I hadn't meant to continue this story, but while writing a fanfic for someone else, I started writing this and it got away from me a little bit. What can I say, I'm a victim of my muse.


Everything was in place.

The books hadn't moved from their shelves, lined in perfect order, not a crooked binding in sight. The weapons on the wall gleamed with polish, proudly displaying the care they received on a daily basis. The rug by the bed lay in a perfect circle, no tears or bumps or curled ends. The bed was made and tucked with hospital corners, pillows fluffed and awaiting their next use.

Perfect.

Just the way Leo liked it.

"It's creepy. A room should look like it's been lived in, you know? Yours looks like one of those fake bedrooms from the IKEA catalogues."

"I like things clean." Leo re-tucked the corner of the bed sheet Mikey had intentionally pulled out to give a messier look to the room. "You should try it. Maybe start by cleaning your room more than once a decade."

Mikey picked up a book from the organized shelf, eyeing it warily. "Dude, even your books are too organized. Your clothes are put away, you can clearly see the floor, and there's not a spec of dust on any of these shelves! How do you live like this!? It's barbaric!" He turned in time to see his brother's good-humoured eye-roll, and smiled in victory. "I'm just sayin', you could stand to be a little less perfect. It wouldn't kill you to, I don't know, relax for a few minutes."

Leo snatched the book from Mikey's hand and placed it back in it's spot on the shelf. "I relax. How do you think I read all these books?"

"Studying isn't relaxing." Mikey corrected. He saw the look in his brother's eyes like he was actually considering Mikey's words.

After a brief pause, Leo finally sighed heavily, shifting his foot to kick the rug at the foot of his bed so it was scrunched into a weird pile. "Satisfied?"

Mikey glanced from the rug to Leo's expecting face and back. "…That's it?"

"Baby steps." Leo ruffled Mikey's head as he walked by. "Come on, it's time for my other relaxing activity."

"What?"

Leo grinned. "Training."

The younger turtle groaned, shaking his head. "Dude, does the term 'perfectionist' mean anything to you?"

"I skewed the rug, didn't I?"

Mikey stepped beside his brother to place a hand on his shoulder, a mock-disappointment in his features. "Oh young padewan, so much to learn you have."

Leo rolled his eyes once more, sighing a light chuckle that made the younger turtle smile in victory again. "Let's go, Obi-Wan."

"Yoda!" Mikey threw his hands up in an exasperated gesture. "So much to learn…"

Mikey loved making Leo smile. And laugh! Making Leo laugh was the greatest! He was the most challenging target of his brothers, by a long shot. Don would laugh at some of his jokes or pranks, and Raph would laugh if Don was the victim of said joke or prank. Even Casey and April were easy targets. But Leo… Leo would smile, but not laugh. An actual burst of amusement from their leader was rare. Very rare. But when it happened, Mikey felt like he was on top of the world! It was like mastering a difficult kata. Made him feel accomplished. And it was always nice to see Leo actually relax for a minute. He was always so serious. So worried all the time.

Worried for everyone else.

Taking a timid step into the room, Mikey looked around and breathed in the smell. Candles and incense. Leo's room always smelled like candles and incense. It smelled like the dojo, minus the sweaty body odour. It gave the room an air of gentleness. Calm. Like a spa or a sauna.

It felt like safety.

Mikey suddenly clamped his teeth on a choked breath. His lungs were like bricks, grating against his chest and scratching holes in his throat. He walked to the bed and looked at the book on the nightstand; The Art of War. Leo'd read it before. Mikey knew because his brother had read some of it to help him sleep one time after a nightmare.

Leo was always nice to Mikey about nightmares.

All his siblings were. They might jab him every once in a while if a nightmare sounded particularly ridiculous, but none of them would ever turn him away if he was scared. Ever.

But Leo somehow could tell without Mikey waking him up. There'd been several times over the years when Mikey would jolt awake, sweating and panting and terrified out of his mind, only to find Leo sitting on his bed, pulling him into a comforting hug before he even had a chance to panic. To this day, Mikey still had no idea how Leo did it.

Now he'd never know.

Reaching for the book, Mikey was about to pick it up when a voice in his head made him hesitate.

'Leo would be upset if he knew I was in here rooting through his stuff. Especially if I lost his page.'

The idea brought a strangled laugh from Mikey's throat. What a thought! What a stupid, stupid thought! Leo wouldn't care! Leo wouldn't be upset!

Because Leo couldn't care about anything anymore. Couldn't care about his stuff, about his privacy, about his training or the missions.

Couldn't care about his family. His brothers.

Mikey.

Leo couldn't be there to care about Mikey anymore. To care for him.

Because Leo was gone. And he wasn't ever coming back.

Mikey choked on his own breath as a pain like a switchblade to his stomach crawled through his whole upper body. He felt sick. He was totally gonna hurl all over Leo's stuff. Leo would be—

Wouldn't care. Couldn't. 'Cause Leo was gone.

Forever.

Mikey collapsed to the floor, his arms resting on his brother's bed as his hands gripped the blankets like they were the only thing tethering him to the world. There was a ringing in his ears that drowned everything out, but he knew he was crying. Screaming. Hot tears charged down his cheeks in an unending stampede as his voice threw out whatever sounds it could to try and stop the pain.

Make it stop. Make it go away.

Bring him back.

Leo!

