Disclaimer: "sighs" nope…

*One shot!*

Warning: Character deaths

Alone

Rain came down with such a force it became rivers in the streets, the windows of the houses were sheets of water, undistinguishable from the rain itself. The lights of the street lamps were dreary, a blur of pale color in the darkness.

Something moved below one, almost invisible, then it was gone.

A boy sat up in the window when he saw it and gasped.

"Grandma!" the boy hissed, jumping up and running toward the old woman in a chair by the other window.

Age had dulled her once red hair, now, it was streaked with grey and white, barely red anymore. Her green eyes fell on the boy that was rushing toward her.

"Hush James, your grandpa is resting," the woman whispered.

"Out there!" the boy gasped, "in the shadows…like dad said!"

"Oh?" she murmured, "is there yet a living shadow out there?"

Her old eyes scanned the rain washed window's blurred view, staring intently into the shadows of the street.

"Only one?" the boy asked softly.

The woman's eyes became sad.

"Yes…if…at all," she replied, "You see James…well…dear…remember that old picture book I said not to touch?"

"Yeah," the boy said softly, head cocked a little in curiosity.

"Go get it for your grandmother will you?" she asked.

"O-kay," he said slowly before dashing off to grab the book.

The old woman looked back out the window, just catching a glimpse of something moving outside it.

She smiled a little.

....

He sat, just outside that window, rain plastering his bandana to his jacket. The aged and battle-worn body settling into a semi-comfortable crouch. Old, gnarled, yet still strong hands resting on his aching knees. Stiff joints protested, tired and cold muscles moaned.

But still he sat, and listened.

....

James came back, trying to hold the heavy picture book.

The old woman smiled and gently took the old book in her gnarled and callused hands. Hands that had seen hard work and long hours.

She patted her lap for the boy to come up.

He climbed up, his little innocent hands grasping his grandmother's knowledgeable fingers as she opened the book with one hand.

The boy's eyes widened and he touched the page.

"His name was Splinter," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek, "he was the only father they knew."

"Where is he?" James asked.

The old woman closed her eyes.

"With your mother," she murmured.

"Oh…he…went to heaven too?" James murmured.

"Yes, all of them have," the woman sighed, "Leo went too young though."

One of her tired fingers touched a picture of the blue-clad turtle and another tear streamed down her cheek.

....

He bowed his head and shed his own tears, mixing with the rain. Then lifted his head and looked out, remembering:

LEO! MIKEY!

The truck skidded, fighting to get a grip in the icy snow. Leonardo shoved Michaelangelo aside just before the truck hit him.

The others watched in horror as Leonardo was crushed under the tires of the truck. They found him later…broken and bleeding, beside the road. Just enough strength left to say good-bye.

He gripped Raphael's shoulder.

"Take…care…of…" he rasped.

"Of course," Raphael wept, cradling the broken body in his arms.

Leonardo shuddered, then grew still.

Donatello gently closed his brother's eyes and Michaelangelo wailed his grief to the world.

He turned to the window again and fought against the tears, desperate to listen, to be again.

.....

The old woman turned the page.

The boy touched the picture there. A woman with red hair and a man with shoulder-length black hair stood together beside the chair where Master Splinter sat. Leonardo and Raphael flanking their father, Donatello and Michaelangelo knelling beside the chair.

"Who're they Grandma?" he asked pointing to the people.

She smiled, remembering when she was that young.

"That, James, is me and your grandfather," she whispered.

"WOAH!" the boy gasped, "You were young once?"

April chuckled and kissed the boy's head.

"Yes," April said with a smile.

She turned the page again and touched the next photo sadly.

"Mikey," she murmured, a tears falling again, "he was never the same after Leo died."

"Why?" James asked.

"Leo saved him," April murmured.

James touched the photo of the orange-clad turtle.

"How'd he die?" James asked softly.

"Broken heart," she whispered softly, "he never smiled after Leo went…never laughed, until he met her."

"Who?" James asked curiously.

"Mae," April murmured.

......

He closed his eyes again and felt tears roll as he remembered:

"BUT I LOVE HER!" Michaelangelo cried.

"She's HUMAN!" Raphael cried, "Mikey you can't!"

"Raph I wan t to be with her! What if she likes me?" he begged, "Donnie?"

He turned to Donatello, searching for support.

"No Mike…Leo…wouldn't-" Don started.

The pain that crossed Michaelangelo's face made Donatello stop talking.

"Mikey…I-" he started, coming forward to touch his brother's arm.

"Leave me alone," Michaelangelo snapped, walking away, "Leo would want me to happy and you know that!"

