Nirvana

The Right Action...
"No...God, nooooo!"

As Michaelangelo cradled Raphael, the thick red blood pooled from the wound and stained his hands and arms, but he didn't care. He was completely oblivious to everything but his fallen brother. Donatello struggled to keep his mind clear. He knew that it was up to him now to hold the fabric of the family together. In a matter of minutes, the stitching had been worn so thin, it seemed as though all that was left were frayed, unraveling strings. Everything was falling apart so rapidly, he wasn't even sure if he could mend the strands back together again.

Michaelangelo was sobbing as he rocked the limp body in his arms. He was too wrought with pain to even think about comforting anyone else. Leonardo was deep in shock. It appeared all he could do at present, was stare at Raphael's corpse. It was a chilling sight. The body was limp and lifeless, head drooping, arms sagging from the shoulders Michaelangelo gripped so tightly in his blood encrusted fingers. The scene sickened him. Blood...death...needless annihilation. And at the hands of his own brother. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to run away. He wanted to scream. But he didn't move. He just knelt there on the cold hard concrete, staring in morbid fascination.

The nausea took a dangerous leap as he moved toward them to more closely examine the wound on Raphael's plastron. It was deeper than he'd imagined, dark red blood bubbling over and dripping to the floor. He'd lost so much blood already. Even if the slim chance existed that he was still alive, it was only a matter of time now. The rich smell of the blood rose, causing Donatello to gag. He turned his head, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Leo was just standing there, the same as always, an expression like stone freezing his shocked features. His eyes were glazed over with a mixture of surprise and fear, his entire body trembling fiercely. His voice was barely audible, but Don could hear it now--a never ending chant of "oh my god...oh my god..."

Don winced. There was blood on Leonardo's hands. Raph's blood. The katana lay at his feet, reflecting the illumination from an overhead light. It too was covered in crimson.

**God...dear god, how could this have happened?**

He knew how. Still, he had to ask. "Leonardo?"

"Oh my god...oh my god...I...oh god..." Leo's voice was almost a whisper.

"Leo..." Don swallowed, his voice trembling. "What...why?"

Leonardo couldn't answer. His brain and mouth where struggling against it. The words refused to form. In a small corner in the back of his mind, he knew what he had done, but the rest of him was desperately trying to forget.

Don rose to his feet, anger and sorrow overwhelming him. "Leo!" He gripped the turtle's arms tightly. "Leo, dammit! Answer me!"

He shook Leonardo with such force, he thought he would fall over. Still, his brother said nothing. He appeared to be in a trance, and refused to free his sight from Raphael.

"Leonardo...snap out of it! Come on...damn you...answer me!"

More shaking...but his brother was comatose in his grip.

"Dammit..."

He slapped him in the face. Hard. Leonardo blinked. He slowly turned his head, and drew his eyes away from Raph to face Donatello. He blinked again, his eyes glazing over with tears.

"Leonardo..." Don said more softly, feeling guilty for his attack. "Leo, what happened? Why did you do this?"

Leo lowered his head, his entire body shaking with horrific sobs. It was agony to listen to, but Don knew he had to make Leonardo face this. He had to find out some answers. He was in fact, glad for the outburst. It reminded him that Leonardo wasn't a heartless monster. He hadn't meant to hurt Raphael...or had he?

"Leo?"

"Don...I--oh god..." The sobs rose until they were almost deafening. Donatello's heart was pounding. He hated this. He hated it more than any horrible thing he'd ever experienced in his entire life, maybe even more so than he hated Oroku Saki. Still, he couldn't turn away. This was reality and he had to face it. He had to gather the facts. He had to try to pull things together.

Donatello was shaking as Leo's words bit into him, deeper than he could have imagined. "Don...I...I...killed him!"

The verbal confirmation seemed too much for Leonardo to handle. He collapsed. Don barely caught him in time and lowered him gently to a sitting position on the floor. Leonardo was hyperventilating. Sorrow filled Don as he watched him. He could tell that the internal struggle was already brewing.

