A Million Miles Apart

A/N: Hi guys. Man, it's been way too long, hasn't it? Well, unfortunately my Mac has started rebelling against me and I've been unable to use it since the beginning of January. And so until I can get it fixed or get a new one, I have to use my iPad and Bluetooth keyboard, which is taking a little bit longer than I would like.

Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter and please review, favorite and follow!

Chapter 71, A Conversation

After we had finished eating breakfast and my sons went to do their own activities and April and Casey left to go to the store for food, I made my way up to the room I had spent the nights in. The house wasn't very big with only three bedrooms and it had forced us all to share rooms, and April had been kind enough to let me share with her. At first I had really wanted to sleep close to Leonardo to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself in his sleep (and to ensure he did actually sleep), but Raphael had done a very good job convincing me he would be fine sharing his room with his older brother and would be more than capable of looking after him.

And so I had been sleeping on a mattress on the floor in April's room; April didn't spend much time in there other than to sleep and didn't have many things with her, which left room for my things, although I made a point to keep most of it in my bags.

Tidiness and keeping your space clean was always important, especially when you were in someone else's home.

As I entered the room and closed the door behind myself, I made my way to my bag and pulled out the box, running my fingers over the old wood and the lock that kept it closed. So many memories in this box, so many mementoes and keepsakes from my boys' lives as they had grown up from tiny infants into the young men they were today. And I could only imagine more would come as they would grow from teenagers into adults.

Well… at least most of them would.

My ears drooped and I hugged the box to my chest as I fought hard against the tears. Even now, several months later, it was no easier to accept the reality of this horrible situation, to accept that one of my boys was never coming home again.

That I would never see him grow up alongside his brothers and become the amazing, intelligent man that I had always known he was going to be.

I took a deep breath through my nose and clutched the box tighter before slowly making my way downstairs again. My sons were no doubt sitting in the living room at this point; I could hear Michelangelo's cartoons and I was sure that Leonardo had taken his place by the fireplace as he always did when he was not eating or sleeping.

Raphael had surprised me the last few days by spending most of his time reading- and not the usual comic books or magazines that he always read otherwise, but rather thick tomes that seemed to be all about mechanics or how-to guides for cars or motorcycles and other such things I had not thought Raphael was that interested in. At least not enough to study the subject the way he suddenly was.

But at least he had found a way to occupy his time that wasn't punching things and wasn't crawling on the walls anymore. One had to be grateful for small favors.

I made my way into the kitchen and sat down at the table before slowly and gently opening the box. Photos and toys and other keepsakes spilled over the edges and onto the table and a small voice in the back of my head told me I would probably have to find a bigger box sometime soon if I planned on saving more things for the future.

But that thought was quickly forgotten as my eyes fell on a photo of my boys from when they were still very small. Back when they still shared a room and were small enough for one bed. Back then when they were completely dependent on me for help with just about everything. Back when they were still innocent and the world's cruelty hadn't yet revealed itself to them.

I sighed and closed my eyes. There were days when I longed for those simple days, back when they were still little. Back when they were still innocent and safe from the dangers of this world they had been born into. When Leonardo had spent his days watching Space Heroes or playing Heroes and Villains with his brothers. When Raphael played freely with his brothers and didn't see them as beneath him, when he didn't put priority on being stronger and tougher. When Michelangelo's childlike questions had made me question my own views on the world, despite how nonsensical they were.

Back when…

I drew in a shaky breath.

Back when Donatello's intelligence had begun to floor me. Before he had placed so many burdens on himself and wanted to fix everything and help everyone. Back when he was still young and looking for ways to make his brothers happy, and mostly succeeded. I'd known that he would one day change the world, despite the fear that came with knowing it would mean he and his brothers would have to interact with the human world.

I opened my eyes again and looked down at the box of mementos. Sometimes it still hurt to think that I kept Donatello's things with his brothers' things, but I just couldn't bring myself to separate them. He was still part of this family, whether he was still here with us or not.

But still, that did not mean that it didn't hurt to be reminded of the fact that my baby was gone forever and that I would never get to see him again. At least not until I would get to join him in the afterlife, and if I had my say in the matter, it would not happen until my body was old and frail and my boys were far into their adulthood.

For some reason it felt a bit like I was choosing between them and their brother.

My eyes fell on a small box, barely bigger than a jewelry case, with faded golden trimmings on the lid and the sides and corners of the box and a small metal clasp that was slightly bent. It was very simple and worn out, probably something that the boys or I had found in the sewers or the junkyard. But if there was one thing I had learned from the almost two decades I had spent as a rat and father to four mutant turtles, it was that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. And this box, while simple, was still beautiful in its simplicity.

And the inside was even better.