"Mikey," Raphael cried, grabbing the younger turtle's arm.

Michaelangelo jerked away.

They found him outside the lair later that night. He'd been stabbed repeatedly. He made it three days and then just seemed to fade out. One day he was just gone, his body soon followed his spirit's death.

He wept, remembering the way his brother and slowly vanished. The girl had tried to go to the cops after that. He had stopped her, ended her, like she had ended his younger brother.

....

"Oh…" James said softly, "I don't get it though."

"You'll understand when you're older," April whispered before gently turning the page again. The lamp's light seeming to make a warm glow around them.

Though the light's warmth did nothing to ease the pain in the heart of the woman. As she turned another page James gently touched the photo of the purple clad turtle.

"He was a genius," April murmured, "he could fix anything…except himself."

.....

He closed his eyes once more and remembered:

"Don?" Raphael asked as he walked into his brother's lab.

Donatello was slumped over at his desk, hand clasping the mouse to his computer. Raphael shook his head.

"Fell asleep working again didn't you?" Raphael sighed, touching his brother's carapace gently. He grabbed a blanket and covered his brother.

"Rest easy bro," Raph murmured, stepping out of the room and flicking the lights off.

Later when he came back, Donatello was gone. He found out later Donatello had been fighting cancer for months, never told him.

April had found him grieving, screaming his agony to the world.

He shifted, the light showing the red bandana, the glitter of the silver Sais on his belt. He was very alone.

......

"What about him?" James asked, touching the last picture.

April closed her eyes and touched the same photo, remembering the red-clad turtle.

"He disappeared after Don died. I haven't seen him since," she replied gently.

The door opened.

"Mom?" a man asked as he came in.

"Hello Andrew," April greeted, smiling at her son.

"How's dad doing?" he asked, glancing toward the bedroom.

"He's resting," April replied.

"Thanks for watching him mom," Andrew whispered, as James rushed up with his coat half-on.

"It's no problem, he's a good boy," she sighed, "Goodnight dear."

The two left. Andrew leading James out. April looked back our the window with a sigh before getting up and slowly making her way toward where the photo album was stored.

.....

He watched her leave the room and shivered in the cold, with the rain's heavy weight. He started to leave but heard a voice call to him.

"I know ya' there Raphie," a man called, it wavered some in the wind.

Raphael stood, joints popping and muscles groaning.

"Casey?" he asked, his deep voice wavering, feeling very tired.

"Yeah," Casey replied, "Come in, get warm."

Raphael didn't respond, he watched the figure at the window, watched as April made him come back inside and waited.

Listened to the muted words.

He won't come in April…he's out there

Casey he's gone we both know that.

No he answered me…April he's out there…we have to make him come in…he'll get sick out in this rain.

Casey you need to lay down and rest.

I want to see him one more time April.

I know, so do I.

Morning broke and with it the rain.

Raphael stood in the living room of the apartment, he took the photo album and called Andrew.

Raphael lifted the phone.

Hello?

"There gone Andrew…in the night," Raphael sighed.

Raph?

Raphael sat the phone down and walked toward the window, pausing to look at the bedroom.

"Bye guys," he whispered.

Two days later he watched as the couple were buried. The last remnants of his family were gone. He was alone now.

Raphael turned to walk away.

"Raphael?" Andrew called, "I know you're here…dad…he said you'd come. Thank-you for looking after them."

Raphael walked away, feeling a few tears fall.

He walked home, the rain sliding off his jacket, mixing with his tears.

Alone. He was alone.

.....

Andrew walked into the old Lair and saw the dusty coverings. He slowly moved toward the bedrooms and found Raphael's.

Slowly he pushed the creaking door open.

"Who?" came a weak gasp.

"Me," Andrew replied, walking over and sitting next to the shivering turtle, "No one deserves to die alone."

"How did you know?" Raphael rasped.

"You never came the other night," Andrew replied, "when we moved things out…and the photo album was gone."

"Yeah," Raphael whispered, his gnarled hands wrapping around the photo album.

"Good night," Andrew whispered.

"Nigh'," Raphael mumbled, amber eyes fluttering closed, body relaxing.

Andrew bowed his head and then gently covered the figure.

.....

A car drove onto the property of the farmhouse and out past the barn. Shovel broke dirt next to four other graves, each marked with a colored pole.

Grey.

Blue.

Orange.

Purple.

And now…Red.

Andrew placed the photo album on Raphael's chest before he filled the grave and placed the marker in the ground in front of it.

"Not alone anymore Raph, Rest in Peace and tell the other hello," Andrew murmured.

He picked up the shovel and wipped his tears before leaving, pausing long enough to bow.

The. End.

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