"Leo, I...put your head between your knees. There, that's it--"

"Donatello..."

He turned around quickly to face what was perhaps his worst fear. "Master Splinter..." How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen?

The rat held his hand outstretched, bidding Donatello to take it. Trembling, he did so, and as he latched on, he thought he could feel the rat's brittle body shaking too. **This is too much for him to handle...he's too weak to deal with this right now...**

But Splinter proved stronger than Don imagined. He took immediate command of the situation, never faltering for a moment. They knelt down beside Raphael. Michaelangelo still held him, but his sobs had quieted down to desperate sniffles.

"Michaelangelo..."

There was no answer, only the sound of choked breathing.

"Michaelangelo..."

Mike rose his eyes to meet those of his sensei. "Yes, Master Splinter?"

"I know that this is difficult, but remember that your first duty is to your brother. We must stop the bleeding."

"B...but Splinter...there's...there's no pulse..."

Don felt his heart leap into his throat as his worst fears were confirmed. **No pulse? Dear God...**

"We must do all we can, my sons. Please, Michaelangelo, find a cloth to--"

"Got it master." He said quietly. He gently laid Raph onto his back and rose to his feet. He stood there for a moment, as if he was afraid to let go, as if he was worried that if he looked away and left him behind, he'd never see him again. Finally, he closed his eyes, turned his head, and hurried away.

Splinter laid his ear against Raphael's chest and closed his eyes. Donatello held his breath. He was trembling with adrenaline. He knew that things looked very grim, but there was something inside of him that kept him going, some tiny glimmer of hope...

Mike returned with a clean towel, some water, medical thread and a needle. He waited as patiently as he could while Splinter listened for even the tiniest hint of life. Moments passed, but it seemed like an eternity.

"Master Splinter?" Mike urged gently.

The rat's shoulders shook and a sob escaped him. Donatello laid his hands on his master's shoulders, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched Michaelangelo fall to his knees on the other side of their brother. Finally, Splinter lifted his head, only to bury it in his hands. Don wrapped his arms around him, bringing him close. Splinter laid his head on his shoulder. He could contain his anguish no longer.

"Raphael...my son..." he cried.

Tears pooled at Donatello's feet. His arms were crossed around his body in a hug, as he tried to comfort himself from the painful memory.

"It's not fair..." he cried. "It's just not fair..."

A chute opened up above his head, and out dropped a box of tissues. They landed neatly on the table beside him. He stumbled over to a chair and slumped down, reaching for one.

"Thanks, Chet...," he mumbled, wiping his eyes.

^^MY PLEASURE, DONATELLO...^^

He remained silent for several minutes, his head lowered, eyes bloodshot and swollen from all of his crying. He stared at the table, studying the grain of the wood, and trying to clear his mind of all that he'd experienced so many years ago. These were the things that held him in such anguish, the thoughts and feelings he'd beat down time and time again, lest they consume him. Only now, he could bear to conceal them no longer. He had to face the truth, no matter how gruesome, no matter how agonizing.

Once more, his unruly mind began to wander, and before long, he found himself again in that place. His brothers and sensei were near. It was much darker and colder than he remembered, still it was home, and it was just as it had been that haunting night in late October.

"Leonardo..." He heard Splinter's voice before he saw him. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust. The rat's fur glowed orange in the candlelight. He sat in the lotus position, as did the others, the calm mask of his face betraying the sorrow that continued to bubble and grow inside.

Leonardo's head was down, his face filled with shame and disgrace, his gaze on his lap. The others watched him with mixed feelings, each anticipating what he might say, yet not sure they wanted to hear it. He could feel their stares burning into him like the embers from the tiny wicks that surrounded them. After a couple of long moments, he began to speak, not daring to raise his eyes to look at them.

"Master Splinter..." he said softly. "I know that I have caused you much disgrace..."

