A/N don't own the turtles... bla blah blah...

I was on Stealthy Stories a few days ago, and found a song with the passage; There on the battle field he stands, down on the battle field he is lost, and, on the battle field, it ends. And instantly fell in love with it. So, this's my one-shot, semi-based around that and another passage from the song...

The song isn't mine- sorry I don't know the name or anything...

There on the Battle Field He stands,

Down on the Battle Field, he is lost,

And, on the Battle Field, it ends.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even, after all he had been through, he had never wished for death. Not once, not ever. Through all the pain of a landed enemy strike, through all the pain caused by cruel words, through all the pain thrown his way by Fate... not once, had he ever wished for death. He had winced, and cried aloud in pain, but never wished for death.

He was no coward, and he loved life. He loved living, loved his brothers, his family, his friends. He did not want to die. But he would die for his family, his friends.

Things had never really been easy- ever. If there was some way for Fate to make things worse, or harder, or impossible, for him and his family- then, it would happen. But, they were all alive. All safe and whole. Scarred, but strong.

They always pulled through. Of which, he was glad. He had known, from a very, very young age, that should anything happen to his brothers, he would... merely stop. He could not, hands down, even think about functioning without him.

Pathetic, really.

They were his greatest weakness, and his most powerful strength, resource. He would give his life for them, in a heart-beat, and enemies had tried to use this weakness... But each attempt had failed.

His enemies had exploited his main weakness, many times, of course, trying to use that weakness against him- merely risked enticing his greatest strength.

Love was a strange thing. It made you weak, and made you strong. Made you vulnerable, and covered you in armor.

Just like Fate, or Luck, Love could swing both ways. It could make you weak, or make you strong.

Life was fickle that way.

And love for his family had made him so strong, kept him going, for so long. Strength was not eternal. Weakness was always waiting for a chance to leap up, and rear it's ugly head.

It was only a matter of time, until Love took a shot at destroying him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trudging up that grassy knoll, they walked together, side by side, but- lacking one, could not be further apart. The Leader, the Rebel, the Brain, the Joker, and the Father.

But one, was gone somewhere, somewhere- he was not coming back. That night... the night spent on the battlefield, when rivers of blood ran through the earth, when bodies built towers, reaching for the sky.

When they lost their brother, their friend, their hero, their worshipper.

Oh, that dark, cold night, the impossible odds, the bravery, the strenght...

That brave death, a gift of life, an act of sacrifice, none were to blame, but all blamed themselves.

Should have moved faster.

Should have paid attention.

Should have done something.

Should have been there.

But pleas for forgiveness fell into the dark night. Wind, snatching the cries from their throats, the rain, wiping the tears from their faces.

The silence afterward, telling of the lost soul, the brave warrior, the brother, the kind soul.

All stood in silence, begging, wishing, for a power, to bring back the dead.

That last breath, etched into their memories.

All had known the cost, all had understood- but none had believed.

Lacking one, the chain was not weak, it was broken. Despite hope, despite love- not all that was broken could be fixed.

The blood, the adrenaline, the lightening, the flashing metal, the screams and cries of the dying, the whispers of the dead.

But he was not afraid. They had seen it in his eyes. He was sorry, but he was unafraid. His head was bloody, but unbowed. He had not winced, nor cried aloud. He had... gone, silently, sadly... Fighting.

He had gone out fighting, bravely. That brave warrior, that brave death.

The ache in their hearts, the pain in their chests, the denial in their eyes. They stood before the wooden cross, up, on that grassy knoll, deep, into the forest, outside the farm-house. They stood, waiting for life to return, for hope to rebuild what had been destroyed. They would go on living, it was not an impossible task, just one they could not fathom.

A task, that he would have wanted them to begin. They stood, on that grassy knoll, beside the small cross, waiting for the dead to give them life. Waiting for the dead to return their hope.

It was peaceful here, tranquil, quiet.

Rest well, brother.

"Go now, my son. You are forgiven, you are loved."

The presence leaving, the calm forgotten, the hate, the anger- the pain. The love.

The need.

The brother of many faces;

Savoir,

Hero,

The Brave Warrior,

The Lost Soul.

Their Armour,

Their Shield,

Their Brother,

Their Protector.

Their Leader.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There on the Battle Field, he stands,

Down on the Battle Field he's lost,

And on the Battle Field, it ends.

So, I hope ya liked. There was gonna be more, but I took a few paragaphs out, cos it reminded me more of Raph, so maybe I'll do a deathfic based on Raph... mwahahah!

hope ya enjoyed!