*Hello, my friends. This wasn't a story I planned to write, or ever wanted to write. Nevertheless, it's the only thing I'm currently able to produce. This has been an odd year for me fanfiction wise, as I try to start writing my own original fiction. Rather than my usual monster fics, I've only written a couple of medium-sized pieces, and this story will not exceed 4-5 chapters.

I should warn you that it deals with the immediate aftermath of a canon character death. For that I apologize in advance. I understand if you don't want to read. But the death of my father earlier this month leaves me in a place where I need to vent, and also want to reach out to others. My situation is not unique. I know there are others who've been through or are going through the same thing. You are not alone.

I don't own the TMNT, Star Wars, or Hayden Christensen. There are a few OC's within, but I'm not going to take much time to expound on them, because I don't have the energy. There will be a couple more chapters to come after this one, but they won't be laid out on a daily format. Over the next two weeks, it will all come together.

Thanks for reading.

The cellphone buzzed in Leonardo's ear like an angry hornet, intent on stealing what small peace he could muster. The intrusion was doubly annoying because the blue-masked turtle had tried to turn off the alarm a few minutes prior, and must have accidentally hit the snooze button instead. He pressed the screen repeatedly, but it took several tries to shut down the irritating sound.

Leonardo cringed as he awaited a growl from his younger brother on the bunk below, but it never came. He bent over the side of his bed and realized Raphael was nowhere to be found. Panic seized his gut in an instant at the thought of the red-masked turtle not coming home, but a groggy memory corrected him. No, I remember Raph stayed in. No one wanted to be alone last night, and we went to bed around the same time.

Leo slumped down on his bed and stared at the screen of his cell phone. It was well after 6AM. On a normal day, he would have been up before his red-masked brother, enjoying some private time in the dojo while the Den was still quiet. Depending on what time Raphael chose to join him, a full work out might ensue, or it could wait until he'd had his first cup of tea, and taken one to his Sensei. His schedule was as certain as the sun rising in the East.

If it was a normal day.

Leonardo dropped his phone on the mattress and burrowed back under the covers. The morning could wait. He wasn't eager to face it, and hopefully his other brothers could satisfy themselves with some extra rest too. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he found himself staring at the ceiling instead, replaying the events from a little over 24 hours ago.

There's never a good reason for being woken up in the middle of the night, but it's usually something we can handle if we come together. This time had been different. There was no hurried call to action, nor mad dash to rescue one of his brothers. The battle in question was over, and there was nothing left to do except live with the outcome.

He rolled onto his side to face the wall. Willfully Leo closed his eyes and commanded thought to cease. It didn't stop images from taking shape in his mind's eye, and his breathing quickened with the emotions he was trying to suffocate. The turtle concentrated on taking deeper breaths and started counting down from 1000 backwards as a means of distraction. Leo was well into the 600's when he finally lost track of what number came next.

A hand engulfed the blue-masked turtle's shoulder, and Leo turned his head to find Raphael standing beside the bunk.

"C'mon, bro," Raph encouraged him. "You gotta get up. We're gonna eat and we need to talk."

He studied his brother's amber eyes without answering him, and picked out the same emotionless quality the red-masked turtle exuded the day before. Leo wasn't hungry, but there was no point in arguing with Raphael. Not today.

The younger turtle backed away while Leonardo untangled from his blankets and hopped to the floor. When he reached to retrieve his phone, he discovered it was after noon with a wince. "Who's here, Raph?"

"Everybody," he replied mechanically. "I know you don't feel like doing this, but we owe it to him…"

"I'm okay, Bro," Leo assured him, though the words felt less than accurate. "We have to get through a few decisions. I'm sorry I slept so late. I guess I was just…tired."

Raphael took another backward step toward the door. "Nobody minded lettin' you sleep, Leo. Shell, the others told me not to bother y' at all."

But you need me to be in on this conversation, Leo filled in silently. "I'm okay," he repeated stronger.

His brother cocked his head and his gaze took on a more piercing quality. "I doubt that, but we gotta stick together, right?"

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "Right."

Raphael turned for the door, and Leonardo followed him into the hall. Even from the second floor, the silence in the Den was overpowering. It was never this quiet when all of his brothers were awake, let alone once they'd been joined by the rest of their friends.

Leonardo's eyes fixed on the two figures sitting in the living area as he finished descending the stairs, and lingered the longest on the purple-masked turtle. Don was sitting so closely with his raven-haired girlfriend that they were nearly touching. His younger brother never stopped staring at the coffee table, but Jenna rose as the older turtles approached the couch.

"Hey, Leo." Her voice was so soft the turtle barely heard it.

"Hi, Jenna." Leonardo tried to force some warmth into his tone.

"I hope you slept okay."

He shrugged. "I slept too much."

Jenna shook her head. "I'm sure you needed it."

The young woman wrapped him in a brief hug, and the motion seemed to snap Donatello out of whatever daydream in which he was engaged. The younger turtle's concern reflected in his eyes and immediately made Leonardo uncomfortable. Raph is a lot better at hiding it.

"Are you all right, Leo?" Don asked.

"Yeah." The blue-masked turtle looked around the room for another point of focus so he wouldn't have to elaborate. "Where is everyone?"

"My mom and Mikey are working on lunch," Jen returned. "April and Kat are hanging out with them, and Luke and Marc have been on one of the computers in the Lab. Can I get you something to drink, Leo? You never had your morning tea…" The woman swallowed when the last word left her mouth. "I'm sorry."

