Warning! This story contains some violence, cursing, and adult situations which may be inappropriate for some readers. This story is voluntarily rated PG-13 for parental guidance. Kids, do yourself a favor and ask mom or dad before you read Forever, Always Young.
"Hey! Dinner!" called Michelangelo. He hummed as he pulled a large pan of lasagna out of the oven. It felt sort of weird being back together in the old den after so many years. Leonardo and Splinter were the only ones who really lived there any more. Mike had his own apartment, Don had been living in the farmhouse, and Raph....noone was quite sure where he'd been stashing himself, and he wouldn't tell. Two opposing theories had sprung up: one was that Raph had his own sewer den in a secret location. The other was that he had moved in with Donny's weird gangster friend, Mark. Mike had always thought the former more likely; Raph was a loner after all. But Donny seemed to think that he had fallen in with GR, the group of former gang members who acted as vigilante law-enforcers. Don still did some computer stuff for them once in a while, but Raph was pretty into their head-bashing philosophy. Especially now that Casey was getting older and didn't want to kick butt as much as he used to.
Mike set the pan on a potholder on the table as his brothers began to drift in. Caset and April had wanted to come, but had already arranged to spend the weekend in California with some uncle of April's. So it was just the four Turtles and Splinter who gathered around the table, laughing and joking.
Splinter was pleased to see his sons happy. He had been disturbed when they had met the X-men and Donatello and Raphael had become so close to them and their families; it was unsettling to know that so many humans were privy to their secret. But even cautious Leonardo had pointed out, "They're vigilante mutants. Their secret is just as big as ours." Splinter had instinctively believed that trouble would come of it, but this was one of the few times he was happy to be proven wrong. He smiled as he looked around at his little family; even Raph had dropped his moody attitude and was smiling and chatting.
Splinter's mind was, for a moment, oddly darkened by thoughts of death. He tried to shut them out, but they always returned to plague him. He knew that his "sons" would live a long time, but in their visit to the future, he discovered that one hundred years in the future, he would be dead. Not that he wished to live so long. He had already lived a very long while, much longer than either human or rodent would have expected to live. And now, how long could he expect to live? He was wise and never showed a fear of death, but when a simple rat had gained human reason and capabilities, he had also gained human flaws. One of these was the persistant fear of death. Unreasonable, for death was nothing to fear, but despite his attempts to put it aside, it remained always with him. Fear was the price he paid for intelligence. But now was not the time for such gloomy thoughts. Splinter smiled and sipped his tea, banishing thoughts of mortality.
*-----*-----*
Gambit came awake with a jerk. He was lying crumpled against the living room's far wall, where the final blast had thrown him. He tried to get up and almost managed before he had to sink to the ground with his head between his knees. His head pounded and when he touched his temple, his hand came away bloody. Finally, he rose on wobbly legs and stood still, his head spinning. Suddenly, he remembered what had happened. His wife. His child. His team. What had happened to them?
He staggered throught the room, tripping over rubble and broken furniture. He saw a flash of red hair. Rogue! He hurried to her side as best he could. Her broken body was half buried in rubble. Gambit sobbed as he sought her pulse. No breath. No pulse. No life. "Oh, no," he moaned. Tears ran down his cheeks as he closed her eyelids. He gazed about. How could he hope to find all his friends beneath the rubble? With a start, he remembered his infant son, not yet a year old, lying in his crib in the other win of the house. Remy somehow dragged himself what seemed like miles through the mansion. To his profound relief and joy, the boy was still in his crib; crying, hungry, but alive. Thank God the living room was in the opposite wing. Other wise, the child would be dead. It was a small blessing, but now the child was all Remy had left.
Gambit was filled with fear as he never had been before. Would they come back? Did they know he was still alive? What if they went after the team's families? His son was in danger! Gambit wrapped him tightly in a heavy blanket and held him against his chest. He fled the house and its grisly wreckage.
*-----*-----*
Don grinned at Mike and took another bite of lasagna. "How is it?" Mike asked anxiously.
"As if you need to ask!" teased Raph.
"It's great, Mike," Don assured his friend. Mike's lasagna was practically world famous. Mike was a great cook, and he couldn't pick up a recipe without making it better. Don reached for a slice of the italian bread Mike had learned to make from an immigrant in Little Italy.
"Pass the cheese," said Raph. Leo sent along the grated cheese with a smirk.
"Like you need more cheese," he said.
"Yeah, Raph," Mike chimed in. "You've been trying to eat that piece of cheese for ten minutes!" They all laughed at Raphael, who was trying to wind a long string of cheese around his fork. Raph stuck his tongue out at them.
"My sons are growing up, indeed," commented Master Splinter, straight-faced. They stared at him in amazement for a moment before Mike began to giggle helplessly and they all collapsed with laughter.
