Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or associated characters. They remain in part the property of Mirage Studios and Nickelodeon (Viacom). I make no financial gain from this fiction.

Leonardo centric: I like to do horrible things to Leonardo because, well I'm mean like that. Reviews help me to develop and keep my writing. Enjoy.

Emptiness

Emptiness, broken only by the haunting echoes of the past.

Walking a familiar route, one my footsteps have taken me more than a thousand times. Yet, it is as if I pace these empty passages for the first time. Once so full of colour, of love and laugher, of family, now stretch endlessly before me. Quiet, cold and colourless.

Dead.

I pause to lightly caress the metal door latch, hovering before slowly drawing it back and entering. Belongings still lay where they were left on that day, untouched. I continue onwards, carefully tracing my fingers across the crude desk leaving fresh vacant trails in thick grey dust. I smile despite myself, remembering the time we found the wood used to construct it and our early laughable attempts at salvaging it. My hand stops to linger over the pages of an open notebook, silently waiting for the next line or verse. Quietly taunting.

Gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself, I close my eyes and try to remember. To picture his face, hear his voice or see his smile one last time. Stuttered images flicker vibrantly though my mind. But I can only catch fleeting glimpses, hear thin trickles before the more painful memories start to bleed through and burn into the picture.

"RAAAAGH!"

I send the desk and its contains crashing to the ground. The remorseless echoes of my anguish drag me, reeling back into the room. As quickly as it had appeared the red mist dissipates clearing my vision, only to be replaced by an oppressive wave of guilt. No, of failure! It's cold intensity swamps my senses, consumes my very soul and carries me to dark recesses that I have fought to keep closed, hidden from myself.

My breath shudders as I fall suddenly to my knees, desperately scrambling, clutching for the scattered broken pieces. Cradling them in the palms of my hands, as if somehow putting them back together would fix everything, they begin to blur as tears start to sting my eyes. Rasping sobs catch in my throat.

I feel a warm hand of concern touch my shoulder.

"It was not your fault, my son."

Blinking slowly I turn my face towards that of my father but only emptiness greets me.