I gently grabbed it and opened it and twisted the small knob on the back, a soft and sweet melody playing softly. The inside was also fairly simple, though the gold trimmings were less worn and faded and there were some red satin pads decorating the inside, although they were a bit tattered too. But the sweetest and newest addition was the photo of our family; me in front of the turnstiles and the boys in front of me with big, wide smiles and their recently given masks on their faces.

The photo was sweet and nostalgic; a small keepsake from simpler times and it, along with the sweet melody, nearly brought me to tears.

The melody was soft and gentle, much like a lullaby, and it took a lot of willpower to not think back to all the lullabies I had sung to my sons over the years and start to cry.

I remembered the day Donatello had come to me with the music box. It had been a gift for our tenth Mutation Day. He had been beaming up at me as he reached up his hands with the music box and had looked so proud when he twisted the knob and the music had started to play. I, of course, had praised his efforts and thanked him for the gift; he had smiled widely and then run off towards his lab, presumably to create something new.

I smiled softly and looked at my son's face. "Oh Donatello, has it truly been almost three months since we lost you? Time has truly passed by such a blur, so much faster than I am truly comfortable with. Your flame was blown out and vanished so quickly that there are times when I still forget that you're gone. And though I know you are never coming back to us, in the silence I can still hear the echoes of your voice." I had sworn to myself I wouldn't cry this time, but tears escaped my eyes regardless. "There has been this darkness and silence ever since we lost you, and we all have been trying to find our way back to the light. I suppose I've gotten my footing back, if only slightly; I still don't know how to help your brothers to move forward."

I chuckled dryly and wiped a hand over my face. "I can only imagine what you think of us, if you are here, watching over us. You would probably roll your eyes at Raphael's stubborn denial and give the cold hard facts he would need to realize the truth, yet also offer your shoulder for him to lean or cry on. And even if your offer would go unappreciated and brushed off, it would still be there, waiting for him to come to you."

My voice broke as an unwelcome sob got in between my words and I had to clear my throat and take a deep breath before I trusted myself to speak again. "I suppose you would try to help Michelangelo deal with the situation as gently yet as seriously as you could. Help him recognize what death truly means yet also be a steady rock for him as he processed his grief and hold him when he needed and wanted it."

I blinked as my vision became foggier, though it took almost a full minute before I could see somewhat clearly again. There was also a tightness in my chest that I knew would only hurt much more if I didn't soon release it.

Still, I fought valiantly against the tears and tried to smile through them. "Perhaps you would have had ideas on how to help guide Leonardo through the dark place he has trapped himself in. He has been through so much pain, a lot of which he has brought upon himself. He is drowning himself in guilt and shame over your passing and Miwa's-"

My voice broke again and I had to pause and allow my voice to settle, if only slightly. I took another deep breath. "I mean, Karai's involvement in the whole ordeal. He believes himself to be at fault for everything that happened to you and nothing I or your brothers say can change his mind. I worry for his mental wellbeing, Donatello. He is slipping further and further into depression and grief and I wonder what will happen if we cannot help him out of it in time."

I looked down at the pile of old toys, practice weapons and photos; I picked up one of the pictures, featuring a seven-year old Donatello working in his lab, goggles resting around his neck and his face covered in black motor oil. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he was working on a small contraption with a screwdriver in his hand.

My grip on the photo tightened and it crumpled slightly. I gritted my teeth and bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from sobbing. "I know that April and Casey are doing what they can to help and support us all, but they are also children and should not have to bear the responsibility of helping others through this kind of pain. They have enough pain and trouble in their lives to have to worry about ours. And as I am the only adult in this house, I have to make sure all of my wards receive the care and love that they need to make it through this terrible ordeal so that we can go back to New York together and stop the Kraang. And eventually carry on with our lives."

I brushed my fingers over my eyes and face and drew in another trembling breath. I covered my muzzle and mouth with both hands, blinking hard.

"The only problem is that I'm not sure that I have the strength to carry on with my life, nevermind helping your brothers to. I know that it is selfish to feel like that and think of myself this way, but it's hard not to feel it all weigh me down as I think of how time marches forward against our will. I'm sure you would find ways to shoulder the pain and move forward just as you always have, but I don't have the same strength and power that you did. I'm old and tired and have already lost so much in my life. My wife, my daughter, my brother and father, my clan, my human form and now you. How much pain and loss can a heart take before it breaks beyond repair? Before it simply cannot put itself back together again?"

And at that point it was simply too much. Tears exploded forth and I couldn't find the strength to fight them off anymore. Sobs tore at my throat and chest, fighting to be released and I had to put the photo down before I destroyed it completely, hiding my face in my hands.

