Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT

A/N: I am so glad that y'all are liking this story so far. I was so nervous about negative reactions when I first started but I'm definetly not getting them! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Chapter 3

I Promise

We watched the fire until it was nothing but a pile of smoldering ashes. My sons were gone.

Turning my muzzle upwards I looked towards the stars, wondering if I would find four new ones burning brightly in the cool night's sky. I inhaled the night air. I could still smell them. I remembered what I had said before and knew that it would be fullfilled.

I thought of the instruments for the ritual seppuku suicide lying in my chambers and smiled slightly to myself. What would they think of me now? I already had formulated my plans, they would go to fruition easily. All that it would take would be my own courage and two paws to work at them.

I glanced sideways at Ms. O'Neil and Mr. Jones., slightly irritated at them whispering. Sometimes I wonder what exactly they think these ears are for. Even in my mutated form I have always had a more refined sense of smell, hearing and touch than humans. I could hear every word of their conversation. They were talking of moving me out of the Lair to live with one of them, for comfort and care.

Inwardly I scoffed at their ludicrous thoughts. What did they think of me, a pile of fragile china? No. I do now need extra care. If I was a human it would be different. They could get others involved, the governemnt and social services and the like. In that case I would likely be placed in a nursing home. For once my species intervened for the better for I had to worry about none of that. I would not be living much longer anyway. It did not matter. Nothing mattered except my upcoming plans.

Slowly I bent down and fingered the warm ashes. I rubbed my fingertips together, getting the feel of them absorbed in my skin. I wanted to scoop them up, to take them with me, but I knew that it would be no use. I could not do anything with them anyway. Then again, my human friends might come to use to me at this time. I did not want my sons ashes left on the trash barge. I had not the time to do it myself, time was so short and if I waited too much longer than my prime opportunity would be gone. My enemies were on the move. I must myself move as quickly.

"Ms. O'Neil." I only said her name and she started at the sound of it. It was the first thing that she heard me say in quite some time. She rushed over and knelt at my side, her face anxious with worry. I ignored it and continued on without looking at her. "If I could ask a favor of you."

"Yes, anything. Please." she looked worried. Why would she be worried? I am a ninja master.

"I wish for you and Mr. Jones to gather the ashes of my sons. You can scatter them in the Lair or in another place that brought them great joy. If you don't wish to do this, then you may keep them for yourselves. This would bring me happiness in the end and I am sure that they would enjoy it if their remains were with you, as you were thier friends. This is my task of you." My words sounded hollow, I know. But at the moment I simply did not care.

She looked troubled. Her eyebrows scrunched together and her lip trembled slightly with yet unshed tears as she spoke. "What do you mean, 'in the end' Master Splinter? And why don't you want to help? Surely you would-"

"That is enough!" I snapped. My tail slapped the floor as I ground my walking stick impatiently.

I sighed. I did not mean to snap at her. It was unintentional. Ah, well, I need to hurry. My time here is running short. "I said that it is the end because it is and cannot help you for precisely that same reason. I trust that you will heed my last wishes, Ms. O'Neil."

Her mouth opened in a wide O as what I said began to sink in. "What! W-with all due respect, Master Splinter, you don't plan on killing yourself or anything, do you? Please, let me help!" Mr. Jones, hearing the conversation, sat beside her, nodding in agreement to everything she said. His face was equally as worried, equally as clueless.

"Yeah." He piped in. "Besides, don't you wanna get the guys who did this? Don't you care?"

That was too much. Did he think that I did not care! I swung my walking stick before realizing it, slamming the end of it straight into his chest. The blow knocked him down from his sitting position. He scrunched up his face, rubbing his sternum. I repressed the urge to sniff. He was fortunate that I realized what I was doing in time to lighten the blow. A few inches lower with more pressure would have been a killing blow. Right now all he would sustain is a colorful bruise. Ms. O'Neil looked at me with shock as she aided the man.

I took the opportunity to turn and leave the area. They knew my wishes, that is all that I had wanted to convey to them. None of this banter was necessary.

Ever since the flames died down the other humans have been getting transportation ready and I intended to be on the first one back.

Mr. Jones managed to gain a breath. "Hey, wait Masta Splinter! What about what I said?"

"What I do is my own business." I replied as I hopped on the water transport. I knew that he would want to help but the clumsy oaf would just get in the way. Ms. O'Neil would be better but the answer would still be no. I needed to do this alone, for my failure to my sons. For my failure as a father.

These thoughts were still in my head when I reached the lair. I had to resist gagging. The smell of raw blood and flesh was still pungent in the air. The blood of my sons. It was coupled with the horrid stench of loosened bowels, something that hapens in death but is no less humiliating. Quickly I crossed the main room to begin my preparations.

I picked up the newer kimono that my sons had made for me and slipped it over the one that I already wore. Grabbing Michelangelo's nunchucku I slipped these in the inner belt. Raphael's sai were the next to go. Snatching a sling of leather I quickly slipped on the crude sword holster that I had made for my self and put Leonardo's katana along my back. It was too large for me to carry comfortably on my hip. Then I picked up Donatello's bostaff and hefted its weight. I would carry this one in place of my walking stick. Finally I picked up the tanto and tucked it in a pocket behind my back, between my shoulder blades. It seemed to sizzle through my skin, reminding me of the task I had to do should I fail.

Meticulously I made my way around the Lair, seeing the evidence once more to be sure that I was correct in their identities. The scrap of black cloth. The blood of the enemies that my sons had spilled, their acrid stench beating at my nose even through everything else. I even used the outlines of the fallen bodies, the outlines made by both dust and blood.

Turning swiftly I made my way out of the Lair, my back turned to our once peaceful home, never to be seen again. Before I crossed the threshold for the last time I stopped to inhale the scent. I do not mean the smell of blood and death, battle and enemies. I reached passed that to what it was before. Warm, amusing, the air chocked with the essence of discipline and love, youthfullness and energy. For a moment, a brief, yet overwhelming moment, the air itself cackled with it like electricity moving through the air. It is this that I inhaled deeply, reaching every cell in my body from the wiskers on my noes to the tip of my tail. It would be this that I carried with me on this journey, this mission. This promise.

I made my way to the upper levels and finally to the city streets. I wasted no time in leaping on top of a semi truck going the direction that I wished to go. My enemies were this way. They always were my enemies but now they are seen to me as much much more. They invaded my home, murdered my sons, and therefore signed their own death certificate. They were nothing more than the sentenced awaiting death by my hands.

Something landed on my cheek and I fingered it, looking at it curiously. It was a single droplet of water. Salt water. For some reason it took some time for me to realize that I was looking at my own tears. I faced the wind, faced the upcoming battle. I knew that there was going to be pain and that it was going to be difficult but it was something that must be done. These tears demanded it. Without warning my shoulders trembled and shook as the long awaited sobs finally wracked my body. My vision became blurry with tears as the liquid poured from my eyes. I hugged the weapons to me tighter, their cold presence somehow managing to warm me.

I love you, my sons. I promise, on my honor, that you will be avenged.

A/N: I know, kinda short. Ya gotta forgive me on that one. The next one will be more action packed, I promise! Throw in any ideas or thoughts that you might have for me.

Toodles!