Step One: - Sorrow -

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It stilled my heart, watching Stockman's robotic arm collide with my brother's head.

I stared in a shocked daze, rooted in horror on the spot, as I watched my brother's body fly across the room, before stopping all too suddenly, head first, slamming against the wall with a sickening crack! His body bouncing violently, hitting the floor, bouncing again and rolling over and over, before finally stopping with another sickening thud, laying motionless.

Where he lay, unmoving, I could see the pool of brilliant, ruby red blood forming, trickling from his punctured veins, spurting and spreading out on the cold, heartless marble floor, stretching out quickly, the red liquid widened it's mass, spreading hastily across the floor, almost alive, like a spilled bucket of water, sloshing everywhere, at every single direction, all at once.

Rage started burning, hate started churning, fury started blazing, and my vision started hazing.

The demon within me was instantly set free.

My feelings, the harm inflected upon a loved one, someone I swore to protect, they welled up so powerfully in my chest, swelling too rapidly, and the heat searing mightily through my veins only fed my rage, tightening my muscles, accelerating my pulse. The demon inside of me grew, larger and larger like the growing shadows dancing against a flame.

With a neck-twisting jerk, I faced my laughing foe, my ears deaf to his words, as I dashed to him, gaze glazed in red fury, eyes burning with suppressed tears, to my unnoticing foe, a mighty roar erupt from my throat, causing my lungs to tighten with the loud gust of breath, almost shrinking too fact with the lack of air, my roar, as inhuman as it sounded, and sky shattering to those who hear, I didn't care.

I pulled out my faithful twin blades, and with a move I freshly mastered, barely a few days ago, I swung them expertly, amidst my blind rage, slicing off that accursed arm of his, the wretched arm that dare lay harm to my beloved brother, and just as it disconnected the arm socket, just before it even managed to fall to the floor, I swing my faithful blades rapidly, adding more slicing and dicing movements, and watched with pure hatred, as the now tiny bit of metal fell with an echoing, multiple coin-like jingling sounds to the cold, hard floor.

As my foe staggered back, gasping, his mind acknowledging the sudden attack, he was taken by the sudden counter assault; a little late in my opinion. But soon, almost just as quickly, he recovered, whipping out something like a weapon from his other remaining, robotic arm, that hologram face of his grinning so egoistically, boasting to the point I found it to be very sickening!

I snarled in rage, my red-glazed vision blurry still, my mind swimming with so many thoughts, watching him ball his fist, punching a hole in the floor, before everything was bathed in fluorescent, blinding light.

It took a moment, awaiting the flash bomb to fade it's light away, as I felt my remaining family member shift behind me, my remaining two frightened brothers and worried father. There were words, urgent, fearful, there was panic, mourning, and I knew my rage will not make things better, so I sucked a few calming breaths, tucking my blades in place, I turned, assisting my brothers to tend to our injured sibling.

Baxter had escaped my blades for now, but I will find him, and I will make him pay!

My beloved brother, Raphael, on the other hand, had been in bed for a whole week.

His face, my beloved brother's face, Raphael, though badly bruised, the side of his head was suffering from a terrible crack, now swoon and strapped, bandaged tightly, his smooth, forest green skin was a shy shade away from black, as his head was wrapped tightly with multiple bandages, stained with patches of blush-pink and copper red.

The bandaged covered most of his head, save his eyes, snout and mouth, with his split lip and few stitches here and there.

Despite all the chaos that decorated his head, his face remained gentle, it expressed no pain whatsoever. His face was tranquil and almost emotionless in his quiet slumber, he looked so gentle and kind, so different, it amazed me how different he looked when he weren't frowning; yet it also terrified me as to his continuous sleep, threatened to never awaken, to take him away from us.

It had only been a week, since we moved here, after ever since our home had been destroyed, the Elentian lair, or stronghold, as Don prefers to say, we had sought shelter in what, now, had been completely ransacked, demolished to nothingness, scattering my beloved brothers and dear father across the city, homeless, injured, defenseless and alone.

It had been only a few days, since I managed to go across the city to find them all, retrieving them one by one, sheltering them in this abandoned pumping station, claiming residence to this forsaken place, and thankfully, so far, we still had not been discovered.

Raphael, of course, was very upset, at the loss of our past home, he blamed himself for it, that he should have stayed, to have held his ground, to fend our home and take out Karai, the offender who dare assault us in our territory, hopefully for once and for good, to rid her from our lives. I refused, and so did master Splinter, for we knew he was angry, but he insisted on going out, turning a deaf ear to our reasoning, wanting and causing havoc to those who stand in his way, hoping to attract Karai's undivided attention.

Of course, he didn't exactly get it, but that was until he accidentally came across one of Bishop's agents, supported by Baxter Stockman's new robotic body, well armed and equipped for battle. Baxter wanted us for dissection, so he assaulted us, and that is was when Raph managed to fend for himself, until our arrival, holding our ground, defending ourselves.