"Disgrace, my son, doesn't even begin to express the pain and anguish you have bestowed upon myself and your brothers."

"Yes, sensei." Leo was fighting for control over his emotions. Don knew that he was unstable after all that had happened. At any moment, he could crumble and fall apart at their feet. And knowing that he'd let Splinter down was the worst torment Leo could imagine.

"You will look at me when I am talking to you, Leonardo."

It was a struggle. Leo could not dishonor his sensei again, but it was unbearable to look into the face of the one that he'd caused such pain, the one he loved as a father and spiritual leader. He felt as though he was the most foul creature to ever have walked the earth. Still, he mustered his courage and rose his head to look at him, determined to face his fear, no matter what happened. When his eyes met Splinter's however, his heart almost tore in two. That face was so filled with pain and disappointment, it was almost unbearable.

"Master, I...there is no excuse for what I've done. I have dishonored my entire clan--you, my honorable father, my brothers." He glanced at Don and Mike. "I am a shame and a disgrace. But please take one thing to heart--I never meant to hurt Raphael. It was an accident."

"Have I not instructed you in the ways and code of the ninja? Have I not bestowed upon you the proper morals and ethics? Have I not taught you never to strike in anger?" His voice lowered then so it was almost inaudible. "Does your family not mean anything to you, my son?"

The words struck a chord in Leo, and the tears began to fall like rain. Donatello was fearful that he might go into shock again, but he kept his voice level and his eyes focused.

"God, Splinter...you--Don, Mike...you all mean more to me than you could ever know. All our lives, we've been all we've ever had. All we ever will have. Even Raphael..." He sucked in a breath, trying to maintain control. "We had our differences but--I loved him, sensei. God, I loved him."

The others sat as quiet observers, watching as Leonardo sobbed into his hands. Donatello could feel his own heart breaking into tiny pieces. The world was spinning around him at such speed, that things were happening quicker than he could comprehend or react to them. All he knew was the great pain of loss that filled him entirely and blocked out all hope of coherent thought.

Leonardo was a mess. He was desperately trying to get a grip on his emotions, but he was failing miserably. He seemed more vulnerable than Donatello had ever seen him, and it made him uneasy. He glanced at Mike. The tears had stopped, but he was shaking violently, and refused to look at anything but the concrete wall ahead of him.

"Mike?" Donatello rose to his knees and moved toward his brother. "Come on. Maybe we should..."

"No, Donatello." Splinter's voice was stern. "This is a family matter, thus we will discuss it as a family."

"Yes, Master Splinter." Don said nervously and sat back down.

"In fact, I would like to hear your thoughts on the situation, Donatello."

He stared at his sensei in surprise. "Me? But, I..."

Splinter looked at him in quiet expectation, patiently waiting for him to answer.

Don shook as he began to speak. The strange gruffness in his voice was foreign to him. "I...I think that what happened here was really bad...uhhh...I mean, obviously, it was awful. We have lost a brother and ally, and he will be greatly missed." He paused to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "But Leo seems truly sorry for what he did, and while that won't bring Raph back, I think...I think it counts for something."

He had been terrified ever since they'd found Raph that Splinter would demand Leo commit seppuku. That was the code of the ninja after all. He could only hope that his tiny meaningless plea could make a difference.

Splinter considered Donatello's words for a moment, then turned to Mike.

"Michaelangelo...please enlighten us with your thoughts."

For the first time, Mike pried his sight from the wall, and turned to gaze at his master. "I think..." he swallowed. "I think that I want Raphael back. It's not fair...it's so unfair, Master Splinter! Why us? Why, after having to live as we do all of our lives...why do we have to lose a brother? Why...?" As Mike's voice trailed off Don inched closer to him and did his best to comfort him.