"You're a natural, Master," said Mike. Splinter raised one thick eyebrow and took another bite of lasagna. Mike was happy. They didn't have occassion to sit around together and joke very often any more. Not for years.....Mike was saddened that they seemed to be growing apart. He was glad Don had decided to come and live in the city again. He missed his brother when he was so far away, in Massachussets. And it seemed that when they all got together, it was always serious....someone hurt or a mission to be done, a battle to be fought for the sake of the universe....Though it had been quieter lately, with Shredder off in the future and most of their other enemies out of sight.
But that left them with even LESS time to be together. Don drifted off to the farm to build things and study DNA, Mike spent long hours in his apartment, sketching or painting, Leo retreated into katas and devotional meditation, and Raph disappeared for days, even weeks, at a time, out on his own missions. Mike missed having everyone together all the time, even with the friction it caused. It was worth it, to be a family.
Raph was truly happy. It always cheered him to visit his friends, and especially their children. He had a soft spot for kids that he rarely bothered to hide any more. He loved to spend long hours holding the Davis boys, or Xavier's son, or Ororo's little girl. He had a lot of love that needed expression, and until he met the X-men, he could only share it with his brothers. But now, with more than a few kids around, he found it hard not to be caught up in things around the mansion. Scott was like a brother to him and Don, Jean like a sister. The children in the mansion had always called Raph "uncle" and loved him as well as they loved their own fathers. The only X-man Raph had difficulty getting along with was Wolverine. His brothers said it was because they were both so ill-tempered. But in any case, there was something about the man that just got under his skin.
*-----*-----*
Wolverine found himself lying beneath a blasted piece of the roof. With one powerful upward thrust, he shoved away the charred and battered bit of metal with a grunt. He stood and felt slightly dizzy. Examining his body he noticed only minor wounds. They would heal; his healing factor would take care of them. He took a deep breath and almost passed out from the pain. Probing with his fingers, he checked his chest. Probably a couple busted ribs. Have to tape 'em up.
He took stock of the situation. The room was a mess. Where were the X-men? He sniffed the air. Overturning a stone in the spot his nose led him to, he found the barely recognizable corpse of Jubilee. Her head was crushed beyond recognization, her entire body crushed and bloody. It was a grisly spectacle, and Wolverine turned his head away, unable to look. His heart filled with rage. Whoever had done this to her would pay, he swore. He sniffed again. This time, the body was Jean's, lying beside Scott's in the wreckage, both corpses mangled. That was it. Wolverine turned to leave; he couldn't bear to let this go on. As he passed through the half-collapsed doorway, he paused to ease the pain in his ribs.
Gambit! The scent was fresh, and it was a trail. It led up toward the stairs and out the main door. So, the Cajun was alive. Why had he rushed off in such a hurry? Where was he going? Any other time, Wolverine would have followed Gambit's trail to the end, but his mind was filled with thoughts of vengeance. He was gone from the room. God help whoever crossed his path that night.
*-----*-----*
"Man, I'm tired," groaned Don. "Must've been the drive from Massachussets." He yawned. "I'm going. Coming, Mike?" Mike looked up from his drink.
"Nah," said Mike. "In fact, I think I'll stay the night. If it's okay with you." This he directed towards Splinter and Leo.
"Of course," said Splinter.
"You know you don't have to ask, bro. What about you, Raph?"
Raph shrugged. "Dunno, maybe. Maybe I'll just go home." All of them were dying to ask where "home" was, but no one quite dared. Raph wouldn't even reveal the location to Splinter. Why? Was there really that great a need for secrecy among friends? Don stood.
"Keys?" he reminded.
"Oh, yeah," said Mike, taking them out of his belt. "Here. Just don't eat all my food, okay?" Don had only recently decided to move back into New York, and he was staying with Mike until he could find a permanant place to stay. Like Raph, he wasn't keen to move back into the den. Didn't know why. Maybe just because it wouldn't be the same. Too many years had gone by for them to go back to the way it was when they were young. They all secretly regretted it. Even Raphael could wish for those times again.
*-----*-----*
The next morning, after Don had showered, he walked into Mike's living room, moving some junk with his foot as he did. Geez, Mike was a slob! Don was a scientist, and he despised unordered chaos. Maybe he'd do Mike a favor and clean up the mess....But why bother? Mike would just mess the room up again minutes later!
There was a knock at the door. Don instinctively froze. He moved soundlessly to the peephole and checked out the guest, then relaxed. It was only Emily. He quickly opened the door and let her in. He smiled. "Hey, Em, what's up?" Then he stared at her. He saw for the first time that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Her face was red, her hair and clothing dishevelled. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, reaching out to give her a gentle hug. She shook silently as she wept uncontrollably, occassionally making small sniffling noises. Don pulled away momentarily, unearthed a box of tissues, and handed it over.
"Thanks," she whispered. She sat down on the couch and blew her nose. Don sat beside her.
"Now, what's wrong," he said, stroking her back.
"Oh, my god," Emily sobbed. "They're dead." A cold chill ran down Don's spine. His heart froze.
"What?"
She told him slowly and carefully, through her tears, stammering and sobbing. "Mom and Dad.....The X-men.....They're all.....d-d-dead. Dead!"