Part Three: - Search –

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What frightened me the most, at that time, was that- when I flashed my eyes wide open, I realized I was wide awake.

Right in front of me, was Raphael, head bandaged and body motionless.

I blinked once, twice, and then hesitated; not wanting to push myself up just yet, the nausea was thick, twisting and twirling like a wild tornado in the pit of my stomach. I was shivering, I didn't feel so good.

When I tried to move my hand, wanting to rub my weary, dry eyes, I felt a twitch at my fingertips, and I instantly stopped, dead in my tracks. Glancing over my laid figure, I saw that I was lying on my side, on a futon, right next to Raph's seeming-dead body, with the white bandages wrapped securely around his head, his chest rising and falling with his breath, if only faintly, as if ready to stop any second.

What startled me, was the fact I was holding his motionless hand.

His thumb twitched, but other than that, he made no move.

An uneasy shiver prickled my skin, and a chill grew in the pit of my stomach, and I wondered if the ice age had struck my guts, cause it felt too cold to move, and I knew if I had hackles, they would have stood up by now, all thanks to the eerie, uncomfortable chill that rattled my bones, prickled my skin and sent my other senses on a wild alarm.

Like a ghost, Raph's eyelids slid up slowly, reveling faded grey-black blurry orbs, and he opened his wide, lifeless, he turned his head to face me, when he turned his neck slightly, his lips curling slightly in a faint, toothy compassionate smile. All too suddenly, that little ruby-red droplet formed at the corner of his eye, before it gathered enough moist to drizzle it's way down his cheek.

I froze, unmoving, my body frozen in it's position.

It felt like death warmed over, when I shut my eyes tight, jerk-pushed myself up, releasing his hand, then flashed my eyes wide, gasping for air as if I had been suffocating, before jerking my head down, looking down at him. It was almost heart stopping, how he was back to his previous position, head upright and eyes closed, as if he hadn't really moved.

I felt the cold air enter my throat, and I realized I was gasping more urgently, with fear dancing in my mind, sucking in the air hungrily, and somehow, I weren't surprised if I had almost suffocated. The experience was startling, if not heart stopping, to the point of sheer horror, I didn't understand it, but once my heart stopped slamming violently against my plastron, I realized what I had just gone through.

"Leo?" I heard my brother call, "Hey, you're up!" the scrapping of his Bo staff was loud and clear on the concrete floor.

I eyed Donny, and his merry smile faded instantly, so I guessed I must have looked really terrible, "Yeah, I'm up."

"God, Leo; are you alright?" he asked worriedly, trudging towards me a little faster, "You look like death warmed over!"

I spared a weak smile, "Somehow, I think I have." I pushed my shaky feet off the floor, breathing in and out steadily, or trying to, anyway.

Don gave me a visual once over, before he frowned in concern, "Leo, you don't look too good, maybe you should lay down."

"Not now." I replied gently, swallowing a lump in my throat, "Maybe later." I gathered my courage, gave Raph's motionless body a quick glance, and then looked back at Don, "There- is something I need to do." I informed him while pushing my way past him.

"What? Cant it wait till tomorrow?" he argued gently.

"It can't wait." I replied, grabbing my swords from a nearby table, that Mike had probably un-strapped when I fell asleep, "I need to go retrieve something." I told him as I made my way towards the exit.

"Retrieve something?" he echoed, confused, "Like what? From where?"

"You'll know once I'm back." I huffed slightly, buckling my belt and making sure it was on tight.

"Leo, I think it would be wise if you stay with Raph," he argued again, pleadingly, "He needs you."

"Raph asked me to do this." I replied kindly, and at his confused expression, I smiled, "Don't worry, I wont take long."

Don blinked once, twice, then his eyes widened and he glanced down at Raph's motionless, expressionless body, a look of realization was clear on his drained features; he paused, watching our seemingly dead brother breath, in a slow rhythmic tempo, before looking back at me, "Be careful." He pleaded quietly, uncertainty and fear tainted his voice.

I simply nodded, before I made my way out of the makeshift lair, through the sewer entrance, then into the depth of New York City sewers; registering the fact that somehow, Raphael, in his own way, had requested- he asked me to fetch his items from both homes, and I accepted, with no words spoken. To be honest, I was curious as to what those items were, but it also worried me.

