A/N - 2k3 vers in mind, but you can picture whichever you like. Takes place somewhere in later seasons. This is going to be dark, brutal, bloody and emotional. M-rated for a reason. Blood, limbs chopped off, violence, languish, tears, grieving, possible self-harming, emotional breakdowns and death. Nothing is really off limit. No T-Cest. It's not that kind of story.

It's been a long while since I wrote fanfics, so I'm a bit rusty. This is a new take of one of my old stories - A Great Lost - which I had no idea where I was going with and I feel like I messed it up completely. This will go as it go and hopefully you will like it.

Please enjoy.

Prologue

I can see every tear you've cried,

Like an ocean in your eyes...

Thump–thump, thump–thump, thump–thump.

He was painfully aware of how hard and loud his heart was beating inside his chest as he lay on this cold, wet roof. Rain was hitting his face, making sure he wasn't losing his conscious just yet. The twin-bladed sword that was about to come for his throat reflected the fear in his eyes. The turtle leader knew he should move out of the way before it struck – he told himself to move! But the slightest movement he managed to make, had the deep gash in his left side throbbing with such agonizing pain he was beginning to fear one of his organ had been hit. He had not felt this amount of pain since he had been stabbed through the shoulder which had resulted in a piece of his shell had been broken off. He has beginning to become woozy as the blood gushed through his fingers and putting pressure on the oozing wound was becoming increasingly difficult as the seconds passed by. Yet he was desperate to try another attempt to move. He had to. Though the familiar katana pierced through his right thigh made the attempt futile. That and the fact that his feet were slipping on the growing pool, mixed of blood and rain underneath him. Each attempt had drained the remaining strength out of him. He eyed his precious sword, and a sting of betrayal entered his heart.

The only thing left he could do – was to accept that this was it and watch on in fear. The fearless leader knew this was it. He could feel it. See it. He was meeting his demise – and he was terrified.

"Leo!"

"No!"

"Leo, move outta the way!"

"Leonardo!"

The heart breaking cried of his family where like a siren's song, wailing over the rooftops and into the dark, stormy night. Their desperate, horrified and painfilled cried should give him the strength to move like every time in the past – but he was just so, so tired. His eyelids were so heavy and it took so much effort to keep them open and eyes focused. He wanted to give in to the beckoning darkness that crept ever so closer. Fighting it off as much as he possibly could, he just wanted to see his family for one last time.

With his vision going in and out of focus, he searched for the whereabouts of his three younger brothers and father. With colors mixing together and growing grey and black, it took him far longer to find the distinguish colors of his brothers in the sea of enemies. Using his hearing, he followed the sounds of metal slamming against metal, and wood against flesh, until he could see the familiar streaks of red, purple, and orange.

With his vision going in and out of a hazy blur, he spotted his family fighting their own battles with the enemy on the other side of the roof. They threw frantic glances his way and their mouths were moving like they were shouting something he couldn't hear, but each time, it cost them their focus and they paid with a punch or a cut. They were desperate to save him. Doing everything to break free from their fights, but their own battered and wounded bodies prevented them from getting their own opponents off long enough to get to him.

Even through the rain, he could see the tears in his brothers' eyes. There was an ocean of feelings in their eyes as they realized they would not be able to save him no matter how hard and desperate they fought. They knew what he knew – he was going to die tonight. The feeling of failure entered his heart as he watch each of their hearts breaking with that realization. No matter how hard the eldest had fought to protect his family, he had not been able to protect them from this. All he could do, was to pray they would survive, move on and be there for each other like they had always done. He could take comfort in that. A tear fell down his cheek as he met each of his brothers' eyes, saying his silent goodbye before darkness would take him. They will live.

"I'll be right here…"

Even in death, he vowed to watch and protect his family. To help them, to guide them, to comfort them. He would never truly be gone.

The borrowed time was up. Fate had been postpone long enough and now he was going to pay the price because death was collecting. The eldest turtle tore his eyes away from his family and placed them upon his killer. Still feeling the paralyzing fear of what was about to come, he would meet his death straight on. He was a warrior. A ninja. A son. A brother. His name was Hamato Leonardo – son of Splinter – brother of Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo. Death could never take that away from him.

He was aware of how hard and loud his heart was still beating inside his chest as he lay on this cold, wet roof. Rain was hitting his face harder, making sure he hadn't lost his conscious yet. The twin-bladed sword coming for his throat reflected the acceptance in his eyes. But the fateful strike never came. Instead, something soft brushed past his face. Something familiar that had always given him warmth and comfort.

Only when a thick, warm liquid dripped on his cheek, did Leonardo realize he had been gravely mistaken and death's clutches released him. Forcing his eyes to gain focus, a figure stood protectively over his body and the twin-bladed sword was firmly yanked out of the figure and it collapsed right into his arms.

"Master!" Leonardo screamed as the rat master's body went limp in his arms.

Thank you for reading