Michelangelo was having a ball. He loved the chaos and noise of a full house, and seeing Greg so off-kilter, the man could barely stand up straight. Greg and Sayuri were obviously restraining themselves, politely remaining in the company of the household, when they probably really wanted to separate.
The orange-masked turtle shook his head as his first impression of Sayuri came to mind. He had felt intense anger toward her when two of his brothers had been captured by the Akiudo, for something he deemed entirely her mistake. Sayuri's apparent lack of remorse had only fanned the flames of his fury, and had made it difficult for the turtle to accept her continued presence among them.
But that's all in the past, he told himself. She ended up coming through for us big time, and she's really been there for Hisui and Shunshi. Mike stole another glance at the Asian woman, marveling at the softness in her features. It was a sharp contrast to the desperate unhappy renegade who'd made it her life's goal to bring down the Akiudo at any cost.
What a difference a year can make, he thought with satisfaction. I'm sure glad this one is closing up.
Sayuri was sitting on the couch talking to Leonardo, but Mike noticed the way she sent inconspicuous looks in Greg's direction. The turtle held back the snort that started to rise. Shell, I bet she's driving Heff crazy, and she doesn't even know it. Someone is going to have to dismiss them soon, for their own good.
The blue-masked turtle was drilling the woman with his questions about the captured men from the Akiudo, but Sayuri didn't appear to mind.
Of course she doesn't mind, he mused with a smirk. Besides us, she's the only one who knows what happened to the Akiudo. It's not like she can casually bring it up in conversation with one of her colleagues. She has to bury it all and keep everything inside. It's probably freeing to talk it out this way.
"Are you sure Takashi isn't going to succeed in getting a reduced sentence?" Leonardo was asking.
"The first judge gave him the maximum penalty permitted by the law," Sayuri replied. "I know Takashi's type, though, and he will not give up easily. He will go through with an appeal, I guarantee it. It is a slow process in my country, which could take years."
"Could an appeal actually do him any good? Takashi is still viewed as being guilty as sin, isn't he?"
Sayuri laughed. "Well, yes, Leonardo-san, but that is true of almost every criminal in my country. It is a widely held public consensus that the accused are guilty of whatever crime they're being charged with. If the police have not obtained a formal confession, it is said that the one accused is still denying it."
"Have you seen him up close at all?" Leo asked.
"I followed the trial, and sat in the back during a couple of sessions in the courtroom. I was approached by the media on a few occasions because of the sting that got the rest of my old team killed by the Akiudo, but I would not comment. I believe the more space I put between that man and I, the better off I will be."
Leonardo nodded. "Absolutely."
Mike saw the troubled look in his oldest brother's eyes, and couldn't help feeling mystified. I wish I knew what he was thinking. From his concern, you'd think that Takashi and his slave traders were still out there. Why is he acting like we have something to be worried about?
Michelangelo cast away the thought of the disbanded gang, and vowed to ask Leonardo about his concerns later. The orange-masked turtle sighed quietly as the excitement from the others arriving ceased to fuel his body. It felt like he was starting to battle with just keeping his eyes open.
He didn't realize he was nodding off until a hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. Mike looked up to see Luke, and he smiled sheepishly.
"C'mon," the man said evenly. "You can see everyone in the morning. Right now, you need sleep."
Michelangelo pouted slightly, but didn't argue as he got to his feet. The turtle didn't see Rebecca, and made a quick scan of the room to locate her. The curly-haired woman wasn't in sight. His brow furrowed as Luke guided him out of the Great Room. "Have you seen Becky, Doc?"
Luke shook his head. "Not for a while. The bathroom door is closed – let's knock as we go past."
Michelangelo paused by the door, and rapped firmly on the wood with his fist. "Anyone in there?"
"It's just me, Mikey," Becky returned after a moment.
"Are you okay?"
"Sort of."
"I'm opening the door, Beck." When he didn't hear her protest, Mike turned the door knob and found the young woman leaning over the sink.
"Did you get sick?" he asked.
"Uh huh," she said faintly.
"Ready to come to bed with me?"
She nodded a little miserably, and he stretched out an arm to draw her to his side. Luke accompanied them back down the hall to their room, where he proceeded to check over Rebecca. The woman gave Luke one-word answers to his questions, making it even more apparent that she just wanted to sleep.
"You're getting close to being dehydrated again," Luke mentioned. "If you can't keep anything down tomorrow, we'll need to go to the IV."
"Whatever you need to do," Becky replied. "I'm in your hands, Doc. Just get me through the next few months until I have a healthy baby, and I'll never ask you for anything again."
"That's not how it works, Becky," Luke said quietly. "You know I'll do everything in my power, but it isn't as if I'm doing you a favor. Do you want something to help you sleep?"
Rebecca turned her gaze to Mike for a beat, then shook her head at Luke. "No, I don't think I need it. I'm fine, Doc. I'm just going to hang out with my husband until I fall asleep, if that's okay."
Luke nodded. "I'll never force that kind of medicine on you."
The man crossed around the side of the bed, and Mike settled in for Luke to take a quick look at him too.
"If you have any problems, call me," Luke reminded them. "Don't hesitate."
Rebecca pressed up against Mike's plastron as the doctor left the room, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"Sure you're okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah – it's nothing new, Mikey. I'm worn out, and this is exactly where I need to be."
