As Raphael watches his two brothers tend to each other's wounds, he becomes aware of the fact that the adrenaline rush is wearing off. He grimly glances down at his own injuries.
"Here, Raph, let me take a look at you," Donnie offers.
"I'm fine," he supplies dully. Sure, it hurts, but he can handle it. Besides, it could be worse... he returns his gaze to his bloody hands, turning them over in the light.
Don blinks, looking hesitant. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Raph, just let him," Mikey chimes in. "You look like you're in shock."
"I said I'm fine," Raph bluntly assures him. There is no anger in his voice, just emptiness.
With a sigh, Donnie and Mikey back off.
A short while later, Master Splinter appears, leaning heavily on his cane and looking bewildered.
Raphael instantly knows, and feels his chest inflate and burn with anguish. Tears sting his eyes.
"I... I cannot—" Splinter begins to speak and then stops.
"I'll do it, Master," Raphael offers without hesitation. He swallows thickly, gazing into his father's somber eyes. He steps forward, places a hand on his shoulder. "I'll do it."
Heart pumping a mile a minute, Raphael slowly crosses through the lair to the designated room. He pauses outside the threshold, and then with a stoic expression and a held breath, enters.
xxx
Inside, candles flicker, casting eerie shadows. Raphael's eyes are immediately drawn to the muscular form beneath the dingy sheet and he his pulse is deafening in his own ears. He isn't sure how long he just stands there, seeking to mentally prepare himself for the task ahead.
Next to the body is a large basin filled with water. He goes to it, and spies a small damp spot on the sheet, showing Splinter's efforts. Not that Raph could have blamed him for not being able to finish.
He dips his hands into the basin; washes them. Then with a trembling hand, Raphael pulls back the sheet and all at once it's as though all the air is sucked from his lungs.
There lies his brother, mangled and covered in bruises and dried blood.
"Ah, fuck," he groans, looking away.
The absolute worst part, the reason Splinter simply couldn't carry on, was the finishing blow. Raphael grimaces, recalling the blade slicing through the air. It lopped his brothers head off without an ounce of difficulty, enormous amounts of blood spraying on what seemed like every surface.
Raph closes his eyes, hearing the horrified screams of his siblings, the smell of blood filling his nostrils again. The weight of his brother's severed head in his hands on the trek home, so that neither of his other brothers would have to. His stomach lurches, but he won't run. He can't. He owes Leo this much.
He pulls the sheet down and begins wringing the rag out. Leo's mask he sets aside, hoping it can be salvaged. Carefully, he steadies Leo's head with one hand and, holding back the anger bubbling inside of him, begins cleaning.
"I'm sorry, Leo. Sorry I couldn't save you."
Moving down the length of Leo's arm, he is startled to find how cold and stiff the body already is. He takes great care to cleanse the hands, where the fingertips are already a dark purple and the fingers immovable.
"I'm so sorry." It's almost a chant now. "This isn't how I wanted it."
Leo's chest is next. His skin is so cold and pale. What blood was left in his body has begun to settle in the lower portion of his body; behind his arms and legs mainly. Sickly looking veins are visible now.
Raph moves on. Next comes the other arm, then the legs. He wants to turn Leo over and wash his shell, but he's much too stiff for that. He'll need assistance for that.
Finally, he is through with what he can do. Exhaustion tugging at his mind and limbs, Raphael once again covers the body.
"I won't let you down. I'll make you proud and lead our family to greatness. And I'll get revenge for what was done to you, Leo. I promise."
He is silent for a a bit, eyes tired and red. Then he kneels, and he begins to pray.
"Safe travels, Fearless."
After all, that's what his brother was. Fearless, until the very end.