Somehow, I was afraid to find out.

But… as my brother's last request, I will honor him, by retrieving these items.

….

I was scared, mighty scared.

It had been months since I've come to the old lair.

It's been a very long time since I've come here, not since Raph and I came here to pick out things, in order to move into the new lair. I remember that day, Raph was very upset, he loved our old, small, narrow yet humble home, more than the new, wide open one, though I never could understand how he is to prefer a small cluttered room, than a wide clean one, I never asked.

The main entrance of the lair had been demolished, due to the fact that there were no beams supporting the roof, after Stockman's mousers tore them down, and also, the path was blocked, allowing no entrance to those from the outside, nor an exit to those who might have been trapped inside, so I had to take the open street, and use another manhole to get into the liar, just like we did the first time it happened.

Why didn't I use the sewer slider, like Raph and I did the last time?

Well, first of all, the sewer slider had received a terrible punch from one of Karai's mega-robots, splitting the vehicle in half, trashing all the work Don had spent during the past year in a mere second; and then there is the fact that I cannot risk the chance of riding it here, the engine is too loud, it might attract attention, not to mention that the only entrance to the lair, via the sewer slider's path, would be on the other side of the canal, and I don't want to waste my time going around the block just to get through that entrance.

Anyway, I'm just going in to get Raph's notebooks, so why the complications?

With a soft breath, I huffed, gathering my courage, and entered the sewer tunnel through the manhole; once reaching the bottom of the ringed ladder, I shuffled my feet cautiously down the tunnel, though highly doubtful of being followed.

Entering the now bare, dusty and neglected, old, unfurnished lair, I stood at the entrance, watching the dust pick up as I passed by, eyeing the rubble of what was once our beloved home.

Wistfully, I smiled, recalling all the wonderful memories of growing up here, the joys and the pains, mostly tail-cheek pains, with my dear brothers and father, there were so many things we've done here, happy and sad memories, and somehow, I think I understand how Raph feels, not wanting to leave our very first home, the place that had always and forever been our home.

Parting away from the place was hard, but unavoidable, especially in out situation back then.

Bitterness prickled my taste buds, as heat pricked the back of my eyes.

'God, please don't let me be one brother less.' I prayed quietly.

Entering the empty, unfurnished, dust covered living room, I gazed across the brick-lined walls, my memory already filling the gaps of where a certain piece of furniture was; the television and the small coffee table, that armchair Sensei had found, patched up and put for us to use, his favorite rocking chair, the random and mismatched rugs he had gathered that furnished out floor, the lamps and various items he collected throughout our years of growing up, the simple yet colorful lamps placed around the lair, shedding their soft, shy lights for us to see.

Inhaling the scent of dust and debris, I furrowed, snorting in distaste, wrinkling my snout a bit. I was hoping for a more welcoming scent, but I guess we've been gone for so long, the scent of Sensei's incense had long gone and vanished from the air. I remember he used to light it every so few days, usually once or twice a week, it used to chase away bugs, especially flies and mosquitoes.

I wondered if that had anything to do with Raph disliking bugs.

Smiling weakly at the memory, I ventured deeper into the old lair, and a tad bit nervous, stepped into what once, used to be our bedroom. It wasn't really big, it was actually a very wide open room with four beds in the middle, about a space of a foot or two in-between, there were two dressing cabinets on the far side of the room, and a study desk with a small library on the other side.

I remember, Donny used to spend most of his time here, or at the kitchen able, toying with different items, trying to figure out how they work, or to try and fix them, in order for us to use them for our own benefit.

I froze, my eyes detecting my target.

On the far corner of the room, was that lone, discolored brick, and a cold chill caused goose bumps to appear on my hairless skin.

Of course, Mike prefers to call then turtle bumps, I don't know why; when I asked him, he said 'Why do they call them goose bumps, anyway?' and honestly, I had no answer, but he did get in trouble when he, after watching one of them cartoons, the grey rabbit and the redheaded, long mustache, short tempered, gun welding pirate, he dare asked Sensei.