"Good," he said decisively. "'Cause it's where I want you to be."
Michelangelo felt the vibration of her chest when she giggled, and Becky rested her head against his shoulder contentedly. "Get some sleep, Beck. I love you."
"I love you too," she murmured.
Mike felt completely relaxed, more so than he could remember being in a long time. The tightness in his chest had become so familiar, it felt unusual for it not to bother him the minute he tried to settle into a deep pattern of breathing. It was merely a gift to feel like he could fall asleep, without wondering if he would wake up.
It was dark, yet he had a strong sense of everything around him. The surroundings were so familiar he knew what they looked like without having to see them under the harsh blast of lighting. The cool cement under his feet didn't register his footsteps, but the rat seemed to have heard him anyway.
"You may come in, Michelangelo. You do not need to keep walking past the door."
The orange-masked turtle had been talking himself into entering his Sensei's quarters, nervous about facing his Master in this fragile state. Things had gotten worse over the last month, and Splinter had gone downhill more sharply than he'd ever expected.
But he doesn't deserve to have me ignoring him, just because I don't know what to say or do, he told himself. Even if I just sit there, it's better than doing nothing at all.
Mike held his breath as he entered the room, hesitating close to the door. He'd made every effort to not let his Sensei see him cry, but the goal seemed unattainable.
The rat raised his head a couple of inches, his whiskers twitching as he gazed at the turtle. "You do not have to come near if you do not wish to, my son."
"I want to, Sensei, it's just…" he faltered. "I want to be there for you, but I don't know how. I feel like I'm going to fall apart, and I don't think that would help."
"You put too much pressure on yourself, Michelangelo. I am not relying on you to lift me up, my son. I only want to see you."
The turtle squirmed awkwardly as he took a seat in the hard-back chair. "I didn't know it could get harder than it already was. I'm sorry I can't do anything, Master. I'm sorry you have to suffer."
"Life is a gift, Michelangelo, but no one gets to hold on to it forever. I do not regret that I have to leave this life, because it has been so full. But I am sorry that I have to leave all of you. The joy I have left is in the gifts I have been blessed with, that I never asked for or expected. You, my sons, are the ones that make me want to linger on."
Mike swallowed hard as he fought back emotion. "Master, you don't have to keep suffering just because of us. We want you here too…but we can't be selfish. I can't be selfish. You shouldn't have to go through this, not if you're just worried about us. We'll make it, Ootosan. We've got each other. It's not going to be fun for a while, but we'll be okay. We'll miss you, but that's better than you being in constant pain. Please don't keep putting yourself through this for us."
Splinter's hand stirred on the bed, and Mike reached to take it. "I'm sorry for avoiding you, Father. I wanted to be strong for you, but I can't. I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want you to be disappointed and let down."
"You are not a disappointment to me, Michelangelo, nor are your brothers. You are everything that has made this life worth living. It is not easy for anyone to say goodbye to those they truly love."
The orange-masked turtle clenched his eyes shut for a long moment. "We'll be okay, Sensei," he repeated. "You don't have to keep fighting this. You deserve some rest."
Michelangelo looked at the floor as the wheezing in his Sensei's chest became more pronounced. It didn't even sound like he should have been able to speak.
"I am so grateful, my son, to have known all of you. I am grateful for your spirit, which has been like a light in a very dark place." Splinter paused for a long moment, but Mike sensed that he wasn't finished. "I regret nothing. I look back, and I am only thankful for the chance I had to be a father, and the opportunity to raise the four finest sons that ever walked the earth."
"That's only because you're the best dad," Mike added. "Everything we are, it's because of you. I'm gonna remember that for the rest of my life. A part of you won't die, because it's inside us, along with the things you taught us."
Splinter's smile brightened his face for an instant before the shadow returned. "Promise me you will not be hard on yourself, Michelangelo," he said with effort. "I know that you feel the need to be the encourager, but you have to grieve too."
"I'll try, Sensei." Michelangelo didn't stop the threatening tears from falling this time.
His Master's hand had been gripping his in return, but now Splinter's pressure was lessening.
"If you need to sleep, go ahead, Sensei. I'll be right here," Mike told him. I'm not ready to lose you, but I don't want to watch you suffer just to make us feel better, he added inwardly.
The look in Splinter's onyx eyes seemed to indicate that his Master could hear his thoughts. "Sorrow can be overwhelming, Michelangelo, but no pain lasts forever. It does not matter what you are facing, there has never been a night without end. Remember that, my son, and remember that I love you."
"I love you too, Ootosan." He set his father's hand down on the bed as Splinter's eyes closed.
The rat's chest relaxed momentarily, becoming so still that Mike wasn't sure if he was breathing. Fear struck his mind like a cold shock, but then he noticed his chest shudder with effort.
You can't keep this up on our account, Sensei. We're all going to have to let you go.
Mike opened his eyes suddenly, aware that his pillow was wet with tears, and his mind was heavy with the memory of one of his last conversations with his Master. The temptation to bawl existed, but instead he wound his arms tighter around Rebecca, clinging to her warmth.
Life is a gift…I feel like someone gave mine back to me. I've got to make sure it counts for something.
Becky stirred in his arms, but didn't wake up as he kissed the back of her head.
Splinter's gotta live on through me to reach my kid. Everything he taught us…Geesh, I think I need to brush up over the next few months, he thought, as he felt sleep overtaking him again.