone.

God, go with them indeed, Gene prayed silently. Keep them safe.

***

Leonardo watched as the van pulled out of the driveway. He felt as though his very soul was driving off down the road.

How could they? He's taking them to their death. The words ate at his heart. It's my fault. If I were stronger, if I hadn't failed, I'd be going with them.

No! he responded, desperate to still the ugly voice. No. Splinter wouldn't do this if he thought he couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle Bishop. He's always been able to handle whatever's been thrown at us. He can do this. They can do this. Even without me.

He turned away from the window. A short knife rested on the dresser, glinting in the sun. There is no honor in death... I couldn't commit seppuku... I don't have Splinter's permission and there is no one to finish the ceremony; I can't ask that of my brothers... Or am I just making excuses because I'm too cowardly to take course that would restore my honor?

Suddenly the small room was suffocating, closing in around him. The fury, guilt and anxiety for his brothers warred in his chest. Leonardo was certain he would burst if he didn't get out of that room.

He thundered down the stairs without regard for stealth or grace. Raphael was rising off the couch as he raced through the living room.

"What da shell, Fearless?" yelled his startled brother. Leo ignored him and kept on running.

"Leonardo!" Gene Spencer's voice slid over Leo's mind without registering.

"Leo!" He ignored April's anguished call as well. He heard her light footsteps racing after him and sped up, desperate to get away, to escape. He kept on running until the only sounds around him were those of the leaves and the small forest animals skittering into hiding at the approach of the phantom figure through the trees.

Exhausted, Leonardo fell to his knees in the leaf litter, panting. He gasped as his burning lungs drew in the much-needed air, but he couldn't hold it in long enough to get any oxygen from it. It rushed out again, in and out until he was dizzy with his efforts to breathe.

Slow down, my son. The familiar reminder echoed in his mind. And yet… there was something different about it this time. His father's voice sounded deeper, wilder, as if it were blending with a strong wind. Leonardo's head snapped up and he stared around the silent trees. The woods around him were absolutely still. Not even a leaf trembled. The air was cool and light on his skin. It was as if everything were holding its breath, waiting.

Trembling, Leonardo moved from his knees into a lotus position. Something… someone was pressing on his mind, pushing everything else back, insistent and strangely welcoming. He could feel a Presence… something larger than himself, something he'd felt before in meditation, but had never addressed, or even acknowledged as he'd worked to empty himself, to become one with his surroundings. He'd always simply felt it as the natural ebb and flow of the universe and hadn't given it much thought.

Who are you?

I AM.

Leonardo trembled, but not with fear. An excitement was growing in him… a longing mixed up in sadness and joy and anticipation. He'd never felt both so completely vulnerable and so safe at the same time, save perhaps when he'd been very small and fallen asleep in his father's lap, snuggled into the rat's robes.

This was different, though… both more frightening and exhilarating.

Who are you? he asked again.

I AM the beginning and the end.

Who are you? Leo's mouth moved this time, the words coming out with barely a sound. The breeze picked up. Leonardo was aware of the touch of the air against his face.

I AM. The voice was a whisper now. Gentle, caressing.

Once before he'd heard the tone. "You may call me Splinter."

...Father?

The thought was involuntary, but the answer was firm.

Yes.

Leonardo felt himself shaking.

Splinter is my father.

Yes. And so am I.

And Leonardo knew. The ancient text he'd studied with interest… The long talk he'd had with Gene about the history of this God… He was in the presence of something ... completely other. He felt the beginnings of fear. Splinter had warned them all about the dangers of dealing with beings who inhabited the spiritual plane.

This felt different from anything he'd ever encountered, though. He felt no hostility from the Being. It simply… was. He felt it had no agenda; that it would not try to manipulate or control him. He felt it as the familiar undercurrent that marked the spiritual plane, a steady hum of power at rest. Now it felt more focused, as if it had become aware of him, though he was certain at the same time it had always known him and indeed knew him better than he knew himself.

What do you want with me?

Leonardo. You came here seeking Me.

Leo was shocked. I wasn't… He trailed off, trying to make sense of it all. The text he'd read just last night ran through his mind.

"There is none that is righteous; no, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. … Their feet are swift to shed blood. Ruin and misery mark their ways, and the way of peace they do not know. There is no fear of God before their eyes."*

Gene's explanation when Leo'd questioned him about the passage seemed to make only partial sense, that this "God" was so big and so other that no one could be "good enough" on their own to live up to His standard, that everyone, even "good" people, fell short of His standard of morality. Gene's explanation of God as the embodiment of Good made more sense to Leonardo than the idea of Him as a Person, until Gene talked about a "Son", a savior who came to give His life to pay for the first sin… the first step away from God, the one choice which had led to the broken nature of Creation, allowing evil to enter the world with a single decision, the first bite of the fruit.

Somewhere soon after that the conversation had degenerated into an argument between Michelangelo and Donatello about apples and snakes, but now the words echoed in Leonardo's mind. Swift to shed blood…

The crimson puddle that spread out over the floor as the light left the man's eyes filled his memory and Leonardo cried out in sudden grief and fear. What he'd been about to do... There is no honor in death. The guilt he'd been suppressing rose up in a fresh fury, threatening to crush him under its weight.

He was hurting her…but I acted dishonorably… Splinter taught me better…

The only answer was silence… a waiting, as if the world were frowning. Sobs shook Leo. He threw himself to the ground, abandoning all attempts at meditation, but he could not escape the feeling that Someone was watching him… disapproving eyes seemed to bore into his very soul. He didn't feel fear so much as a deep sense of having disappointed. He curled himself into a ball, shivering as if he were freezing, though the afternoon sun was warm, filtering through the trees.

Leonardo. My son.

I have failed again. I have dishonored Splinter's teachings…

Leonardo. Do you believe in Me?

Leo's confusion and pain grew, the guilt swelling in his gut, choking him.

Do you believe in Me? The question came again, gentle, probing.

I believe in Honor.

The turtle swallowed hard. Honor. The word meant so much more than personal honor. Good… everything good. In the laughter of children, there was honor. In a crisp spring rain, honor could be found. In battle, with his brothers by his side, there was honor.

Leonardo.

I have no honor… How can I cause this harm to my family?... How can I live without honor?

Leonardo. My son. I AM honor.

Leo's breath caught in his chest. Suddenly tears were pouring, burning in rivers down his cheeks. He stripped off his mask and laid prone, his face in the grass, shaking with sobs.

Leonardo. The voice whispered.

The terrified turtle felt the gentlest breeze touch his skin. He was vividly aware of everything, every rustle of every leaf, the minute skittering of some small animal across the leaves, though his eyes were tightly closed. Leo whimpered and covered his head with his hands, curling in on himself and… waited. He could do nothing else.

I so loved you that I came, so if you believe in Me, you will not die.

The voice grew to a roar. The wind screamed through the trees. The branches swayed and creaked. Leonardo was certain he would be swept up, tossed on the wind like a speck of dust, lost in oblivion… and in that moment, he didn't care. If only he could be rid of the crushing weight of guilt and shame that was consuming him. If only he could go back and change that one moment, make a different choice... The wind grew louder. Cracks like thunder echoed.

Help! Sensei! Father! Otoochan… save me.

In an instant, all was silent. The world was still, quiet, peaceful, at rest.

Sobs shook Leonardo, but now the tears were a relief, welling up in him and spilling over, the horrible lump of guilt, the grief and fear, dissolving as they ran down his cheeks. He felt released, free. The peace engulfed him and he knew nothing more.


*Romans 3:11,15 NIV