'What's a cotton pickin' vermin? And what's a land lubber? Who's Davy Jones? Why a locker? What's cotton? Is it like cotton candy? Does it taste good? Does it grow in the sewers? What's it look like?' and so on.

I figure it's where Raph got his colorful language later on, huh.

With a sigh, I pushed myself forewords, stepping lightly on the dusty floor, barely leaving my footprints behind. Reaching the corner, I licked my lips, a little uneasy, and twitched my snout, the dust was picking up when I touched the wall, and it tickled my snout, forcing me to sneeze twice, before sniffling, glaring at the dusty, dingy old floor.

I eyed the brick, and pressing gently on it, it slid into the gapping hole, so all I had to do was pull it out through the rectangle opening it created, placed it on the floor, and swallowed uneasily at the sight of the four notebooks and paper crane. Gently, I reached in and took them out, wondering curiously why Raph had not retrieved them when we first moved out.

I shrugged, he probably forgot all about them, I figure.

I picked up the white paper crane, set it aside, then glanced at the short, overused pencil, with teeth marks all over it, then at the four, puppy-eared, worn out, tape bind notebooks.

I blinked, for they were all quite similar in shape, size and color, not to mention they were equally, very frequently used, pretty obvious from their worn out condition, the numerous number of tape slapped to their sides, keeping the pages attached, one of the books was clearly ripped in half, then taped back together, maybe even numerous times, and I worried why, but the odd part, they were numbered, from one to four.

The first was in the worst condition compared to the fourth, so I'm guessing the first one got pretty abused, due to the frequent usage, and whatever Raph did with them, he obtained some sort of self control, as to not rip the other three apart, like he had obviously already done so to the first. Then again, I can't help but sense that they could very well be- journals?

'And since when, prey tell, did Raph ever start writing a journal?' I blinked, confused at the thought. After all, Raph always teased and mocked Mike about his diary, so why would Raph have one? 'Unless he was trying to hide the fact, that he had one, too?' I perked, now growing curious; wanting to read what was written in these books.

'Would he allow it?' I then thought, 'After all, when he showed you, every time you open one of them, you grow nauseous and black out.' I furrowed in concern, my thick, green fingers caressing the worn out paper cover gingerly, 'So maybe there is something in these books, I'm not supposed to read?' I wondered again.

I decided to go get the other notebook and cranes, from Raph's bedroom, in the Elentian lair, then head home, and give them to Sensei. If anyone should read these, it should be Sensei, and if allowed, I'd want to read them, too.

With that in mind, I carefully carried the four books in my hands, like a plate, the short pencil and paper crane sitting quietly on top.

My journey to our recently demolished lair was eventless and simple, and thankfully, there was no ambush laying in wait like the first time I arrived. I walked in, ignoring the rubble the best I could, ventured into Raphael's room, pushed the discolored brick, and it poked the one below it, pushing it outwards, so I tugged that one out, and took out the two paper cranes and notebook.

But then I froze, my eyes widening and my blood turning cold in my veins.

There was a red mask in the small gapping hole in the wall.

Hesitantly, I set the, now, five books, two pencils and three paper cranes on the floor, then placed the discolored brick near them, before eyeing the mask, where it lay still in the small gap in the wall.

I forcefully swallowed a hard, thick knot in my throat, and it pummeled into my stomach like a boulder with a sickening, cold splash. My heart sped a bit, same with my breathing, and I gathered my momentarily-shattered courage, and after a long moment of faltering hesitation, I braced myself, reaching into the gap, I gently gripped the fragile piece of old, tattered, red cloth, almost as if it would jump up on it's own and bite me!

To my surprise, there was a paper tied on and at the tail-end of the bandana.

Unsure, I tugged at it, and it easily spilled out of the delicate knot it was tied with, and the paper was dusty, rolled over and clearly had been once tied too tightly, for it's center area was a bit wrinkled, so I carefully unrolled the small slip of paper and started reading.

"To my dear, beloved brothers and father: When you find this message, I'm guessing something had either happened to me, or I'm dead, or if it's you Mike, you had better get your ass out of my room, before I find you and skin you alive!" I smiled faintly.