Leo lowered his head again. "I've caused you all...myself included, great pain. What I have done is inexcusable, but I can't..." He breathed. "I can't bring him back. I can't make it go away. I never meant...I'd do anything to bring him back. Anything. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but please, if there is one thing that gives you comfort and condolence in the months to come, let it be that."

Donatello was trembling. His hands shook as he rubbed his arms, trying to rid himself of the shivers that flowed through him. He glanced out the window. The sun was shining brightly. It was warm outside. So why then did he feel so cold?

Another memory occurred to him then.

It took both of Michaelangelo's hands to completely cover the wound. The towel below them was soaked and dripping, but he continued to press down, applying as much pressure to the wound as was safe.

Splinter was on the other side of them, his mouth over Raph's, attempting CPR. With the gaping chest wound, the method proved difficult, but they were determined. They couldn't let him die, they just couldn't.

Donatello found himself cursing their existence just as Raph had always done. If they'd been normal--human, they could have taken him to a hospital. Maybe then, they would have even the slightest chance of saving his life. It seemed ironic to him that he could be so much like his angry, emotional brother when provoked. Perhaps they weren't that different after all. He glanced at Mike. His entire face was a mask of emotion, but the sorrow that had filled it completely only moments ago was now replaced with determination.

Swallowing, Donatello did his best to avoid thinking too much about Raphael's condition, and pressed a finger to his wrist, concentrating on his search for a pulse. Still nothing. **Dammit...come on, come on...**

Splinter finished pumping Raphael's chest, and lowered his face again to grant him more of his life-giving breath. Donatello and Michaelangelo could tell it was taking a lot out of the old rat, but neither dared to stop him. Splinter was determined to do all he could to revive Raphael.

"Can you hold this?" Mike indicated to the soiled towel covering Raphael's plastron. Don squirmed and looked uneasy. He'd always been a little squeamish around blood, even his own. "Please? I have to go get a clean one."

Don scooted closer and glanced hesitatingly at the blood. He'd seen his brothers injured hundreds of times, but this felt different somehow. This blood was tainted with a sibling rivalry that stemmed much deeper than jealousy or dominance. It was filled with hate--for things that could not be changed, for what they were and would never be, and perhaps even with the fear that maybe in each other, they saw an image of themselves that they didn't want to face. Senseless violence had caused its flow, and at the hands of one of his own brothers. It made him feel sick to think about it, and it filled him with an anguish so deep, he could hardly stand it.

"It's okay, Don." Mike tried to be comforting. "I'll be right back."

He watched Mike go, then pressed his hands into the wet towel. He could feel the blood pool over his fingers, thick and warm. He wondered how much longer a corpse could bleed, how long it would be until the blood turned cold.

Splinter was pumping Raphael's chest again, with such urgency, the sight of it made Donatello nervous. The entire premise of what was going on around him began to sink in. **My brother is dead. He's not going to wake up. We've lost him. Raphael is gone, and Splinter is trying to revive a corpse.**

Don sighed, his voice catching in his throat. "He didn't die that day...not physically. After several attempts, Splinter was finally able to produce a pulse. There was a lot to thank my sensei for. He gave Raph another chance--gave us all an opportunity to fix things. Only problem was, he didn't wake up. He was in a coma, and even after several blood transfusions that left us dizzy and weak, his heartbeat was slow, and his pulse weak, which indicated that it was only a matter of time.

"As we sat in the dojo that night, discussing Leo's fate, we considered our brother dead. He couldn't speak, refused to open his eyes, and couldn't even move. I felt as though we had done him an injustice, prolonging the physical when the spiritual was inevitable. I wondered if he was in pain, if he could hear us talking to him. When I looked at the dark, sticky blood that still covered my hands, I felt as though I were the murderer. What right did I have to play God just because I couldn't bear the thought of losing him?"