The soft lullaby from the music box had stopped playing and I was left in a silent room, surrounded by items that reminded me of my lost child and a million ways that I might have failed him while he was still with us. While I still had the chance to be a good father to him and not just his Master and Sensei.

Because wasn't that the most important role that I had to play? While being a good teacher to my students was a very vital part of my life, an equally important- if not more so- part was to be a loving and caring father to my sons.

Leonardo had always looked up to me and we had grown a very strong and close bond over the years. Raphael and I had had a hard time seeing eye to eye at times and he didn't always understand or respect my teachings that didn't involve fighting or hitting things, but I had always done the best I could to help him with his anger so he wouldn't make the same mistakes I had made in the past. And while Michelangelo may not always have been an impeccable or focused student, he was also the one who loved the most openly and easily. He cared very much and always wanted to show it to everyone, while also being playful and energetic and enjoying pulling pranks on his brothers and friends. And he'd always been the most affectionate with everyone around him, especially when he was younger, which had resulted in a very cuddly relationship between me and my youngest.

But my relationship with my third youngest son had always been… complicated, as well as a bit strained from time to time. Donatello had always been very scientifically minded and wanted to understand everything from a logical sense, whereas I had always wanted my sons to learn life lessons on their own and not just be told everything in black and while.

Also I had an affinity for riddles and 'wise old man sayings.'

However Donatello had never liked any of my riddles and tended to miss the morals hidden in them. Besides that, Donatello and I had always had vastly different interests which did not help bridge the gap between us. He always tended to lock himself in his lab and I kept to myself in my room in the dojo, so we only ever interacted while training was in session- even then he and I did not always talk about a lot, since he didn't say much or attempt to stand out, while his brothers wanted to take the spotlight with their own way of fighting.

So, Donatello and I did not have a very close or strong relationship, mostly because of differing interests, priorities and mindsets. But had that eventually led to me not really knowing my own son? Had I driven him away because I had never tried to understand him whenever he came to me with his problems? Because while Donatello always showed up for training and did his best in everything he did, I had never had a strong interest for science or inventing. And though I had always done my best to encourage and support his passions, I had never made any big attempts to understand them- or him.

My son who had done so much for this whole family, and how much had he been appreciated for it all?

I sighed shakily and closed my eyes, letting my tears fall and soak the fur under my eyes, leaving dark rings in the already dark strands. I lowered my hands from my face and rubbed them over my arms, suddenly feeling a chill down my whole body.

I drew another shaky breath. "Donatello, there's a light that's gone out since you left us. And though I feel unsure how I will do this, I will carry on." A soft, humorless chuckle escaped my lips as I dried my eyes with the back of my hand. "Although it is not as if I have much of a choice in the matter. But I will find my strength again, to be there for your brothers and help them stand up again. It is the only thing that I can do now and so I will do my very best to help them. I owe it to them- to you, my son- to be a parent to them, now more than ever. I will keep moving forward even as my heart cries and aches for you. Because I know it's what you would have wanted for us all; to move forward and be alright in the end. After all, it's pointless to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves."

I tried to smile down at the photo inside the music box, stroking a finger over his face. "I will do right by this family, Donatello. I will do right by you, even though it is far too late."

Another tear ran down my face. "We will be alright, Donatello. You can rest in peace, my son. You don't have to worry for us anymore; we will be alright. I promise."

"Sensei?"

I looked up, caught off guard, and saw Raphael standing in the doorway, one hand on the door frame and a book under his arm. He looked both worried and like he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. He seemed to mentally debate over whether or not he could come into the room, jerking back and forth so very slightly it almost wasn't noticeable.

Still, I smiled at my son and straightened up in my seat. "Raphael, my son, I did not see you there. Please, come in. Did you need something?" But Raphael remained in the doorway for a long couple of seconds before he slowly made his way into the room, tentatively stopping a few feet away from the table.

"Are you alright, Sensei?"

I forced down any of the tears that might have remained and nodded, trying to appear more composed.

"Yes, I am alright. I was just… going through some old memories with your brother."

Raphael put his book down on the kitchen counter and came closer, looking over the contents of the box, then picked up a toy robot. It was a small, stubby little thing with tiny lights for eyes and claws for hands. He smiled softly and stroked a thumb over its body, snorting a soft laugh.

"I remember this thing- he made it for Leo when we were kids. Man, he used to love playing with it... until he decided he was too old for it." He smirked and looked towards the living room, where his older brother no doubt was still sitting, before the smirk turned sadder and he put the toy down again. "He was always good at that, wasn't he, Sensei? Taking old junk that no one would want for anything and turning it into something great."

