#lost ronin

“Why do you cry, Little Red?”

Raphael turns away from the image of his father, hands shaking until he slams them against his tympana. He shakes his head, whimpering softly to himself, “No, no, you’re not real. You’re not real.”

Splinter takes a cautious step forward, hand reaching out for his son. His voice is soft when he asks, “What do you mean, Red? I’m right here.”

Raphael flinches before the rat man’s hand touches his arm, fear igniting within him. He scurries away on all-fours, desperate to get away from the trickery that has taken form of his beloved father. He shakes his head more violently, “No, stop! You’re not real!”

Splinter retracts his outreached hand, holding his thin fingers to his chest. His expression warps to one of concern, eyebrows etched with worry and helplessness. Again, he tries to reach out to Raphael with his voice, “Red, my son, I’m right here. Your father is here, look at me.”

Raphael shuts his eyes tight, his face shrinking from the effort. He shakes his head just as violently as he raises his voice to block out Splinter’s voice, “No, no! You’re dead! You’re not real!”

Splinter’s taken aback, his jaw dropping slightly in disbelief and shock. “Dead?” He repeats, “Red, I—but I’m right here…”

His brothers wouldn’t do that to him—whatever happened to him. He trusts his brothers, they wouldn’t lead him into burning waters. If that was even water…

He throws his legs over his bed and rises slowly, fighting against the jelly-like feeling that renders his legs near useless. He massages his leg muscles, trying to get feeling back to them.

“What even was that…?” He mumbles aloud while scratching the back of his head.

It didn’t make sense. Then again, a lot of his dreams recently didn’t make sense.