A loud knocking broke the heavy silence, causing everybody to suddenly raise their heads. Leonardo stood up, walked across the room to the front door and opened it. Raphael didn't say anything - he simply stepped in and hugged his brother, tightly, for several seconds. Finally, Raphael let go and moved aside, and Leonardo gave a quick hug to Shawna, who had been standing behind Raphael.
"Thanks for coming," Leonardo whispered.
"Sure thing," Shawna said, almost as quietly.
Raphael and Shawna walked into Leonardo's apartment. His place was rather Spartan, and always impeccably neat. His living room was especially austere, with three small sofas and a chair in a square around a small glass coffee table. A few small end tables sat at the end of the sofas, helping to complete the square. The walls were adorned with a few old martial arts weapons, a couple of Splinter's paintings, and a old map of Japan. The room had no knick-knacks, no stereo, and (most tellingly) no TV. However, the mutants often chose Leonardo's apartment as their meeting place - possibly because of its neatness, or possibly just because of the lack of distractions.
The two newcomers hugged Michelangelo and Danielle, and then Donatello and Jamie. Slowly, they all sat down again, and once more, silence fell over the room.
Michelangelo finally spoke up, saying, "Uh, either of you need a drink or something?" Raphael and Shawna both shook their heads.
"Do they...know what happened?" asked Shawna hesitantly.
"Not yet," said Michelangelo dully. "The doctor said everything points to something simple, and something sudden. Maybe a stroke or heart attack. It looks like Sensei just...died in his sleep. They'll know for sure after the autopsy."
Leonardo shook his head. "I can't believe it."
There was another long pause, finally broken when Jamie stood up. "Um, I'm thinking maybe...me and the girls...should give you some time alone..."
"No," said Leonardo, quickly. "No, you don't have to go."
Shawna shook her head. "No, actually, I think Jamie's right. I think you four need to...be alone for a while." She stood up and turned to Danielle, who was also getting to her feet.
Michelangelo got up next to Danielle. "Where are you gonna go?"
"Um..." Danielle glanced at Jamie and Shawna. "The coffee shop on the corner?"
"That sounds good," agreed Jamie.
"Give me a buzz," said Danielle, hugging Michelangelo, then made her way to the door. The mutants watched their partners walk out, then once the door closed, they turned back to each other. Leonardo was the first to move, pushing his chair back from the table. He then moved to one side of a couch, and nodded to Donatello, who took up a place on the other side. Seeing what they were doing, Raphael and Michelangelo began moving the other two couches back, even if they weren't entirely sure why. Once they finished, Donatello sat on the floor, in formal style, at the coffee table, and the other two, understanding, joined him. Leonardo, however, didn't sit down with them, but headed out towards the kitchen. Michelangelo watched him go.
"He's getting tea," guessed Donatello, quietly. Michelangelo nodded in assent.
Raphael took a deep breath. "It's...so weird," he said.
"Weird?" repeated Donatello, confused. "You mean, Sensei dying?"
"Nnnooo, not exactly. I guess I knew that someday he'd...die. But it's so strange to...not be able to call him, or talk to him, or see him." Raphael grimaced. "I guess I never really came to grips with what Sensei dying actually would mean."
Michelangelo shook his head sadly. "I never got to say goodbye," he said quietly.
"You didn't need to," said Donatello firmly.
"How you figure?"
"I was thinking the same thing all day, Mike. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to say I loved him." He stopped, took an unsteady breath to calm himself, and then continued. "But then I realized, we didn't need to give him a big goodbye or anything. We told him we loved him all the time - in words, and in what we did. He didn't need a goodbye, I don't think."
"He's lucky," said Raphael unexpectedly. "Leaving without regrets."
"No," said Donatello, shaking his head. "Not lucky. Smart. It's because of...how Sensei is...was...that he was able to do that."
Leonardo emerged, carrying a tray with teacups and a metal teapot. He set it on the table, sat down along the fourth side of the table in formal style, and began pouring. Each of them took their cup, but waited until Leonardo had finished pouring. Once finished, Leonardo lifted his cup. "To Sensei," he said quietly.
"To Sensei," they all responded. They raised their cups, and then drank, but Donatello quickly put his down again when tears began falling down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes.
Michelangelo leaned over and put his hand on Donatello's shoulder. "Dude, it's OK."
Donatello shook his head. "Some things never change, I guess," he said, somewhat bitterly. "Look who's crying."
"All of us," said Raphael.
