(dramatically) It was only a matter of time. I knew I'd make another tragic one-shot someday! Turn back if you don't like 'em! I know what I'm talking about when it comes to warnings!
This story too contains character deaths (sniffs), though I'm not really going into detail with them like I did in Rest in Peace. Use your imagination. Well, there is one, but that's only because his is a major part of the story.
I have no idea why I thought of this. But once it was in my head, I couldn't get it out! I think it's good, so I hope you will too.
Surprisingly enough, this fic is actually about Donny. I know I usually write about Leo, who's in this too naturally, but I had a sudden urge to write about our purple-clad turtle for a change. It may have a lot to do with Leo, but this is meant to be Don-centric. And they're about nineteen or twenty here. I never got to deciding which I liked better.
Well, might as well begin the torture. Once again, turn back if you don't like tragedy! Though I don't think this is quite as heart wrenching as Rest in Peace…
Disclaimer: If I owned the Ninja Turtles, cartoon shows would all of a sudden have a PG-13 rating.
How long had he been sitting here? He wasn't sure. It felt like a long time, but Donatello couldn't tell. Every minute watching his brother struggle to breathe felt like an hour. According to the digital alarm clock to his side, it was five minutes past eleven o'clock at night. That didn't really help though; that had been the first time he'd looked at it since coming in here.
Nevertheless, he must've been sitting for a while. The hard metal of the chair was starting to make an impression on his body; his back needed to be popped and his throat was dry from thirst.
But he was too afraid to get up. There were days when Leo progressively got better, and days when he got increasingly worse.
This was one of those days when he wasn't doing so well.
His elder, and last remaining brother, had caught a bad case of pneumonia about a month ago. Despite all the help Donny could give, along with all the antibiotics, penicillin and such, that April and Casey would bring, Leo hadn't quite been able to get over his illness.
Most of the time, he was delirious. He would breathe with tremendous difficulty until he passed out. Often, as of lately, he coughed up blood, sometimes even choking on it. Leo's muscles had become so weak, he could barely even move. He couldn't even sit up to eat anymore. He was in so much pain…
Don did his best, but he wasn't a doctor. And he couldn't do much anymore. When things got really bad, he would give his brother some morphine. It helped for awhile, but it always got worse again.
Picking up a wet wash cloth, Donny replaced it with the old one on Leo's forehead in an attempt to cool him down. He hadn't lost a family member to sickness yet.
He'd lost them to tragic circumstances.
Raph had been first, though they'd lost Mikey on the same day. It'd been almost three years before, after he'd run off after a brotherly brawl that had gotten out of control with his youngest brother. The red-clad turtle had gotten into a fight with a few too many Foot ninja on his own that night, judging by the numerous sword slashes across his body.
When he didn't show up for a while, and when all they got off his Shell Cell was static, they'd split up looking for him across the city. Mikey must've been the one to find him, though no one knew if that was true, and, if he had, if it had been dead or alive.
Either way, the two of them were delivered dead to their family hours later, floating in the sewers. Raph, to everyone's grief, had been dead for far too long to be saved. Don had almost been able to bring back Mikey with CPR, but before the orange-clad turtle could take a second breath, he was lost again.
Despite Master Splinter and Leo's comments of reassurance, he'd always felt guilty for not being able to save at least one of them.
Then, about a year after that day, they'd all been fighting the Purple Dragons. Somehow, they'd found their lair, a feat that even the Foot hadn't been able to master. Casey had been there that night, so they worked together in groups of two to fight; Leo with Splinter and Don with Casey.
All had been going well, no injuries whatsoever, when it turned out that one of them was carrying a small gun. Small or not, it was lethal enough to fire a bullet into Splinter's back and kill him in less than five minutes.
Leo had held him as he died.
That time, it had been Donny's turn to try and comfort his brother. Like in many other situations when Leo hadn't really done anything terribly wrong, or at all, he blamed himself.
