A/N: - Well here's the next chapter of this story – a sad chapter, if I do say so myself, and I loved writing it as there's no violence. Thank-you to everyone who's reviewed this story so far! I love reading the reviews and they mean a lot to me – hope you like this and remember to review at the end of the chapter! Enjoy…

I'm sorry I haven't managed to write a Christmas special this year but I have a few ideas for an Easter special when it comes so hopefully that will make up for it…so without any further delay, here's my next chapter and I just want to say to everyone who's reading this: -

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

LEO'S POV – PRESENT TIME

He dropped her. He let her go. Then he ran like the coward he is, not even feeling any remorse for what he'd done. He'd dropped April and sent her to her watery grave. I jumped in after her but I didn't reach her in time; I couldn't. I only found her body when it was washed up in an old sewer tunnel days later. I don't think she truly forgave me for Casey's death – but then even if she did, how could I ever forgive myself? But little did I know that Casey and April were not the last of the tragedies we were to face – why was it always us? Couldn't we just have a break, just once? Clearly that was impossible – I'd never seen the Shredder so desperate to rid himself and his gang of us.

It's pathetic; fifteen years on I am still so hung up about how ridiculously stupid I was back then to fall for the Shredder's mind games. Anyway, Mikey's condition improved dramatically and he soon began to walk around and start to do normal things again. But the sparkle was gone. He could never be a ninja or even practise again; it broke his heart. He always used to make jokes about how he hated practice and wanted to have some fun and a normal life for once but deep down he loved it – fighting alongside us, the four of us sharing our victories, losses, triumphs and defeats, both physically and mentally, in and out of battle.

After he was forced to give up, he used to sit and watch me train, every day, restless and longing to join me. Yes, that's right – he used to do that. And no, that doesn't mean that he recovered…

TEN YEARS EARLIER

"Leonardo!" Splinter called from the living room.

"Yes, Sensei?" Leo ran out, heart skipping a couple of beats and endless possibilities running through his head as to why his Sensei needed him.

"How much more training have you got to do?"

"Another hour, Sensei, and then I thought I might go out for a run," he bowed to the rat, who nodded approvingly.

"My son, you will be needed back in here in one hour so you may have to leave the rest of the dojo-work today – it is your brother's birthday."

"But Mikey's birthday's not until---"

"I do not speak of Michelangelo," Splinter gave his son a knowing look.

"Donnie…" Leo lowered his head.

"Correct, my son, and we will be visiting his grave with his gifts as we have done every year since his death. We may also pay a quick visit to Raphael while we're there and perhaps to Mr. and Mrs. Jones,"

"Yes, Master Splinter."

"Good, my son – now, go and enjoy your run," Splinter sighed and hobbled back to his room for meditation. He still did the physical side of Ninjitsu but his elderly body was slowly overcoming him.

"Is that even possible?" Leo muttered to himself after Splinter had gone and he was left standing alone in the living room.

"Not without me, it isn't," Mikey grinned at him from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Mikey," Leo cringed – the sight of his brother no longer filled his heart with the warmth and optimism it once did. The youngest turtle was pale and weak, his breathing permanently heavy and his eyes cloudy and dull. He tried, shell how he tried, to keep his old comedic spark going, but his jokes had lost their meaning and he was rarely in the mood to use his prankster's imagination. Even at twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight as he kept reminding Leo, his playfulness still remained inside him somewhere. But it was as if he had suddenly matured overnight on the day that Donnie and Raph were heartlessly killed by the Shredder. The eighteen-year-old carefree optimist he was back then had been locked away in the deepest, darkest part of his soul and a leaden pessimistic aura had settled itself around him, refusing to budge except for Birthdays, Christmas and the occasional Halloween when it would force its way back out for a day. It was on these days when he defiantly denied that anything was wrong with him and, instead of sitting silently during Leo's training like he usually would, he would be around and about, busying himself with all his favourite comics, television shows and the cooking of fantastic meals; either that or he would be making repeated attempts to join in with the training. Since they hadn't heard from the Shredder for five years and the Foot had practically disappeared, they had begun to piece their lives back together slowly but surely, bit by bit, not that they ever could get back to normal considering they had lost most of their family and had never really been a normal family in the first place.