If only I had been more careful, if only I had been quicker, if only I have paid more attention, I would have seen Baxter Stockman in his new body, stepping out of the shadows behind me, readying his monstrous fist to literally bash my head open.

Only to have Raphael jump in the way, receiving the punch for me instead.

Don said that Raphael had gained a seriously sever concussion, probably permanent brain damage, and that he is in a deep coma; he has no knowledge of when Raphael would wake up, or even if he woke up, for there was a very big chance Raphael is suffering from internal bleeding, and even if his mutated genes were to tend to those wounds, we don't know if he'd come back to us, normal.

Raphael had a slim chance of survival, and it was my fault.

My brother was dying.

I'm sitting here, in the makeshift infirmary, in our new home, the pumping station, praying to god to give back my brother. The infirmary was not even an enclosed room, it was more the setup of equipment we managed to retrieve from the damaged lair, and placed together to frame the area, in which the bed and medicine cabinet would be placed.

Raphael lay peacefully still, on a simple white futon, tucked delicately under many blankets to keep his warm, hoping that he would feel more comfortable, in his over still slumber, as heart wrenching as it is, a simple white, fluffed pillow under his head, positioning his head right, as to not stop the flow of blood, if his neck was to be propped too high or too low.

With my eyes squeezed shut tight, my hands clasped together, fingers digging into the flesh, latching tightly to my fist, pressing my fist to my temple, my elbows digging into the flesh of my thighs, a little over my knees. I sat on a simple, humble, wooden chair we've retrieved from the old lair's kitchen, trying desperately to calm myself, to calm my frightened, racing heart.

And I prayed.

I want my brother back, God! Please, don't do this to me! I know it's selfish, but please, you can take me instead, but don't take him, please! I didn't leave my home and family for two months, just to come back and see one of them die before my very eyes! Please!

"Leo?" a voice spoke from behind me, soft, concerned and gentle, "Dude, it's getting late, get some sleep, I'll take watch."

I turned around to face Mikey, his skin pale and weary, he was still weary from lack of sleep, not to mention the meager food supplies, his legs aren't as strong as they used to be, "I'm fine." I murmured.

"No, you're not!" he argued, grumping slightly, putting a hand on my shoulder, "You've been up for over two days! I don't remember seeing you sleep," he squeezed my shoulder gently, his voice softened into that concerned, pleading tone once more, "I'll look after Raph, if- when he wakes up, I'll call you, I promise!" he smiled weakly.

I gave a negative shake, refusing to leave, "I'm not leaving," I spoke, voicing my thoughts, "and you can't make me." I bit back a hiss.

He sighed, his hand slid off my shoulder giving my shell a tender pat, "Yeah, I'd like to hear you say that to Sensei."

I huffed, a smile curved on my lips, "I wouldn't go that far." I smiled weakly.

At that, he chuckled, "Yeah, I figured you'd say that."

I sighed, unclenching my fists, and it stung, the bruised skin that was pressed under my nails, but I ignored it, for the pain in my heart was far too great, compared to the meager tingling on my hand.

I knew that I had to keep faith, that my brother will be alright, that he wont die and leave us behind, but the wetness that started behind my eyes, bitter, hot and salty, when I refused to let them out, they started down my snout, pleading for release, and I found myself swallowing sniffling, and rubbing the wetness away, sucking pained breathes, trying to calm my throbbing heart.

Startlingly, I completely forgot Mike was there, not until his caring arms wrapped gently around my head, tugging me closer, tucking my head between the curve of his shoulders, pressing my head to his chest, and I blinked, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. I froze for a moment, trying to understand his gesture, but once realization hit me, it was enough for my walls to break.

Although I did my best, to keep my cooling body from trembling, my hands gingerly shaky, wrapping around Mike's midsection, tightening the hold, pressing myself into him, seeking just a little more comfort, he moved a hand, delicately and lovingly, caressing my head. That didn't stop the hot river of tears from escaping me from under my eyelids, soaking my blue mask, gathering up into a small stream, some tears slid down my face, down my cheeks and were dripping from my chin, while others slid down Mike's plastron, before hitting the floor.

He was standing next to me, his hefty arms circling my upper body into a tight, affectionate, brotherly embrace, and I released a whimpering breath, but it only resulted in brining down the rest of my walls, I was reduced to a sobbing heap. In response to my low whimpering, I gripped tighter to the sides of his shell, burying my face in his plastron, and Mike tugged just a little, and I slid off the chair, we settled on the floor, next to Raph's bedding, my upper body slowly crashing in his lap, where he sat with his legs bucked under him.

I can't stand it, I can't believe I've spent two long, agonizing months with the Ancient one, and barely on the first battle with my brothers, since my return, I already goofed up, resulting the near-death of one of them!