After that, the two remaining brothers didn't do as much as they used to. Neither practiced Ninjitsu as they had once before, including Leo. They kept it up, as a kind of respect and honor for their dead family, but they couldn't make very much progress now, with no one to teach them.
Above ground, crime continued. It was no worse, yet no better, than it had been when there were four turtles amongst them in New York, stopping anything from petty crimes to alien invasions.
Once, it had seemed that they'd made some sort of impact on the rest of the world. And they probably had, for the people they'd saved, yet had never seen their faces. But injustice continued in their passing, nevertheless. Things were easily forgotten, including any good acts they'd done for that separate world they were not permitted to become a part of.
On the bed, Leo went into another violent coughing fit. Thin trails of blood found their way out of his mouth. Donny, his attention once again on his sick brother, quickly cleaned them up.
Though Leo had been sleeping before, the coughing had awakened him. He swallowed reflexively, looking for his brother, nodding when he saw him before trying to go back to sleep.
Sure he was all right for the moment, Don found himself looking at some of Leo's possessions, few as they were. Mostly, they were books or weapons. On the nightstand right next to the bed, and Donny's side, laid a pencil and one of the said works of literature.
Picking it up, the younger turtle examined it. The book was old; pages thin and with yellowing edges. But it still looked in good condition. Don glanced at the title: King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table bya man called Roger Lancelyn GreenFrom where the bookmark was placed, Leo was almost done with it, only three pages away from its completion.
A soft and raspy voice sounded from the bed. "I was close… real close to finishing it." Don looked to see Leo had managed to turn his head, where he was looking at him and the book with glazed eyes. He let out a single dry cough before continuing. "Can't even hold the silly thing on my own any more…" His voice trailed off.
"You will." Don assured him.
Leo looked at him intently. His eyes seemed to be saying 'No I won't.' He was sick, but, for the moment, he wasn't delirious. Donatello would've felt much better if he had been. When Leo was in sound mind, he more than often knew what he was talking about.
But while his brother seemed to think he was dying, Don refused to believe that. He couldn't lose another brother.
After another short coughing fit, Leo was having a harder time breathing. It was painful just to watch, but Don knew he couldn't leave him. Though he usually wasn't one to complain, especially in situations like these, he could tell Leo didn't want to be alone.
"Don," he struggled to vocalize his thoughts loud enough; "have you ever heard of Avalon?"
"No." Since he was looking at the book, he assumed Leo was talking about something he'd read in it.
He was right. Leo explained, "In that book, King Arthur is mortally wounded by his son, Mordred, on the battle field."
Deciding to joke with him in an attempt to raise both of their spirits, he placed the book back down on the little table. "Well, thanks a lot for ruining the ending, Leo! I was thinking about reading it."
"Sorry." Leo chuckled softly, but ended up coughing. Once he'd found his voice again, despite being reprimanded to rest, he went on. "Afterward, he's taken to heal in the Vale of Avalon…" Leo's voice became light, almost dreamy; "Avalon is an island paradise… the greatest warriors being taken and buried there after their deaths."
Nodding to show he was listening, Donny felt a sense of uneasiness growing in him. He didn't want to hear any talk of death right now, but he knew that that was where this conversation was inevitably leading up to.
In that short amount of time, Leo had turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "We should've buried them there… that's where they deserve to rest- not under a dead tree behind the farmhouse."
While Don had to agree with him there, he still understood that Avalon was not a real place. As poetic as it was in Leo's mind, he was sure his brother knew this too, but the fever was taking its toll on him once more, erasing the line between physical and fictive existence. Nevertheless, he agreed.
And then came the question he'd been anticipating with dreaded rejection. Leo looked at him once more. "Donny?" His voice had a hint of fear and sorrow to it that the blue-banded turtle rarely showed in life.
He scooted his chair closer to the bid before looking back at him. "Yeah?"
