Returned quicker than last time, didn't I? (giggles) But I'm not hearing any complaints! (silence) At least, I hope I'm not.

Ya know, I just remembered that at some point which I can no longer remember, I said I'd be done with this story by the end of May. Two months after May, I'm starting to doubt that theory. Now I'm aiming for the end of August. Wish me luck!

All right then, everyone glued to their chairs and ready to read? Then by all means, read!

Disclaimer: On the day that I own the TMNT, run for your lives, 'cause it's a sign of the Apocalypse!

&&&&&

He heard guitars. Heading back to Leo's room, Donny looked in to see that Mikey had brought some of the CD's Leo had grown attached to. Mikey turned his head to meet his eyes, but didn't say anything. Don just shrugged.

Mike smiled, then frowned. "Isn't it Raph's turn?"

"I'll take it." He paused. "Maybe you should talk to him."

"Raph?"

Donny nodded. "He's been doing the self-blaming thing. You're the one he should talk to."

"Don't mean to prove ya wrong, bro, but my superior attitude doesn't necessarily rub off on him."

It got him smiling, a little. "Just do it, Mikey. Maybe he won't beat you up."

"Very reassuring, Donny." Mikey shook his head as he headed out the door, turning back once to look at Leo, then turning to Don. "He likes the seventh song best."

The purple-banded turtle nodded slowly. His younger brother left. When he was gone, Donny turned to Leo, whose fever had eased him into a state of semi-consciousness, if you could call it that.

And then somehow he knew. He knew Leo was fighting a battle within himself; seeing and hearing things he was afraid of, a person he wanted to but couldn't avoid.

Don thought back to what he'd just read. He sat down in the chair they'd put next to Leo's bed and leaned closer to his elder brother. "His name's Logan. Leo, you don't have to be like him if you don't want to. You're the one who makes the decision, not him." He whispered.

Looking at him, for a moment, he thought he saw a small bit of comprehension flash across his brother's features, but it was gone before he could confirm it.

He sat there for a few more seconds, then got up to fetch a damp cloth. Leo had an internal battle to fight. Don would do what he could for him on the outside.

&&&&&

It wasn't hard finding Raphael. You just had to follow the steady beat of the sound of fists making vociferous contact with a punching bag.

Mikey walked to the dojo, a task so regular now, he didn't even need to think about it. He arrived just in time to see his red-clad brother hit the bag hard enough to knock it off its chain.

"Jeez, Raph." He tried to joke. "What'd the punching bag ever do to you?"

Quickly dashing any cheerfulness Mikey may have had left with one glare, Raph walked over to his latest victim, probably trying to decide if it was worth pummeling again. "What do ya want, Mike?"

"Nothing." The younger brother offered quietly. "Don took your shift."

Although it was a punching bag, Raph had never found a problem with kicking it when he was angry.

"What's your problem, Raph?" Mikey blurted, surprising the both of them.

The temperamental turtle just stared at him for a few seconds. "To you guys? Probably everything."

Mikey shook his head. "You're just as stubborn as Leo."

That made him pause. For a moment, Mike even thought he saw a faint smile. But if that's what it was, it was gone almost immediately.

Raph left the punching bag on the floor. "It was my fault, ya know."

"How?"

"I took you and Donny out into the sewers, and Leo came lookin' for us-"

"That's not what I meant, Raph." The orange-banded turtle interrupted. "How's it your fault, and yours alone? Me and Donny came with you, too." His voice became quiet. "Take out the 'y', bro. It's not your fault; it's ours."

For a moment, the two of them were quiet, quite odd, considering who they were. But then Mikey decided to speak again. "Actually, it was that one kid's fault. He's the one who killed himself right in front of Leo."

"Anything to get the guilt off us, huh?"

"But it's true. The stupid jerk didn't have to do that right in front of him."

Raph was quiet again. "Did ya see the way Leo looked when he… ya know, when he had my sai?"

Mikey nodded. "I was hopin' to forget. What about it?"

"Ya ever wondered if that's what that boy looked like?"

Silence between them. Then, "What're you getting at?"