Everyone wanted to help them, but there was so little they could say or do. Even those well acquainted with grief struggled to say the "right" thing. Leonardo didn't want Jenna to feel bad, so he offered a small smile. "No, it's okay. Water's fine for now."

Leo sat down in a chair as Jenna headed for the kitchen, ignoring the gaze he felt from Raphael's direction. I just have to get through the next couple of days without a complete breakdown. No one needs that – not from me. Raph's being paranoid as it is. Maybe it's better to get the ball rolling and inspire a little more confidence.

The blue-masked turtle glanced at Raphael, but then turned to Donny. "Any idea what the docs are doing in there?" He motioned to the Lab.

Don's brow furrowed. "They're doing some research…Gathering options for what to do next."

"What kind of options?" Leo wondered. "This probably isn't going to be very complicated. It's not like we'll need a processional."

Donatello's helpless expression made Leonardo physically ache inwardly. "I don't know. They're trying to help, Leo."

"I understand," he replied. "But they're not considering a more traditional burial, are they?"

Donatello broke eye contact again. "It's likely one of the things they're looking at."

Leo released a deep breath. "He wouldn't want us to go to the cost or the risk involved with a casket. We all know what we need to do. It's just a matter of when, and where."

The purple-masked turtle appeared to be holding his breath for a long pause. "Cremation feels like the safest route. It's also the one way we can be sure that he'll never be…disturbed."

"Raph?" Leonardo turned to his other brother for an opinion.

Raphael rubbed a hand over his eyes. "We all wanna do right by him, Leo. Maybe he's only an empty shell now, but I don't want anything to ever find him either."

Leo sank further down in the chair. Nine months of knowing the inevitable was approaching didn't make it easier to discuss his burial. Why didn't we talk about this before he died? We should have asked him what he wanted.

"We can nail down all the specifics later," Donny ventured.

"Did you get any sleep?" Leo arched an eye ridge toward the purple-masked turtle.

"What else did I have to do?"

"That's not an answer, Don."

"Here and there, Leo. I did the best I could."

"As long as you understand that coffee isn't a substitute for rest." Leonardo lightened his voice, attempting to lift some of the dreadful mood.

Donatello managed a smile. "There's been no danger of that, Leo; not with Doc practically living down here. He already threatened to keep the beans under lock and key." He made a scoffing sound. "As if that could deter me."

"A little lock versus the Genius?" Raphael snorted. "Doc's gone soft if he thinks that'll slow you down."

"Try to keep the raids to a couple of times a day rather than an hour," Leo advised. "Doc will be less likely to notice anything missing."

"Technically, I don't need any of the stock he's keeping an eye on," Don pointed out. "If I give Jen a ride and ask her nicely, she'll make sure I'm covered caffeine-wise."

Raph chuckled. "All of Doc's strictness undone by the chick ya got wrapped around your finger, Donny."

"It's pretty much the other way around, Raph," he corrected.

"Jenna would do anything for you, Genius. If I was in your shoes—"

"We don't wear shoes," Don interrupted maddeningly.

"I would let her take care of me, that's all." Raphael winked at him.

Donatello shook his head. "Feel free to search for your own girl to look after you, Raph."

"Are you gonna put yourself on the market, Raphy?" Mike suggested, joining their conversation from the doorway to the kitchen. "The newspaper is a good place to start."

Raphael rested his hands behind his head with a smirk. "Could be fun. Single good-looking mutant seeking a girl who won't give him lip and doesn't mind sacrificing the light of day. Must love burly ninjas."

The orange-masked turtle snickered. "Must be willing to deal with daily turtle tantrums."

Raphael glared at their youngest brother. "What would yours say, Shell-head? Must not be turned off by runts?"

Mike casually patted his plastron as he handed Leonardo a bottled water he'd brought from the kitchen. "It's not about the exterior, Raph. The chicks dig what's inside."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Chucklehead." Raphael swatted Michelangelo's shell as he plunked down on the end of the couch. "What's the hold up with lunch, anyway? People gotta be starving."

"It's almost ready." Mike glanced toward the blue-masked turtle rather than Raphael. "What are you guys up to, besides creating personal ads? Dibs on writing yours, by the way."

Leo gave his youngest brother a thin smile. "Not a chance, Mike."

"But seriously – what are you doing?" Mike pressed, and just like that, the atmosphere plummeted back to the seriousness of the moment.

"We're talking about the next step," Leo told him.

"You mean…" Mike shifted uncomfortably on his cushion. "What we're gonna do with him?"

The oldest turtle nodded. "The docs are coming up with several options, but we really only need one."

Michelangelo didn't blink. "What'd you decide?"

"We didn't decide – we discussed," Don said gently. "We're thinking cremation would be best."

Mike scooted to the edge of the couch. "You mean like the end of Return of the Jedi? That kind of deal?"

Donny nodded. "Sort of…but I'd better not see Hayden Christensen walk out of those flames."

The orange-masked turtle's chuckle made some of Leonardo's tension abate. It's like we're on a roller coaster. We're down, we're up, we're down…There's not going to be any consistency over the next few days. The occasional teasing and laugh might be the thing that keeps us sane. I'm sure not going to discourage it.

The smell of food wafted strongly from the kitchen, but the aroma only reinforced the pit in Leonardo's stomach. There was no appetite, but he would eat what he could to satisfy the efforts his friends made.

He's gone. He's really gone. Leonardo's inward revelation wasn't new, but it produced a deeper sense of sadness than he'd felt yet that day. I can't walk down the hall and visit with him. I can't hear his voice or ask for his advice. I can't sit at his feet and try to absorb his endless wisdom. Sensei is gone, and there's nothing I can do about it.