Hurt - Chapter 15

Rated: T

Transport

Chapter Summary: The group are forced to leave to Northampton without Leo...


Splinter awoke to another morning; the promises and possibilities that used to fill each day with joy and spending more time with his sons was tainted by death.

His second-oldest son brutally murdered and eldest disappearing without a trace; it was enough to bring a normal man to their knees. The all-encompassing grief and agony became part of his every day reality that he feared he would never grow used to. It was akin to almost a constant physical pain, a searing hot, rusted knife piercing his heart before twisting deep in the organ and remaining there as he bled out.

There were so many questions without nearly enough answers; what-if scenarios that haunted each and every waking moment had embedded itself roughly into every fiber of his very being.

This was his new reality...and he needed to come to grips with it.

April's kindhearted father giving him a place to bury his son was a greater gift than he was used to receiving. The preparation taking his mind off the grief for only a brief respite; packing, cleaning, getting everything ready for the trip and for their stay at the farmhouse.

Although his mind was kept busy during this time...the pain remained...

Today was the day they were leaving to Northampton; the day in which they would head to the spot in which he was going to bury his son, Raphael. It'd been almost a full week since that dreaded night that he died and since then, time that used to fly slew to a trickle; allotting him optimum time feel every single painful second that passed without his son. The worst torture you could imagine; yet, he strove on even if everything else inside of him was ready and desperate to shut down.

Walking into the lab, he took a deep breath; his exhalation causing puffs of white smoke to exit his mouth before dissipating into the frigid air. The containment unit was prepped and ready to go in the Shellraiser and it was his duty to move his son to it for Donnie was not physically able to move the heavy dead weight of the body and Splinter would not dream of asking him to do so after all he'd experienced this far. His genius son had taken more upon his thin shoulders than what should have been physically and emotionally possible. Donnie had taken the role he never should have; a leader to comfort his youngest brother, a mortician, and brother responsible for picking up the pieces Raphael's death caused them all. To preserve his older brother's body and be responsible for keeping it from decomposition. It was a task he should have not done alone, if at all, but he did.

The strength of spirit his genius child contained astonished him to no end...

Splinter stared down at Raphael's wrapped body for only a moment before gingerly maneuvering an arm under his neck and another under his knees; pulling the unnaturally heavy, frigid and limp body into his arms and heading over to deposit him in the Shellraiser all while Donnie was tasked with keeping Mikey busy during the transportation of the body to the Shellraiser.


Donatello helped Mikey pack for the trip and stay at Northampton. They hadn't really discussed how long they planned to remain there but Donnie was certain to pack plenty just in case they decided to stay up to a month's time. The genius brother watched Mikey continue to pack, said terrapin stopping for a moment to clutch one of Raphael's pillows close to his chest like a lifeline; his own heart raw and tattered as he witnessed the silent tears leaking from the youngest turtle's big blue eyes.

Each step forward toward the funeral seemed to take a bigger toll on his heart than the last. Eyes fell to his own wrist, where Mikey's bracelet curled around, the small patch of red having an involuntary pull in his gut. A part of him still silently pondering if this was actually happening or if it was just some nightmare or form of demented purgatory. The sort of pain he'd been experiencing since his older brother's death was almost too all-encompassing to even be allowed to exist.

"Okay. I think that's it." Mikey said, breaking Donnie out of his thoughts.

"Y-You sure, Mike? We might be there for awhile."

"Yeah..." the youngest sniffled, wiping at his bloodshot eyes, "I think so...C-Can I take this with me?" he continued, gesturing to the tattered red pillow and blanket wound tightly in his grasp.

"Of course, Mike. I-If you think you're done, we should get going. I think April and her dad are waiting outside already." Donnie spoke softly, a gentle hand on Mikey's head as the genius stood to his feet to collect the bags.

"Oh. I-Is dad already in the Shellraiser? I didn't mean to make him wait..." Mikey asked, standing up and following after his brother out into the living room.

"It's okay, Mikey. Now, c'mon; we should get on the road before it gets t-t-too late." Donnie replied, hating how his voice broke near the end of his sentence. Donatello opened the door to the Shellraiser where Splinter was already seated. Their Sensei sitting silently in a meditative position nearest the containment unit; leaving the two front seats for himself and Michelangelo.

"Is that the last of the bags, Donatello?" Splinter asked as he reached for the items and deposited them near the others.

"Hai, Sensei." Donatello replied and Splinter nodded his contentedness with his answer.

Upon closing the door and about to head to the diver's seat, he noticed Mikey wasn't in the passenger's seat where he should have been. His vision gravitated toward the turnstiles, where Michelangelo stood silently, his blue eyes looking back out toward the sewers and then solemnly back to the lair and back again. It was obvious the youngest was in distress and deep thought yet Donatello knew now wasn't the time to dawdle when many hours of driving awaited them. They were already cutting it close.

"Mikey...did you forget something?" Donnie asked, approached the youngest turtle and laid a comforting hand upon his carapace and rubbing small circles into the smooth shell.

Michelangelo swallowed thickly before replying, "I w-was just kinda hopin' that Leo would show up..."

Donatello's heart rose to this throat at the utter agony lacing his small, raspy voice voice. "Me too, Mikey...Me too..."

"...W-Why do you think he's not coming home? Doesn't he know that he needs to be here?" Mikey whimpered, bottom lip wobbling lightly as he spoke.

"...I really don't know, Mikey... I really don't..." Donnie admitted with a sigh, chest aching as Michelangelo's eyes gravitated to his feet.