What have I gained from my travel? Was it not to gain more knowledge, to improve myself and my abilities, to protect them?

If so, then why had I failed so miserably? It doesn't make any sense!

"Leo, don't blame yourself." Mike whispered gently, one hand caressing my head, and the other placed on my shoulder, going up and down, rubbing softly, "I'm sure Raph will be okay, it's not your fault." He continued.

I swallowed, desperately wanting to compose myself; my eyes a mere slit, more tears slipped out, making my vision blurry and swimming, unclear, and I had to squeeze my eyelids shut, to stop the wetness from flowing, from overpowering me and my emotions. I just laid there, half sitting, half laid on the cold, hard floor, my upper body half curled on Mike's lap, my head pressed to his plastron, his arms holding me close, securely, and guilty pain blistering through my chest, making me feel very uncomfortable.

"But- it is my fault." I croaked weakly, swallowing again, "Two months, I trained and worked my best, only to come back home, and fail on the very first group battle since my return." I frowned, clutching tighter to Mike's shell, pulling myself closer, pressing against him, not thinking if it hurt him, "What good was my training, if Raph is to die?"

"Leo," Mike whispered, his voice thoughtful and gentle to my ears, though lecturing, "tell me, what have you learn in your travel, what have you gained from the training with the ancient one?" he questioned.

I opened my eyes, sensing that the tears were on hold for a moment; I lay still, holding him, and being held, I sniffled, composing my thoughts, "I learned many things, and among those things was the unsteadiness of change in everyday life." I began, swallowing the lump in my throat, "Things happen for a reason, and sometimes, no matter how prepared we are, we can not prevent them form happening, that they are inevitable."

I could sense him smiling, if only a little, "Things change, and like you said before: 'One must flow with change.' So please, stop kicking yourself." He pleaded, "Raph knew that- you were probably rusty in group battle, you've been alone too long, and that's why he kept an eye on you, ever since the battle started." He explained, his hand caressing my head, massaging my scalp.

"He had?" I asked tiredly, a little bit confused.

"Yeah, he kinda felt that you were still on edge, maybe a little rusty, with the three of us being there, and knowing you, your attention was divided between fighting and keeping us safe, so it was only natural that you wouldn't have noticed Stockman, coming out like a nightmare from the depths of darkness," he joked weakly, "Raph had to warn you, but he knew there was no time, that why he jumped in, head first."

"It's just- I feel so guilty." I murmured, slipping into sleep, I was so exhausted.

"You're just tired," he replied, stroking my head, "get some rest, you'll be fine in the morning."

I nodded against his plastron, eyes clamped shut, but hands still latching to the sides of his shell, "Mikey?"

"Yeah?" he breathed softly, his hands clasping the sides of my head gently.

"Thank you." I smiled, just a bit.

"Don't mention it, bro." he chuckled.

Mikey, he had always been the one doing his best to cheer others, when they're feeling down, sad and depressed, even if he's battling his own feelings, his uneasiness and fears. I know I should have been stronger than this, it was supposed to be me comforting him, telling him Raph will be alright, that everything will be alright, that things will workout somehow.

But, I guess- I guess I knew I couldn't have done it right.

I knew the pain was too great, that I would not be able to come to accept what had happened to my beloved, hardheaded, yet gentle, caring brother, and I allowed Mike to be there for me, to comfort his broken leader.

I'm supposed to be the strong, almost heartless leader, to not let my kindness sway me away from doing the correct thing, to let my mind balance the satiation, to follow the right choice, not follow my heart, and befall incorrect, harming my family and myself in result. But that was the brother they all scorned and hated, they mentally shunned me, they rejected me, when I blocked out my feelings, hardening myself, curling tightly into a shell I've built around myself, they hated that other side of me, they resented it, and I understand how they must have felt.

'What's gotten into you? You used to be better than that!'

'Are you mad? You didn't have to go that far!'

'Leo! Stop it! That's enough! You'll kill him!'

'Hey! I've had it with that attitude, Leo!'

'Enough! I don't wan to hear anymore!'

'One more time, Leo! Just one more time, and I swear I'm gonna- !'

There was one phrase, that Donny once spat at me, that lingered in my head, throughout my travels across Japan, and even during my stay with the ancient one, and it strung, I couldn't keep it out of my head, because it hurt, and it hurt very deeply.

'You Are Not My brother! My brother would never treat us like trash!' he howled in my face, tears streaming down his mask-less face, teeth grit and fists clinched, holding himself, suppressing the urge to punch me right on the snout. I remember, I remember I froze in shock, bewildered at my usually calm brother's fuming rage, watching him twirl, leaving me in his bitter wake.

Sometimes, I wish if I could turn back time, a time when we never had to suffer such things.

But without these trials in life, then how are we to experience life, to grow up stronger?

I don't know, I just wish if I knew.

Xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: my first death fic. Part one of six, or maybe seven. Leo centric, but focuses on Raph.