Surprised, Donatello pulled his hand away from his eyes. Sure enough, all three of his brothers were crying, too.
Michelangelo managed a small smile through his tears. "Remember what Splinter used to tell us when we were little? Crying is how you get the sadness out."
Leonardo put his teacup down. "I got a lot to get out," he managed to croak. He put his cup down and began crying in earnest.
The other three watched him, a bit uncomfortably. Donatello leaned towards him and said, "You OK?"
"Just...let me cry right now, OK? I can't do anything until I..." Leonardo got choked up, but Donatello patted his arm.
"That's OK, Leo. Don't worry about it."
To Donatello's surprise, Leonardo leaned over towards him and hugged him. Donatello put his arms around his brother and held him quietly, letting his own tears fall.
Michelangelo stole a glance at Raphael - were they supposed to hug, too? Raphael instead had lain back onto the carpet, tossed his arm across his eyes, and lay still. Michelangelo thought that looked like as good a position as any, so he leaned back and did the same, letting the tears come as they may.
It was about a minute later that Michelangelo sensed some movement, so he glanced up, rubbing his eyes. Leonardo had pulled away from Donatello, gotten up and headed towards his bedroom. He decided that was a sign that crying time was over, so he sat up and tried to pull himself together a bit. A few seconds later, as Raphael was sitting up, Leonardo came back with a stack of small towels, which he began distributing. Michelangelo found, to his surprise, that Leonardo had soaked the towels in warm water, and he immediately began rubbing his face clean.
"Sorry," said Leonardo a few seconds later, neatly folding his towel back up. "I kinda...felt like getting that out of the way."
"Good idea, actually," said Raphael.
Donatello admitted, "I do feel a lot better."
"And thanks," added Leonardo.
"What for?"
Leonardo put the towel in his lap, and remained looking down. "You know, I really envy you guys sometimes. I mean, I don't really mind being on my own most of the time, but sometimes...well, it's just good to hold someone you care about."
Michelangelo flung his towel over his shoulder. "Tell you what, Leo. Any time - day or night - you need a hug, gimme a call."
"Thanks." Leonardo smiled a bit. "Don't be surprised if I actually take you up on that." He poured himself some more tea, then said, "OK. Now that I can talk without utterly breaking down, I guess we've got some business to take care of."
"Business?" repeated Raphael.
"Yeah. Two main things: Sensei's will, and his memorial."
"Wow. Did Splinter even write a will?" wondered Donatello aloud.
"Yes," answered Leonardo.
"He did?" Raphael seemed surprised. "You know that for sure?"
"Yeah. He's got a copy at his place, and his lawyer has one."
Donatello, confused, said, "Wait - Splinter's got a lawyer?"
"Sure - Mr Tanaka. You never met him?"
"Not that I recall."
"He helped out when that guy was claiming Sensei stole his work."
The image of the short man in the black suit came flooding into Donatello's head. "Oh! Right, got it. I didn't know Sensei kept him on."
"He had him on retainer," explained Leonardo, collecting the towels. "I don't know if he ever actually used him for anything except to draft his will, though."
"So, what do we do?" asked Raphael. "Call him up and make an appointment for him to read it to us?"
Leonardo got to his feet. "You know, honestly, I don't know how this works." He walked into the kitchen and placed the towels on the counter.
"But at least we know who to call," pointed out Donatello. "And you can bet he'll know what to do."
Leonardo resumed his place at the table. "Right. I'll call him tomorrow morning." No one seemed to notice - or care - that Leonardo had once more taken on the role of the leader. He paused to sip his tea, then went on. "So that brings us to the memorial service."
"Are we supposed to organize that?" asked Michelangelo.
"I think that'll be our job, but I don't want to rush into that. We'll have to wait and find out what's in the will. Sensei may have given instructions on what sort of service he'd like."
"Hm," said Raphael, rubbing his chin. "I can't picture Sensei wanting a huge somber funeral."
"Me neither," agreed Leonardo. "But we'll have to see what it says."
"What about..." Michelangelo paused, not sure if he should go on. Finally he said, "What about...the body?"
Raphael looked hard. "What do you mean?"
"Well, is he...do we...have him buried? Cremated?"
"That'll probably be in the will, too," said Leonardo. Then, a bit uncomfortably, "If it isn't, I guess we'll decide then."
"But what about in the meantime?" asked Donatello, looking a bit sick.
"He's at the morgue," said Michelangelo.
Raphael looked off into the distance. "He'll probably want to be cremated."