"..." the youngest didn't speak after that, just wiping away tears before wordlessly walking toward the Shellraiser and getting into the passenger seat and buckling himself in.

"...Dammit, Leo..." Donatello growled to himself before he followed Mikey's lead and entered the vehicle.

The Shellraiser started with a gentle purr, the stench of death and blood still heavy in the air but it was ignored as they began making their way back out to the surface. After only a few moments, they drove up to Kirby's vehicle parked near the sidewalk. Checking his rear-view mirror to make sure no other cars were coming in behind him, he stopped by the small silver car. Kirby peered up at the tall van, greeting him and Mikey with a sad wave; sitting next to him was April, who just gave each of them a tight, teary smile from her spot in the passenger's seat.

Mikey was reluctantly to return it but did as best he could even if his smile was a bit forced.

With a stiff nod, Kirby began driving down the darkened road and Donnie wordlessly followed. The night sky foggy and dreary as they drove, the bright lights of New York more bothersome than usual as the group made their way to Northampton.


April let out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. They'd been driving for only an hour and being in this small space was already stifling to her fragile mental state.

"Hey. Are you okay, April?" her father asked, his normally soothing voice didn't have the desired effect.

"Yeah..." she lied, her eyes taking in the flashing lights of the fading city in the rear-view mirror. The reality of the situation getting harder and harder to ignore.

...Raphael was really gone...

They were actually leaving on their way to bury him at the farmhouse she'd grown up in.

A place full of bittersweet memories was soon to be a place of guilt and tragedy; a life ending far too short because of her negligence. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever even consider anything of this sort happening to her...or to his family. They'd given so much; protecting the city and its citizens way before she knew of their existence; even their first meeting was of them saving their lives. None of this was fair; his life cut so short because she got distracted and he died saving her...the reasoning as to why he'd do so was still haunting her and she feared it always would...

Seeing how his death effected his family made it all the worse; they were so utterly broken without Raphael there. Leo was missing, Mikey was a wreck, Donnie and Splinter were forced to deal with the aftermath and forced to pick up the pieces even if they'd never fit together quite the same way. There was this hole now. A vital piece missing from their lives that was taken so brutally and quickly none of them really understood the gravity of it yet.

The worst part was knowing the red-banded terrapin really wouldn't be there anymore.

Those bright green eyes never opening again; his voice so distinct would never be heard.

It was devastating to the redhead, not sure how to deal with any of it. She'd mainly struggled in silence, the lack of his presence was all-encompassing and had her heart clench whenever she'd be reminded of it. She'd catch herself calling him forgetting he wasn't going to answer the phone; wondering why he didn't show up to drag her to training. It was an odd sensation to say the least. The absence of him was nearly debilitating; she was unaware of just how much he meant to her til the night he died...

How much she just missed him...how much they all did...

April suddenly found herself sobbing, face buried into her crossed arms as the pain resurfaced with a vengeance.

Kirby could do little more than ignore his daughter's cries, focusing on the road in front of him and prayed they'd be there soon.


Casey wordlessly carried the last box from his apartment and into the back of a rusty old pick-up truck he'd been given for his sixteenth birthday by his late-grandfather. Silently recalling the argument between his own dad and grandpap over the whole issue. His father was furious, telling the elderly man Casey didn't deserve such a gift and instead of it becoming a meaningful happy memory, it was tainted by another one of his father's drunk rants. It only made it worse when his grandfather died just months afterward and it was only Casey's uncle that was the reason Casey got to keep the vehicle at all. His dad was fine with selling it for a few hundred bucks to buy more beer. Shaking his head at the memory, the vigilante began heading back up the stairs to his rundown apartment building.

Only reasoning was to close and lock up the doors (it was a rough neighborhood after all), Casey froze at the doorway for a moment; taking in the place he'd been living in as long as he could remember. Memories more bad than good; recalling the many beatings and beer bottles he'd been hit with throughout the hellish years. His father's nice demeanor dissipating to alcoholism when his mother decided to leave in the middle of the night for cigarettes and never came back home; his father solely blamed him for his mother taking off.

Never wanting to admit it was his drunkenness and physical and verbal abuse he'd put the poor woman through for years (Casey still held resentment that she didn't take him and his sister with her...) Speaking of whom, most memories he'd had of his baby sis was her crying; begging their father to stop hitting him. Casey yelling at her to leave; not wanting his abusive father to turn the belt, or bottle, or harsh words in her direction.

So many years passed, spent, wasted living in this hellish environment and there was only one person who he told it about... The one person who never judged him, who was always such a good listener despite his short fuse and legendary temper. Someone he considered his best friend and unconventional brother...the same one who was no longer with him.

Brown eyes suddenly blurring as he remained at the threshold of his apartment; the absence of Raphael all the more apparent that there was nothing left for him here anymore...

Leaving it behind with a firm click from the door, Casey descended the stairs and climbed into the truck. Staring at the wheel for the longest time before bringing the engine to life, he took one long, last lingering look toward the place he'd called "home" most of his life.

A part of him wanted to go back and grab his sister but knew it simply wasn't an option. She'd grown up; started believing the lies of their father more often than not and began turning against him; the gradual space began to widen; their distance as once close siblings had been severed a long time ago.

Casey looked in the back of the truck, making sure all of his possessions were safely stowed away before he took off. "Sorry." he whispered to no one in particular, having to say something in a moment so life-changing. A quick glance in the rear-view mirror, and he was gone into the night. A small piece of paper etched with an messily-written address staring at him from the cup-holder; his mind made up and few regrets he was leaving behind, Casey began the journey to Northampton.