"If I die- and if you knew where it was…" He coughed hard twice, wincing at the pain in his chest, before seeming to contemplate finishing the question. He did. "If you could find it, would you bury me in Avalon?"
Don thought about it for a moment, debating whether to tell his brother to stop thinking of death, go along with the fantasy, blow-off the question, or give him some more medication. But as he watched him, he realized that, sick or not, this answer was important to Leo. It wasn't just a request; it was an inquiry as to whether or not he deserved such a burial site, if he was a warrior worthy of such an honor.
And Don felt that he was. They all were. Raph, Mikey, Splinter, Leo, even Donny himself had earned such a privilege. If he could have it his way, and if Avalon was in fact a real place, he felt that at least half of that island should be reserved for his family.
"Yeah, Leo." He answered truthfully, looking him in the eye, voice solemn. "I would."
Leo seemed to be contented by this. "Really?"
The purple-clad turtle nodded.
"Promise? You'd bury me there?"
He nodded again. "I promise."
With a hoarse sigh, he settled his head back into the pillow. "Thanks, Don."
Grabbing a corner of the blanket that rested across Leo's plastron; Donny moved it up under his chin. "Now try not to think about that, okay?" He glanced at the book once more, lying right where he left it. He picked it up, holding it so Leo could see. "Hey, if you want, I'll read the rest of it aloud to you."
With a short nod, Leo smiled at him. "'Kay."
Quickly, Don flipped the book open to page 328, pointing to the text at the top of the page. Oddly enough, Leo had stopped in between a chapter. "This where you left off?"
"Yeah… um, Don?"
"I love you."
The sudden comment took him a little by surprise, but he quickly overcame it. "I love you, too, bro." Silence passed for a few seconds before Donny turned his attention back to the book. "All right." After one more reassuring smile given to his brother, he read; "Round about the year 1200…"
Several times while reading, Don had to pause for Leo would go into a bout of violent coughing fits. With each one past, the next became worse.
It took nearly thirty minutes to finish the mere three pages. When done, he closed the book, holding it in his hands. The ending had been interesting, even if he hadn't read any other part of it. Maybe he would actually read it.
But such thoughts were suddenly banished from his head when he looked up at Leo. It looked like he'd gone back to sleep, but Donny immediately noticed that his brother's chest had lost the steady rise and fall that indicated he was breathing.
Lightning fast, he checked Leo's pulse. Fingers to neck… he didn't find one. Not sure if he should trust that alone, he put his head over Leo's heart. But the steady beat was gone… and his brother with it.
How had he passed without notice? Leo had left the world without making so much as another sound. He hadn't made any movement to indicate it, either. Then again, he had been lying down, arms at side.
Still, it had only been five minutes since Don had checked on him, in between reading. He'd been fine then… but obviously, he really hadn't. Remembering that fact made him realize that Leo could've only been dead for that long, at the most. Not only had he died without warning, he'd done it rather quickly.
But none of that really mattered anymore. His brother was gone. Donny was alone. He would die alone.
Part of him argued that maybe he could bring Leo back. He'd almost started to try, when he paused. His elder brother had been in so much pain these past few weeks; his pride had been hurt as well. Maybe he could be saved, but how much pain would he be in when he was back? Besides this, the chances of brain damage were high.
Don shook his head slowly, fighting against himself. He didn't want to let his brother go.
But he didn't want him to hurt anymore either.
Reluctantly putting his hands at his sides, Don looked up at Leonardo's face, partly aglow from the digital, green numbers of the alarm clock that silently announced it was now 11:47. The sole remaining turtle found a disturbing frown on the deceased, like he'd died not only from the hard battle with illness, but depressed.
Sadly, he wondered if Leo had been in discomfort. Had there been anything he could've done for him? Donny suddenly felt that he should've given Leo more morphine. Or maybe he'd done something that had upset him, though he didn't know what that could possibly be.
But quite oddly, with the exception of the fact that his brother was indeed gone, dead, the thing that concerned the purple-clad turtle the most was that, more than likely, he had died without hearing the end of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table.
