Raphael Pov

There's a steadiness, a chilliness. Tears flow from four sets of eyes as reality sinks it. Polluting our once-innocent-now-damaged-beyond-repair souls. It stings. I squirm, unable to find a cure for this itch that haunts my body.

I might fight back the tears that spring down from my eyes. I've never been one to weep in front of others—it makes for one to look weak, and powerless against the rest of the world. But in the here and now it's different.

Because I'm afraid.

Afraid of death.

The death of my brothers.

The death of myself.

Distraction is key in these moments, I picked up on this quick. Luckily, my brothers are here to take my mind away from the pain.

Little Mikey, the youngest of us all, sobs into his knees, hugging his legs tight against his chest. Across from him, Donatello buries his face the palms of his hands, shaking his head slightly. I assume he's murmuring, judging by the way his cheek bones lift and fall, repeatedly.

And then there's Leonardo. He's staring at me, with sapphire eyes looking like saucers. When I turn my head, we lock gazes, and in the same moment, the two of us squeeze one another's hands. Reassurance.

Dad looms in the corner of the room, just a foot away from Leo. His head is bowed, eyes shut as his hands hold each other in front of him.

"But it's just an estimate! A simple guess! There's a chance that we'll live lon-"

"Donnie, calm down. It's alright. None of this is your fault. Now take a deep breath, in and back out. We'll talk through this together, all of us." Damn Leo for staying so strong. I'm not sure what I would've expected from him, though.

Leonardo has always been fearless, always so strong and diligent. Never backing down, he's the rock everyone in the family leans on.

He's the eldest son who sets the examples for the younger children, the older brother who comforts his little brothers, the loyal friend who wouldn't betray you for all the riches in the world, the fiancé who wouldn't do anything to hurt his partner. Leonardo is everything anyone has ever wanted to be. And he's too damn humble to admit it.

When I look at my older brother, I see a hero, a legend, a protector. When he looks in the mirror, at himself, he sees a teenage boy with a rushed relationship, a boy who couldn't keep out of trouble if his life depended on it. Maybe he just needs a reminder that when you look at your reflection, you aren't really seeing yourself, just a piece of glass.

Choked up, I swallow a deep breath, exhaling a heavy sigh. "Leo, you, uh, had news for us?" I'm hoping its great, like he said it would be. This family could really use something to look forward to.

Lowering his eyes to our hands, he smiles faintly, not exactly putting his all into the action. "Me and Karai wanted to get married next week. But, we can hold off longer if-"

My father cuts Leonardo off, and instead of saying something like, 'go no further,' he says, "Next week would be great. I can work on a schedule, if you wish? I assume you four would like sometime to talk with one another."

As he walks out, with a brisk pace to his footfall, I can't help but smirk, thinking back to the slithering sounds of his tail scraping against the carpets as he walked. It's the subtle things that remind me of my past life.

When the door shuts, Michelangelo slips out of his chair by the desk and creeps over to where me and Leonardo sit on the couch. Curling up into his older brother's warm embrace, I watch closely as Leo wraps his arms around Mikey, whispering softly. He even presses a small kiss to the crown of his head.

Glancing over at Donnie, I pat the cushion next to me, gesturing for him to sit beside me. Hesitantly, he walks over to the couch, and squishes his small, muscular frame between me and the couches arm. I toss my arm over his warm body, pulling him closer to me.

We're all in a bundle. Four teenage mutant ninja turtles. That could be our name, I suppose. It seems to describe is perfectly. But the names sounds geeky, and I wouldn't dare say it aloud.

"I love you guys so much; always have and always will." I don't have to speak very loud for them to hear me, which I appreciate. It feels nice, to whisper rather than yell. So much of my life has been yelling.

Bending his head back to lean it on my shoulder, Leonardo scolds me for my words choice. "You say it like we're on deathbed."

"Yeah well I just found out I'm gonna die 30 years younger than I'd thought an hour ago. Excuse me for being such an ass, Leo," I shoot back with a grim tone blanketing my voice. My teeth clench behind my thick lips, held together tightly by an immense feeling of anger.

Donnie tugs on my arm a bit, as if to tell me to calm down. His hot breath tickles my neck, relaxing me some. His presence comforts me.

"This is news to us all, Raphael." I can hardly tell what sticks out more in his voice; the low growl or sinister warning. "You guys don't have to worry, though. I won't let anything happen to you."