Leonardo snuck out of the lair very early the next morning. He was gone when we woke up. An extra blanket had been draped over Raphael, and upon further inspection, I found it to be the one from Leo's bed. He hadn't told any of us that he planned to leave. Our only indication as to where he had gone was from the brief note he left behind, which told us that he was taking a sabbatical. He would be hiking to the mountains where he could meditate and clear his head. He explained that this time apart would give us all a chance to heal, and to come to grips with what had happened. We spent our days in constant worry. What were his real intentions? Would he ever come back? Was he even still alive? Deep down, I believe we all knew. Yet, we never really spoke of it, and indeed, we never obtained a lucid answer." More tears trickled down Donatello's cheeks. "My brother never returned. It still haunts me to this day."

^^ACCESSING FILE 5547...OCTOBER 23, 2001...

"Chet?"

^^WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO--^^

"I...what is it, Chet?"

^^FILE 5547...JOURNAL OF MICHAELANGELO, OCTOB--

Don let out the breath he'd been holding. "Play it."

In a matter of moments, he found himself in the lair yet again. It was very dark, and he estimated by the light patterns from the grating overhead that it couldn't have been later than three in the morning. Michaelangelo and Leo were the only ones around, and they were completely oblivious to their silent, invisible observer. Donatello knew that something was about to take place that he had never been aware of.

It was obvious that Leonardo had been trying to sneak away, in hopes that no one would miss him until morning. He was clad in pads and bandanna, and gripped one katana tightly in his hand. He had a very small bag slung over his shoulder. The usual holster he wore strapped to his back was nowhere to be found. This seemed odd to Donatello. Leo never left the lair without it.

"Leo?"

"Mike! What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep. Where are you going?"

Leo lowered his head and said nothing.

"Leo?"

"Look Mike, I can't tell you, okay? There's just...something I have to do."

Mike stared at him, puzzled for a moment, but the realization slowly dawned on him. "Oh god, Leo, you're not gonna--"

"Mike..." Leo shot him a warning look, and tried to occupy himself with the bag. "I have to go. Please, don't try to stop me..."

"No..." Mike breathed. "Please, Leo...don't..."

Leo turned to face him. He could see the lines of worry and sorrow that covered his 'little brother's' face. He couldn't bear to see Mike in so much pain. Leo laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "Look at me, Mike. Look at this katana." He held it up so Mike could see the splatters of dry blood which still covered it almost entirely. "This is the sword I used to...to... Do I look like a leader to you? Do I appear honorable to you? I once prided myself on my ability to maintain self-control. I mocked Raphael for losing his temper so easily. But it was me who made the strike. I was the one who lost it. I failed, Mike. I've lost everything--my self respect, my honor, my brother, maybe even my will to live..."

"Leo, please don't talk like that..." Tears were flowing for the fourth time that day.

"Mike, I..." His own emotions got the best of him now. "I can't do it anymore. I'm not fit to be a leader. I'm a failure--more so that I could ever accuse Raph, or any of you of becoming. I've failed you all--you, Don, Master Splinter...god, I...I failed Raphael most of all. I thought if I just tried hard enough, I could somehow save him from himself, but in fact, the one I should have worried about was myself. Mike, what I did is unforgivable. I can't live with the guilt...with the dishonor I have caused. And above all else, I know that I must avenge his death. I must restore honor to our clan."

"But Leo, there has to be something else...you can't just--"

"There's no other way, Mike. You know that."

"Then let me go instead."

"Wha--Mike?"

"I mean it. Let me do it. I'll sacrifice my life for yours and Raph's."

"Mike, that's ludicrous."

"Leo, I already lost one brother. I couldn't bear to lose another. I'd rather die than go through that again."

"Mike, I..." He looked into his brother's eyes. They seemed to share the same tears. "I must avenge Raphael. It was my blade that pierced him, and so it shall be my blade that restores his honor."

Mike grabbed Leo by the shoulders. "I'm begging you, Leo! Please! Please don't do this! Please!"

"Mike," Leo admitted. "I'm scared. I'm close to terrified. I don't know what's really going to happen after I die. And what if my gift isn't acceptable? What if I fail to restore his honor? What if I find Raph, and he turns me away?"