Head still on Leo's chest, Don began to cry.
He didn't want him to go.
As the months went on, nearly three now, Donny spent most of his days outside and away from the lair. April and Casey often invited him over to their house, but he declined their offer more often than not.
It wasn't that he didn't want the company. That was actually the thing he wanted the most.
He just wanted that company to be his father and brothers.
Don sighed and swung his legs gently. At the moment, he was sitting on a large rock that overlooked a small lake. In his hand, he held a flat stone, the last of the day. Lately, he'd been coming here about four times a week, bringing nearly five times that many stones with each visit.
Without another word, he let this last one, for tonight, fly out of his hand and across the watery surface of the lake. It skipped three times before sinking to what would be its home for some time now.
Sometimes, Don felt like joining it.
The purple-clad turtle's eyes remained on the spot where the stone had disappeared for several minutes. Finally, with a groan, he leaned back, laying down on the rock on his shell.
He'd taken up stargazing recently. It was calming. Don couldn't bring himself to his lab or computer anymore. They were in the lair. Too many memories were in the lair.
Yet, no matter where he was, he couldn't help by fall back on them.
He remembered how Splinter could never figure out how to use the Shell Cell, or any electronic device, for that matter. He longed for the old days, coming to the dojo half-asleep. Splinter, though he undoubtedly knew why he was so tired, always went fairly easy on him. Relentlessly, but easy. The only time he ever pushed him and his brothers to the point of exhaustion was when they got sloppy.
He missed fixing things for Raph, things that his red-clad brother had broken in the first place. Though it meant that he was in a bad mood, Don wished to hear him slam a door, turn the volume up on his stereo so loud, that he couldn't think.
He missed Mikey's pranks, all of them, stupid or intricate. He wanted to see him playing Nintendo. There were still times when he'd see a new video game out and think that he should get it for his little brother. He missed the elaborate meals he made on movie nights; missed finding him sleeping on the couch after a horror movie marathon the next day.
Movies brought him back to the stars. Back when everyone was alive, Men in Black had been one of Mikey's favorite movies. He'd watch it religiously, partly because he enjoyed the story, but mostly because it got on Raph's nerves. Orion should be out tonight. While Orion's belt was a grouping of three, bright stars in its constellation, it had also been the cat's collar.
Sniffing once, Donny opened his eyes, to look for it.
But he found something else.
On his knees, by his side, was Leonardo, though not completely. He seemed… transparent. The sight sent shivers down Donny's spine. Never had he, or anyone in the family for that matter, believed in ghosts.
But here was Leo, right in front of him. Here was Leo, head upturned, gazing at Orion. Here was Leo, now looking at the lake. Here was Leo, sad eyes moving towards Donny's face.
Unable to look away, the two stayed like that for a few moments. And then, though Leo couldn't speak, Donny felt that he could hear his voice as clear as if it were being spoken through a microphone.
He mouthed, You promised.
And then he faded away.
Matching the timorous shivers that racked his body, Donatello's breath came out of him shakily as he entered the lair. It was the last place he wanted to be right now, but it was also the only one he couldn't avoid.
Slowly, but smoothly, against his will, but nevertheless compliant, he made his way into Leo's bedroom. Here was where his brother had spent his last days, his last breaths.
Like every other room in the lair, it was dusty. After Leo had died, Don had done nothing more in here but make the bed. Unable to clean out the place, every one of his brother's possessions remained untouched, as it was with Raph's, Mikey's, and Splinter's.
Now, he wished they had. The lair had become something like a mausoleum. Only the bodies were buried behind a dead and gnarled tree behind Casey's farmhouse.
Sitting down on Leo's old bed, the one he'd died on, Don watched in a creepy silence as the dust rose and dissipated in the air.
Never had he believed in ghosts. No one in his family had. Even more so, he found it impossible to believe that, if there were, Leo's would be haunting him. Donny had made his elder brother as comfortable as possible while he was dying.