"What?" the orange-clad turtle pouted, "Please let me come, Leo – I'll walk, I promise! I won't try to run,"

"Oh yeah?" Leo looked highly amused, "then how are you planning on keeping up with me?"

"We can both walk – oh, come on, Leo, don't be so up-tight about everything!" Mikey laughed lightly but stopped on seeing he'd hit a nerve, "sorry," he mumbled. Leo just turned and walked away, stopping only once he reached the door to the lair,

"Well? Are you coming or not?" he raised an eye ridge and smiled warmly at his younger brother.

"Yes! The Mikester hasn't lost his touch yet! I can't believe I'm in my twenties and my use of the 'aw factor' still hasn't worn off!" he walked quickly over to join his now frowning brother.

"The 'aw factor'?" he shook his head, "Michelangelo, you're a total maniac!"

"Why, thank-you, Leonardo, I will take that as a compliment," Mikey curtsied and held his hand up for a high five from his brother but only received a rolling of the eyes from the older turtle.

The two brothers took a gentle stroll through the dark tunnels of the sewers, not daring to go topside as Mikey wasn't capable of leaping from building to building anymore.

"I can't believe it's been so long since Donnie and Raph died…ten whole years…"

"I know," Leo sighed mournfully, his mind wandering to the faces of his younger brothers. The thought of how much pain they must have been in still hurt Leo and a sharp pang of loss shot through him. Mikey, catching a glimpse of his brother's expression, stopped walking. Leo turned sharply a couple of seconds afterwards, worry now the primary emotion in his eyes, "Mikey?" he asked quickly, "you ok? You want to go back – oh, I knew this was a bad idea – you're not strong enough for long walks and stuff anymore," Leo stumbled over his words, not making much sense.

"Leo," Mikey groaned, putting his hands on his brother's shoulders and trying to calm him down, "Leo!" he tried again when his brother didn't listen and began fussing over him and checking his pulse, "LEO!" Mikey yelled – the blue turtle looked up, "that's better; I'm fine, and I think I have more cause to be worried about you than you have to be worried about me. We've been walking slower and slower and are now at a snail's pace – I think I can handle it. But you, on the other hand…" he trailed off as he met his brother's gaze, "… oh shell," he whispered, "You still blame yourself for their deaths," it was a statement, not something that needed questioning. Leo broke their eye contact and turned on his heel, running back in the direction of the lair, leaving a shocked Michelangelo in his wake, debating what course of action to take.

Reaching the lair, exhausted and breathless, Leo dropped to his knees outside the door, head in his hands. His mind was blank but his heart was full of regret and bitterness, guilt and pain. About fifteen minutes passed and he heard quick footsteps heading his way. Panicking, he leapt to his feet and drew his katana, adopting a ready stance. But, to his horror, the figure that jogged round the corner was that of Michelangelo.

"Mikey!" Leo's katana fell from his hands, clattering on the hard, stone floor.

"Had to…catch up with…you…" Mikey gasped, clutching his chest.

"Mike, you know you're not allowed to run!"

"I'm fine, Leo," Mikey's words tumbled from his mouth in a breathless muddle.

"Fine, my shell!" Leo muttered, "C'mon, we'll get you inside."

"Leo, let me go!" Mikey struggled free of his brother's support, "I can manage! I'm not nearly as weak and vulnerable as you think I am! We're not kids anymore, Leo – you have to stop this ridiculous protectiveness of me! You're supposed to be my brother, not a mother hen!" Mikey was slowly getting his breath back.

"But…"

"Hush, Leo, and just give it a rest." Mikey walked unsteadily back into the lair, flopping onto the sofa once he reached the living room. Leo, however, remained outside the lair's door, slowly bending to pick up his katana, and just staring after his brother.

The next few hours passed and soon the turtles and Splinter found themselves trudging up a hill outside the farmhouse towards the graves of their deceased brothers and those of Casey and April. Splinter was at Donnie's grave first, leaving Mikey and Leo trailing behind, slowing down a little to give their father time with his second-youngest son. When they saw him move off, Leo ushered Mikey forward, silently telling him to go first in wishing their brother a happy birthday while he hung back and gazed out at the view from the hill.