"But Raph wouldn't--"

"I always knew deep down, that somehow, in some way, I would die giving my life for one of my brothers. I consider it an honor. I only hope that it will somehow mend the damage I've done."

"No...you can live, Leo! You can rectify it in some other way. We'll help you..."

Leo shook his head. "It wouldn't be the same, Mike."

"But Leo..."

"One of the paths to enlightenment, according to Buddhist teaching, is the Noble Eight-fold Path. Splinter taught us of such things frequently in our youth. It speaks of possessing the right actions--you remember it, don't you Mike? Refrain from stealing, unchastity...killing." Leo lowered his head.

"I do remember. I remember it well. But Raph's not really--"

"He's dead, Mike. Let's face it. His body may be intact for a few more days, but his heart struggles to pump what blood he's got left. Soon, it will all be over. His shed blood is on my hands, Mike. Think about that. Wouldn't you do whatever it took to fix it?"

Mike lowered his head and began to cry softly. The thought of losing two brothers over something so foolish seemed ridiculous, but he knew Leo was right. If only the two of them could have gotten along...if only they both could have controlled their tempers.

"Mike..." Leo said softly. "The Bible...Exodus 20, verse...5 I believe, says 'thou shalt not kill.'"

"But...we're not Christian, Leo." Mike sniffled.

"No...but that doesn't really matter does it? We both know it's wrong."

Mike couldn't look at him.

"Listen to me, Mike. I am the one who has committed the crime. Now I am the one who must pay the penalty." He swallowed and forced himself to confront the words he feared most. "I murdered my brother, without cause or reason. And for that, you should hate me, Michaelangelo."

"I do...I do feel hatred, Leo. I hate what you did, and I'm angry. Angry at you, angry at the whole fucking situation. But I don't hate you, Leo. I could never hate my brother..."

"Mike..." The tears were blurring his vision, making it hard to focus on him. "You know I must do this. It's the only way to restore Raphael's honor...yours, Don's, Master Splinter's...my own."

Mike sobbed heavily. He felt as though the entire world was crashing down on top of him.

"Mike, please. Don't cry. Things will be okay. You'll carry on without me. Life will go on in time, you'll see."

"What...what do I tell the others?"

Leonardo thought about this for a moment. "Tell them nothing."

"But Leo!"

"Please, Mike. It's my only request. Don't tell them. At least not until I'm far away from here. If they don't figure it out on their own eventually, you can tell them when the time is right. But for now, it's better that they don't know. It'll ease the pain..."

Leo took a step away, but Mike wasn't ready yet to let him go. He wrapped his arms around Leonardo, holding him in a death grip. "Don't go, Leo! Please!"

"Goodbye Mike..."

"Please!" Mike sobbed. "Please..."

"Freeze program!" Donatello screamed.

Don wiped the sweat from his forehead, his chest heaving. It felt like a weight had been placed on his shoulders, and was gradually growing heavier and heavier. It was hard to breathe, he was crying so hard. He lowered himself to the floor and set his head between his knees, as he'd instructed Leo to do so many years ago.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, which was difficult since he kept replaying those final scenes in his mind, over and over again. He let out the breath, took in a new one, held it. He repeated those steps over and over until he felt some of the tension in his body begin to ease.

He thought about Mike, about all he must have gone through in the grueling months that followed. He had been carrying a bigger burden than any of them had imagined. He realized now how strong his brother had really been. Donatello couldn't be mad at him for granting Leo's dying wish. He knew he would have done the same. No wonder poor Mike had appeared so apathetic. It was another attempt to cover up his innermost feelings and protect the ones he loved. Mike went to his grave carrying that secret.

"Leo was wrong." He rose to his feet slowly, still shaky from the emotions that flowed through him. "Thou shalt not kill is verse six...right after verse five--honor your father and mother."