"We almost lost Leo because of something stupid I said. He said the kid had brothers. What if his brothers said something stupid, like I did?"

It wasn't a matter of 'What if', like Raph had phrased it, Michaelangelo knew. He remembered what his brother had told them, after Leo had told Raph. That's exactly what had happened. "Are you worried that he was right?"

"I told Leo we weren't like them. I don't wanna prove my words wrong later on." He looked at his feet. "Mike, tell me we aren't like them."

"We aren't."

"How do ya know?"

He thought it through. He'd had his questions, too, after all. "We tried to stop him. From the way I got it, that kid had been down here several times. His brothers must've not been doing a good job taking care of him if they just let him leave like that."

Watching his brother's eyes, Mikey saw that he thought he was right, to some extent, at least. It'd suit for now.

Raph walked up to him then, and did something that surprised him. He hugged him. "Thanks." Was all he said, then he turned and walked away.

Mikey stood still for a moment before following him.

&&&&&

That same smile never faltered, even after its owner was dead and gone. It had haunted him ever since that day nine years ago, well, until the point he repressed the memory; but now it was here again, more real than any twisted picture his memory could have painted.

Leo didn't let the boy speak another word. "You said the dead are gone forever. They don't come back." Even at his outburst, the smile didn't fade. "You're not real."

He'd meant it as an accusation, maybe even something to reassure himself with. Apparently, the dead teenager didn't care. He laughed. "I said you were quick; several times, I believe."

"No. Only once."

The boy just shrugged; continued to stare at him. The eyes… they tore through him like they had that day, long ago. How'd he do it? How'd he see every detail the heart tried so desperately to hide? How could-

"How could you do that?" Leo blurted out. Fingers spasmodically clenching at his sides, the thought sprang upon him in anger. Not necessarily at this person before him, but mostly he felt weak, like a child, as he said it.

"Do what?" The boy asked calmly.

"How could you do that… to a little kid? Would you have killed yourself if my brothers were up there instead of me? How could you do that to someone so small; so…"

"Vulnerable?"

Leo looked up. Vulnerable? Maybe-

"Yes, vulnerable." The boy interrupted his thoughts. "Vulnerable. Small and weak… like you are now."

A questioning, and quite confused, look from the blue-clad turtle furthered his explanation. "Look at yourself, Leo."

He already was. And he didn't like what he was seeing.

Small hands. Perfectly normal for his body, but that was a body he'd outgrown almost a decade ago. Somehow, like in his recurring and twisted nightmarish memories, he'd become a six-year-old again, with the knowledge of his older self.

Looking back up at the boy, he was surprised to find that there was no smile on his face.

Like his insides had been the victim of a hurricane, the eye of the storm passed over his soul, and all was calm. As quickly as the fact that he'd become a child again had appeared to him, he became a teenager again.

"There…" the other spoke softly. If Leo hadn't known better; almost soothingly.

The turtle suppressed the urge to ask him what had happened. For all he knew, the kid was just trying to distract him from everything else that was on his mind. "You didn't answer my question."

"Don't you wanna know what happened to you?"

"Yes." He paused. "But I want to know this first."

The boy sighed; looked down, looked up. "I can't answer that."

"Why not?" Leo shot back, barely a second after his companion had finished speaking, but still with a sense of ease.

A pair of brown eyes blinked at him in slight surprise. "I'm not real."

It only took a moment for him to realize what he was implying. "You're not him." Leo moaned softly.

"Sorry."

"So you can't answer any of my questions? You can't tell me anything about your life, or what made you think I was like you?"

"Nope. I can theorize, but that's it." The smile returned. "But my, you figured that out quick. I said you were a clever one, if only it was once; that day on the-"

"I remember." The blue-banded turtle massaged his forehead with one hand. He whispered to himself. "Now I do."

Here, Leo found another surprise. The boy now actually looked remorseful. "I may not be real," he spoke in atone no higher than the turtle, "but I am sorry about what I did."

Without his knowledge, his hand flew down to his side; a green blur against the incredible darkness that only existed here in his mind. "Why can you remember that?"