"If I'm dead, then all I ask is to be remembered. If something bad had happened to me, tell Leo is was never his fault, the idiot pretty much blames himself for everything! I bet if the sky started falling, and we asked why, he'd start apologizing and claim he meditated for too long of something!" I arched a very un-amused brow ridge.

"And besides! I bet I probably jumped head first into trouble, anyway." I paused for a moment, frowning slightly, wondering if Raph knew just how ironic that last statement sounded.

"On the other hand, if it's you Mike, and you're reading this, then you had better have a good reason to be snooping in my room, chucks-for-brains, because I don't think it's funny!" I smiled a little, thinking that- Yes, Mike would snoop around Raph's room, usually to rig a prank of some sort, or to try to find something to tamper with.

"At any case; if it's one of the first two, that I'm either dead and six feet under already, or something really bad had happened, probably because of my stupidity, then tell master Splinter that I love him, and I'm sorry for being such a pest, I'm sure it would have spared him all the grey hair I caused him." I paused, blinking.

"There are four journals, hidden in the old bedroom at the old lair, they're hidden in the wall at the far west-northern corner, hidden in a small safe-deposit-like gap in the wall."

"Please, whoever is reading this, don't read them, just give them to Sensei, when he's done, please burn them." I frowned, wondering why he would request such a thing.

"This journal here, is my very first journal since our departure from the old lair, and residence in the new one, consider it a new beginning. It's more like a stress relief, really. Less detailed than the first four, and less offensive. The previous four contain way too many personal thoughts, and no censoring, I'm afraid." I arched a brow, wondering wearily what he could have written.

"For whoever is reading this, you can not read my previous four journals, trust me, they're ugly! And, because I was young, bitter and selfish, and wrote down too many angry things, things I am too embarrassed to remember, ashamed to share, and yet needed them to remind myself of what I had lost, and what I have gained."

"On the other hand, it's okay to read this one, but only after you ask master Splinter for permission! It's up to you if you wish to burn this along with the other four or not. As for the paper cranes, well- I think you'll understand only if you read all five journals, so I think it will be for the best if you just keep them around."

"I know that this might sound strange, coming from a bonehead like me, but I love you guys, and I'm glad I had you for brothers, and master Splinter, you have always been a father to me, and I'm sorry I never managed to reach your expectations."

I froze, there were tears blurring my eyes, there was just- there was something about the last statement that bit me, and it bit me hard! It stung! I stopped and rubbed them away, sniffling.

"Whew! Well that was a massive piece to write! Heck, maybe I should have been a novelist? … Nah!" I chuckled, giving a negative shake, "Anyway, at any rate, since I've gotten this far, I might as well just admit it! You have always been my family, and I love you guys, each and every one of you! Yes, even you Mike, but if I'm not dead, you had better not rub it in my face, or I'm cutting you out of my will! I mean it! Well, maybe as soon as I have it written, someday."

"Anyway, take care, Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and my beloved father, master Hamato Splinter. I'll never forget you. Sign, with love, the bonehead, Raphael."

"PS: if that last part crashed the sap-scale, feel free to shoot me, because I'm probably already dead."

"PSS: Edit! Tell April that if she ain't hooking up with Casey, then I'm sure Don would be more than willing to take a shot at it, the romantic relationship, I mean; all he needs is the ego boost! Seriously, sometimes he needs a good kick up the ass to get his engine started!"

"PSSS: What the shell does PS stand for, anyway? And just how many S's can I add for that matter? Not a clue, but if it makes you laugh, then I wouldn't really care. I love you."

Despite the smile spreading on my face, the heat warming my chest, neck, and face, the faintest chuckle bubbling in my throat, building a tremor in my ribcage, the hot, bitter, salty tears trickled down like a small drizzle, tapping my thigh gently as they fell, sliding off my cheeks, their soft, almost soundless pitter patter was deaf to my ears.

The chuckle soon morphed into a sorrowful howl, and I curling over myself, hugging the paper tightly, clutched tightly in both hands, my forehead pressing to the cold, hard, heartless floor, and I was reduced to a sobbing heap again.

I was losing a brother, there is no denying it.

Raph is dying, and he knows it.

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A/N: review please!