Work Text:
Serene was a word you could put to New York City. Somber, as a word was better, but did not apply to West 57th Street. Bittersweet made the blue clad turtle nostalgic in a way he didn't have the words to describe, then again he was never one for big words. That was his brother's forte.
He blocks out the looming feeling of loneliness and tries to pull from whatever ninpo he has left. He expects to feel nothing but instead a yellow warmth guides him to the now abandoned metro tower.
He shudders as he enters the now abandoned building the Krang have left. Dried blood caked onto the floor with pink bio-organic remains he isn't sure whether alive or dead.
He begins digging graves for his dead.
He tries not to look at all the bodies he carries over, he isn't even sure if he can find them all. He does his best to block out any straying thoughts and any prickling tears to keep himself on the task at hand. He has to stay focused, it's the least he can do for failing them all.
He starts off making a memorial for those burned to ashes, and those whose bodies cannot be found. It isn't much but he tries to add memoirs of every person who was lost. A stuffed bear, a glove trademarked genius built apparel, a dogtag with the name scratched out and the only markings left are a barely noticeable "T-9581" etched on.
After 3 days he gets to his orange clad brother and he can't bring himself to let go of him yet. There wasn't anything left of his brother to remember him by.
He feels the pricking shards in his eyes and he bites his lip because he's not done yet. He puts the red and purple handle of his sword down right next to the empty skulls of his father's two gargoyles and walks away.
The gathering of bodies will take weeks for him to do alone, and he knows everything will soon have the stench of death.
He knows this and does his best to save his strength. He cannot sleep and he will lose more time trying to sleep. So instead he eats the raw Krang flesh from the walls of the empty metro tower. The taste and texture is revolting, but if he is going to stay alive for the next week he needs this meal.
Sometimes, when he pauses to think. When his body gives out from exhaustion and all he can do it stare at the pink red sky he wonders why he's still here. If he can stay alive. If, once everyone has been put to rest properly, he can rest with them.
Sometimes he wonders how everyone is on other side.
Maybe when the work is done he can go visit them.
The bodies bring him the most terror.
He can barely look at some. Mangled and torn flesh haunt him every time he blinks, and every time he opens his eyes something worse is to be seen.
And the worst part is he knew them all and he sent them here.
He sent them here.
Two weeks after the final battle he finds April's body.
He breaks down at the sight of his sister, his strong, hardheaded, older sister lying on the ground. Her bat, broken.
He can barely move.
Time moves by yet he stays still.
By the time he can stand up the sun is low and he knows he has to move her-the body before it gets too dark and the lookout dogs come out.
He tries not to look as he carries he-the body.
Upon touching it however he realises it's warm.
A spark of hope fills him and he rushes her to the small base he's made in metro tower.
He wonders if others have survived.
He rumages around for whatever left over supplies from their old base still exist and begins treating her wounds. He keeps checking her pulse.
He can't lose another sibling.
He tries pulling from whatever medical knowledge he can remember and when he realizes she is not in a coma he can feel the relief crash over him like a wave.
He knows he needs to finish burying the bodies, but he can't find it in himself to leave his sister.
He won't risk losing another sibling.
He picks his sword back up.
After another agonizing two weeks he wakes up not from a nightmare, but from the sound of coughing and he almost cries from that sound alone.
He rushes to her side immediately. He cant find words to say, the silence however was almost deafening. So he tries to crack a joke like old times and opens his mouth. But it's dry and nothing comes out except a weak "Hey."
She responds with a smile, then confusion, then realization, then calm.
She smiles hopefully and it hurts because she asks "So did we win?" And that's when the dam breaks because he doesn't know what to say.
What could he say?