Kneeling by Donnie's grave, Mikey bowed his head and spoke softly in a tone of voice only Donnie would have understood,

"Hey, bro – Happy twenty-eighth birthday – shell, we are getting old…remember when we used to dream of the days where we would be adults and able to do anything and everything; invincible, with nothing that could stand in our way. We were supposed to do it as brothers…grow old together as the team we've always been. And I know that, really, you are still here, in a sense, and I know you can hear every word I'm saying to you…but it doesn't make the pain hurt any less. Bro, you did more for me than anyone I've ever known – and on your birthday it all seems so much more significant – and now you still continue to watch over us. But I need your help…it's Leo – he's suffocating me and I can't stand it. I know I'm not up to a lot of the stuff I used to be able to do, but that doesn't mean I'm totally incapable. I can still do a lot of normal stuff, but he's fussing over me as if I'm still fifteen and as you have all grown up I have been left behind…he doesn't want to lose me, and I appreciate that, but if you could keep an eye on him and try and tell him, if it's even possible for you to do that, that you will look out for me and I don't need the ceaseless concern and degrading babysitting. I guess this hasn't been a cheerful birthday…" he trailed off and looked around as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Leo, pale and drawn, his eyes glassy and his mouth quivering,

"Hey…" he spoke softly, and Mikey knew Leo had heard at least a little of what had been said,

"I'm nearly done," Mikey's voice cracked, but he turned back to Donnie's grave and read the inscription aloud, "In loving memory of Donatello; brother, warrior and above all a friend; truly one of the kindest souls ever to exist and a genius whose spark was never extinguished. He will be sorely missed – now and always…" he stopped and pulled out a small package from his trench coat pocket, "Happy Birthday, my brother," he smiled gently as he slowly unwrapped a beautiful and detailed painting of Donnie seated at his desk, looking older and wiser, frowning over a mechanical error in the Battle Shell, yet with a strange aura of peace about him and a faint white glow and slightly translucent quality to him, "it's you as I imagine you to be now, as you watch over us. We'll be back soon…" he stood slowly, stumbling but quickly regaining his balance, turning to face Leo once more, "Your turn," he sighed, sounding weary.

Leo waited until Mikey was safely out of earshot before he spoke with his brother,

"Firstly, I heard what Mikey said…and I need to know he's ok…I will try and lay off him if you promise me that you and Raph between you will take care of him as I can't, from wherever you are and without seeming over-protective. I can't help it…I've already lost you and Raph, I can't lose Mike too – It would kill me. But then at least we would all be together again. I wonder, Donnie, I wonder every day if there was something I could have done to save you, or at least ease your pain. You always told me that not everything was my fault and that I couldn't save everyone from their problems and their fates, but a part of me ever failed to believe you. Splinter is getting weaker every day and soon I fear it will be only me and Mikey who remain and I fear we shall fall apart. But I will keep this short, as I am certain you don't want to hear my pathetic ramblings on your birthday! Twenty-eight – my little brother is finally twenty-eight – I never thought I'd live to see this day after several of our battles, but then I never dreamed you would leave us so suddenly and so early on. I guess there are some things you can't change…you can only stand by and watch as everything falls apart in front of you and, in spite of your best efforts, you can do nothing to halt the ever accelerating pace of life and its pitfalls. But through all the darkness, there are ones such as you who would never hurt a soul unless they truly deserved it – and without you, the world has become a worse place in my eyes. Happy Birthday, bro; I don't have a present for you but I have something else," he opened his balled fist and opened up a crumpled piece of paper, "you'll remember this, I am sure," he laid the paper down, weighted by a stone, and turned away, tears in his eyes, and began the slow walk along to Raph's grave, a little further away, where Mikey was talking quietly to Splinter. He glanced backwards and saw the wind sweep through the long grass, "I love you, bro," he whispered to the wind, secure in his faith that Donnie could hear him.