That was when a sudden thump made him turn his head. It had come from Leo's bookshelf. Don frowned as he walked over to retrieve the fallen book. All of the written works in this room were stacked tightly together, against the back of their shelves. It wasn't likely that a book could fall on its own…
Book in hand, Don sat back on the bed before looking at it. And when he did, he wished he hadn't. King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table was looking up at him. The very book he'd finished for Leo that night was in his hands.
With quivering hands, Donny opened it. Flipping through the pages, he eventually came to the spot he'd read from. After staring at it for who knew how long, he became aware of another presence in the room.
Turning his head just a little, he found Leo reading over his shoulder. Don had to fight for control with the muscles in his jaw, preventing it from dropping to the ground.
Finally, the transparent Leo looked at him. They held gazes for about five seconds. Then Leo mouthed those two words again.
In his lab, with his head in his hands, Don tried to make sense of what was happening.
He knew what Leo wanted. If this was Leo, anyways. It took some time, but he'd remembered that promise he'd made to his elder brother the day he died.
"If I die- and if you knew where it was… If you could find it, would you bury me in Avalon?"
"Yeah, Leo. I would."
Don's problem wasn't that he still didn't believe in ghosts; he didn't believe in Avalon. The beautiful island from the tales of King Arthur was fantasy; Leo had been delirious when he'd asked to be buried there.
He had to know this, right? Leo, the levelheaded leader, had to know that Avalon didn't exist, didn't he?
Since birth, Donatello had been a dreamer. His imagination had assisted him in many inventions over the years. But he also knew that for any of his dreams to make their way into reality, they had to be accompanied by logic.
While an island paradise could exist somewhere out there, Avalon did not. There was no record of it anyways. And the chances of Don going out and being able to find such a place were very low.
"How am I supposed to do this?" the purple-clad turtle mumbled to himself. "I can't."
When he looked up, he found the transparent Leo sitting in the chair by the computer, arms resting on his legs and head tilted to the side. He was watching him, not out of his own grief, but in what Don realized to be sympathy for him. He faded away without his message, but Don heard it anyway, replaying it from memory.
When they were alive, Don had loved his family with every fiber of his being. Had that changed with their death?
No. Don stood up. It hasn't.
Even in death, he loved them. If Leo wanted Avalon, that's what he was going to get.
More time went by, Don spending most of it in search of something he still didn't quite believe in.
The purple-clad turtle had tried just about everything. First, his searches had been online, looking for any trace of an island called, or once known as, Avalon. All he got was street names and other miscellaneous threads of data.
Eventually giving up there, he turned to Casey Jones, who had a friend that owned a boat. After talking him into loaning it to a 'friend' for a little bit, Don had spent over two months out looking for it.
No luck, of course.
Often, he wished that his other brothers were still here. Perhaps they could have provided some help with this. While held always done most of the brain-work, Mikey and Raph had always had some input; creative ideas, methods to go about tough problems and situations. Master Splinter probably would've found a way to determine exactly what Leo had meant through meditation.
But he didn't have them. Not anymore
After the boating search, Don had resulted to a method that, if he were found out, wouldn't just get him sent to a laboratory but to a prison. He developed a way to tap into military sonar systems and had created his own program, using it to search the earth for landforms, even ones underwater. With little sleep, he'd actually come to think that maybe Avalon was Atlantis.
Now, the scan was just finishing its last sweep, over an area near Australia. Don's face was only about two inches away from the screen.
It turned up nothing.
Flopping back in his seat, Don looked at the computer blankly. Eventually, he turned his head. Leo was there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at his hands. He looked up at Don silently.
He glared at him. "I'm telling you, Leo, Avalon isn't real."
Leo just stared.
His elder brother, whether it was him or the product of Don's lonely mind, had showed up quite a lot during the search. He never smiled; was always very sad. He didn't speak, or mouth much either. When he did, Leo never said much.