"Over here, Don!" Mikey called as he came into view of his two eldest brothers on the roof. Leo was lying prone on the ground, with Raph curled over him, heads touching as Raph held a hand on Leo's stomach. Mikey was just about to make a perfectly witty comment about his older brothers' odd position when the wind brought the smell of blood to his nostrils with such power, it almost knocked him backward. His eyes suddenly snapped open, darting around to find the source and landing on the blood pooling around Leo's mid section and trickling away with the rain. His voice became abruptly terrified. "LEO!"

Not even waiting to see if Don was behind him, Mikey jumped to the roof, practically falling over beside his brother to grip his hand. His breath hitched immediately; Leo's hand was freezing! And his skin looked like he'd been dipped in bleach! "Dude, what—" The question dropped away before he could get it out.

Leo's eyes were closed.

And for some reason, Mikey felt his body going numb. No… No Don said it would be OK. He said Leo would fine. He said there was nothing to—

Mikey nearly jumped when Don kneeled beside him. "Dude, you said he was fine—"

"Raph, move your hand."

Don's voice was calm, that had to mean he had a plan. He knew how to fix this. Leo was gonna be OK. And Mikey clung to that hope with every fibre of his being.

"Raph!" Don finally managed to pry his brother's hand away from the wound on Leo's stomach and the fearful breath he choked on made Mikey grip the icy hand he held tighter.

"You can help him, right Don? You can…" His eyes were drawn to his second eldest brother as Raph finally lifted his head from Leo's. The look on his face froze Mikey's heart.

No…

"L-Leo…" Mikey could feel himself shaking. "Don, you have to do something! Leo's not breathing! He's bleeding and he's not breathing! You have to—"

Don's hand gripped his shoulder and sent a chill down Mikey's spine. Why weren't they doing anything!? Why weren't they moving!?

Why wasn't Leo breathing…?

"No…" Mikey pulled away from Don to reach up and grab his brother's shoulders, ignoring how icy cold they felt, and shake him. "Leo, wake up! This isn't funny, dude! Open your eyes!"

"Mikey…"

"NO! He's not dead! He can't be!" How could they just give up like that!? They had to try something! "Leo! Leo, open your eyes! Come on!" Everything in Mikey was in denial. Because this couldn't be real. Couldn't! Leo always made it out—every time he got hurt, he always got better. Always! He'd never… He couldn't…

Oh God…

"LEO!" It felt as though something in his chest broke, and suddenly Mikey felt… everything. Pain so intense, he couldn't think. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe!

He cried.

His shoulders quaked as he gripped his brother's frozen hand, laying his head on Leo's unmoving chest, and he cried. His mind still shouted in denial, but his heart kept ripping apart at the seams.

Leo was dead. He was really gone…

Mikey didn't even feel Don curl around him in a tight hug. He couldn't feel Leo's hand in his anymore. Could only feel the pain in his chest where his heart should be.

And the tears. He couldn't stop crying. Couldn't stop…

"LEO!"

The same tears as on the roof were running down Mikey's cheeks again as he gripped Leo's bedding and buried his face in the blankets. The pain in his chest was still there. It'd been a month since Leo…

And Mikey still felt like he'd been taken apart and put together with pieces missing.

Another surge of anguish had Mikey burying his head further into the blankets, making it harder to breathe. He just wanted to curl up and never feel anything ever again. It all hurt too much. From Leo's perfect bedroom to the extra chair at the kitchen table, to the space on the couch where Leo liked to read. It all screamed their loss. Screamed it so loud it was impossible not to hear, impossible to ignore, impossible to block out.

Mikey cried even louder, feeling his lungs grasp for air with every breath as his chest did it's best to pry itself open through his plastron.

"Leo!" He was gone. His leader. His defender. His role model.

His big brother was dead. And the world somehow expected him to just move past it and keep living.

Mikey suddenly couldn't breathe at all. There was too much! Too much pain, too much memory, too much desperation! Where was Leo!? Why wasn't he here!? How could he have—Why did he have to—

A hand to his shoulder snapped Mikey's head up, frightened eyes darting as his lungs burned with protest.

"Breathe, Michelangelo. Deep breaths." Splinter inhaled fully, watching carefully as his son copied his movements, taking one slow breath after another until the color returned to his face.

The two sat in silence as Mikey continued to inhale and exhale slowly, trying to stop the tears still pouring down his face. When he finally spoke, it was rough and grated, like he'd been screaming for hours. Maybe he had. "It's not fair, Sensei. He wasn't supposed to… He always had a plan. He always made it out. Why did he..."

Words wouldn't form anymore past the lump in his throat, and Mikey felt his panic rising again. Splinter drew his son's gaze and took a moment to breathe together once more.

"Leo's dead!" Mikey cried, falling into his father's arms as fresh tears leapt down his cheeks. "It's not fair! He's gone… he's really—it's not fair! Why him!? Why Leo!? He never did anything but help people, why'd he have to—" A sob pierced through his lips as all his emotions poured out at once, choking the life from him. "I want him back, Sensei… I want Leo back! We can't keep going without him! I don't want to! We need—we can't just—How could he—"

"Hush…" Splinter held his son close against his chest, caressing the dome of his head to calm his breathing.

Mikey wrapped his arms around his Father, sobbing into his robe. "…he's dead… he's really dead…"

Splinter closed his eyes to the grief crawling from his heart to his throat and focused on his youngest child, holding on tightly. He said not a word, but his silence said everything.

I miss him, too.


Yup.

End of Line

-TRAaP