Donatello murmured, "I hope not." The others turned to look at him, and he added, "I guess I...I just want to...see him. One more time. To say goodbye."
"No, you don't," said Michelangelo, with a small shudder.
Everyone turned to face Michelangelo. "Why? Did he look...awful?" asked Donatello hesitantly.
"No," said Michelangelo. "Not awful. He didn't look...horrible or anything. His eyes were closed, his mouth was closed, he looked... well, he looked peaceful enough."
There was a pause, broken by Raphael. "But what?"
Michelangelo poured himself more tea. "Do you remember when Mr Samuels died?"
"Yeah," said Raphael, and the other two nodded.
After taking a sip of tea, Michelangelo went on. "Well, I told Sensei that I was kinda freaked out having his body in the house. And Sensei told me not to worry about it. He said that Mr Samuels' body - everybody's body - is just a possession, and once we die, we don't need it anymore. He told me, 'What is lying in Mr Samuels' room is not Mr Samuels, but simply one of his possessions.' And that sort of calmed me down."
Raphael said, "A Splinter specialty."
Michelangelo smiled a bit. "Yeah. But that's what was so...creepy about seeing Sensei's body. It was like..." His voice trailed off, and then he snapped his fingers and pointed at Donatello. "You remember when you showed me that video game prototype you had? Dungeon Deep or whatever the heck it was called?"
Donatello thought back. "Dungeon Denizens?"
"That's it."
"Yeah..."
"You remember how I felt about it?"
"Um, I remember you didn't like it..."
"You remember why?"
Donatello closed his eyes, then shook his head. "No. Sorry."
"I didn't like the people in it."
"Oh, right! You said they were creepy."
"They were creepy."
Raphael turned to Michelangelo. "How come?"
"It's weird. They were creepy because they were realistic - the most realistic people I've seen on a video game. I'd say they were about 99 accurate."
"And that creeped you out?"
Michelangelo nodded. "See, if they looked exactly like people, I would've probably thought it was really cool. Or if they were cartoon-like, I could've dealt with that, too. But instead, they were almost exactly like people, but just a bit off. And that weirded me out. It was like looking at real people, but that were messed up somehow." He took another sip of tea, then continued. "Seeing Splinter in that bed was sort of the same thing. He looked...like Splinter...but once he died, there was something missing. And that was enough to make him look...wrong." Michelangelo suddenly nodded, rather severely. "Sensei's right. The body isn't the person. That wasn't Splinter lying in that bed."
Donatello looked at Michelangelo for a bit, then gave him a quick smile. "I guess you're right." Turning back to Leonardo, he asked, "So is there anything we should do in advance of hearing the will? Anything we need to get ready?"
Leonardo considered. "Well, we may need to look into places where we can hold the memorial service."
Michelangelo said, uncertainly, "So...a church?"
Leonardo shook his head. "No. It doesn't have to be a religious place. Just somewhere where a group of people could assemble."
Raphael offered, "Like the youth center?"
"Hm." Leonardo thought about that. "That might work."
"Or how about the gallery?" suggested Michelangelo. "As long as the owners say it's OK and all."
"Hey, yeah," agreed Donatello.
"I think Splinter would like that," said Leonardo, still unable to put him in the past tense. "Let's say the gallery first, and the youth center second, in case the gallery doesn't work out." Raphael gave him a thumbs-up sign. "All right, then. I'll call the gallery tomorrow morning."
"Anything else?" asked Michelangelo.
Leonardo paused, then nodded. "Yeah. Start getting a list together of who you'd like to invite to the memorial."
"Invite? So we're going to...mail out something?" hazarded Raphael.
Leonardo half-shrugged. "No idea. We might. Or we could call, or e-mail. We'll see. But we may as well try to get a list together. Just give me a list of names."
"Got it," said Raphael, and the others nodded.
"OK. I guess that's it for now." Leonardo sipped his tea.
Michelangelo said, "Cool. Thanks, Leo."
"For what?"
"Y'know, for...being you. For taking charge."
"Mikey's right," agreed Raphael. "I was so caught up in...well, in how I felt about the whole thing, that I didn't even think that there was stuff that needed to get handled."
Leonardo ducked his head. He hadn't gotten any better at accepting praise over the years. "Well, actually, I'm the one who should thank you. As long as there's stuff to do..." He swallowed and nodded. "I think I'll be OK."
Michelangelo held his hand out, over the middle of the table. The rest of the mutants followed his lead, piling them on top of his. "We'll get through this," said Michelangelo confidently. "Sensei made us survivors."