I roll my eyes, and dare to let out a snort. Leonardo lets out a tired sigh, clearly sick of my behavior.

"You don't have to be our savior, ya know? Just 'cause you're the big brother doesn't mean you have to spend your entire life protecting us." Mikey's voice is strong, sounding bold against the silence. "You'll just end up hurting yourself in the end."

Startled, Leonardo's reply is slightly delayed. "Don't worry about me, Mike, I'll be okay. Everything is gonna be okay."

I snort, and in my arms, Donnie lets out a faint chuckle, just as Michelangelo sits up, pushing away from Leo. I watch intently as the youngest punches the eldest in the chest. His fist is curled into a fight, unforgiving ball. I can only imagine the pain of the blow.

"What was that for?!" Leonardo demands, leaping off of the couch. In his eyes, a storm of confusion and shock rages.

Mikey wastes no time standing up, mimicking Leo's exact pose. I tug Donnie a little closer, holding him against me in a protective sort of way. "For treating me like a little kid! I'm seventeen Leo, not fucking six!" His angered yells—bellow would be an understatement—rings throughout the room, bouncing off the wall, shattering my eardrums, cracking picture frames of our once-calm family. "I'm not any younger than you. I don't need protecting, because despite my obvious ignorance, I have gone through as much shit as you."

'What an accusation,' I think to myself, 'to tell somebody that they're treating you like a little kid, like they're above you.'

"Yeah, I kinda got that. That's for the clarification, though."

"Can we just stop it with your guys' pity argument and move on to what's more important?" Tucked under my wing, Donatello croaks, taking his first step into this heated conversation.

I nod along with my brother, agreeing with him completely. "Yeah, like, for instance, how the hell do we tell everyone about this?"

Leonardo places a hand on each hip, shaking his head profoundly, gaze fixated on the carpet bending between his toes. "No. No, we can't tell anyone, yet. I mean, we can barely handle this news ourselves. Until we're all strong enough to let the others lean on us, no one is going to know."

And that was the final statement.

A Week Later

Karai Pov

White, silky fabric twists between my long fingers. My freshly painted nails look beautiful against the wedding dress I hold tight against my body, thinking back to what I'd looked like hours ago when I first tried it on, just before making my final purchase.

Today was festive, to say the least. Me, Mona, April, and Kala went out to get our nails done, bought new shoes, new dresses for them, and wedding gown for me. Back at the penthouse, Leonardo and his brothers and Dad set up for the wedding—pinning streamer to the tops of the door frames, dividing dozens of chairs into equally placed lines for guests to sit in, building a podium for me and Leonardo to stand on as we finally join hands in marriage. I grin at the thought.

I knew this dress was the one for me the second I pulled it off of the rack. It's simple, and yet it isn't. Tight against my upper torso, my curves show off like they never have. At my hips, the dress poof out into an elegant skirt, with beautifully woven deigns in thin layers of lace.

What excites me more than the dress itself, though, is imagining what Leonardo's reaction will be to seeing me in tomorrow night. We agreed that he wouldn't see the dress until our wedding ceremony, for the sake of dodging bad luck—we've both grown to be rather cautious of our actions, always thinking about the karma that could backfire. We've taken one too many hits, but that doesn't make us comfortable with the sight of a missile.

Downstairs, I hear the front door open, and the sound of Leonardo's blissful voice ushering guests into the house. I don't recognize the voices that follow.

Gently, I fold my dress back into its box, and shove it forcefully into the depths of the guest room closet, where no curious Leo will ever find it.

My feet are brisk as they carry me out of the room. When I hear my name come up in a conversation downstairs, I no longer care about looking presentable, because I'm sprinting in a matter of seconds.

Halting at the edge of the upstairs hallway, my fingers curl around the balcony bars. The wood is hard against my firm grasp.

I stare down at a small group, gathered by the front door. There's three of them—a mother, a father, and a little girl who looks to be about the age of three. She has a pacifier in her mouth, keeping her occupied as her parents talk with my fiancé. Her short, black hair is pulled back into pig tails.

The father is tall, looking like a monster in comparison to the little girl. His hand engulfs hers, small inside large. His hair is dark, like, Leo hair dark. A thinning patch on the crown on his head makes him look older than his wife, though.

And then there's the woman. She scares me. Scares me not because I have no clue as to who I am. Scares me not because she's calling my name, waving me down to greet her, my fiancé standing tall and proud at her side. No, she scares me because she looks exactly like me.

"Mom?"