Don remembered one of the times he'd seen him on the boat. He'd been angry and thrown himself on one of the two beds in the cabin. When he'd turned, Leo was sitting on the other.
"Why do you keep coming?" Don had snapped at him. Sitting up, he grit his teeth. The whole while, Leo didn't even flinch. "I have looked everywhere for Avalon. It doesn't exist!"
Yes it does. Leo had mouthed.
"Then where is it? Why can't I find it?"
Because you don't know how to look. Leo 'spoke'. You buried everyone else there, Don. Why not me?
That had caught him off-guard. Donatello certainly did not remember burying his family in any other place besides the farmhouse.
When he showed up, Donny asked Leo what he had meant. He tried again tonight.
Leo shook his head and mouthed a message. I shouldn't be one to judge your decisions.
Don sighed. "Can you at least tell me how I'm supposed to look for it?" This was another question he'd since frequently asked. "If you want Avalon so bad, tell me how to find it!"
He didn't move, just stare, as usual, with those eyes. As always, Leo was dismal. If you've already forgotten, then I'm not worth it.
He faded away.
Donny banged his fist on the table. "Leo, damn you! You are worth it!" He said, angry tears falling down his face, staining his purple mask.
Taking off his mask, he silently shut down the computer and lay in bed, once again reflecting on what had been said, using the little clues he had.
The cleared breakfast plate was in front of him, his dead brother before him.
"What are you doing?" Don asked softly.
The words were mouthed as usual. Donny had become an expert at reading lips since this began. Making sure you're okay.
Leo didn't answer right away. He looked like he'd been slapped. I'm your brother. Even if you forgot me, I'm here for you.
Don sat there stunned. "When did I forget you?"
Bowing his head, Leo began to disappear. After you promised.
It was nearing dinner now, but Donny had yet to rise from his chair since breakfast, still trying to understand how he'd forgotten his brother. How could he? Dead or not, he saw him all the time. He'd even literally searched the globe for a place he didn't believe existed, just for this brother!
So why did he feel that Leo was right?
With a groan, he craned his neck back to look at the ceiling, popping a few stiff joints in his neck as he did so, closing his eyes. Don's thoughts slowly began to drift backward, eventually coming upon memories of his eldest brother that he hadn't looked upon in a long time.
He recalled when they were six; the time when, after suffering through an evil prank, courtesy of Michelangelo, Leo had helped Donny get him back by means of a hideous monster mask, a long piece of durable thread, and a flashlight. They had won that match, hands down.
Then there was that little remote car Don had made when they were eight. After he'd fallen into the flooded sewers and nearly drowned, Leo had saved him.
Don thought about the time when all four of them had gotten sick together. Even though he was just as ill, Leo had gone around making sure everyone was comfortable, getting them extra blankets and toys. Upon Donny request, he'd even made them soup, burning his hands in the process. Despite the fact that he'd always been a horrid cook, it hadn't been so bad.
Every memory started coming up. Ones about finger-paints when they were four, ones about fights with the Shredder when they were teenagers.
That was the Leo he missed. The one that had always been there. He missed Leo's control, his grace. He missed his acute perception and his will. He missed his love.
He missed his brother. But his brother was dead.
Donny opened his eyes, crying again. He expected to find the ceiling then, but what he discovered was open sky, the color of a sunset. Not only that, he was lying down in a field of cream-colored grass that reached up to his ankles, as soft as cotton.
Abruptly sitting up, he looked around. The place didn't seem threatening at all, but the fact that he was here still made him alert. But his apprehension soon died down.
This place was beautiful. Not too far away was a huge tree with thick, green foliage. The air was warm and welcoming. In the distance, he could hear the lullaby of water meeting the surface of a beach. Everything was peaceful. The world around him was a paradise.
It was an Avalon.
That realization dawned on him suddenly. Was this what he'd been searching for all this time? Had he finally found it, just like that?