I smiled sadly at him, nodding gently even as I felt new tears form in my eyes. "Mm, yes. Your brother was always very resourceful and clever. I remember how amazed I was when he set up our electricity and heating when he was still so very young. Or when he found an oven and a refrigerator and managed to get them working. His intelligence always managed to surprise me, even when I thought he had run out of surprises."

Raphael nodded slowly, looking over the photos and toys and mementos before picking a smaller version of that beloved purple mask, wrapping the tails around his fingers and caressing the fabric absently.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I used to think that there was nothing he couldn't do or make, even if it didn't always work great at first. And every time he would come up with something new, I'd think that 'this is it. This is the time when it won't work or breaks down or whatever.'" He chuckled lightly, although it sounded more akin to a sob than a laugh. "Heh, I was always wrong. 'Cause even if it didn't work perfectly or blew up in his face at first, he would work and improve it until it did. I never knew if I admired or hated him for always proving me wrong."

I smiled dryly and pursed my lips at my second oldest. Raphael had always had a problem with pride, though it had never been as bad as his anger and he had never liked admitting defeat, being wrong or his brothers doing better than him with anything. His competitive relationship with his older brother quickly came to mind and how they had always competed over who was best or strongest, but he had also taken it hard that his younger brother was smarter than him and did better with his academic studies than he did. It had also irked him that Donatello had grown taller than him when they all hit the first stages of puberty, but he calmed down and let it go once he realized that Donatello wouldn't be growing more muscular and would remain lean and lanky, whereas the others grew more stocky, buff builds.

Still, Raphael clearly also had a great deal of respect for his younger brother's intelligence, determination and resilience, just as I had, even if it was like pulling teeth to get him to admit it out loud.

As if reading my mind, Raphael sighed heavily and clenched the mask tightly in his hands. "There were so many times he blew my mind with everything he ever did and built. So many times he saved my sorry shell with one of his brilliant ideas or inventions." He shuddered and closed his eyes tightly; his face was scrunched up and he pursed his lips, visibly fighting back tears. He took a shaky breath and as he kept talking his voice grew thick with emotion. He was gasping for air between every other word.

"I always gave him such a hard time; always teasing him and pushing him around and being a jerk. He must've thought I hated him, with how often I treated him like dirt and bullied him and took him for granted. I just wish I had told him that I thought he was great more often than I did. I think I can count on both hands all the times I ever told him he did something good. Or told him that I-"

His voice broke and a weak, choked sob escaped his lips. He lifted one hand to his mouth, as if he was trying to force his sobs back into his mouth and swallow them back down again, and a few tears managed to slip out from between his tightly clenched eyelids.

"That I love him."

I felt my heart shatter in my chest as I saw my son, who was normally so strong and never showed many emotions other than anger, suddenly appear so fragile; barely holding himself together. It truly looked as if he was going to shatter at any moment and I felt desperate to help him, even as I knew that sometimes one needed to break in order come back together stronger than before. I suppose that is the downside of being both a teacher and parent to your children; wanting them to learn how to be strong while at the same time wanting to protect and shelter them from everything that could hurt them.

"Raphael…"

He shook his head as he tried to collect himself, swallowing hard and trying to force back his tears. He took a deep, snotty breath through his nose and was now clenching the mask so tightly that I almost worried he might tear the fabric. He slowly opened his eyes, now bright and watery, and turned to me. His expression was so vulnerable.

"I miss him, Sensei." His voice was broken and just barely above a whisper.

"Oh, Raphael…" I stood up from my seat and opened my arms, wrapping them around him and pulling him close. He, caught up in this rare moment of true emotion, wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my chest.

His grip around me was tight and it left me a little breathless. I sometimes forgot that my sons were no longer boys and had grown quite strong over the years and years of hard training and battle. But I could also feel his desperation and grief as he cried and knew he desperately needed the comfort right now. So I ignored the pain and just held onto my son as tightly as I could.

He was crying into my robe, struggling to breathe, muffled by the fabric of my kimono. Even so I heard his small whisper.

"I miss him so much, Dad."

I gently shushed him, stroking the back of his head and pressing his face close to my heart, resting my cheek against his head while letting my own tears fall.

"I know, my son. I know. I miss him too."

There wasn't much else I could really say in that moment, and there didn't need to be anything said. Sometimes what you truly needed was for someone, anyone, to just hold you and let you share your grief with them. No empty words of comfort, no platitudes that would come across as condescending or facetious, no promises that I knew I couldn't keep. Just the two of us, sharing our grief and finding comfort in the silence.

And for the moment, that was enough. It didn't heal any wounds, it didn't reassure us of the future and it didn't make anything hurt any less.

But it was enough.

A/N: And finally it's done! Hope you liked this chapter and please review, favorite and follow! G'night everybody!