"Because you do. I remember every detail of that day; each one you picked up, even subconsciously, as a six-year-old child."

"Of course." Leo said. How he wished the suffocating darkness would completely engulf him. How he wanted to disappear; go anywhere, even death, to avoid the memory. The boy was right. He was weak. He felt that way at least.

The next time he opened his mouth, a childish voice came out. He was six… again. As much as it bothered him, he ignored it. "Why do you have to be everything I want to forget? A lot of help you are. You can't even tell me your name."

Wishing he was fifteen once more, but not minding staying this young forever in exchange for escape from this hell, Leo watched the boy cock his head, as if someone was speaking to him from far away.

"Maybe I can't," he said, almost smugly; "but I bet you I know someone who can."

Before Leo could ask who, a voice, faint and distant to his ears spoke to him. "His name's Logan. Leo, you don't have to be like him if you don't want to. You're the one who makes the decision, not him."

You know him; you know him! A little voice rattled off inside his skull. The more he tried to place that voice though, the more his brain hurt.

Donny. Leo smiled, proud of his little achievement. He remembered his brother's name. The joy was short-lived, however. Guilt quickly overcame him.

"The key word is remembered, huh?" The boy, whom he now knew as Logan, asked. "That's something you could've- no, should've known without thinking about it, isn't it?"

"Shut up."

"I'm just trying to tell you what's going on."

Replaying the correspondence, Leo found something odd. Looking at Logan, and quickly realizing it was only of benefit to the latter, he gave him a sign to continue. He didn't until Leo became his normal age once more.

"Yes, I can hear every word you're thinking. This is your mind, after all. Your thoughts might as well be vocalized here; they are to me." He didn't wait for the blue-clad turtle to speak. "I know. Not much privacy, is there?"

Leonardo chose not to answer that. He'd keep whatever composed disposition he had left.

"Figured that out too, huh?"

"Figured what out?"

"The calmer you are; the more cheerful you are, the lower your chances are of becoming a child here." Logan gestured to the empty, blackened space around them. "You spend a lot of time here. This is where every thought of guilt, sorrow, anger, loneliness, unconfidence, you name it, all negative emotions; this is where they lie. Even your sinister thoughts. You do have them."

The thought angered him, but he cooled himself down. He didn't want to become a child again. So this is where my evil lies? What makes you think I'm here so often? Leo thought to himself, testing the boy's words.

"Okay, I didn't mean evil. It's more like your thoughts of anguish. But don't make me answer that question, Leo." Logan retorted. "You know yourself at least that well."

"I may come here a lot, but I'm not here all the time. And you've never been here, so why should I believe you?"

"Leo, look around." Logan smiled, but it was a sad one. "I said this was your dark side. It may be what makes it so bleak, but it is not the pain you want to inflict on others, but most of all, yourself; it's not the criminal within you."

Slowly, he began to understand what he was getting at. But he didn't speak, didn't think, fearful of the idea being true.

Logan obviously was one of those people more interested in the harsh truth than a little compassion. "This may be the dark side of your mind," he paused, "but I am the darkness within you."

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Well, there's another chapter down; the one that was supposed to be the last of this fine story, but is not. Once again, I was kinda short. I must apologize. Next one will be longer, I promise!

Now, I have a need of you, my loyal fans. Inumaru12 has brought up a very important matter for me to consider…

Should there or should there not be a sequel to Suicide?

I have an idea for one, but it all depends on whether or not you guys want it. I'm personally afraid of sequels. It's like with movies; so often it ruins the original. But I'm willing to do my best, if you want one.

Seriously guys, I can't write the next chapter unless you put your word in. There are two different ways for me to end this, both like a good story and without a cliffhanger, but if you want a sequel, something simply cannot happen here and must not be allowed to enter the next chapter.

So tell me: To write a sequel, or not to write a sequel? Thatis the question. And I leave it to you to decide. Most votes win, so if I get eight reviewers who want it and seven who don't, it means you got one!

Please review! Tell me how the chapter was and if there should be more to come! Thank you!