Getting up, Donny began to examine the place. He came to the giant tree. Even in the shade, the air was the perfect temperature.
Sitting down once again, the purple-clad turtle looked at what lay before him. Three markers. One for Raph, Mikey, and Splinter.
Then Leo was beside him. Solid-looking as he'd been only in life, so long ago.
Unlike all the times before, he was smiling now, glowing with happiness. He looked at Donatello. "So this is Avalon?"
Partly surprised that he could hear him now, Don answered. "I guess. I thought you'd know."
"How could I?" Leo replied, still smiling gently. "I've never been here."
Glancing back at the graves, Don took this all in. "I don't understand though. How'd we get here? I looked everywhere for this place, but I never found it. Where exactly is it?"
Leo raised his hand, gently pressing one finger on Don's plastron, over his heart. "Maybe it's not in the real world, but what's the point of getting buried on an island paradise when no one remembers you?"
Things became less fuzzy as the last pieces of the puzzle were being clicked into place.
Continuing, Leo looked back at the graves. "When they died, you kept on remembering them. They were buried here in Avalon, in your heart, forever. Every time you thought about them, you were here, visiting them. You let the dead rest, but you never forgot."
Don nodded, finally understanding. He had thought about his family. Often. But he never did the same with Leo. By not remembering him, he hadn't let him come to Avalon. The place he'd promised him at death.
"You were the last one left." Donny said. "I didn't want to be alone." He looked at his brother, ashamed with himself. "I didn't want to let you go."
Leonardo hugged him. "You don't have to completely. No one really dies, Don, not if you remember them." They broke a part. "Just don't forget me or the others, and you'll never be alone."
With another nod, Don smiled. "I won't."
They hugged once more, then Don buried Leo where he deserved to be all along.
He buried him in Avalon.
He let him go.
The world was darker, a murky twilight. His back ached and he felt drained. Why, he didn't know. Slowly, Donatello began to make sense of what was around him.
Walls surrounded him; brick and the dingy yellow color that made him realize he was back in the sewers. As he looked around some more, he found he actually knew what room he was in, from the weapon displays on the walls and bookshelves lined with novels arranged and packed neatly in the corner.
He was in Leo's room, just as it had been before.
When Don turned his head back around, he met the glowing digits of the alarm clock. As if they'd been waiting for him to look, the time changed as he did so, becoming eighteen minutes past twelve in the morning.
It was only then that the turtle realized that his head was resting on someone's chest. He raised his head up, feeling that familiar metal chair he'd sat in the night Leo died, knowing that that same brother was the one lying before him. And he was right.
Realizing that everything was the same as that night, it occurred to him that all the things that had just happened were only a dream. In reality, he'd always been here, beside his dead brother. All the things he remembered had past in his mind within a little more than thirty minutes. Nothing had really happened. It had seemed so real, but it had never happened.
But as he looked around, Don realized that one thing had changed.
Before him, Leo remained still, cold, dead, and without heartbeat, just as he had at death. Time, however, had eased him into a more relaxed form. His face all the more peaceful, Don saw that the distressing frown had been erased.
It almost looked like he was smiling.
That was quite a long fic! I've been working on it, perfecting it since November! I'm quite proud; I think I did well.
Did I just jinx myself? Is no one gonna review now?
So everyone knows, I do not, I repeat, do not, believe in ghosts or any spirit mediums. I honestly believe that any examples of this are demons, which I do believe exist. I believe in heaven, I don't think there's a hell.
From the very beginning of this story idea, I knew that it would all end up being a dream. Originally, I wasn't even gonna write it, but it wouldn't go away.
And, just a little side note here, this happens to be my Anniversary Fic. That's right, I've officially been annoying y'all with suspense for a full year now. I think I'll write a one-shot for every anniversary, a little tradition. Some will be sad, like this one, but others will be funny.
So, if you liked Avalon, drop a review! Thanks so much for reading!