Casey Jones hates funerals.

He thought that his dad's funeral took the cake for one of the worst days of his life, beaten out only by the day he died. Everything about it was so heart-wrenchingly awful that even now, weeks after the fact, Casey swears he can remember every horrible detail: the casket, the creak as the coffin slowly dropped into the dark maw of earth, and the cries of friends and loved ones.

At least Casey could walk away from that patch of ground. He could try to forget and move on.

Not now. He can walk away, but Zilla and the memories she left him with will stick with him forever, literally inked into his skin.

Snowflakes drift from the sky, littering the dead, brown grass with specks of white. The cemetery is empty of all life save for the mourners and the sun has just begun to set over the distant trees, bathing the grey sky with small stripes of pink and orange. It's a beautiful day to say goodbye.

It's a small, private gathering. Eustace and Harry discussed inviting Zilla's old classmates, but they didn't know where to start. They opted to take the time later to find people and send out invitations to pay their respects at her grave site and, for the actual funeral, they kept it to a far smaller, more mutated group.

Casey was more than nervous to tell them the truth about everything that had happened. How would Harry and Eustace handle the existence of mutants? Most New Yorkers actively pretend that the two previous Kraang invasions never happened, much less acknowledge the very real case of mutants living under their feet and hidden in alleyways all around them. But the Nezbits took it all in stride and asked to meet the mutants who tried to help their little girl.

That brings them here, to this sad little funeral on a small plot of land.

The turtles changed into black masks for the occasion and each of their girlfriends wear dark clothing. Casey has never seen Sarina in anything darker than grey; black makes her look ghostly. Andy, April, and Splinter are also present. Even Splinter switched his usual red kimono for a black one. Casey wears the same suit he wore to his dad's funeral.

Casey always thought that part of what made a funeral so terrible was seeing the body, a stark reminder that the person you love is dead, but he isn't so sure now. There's no coffin here, no ashes, nothing to bury but memories and childhood keepsakes. Eustace and Harry could have easily forgone purchasing a headstone, but they felt that a place to symbolically put her to rest was far more important than money.

The headstone is beautiful, carved from brown marble and engraved with wings on either side of the epitaph.

Zilla Nezbit
An angel taken home too soon
1998 ~ 2016

The funeral passes. Eustace and Harry share their favourite memories with Zilla through their tears, talking about soccer games and hockey and movie nights. Andy steps up to say a few words about her from back when they were students, although she apologizes for not being close with her.

"Punks and jocks don't mix, really," she says. "But from the sounds of it, Zilla was definitely more hardcore than I ever was." She looks at her phone, her eyes dewy as she takes a deep breath and looks back at the stone. "All I can really say is thank you, Zilla. Thank you for saving my brother. I can't ever repay you."

It sticks a lump in Casey's throat again.

As the funeral concludes, Eustace steps forward. He clears his throat, clasping his hands together. "I want to thank you all for coming, again," he says. "If you're comfortable, Harry and I would like to invite you to our home for refreshments."

"We'd be honoured," Leonardo says, bowing his head. His brothers and Splinter follow his lead.

Too soon, it's over. As people trickle back to their vehicles, Casey stays rooted in place, staring down at the stone. Harry and Eustace put a few framed pictures of Zilla in her childhood days up for display, nestled among the flowers. Casey blows out a breath as he stoops for his bag, pulling out the mutated soccer ball from inside.

He sets it down next to a photo of her in her soccer jersey, one foot propped against a soccer ball, hands on her hips like a conquering hero as she smiles up at him from the four walls of the picture frame.

"I know it's not my fault," he says. "I just don't know what to do with grief without guilt."

A cold breeze blows, rustling the bouquets. He barely feels it. He's felt especially resistant to the cold since his tattoo appeared. Just another side effect, he supposes.

He sighs. "I don't know how to be happy, Zilla," he says. "I was starting to remember how, because of you, and now I'm back at square one...also because of you. Thanks for that...jerk."

He exhales, shaking his head as he digs his hands into his pockets. It's stupid to be mad at her when she's the only reason he's breathing, but he's learned that feelings are irrational. His thoughts and his feelings keep jumping from one to another. She's gone and all she asked is that he not blame himself, but blaming her makes him feel like shit. What is he supposed to do with this swirling miasma of sorrow and rage and melancholy that won't leave him alone?

"Fuck," he mutters. "This fucking sucks, Shadow."

He keeps thinking of the letter she wrote to him. He's read it so much that he memorized it and whenever he starts to spiral, he thinks of her words. He wishes he could hear her saying it to him because he's already forgetting the sound of her voice and that scares him.

That's maybe the worst part of losing someone. Casey can't remember what his dad sounded like and even though he can still picture his face, it's already fuzzy around the edges. How long will it be before he can't remember all the little details that made Zilla, Zilla?

"Hey, kid."

He looks back. Eustace stands just behind him, lips pursed, and that stupid lump of emotions makes its way back into Casey's throat. "Hi," Casey says.

Eustace takes a deep breath and stares at the stone. There are dark circles under his eyes and there's a new weight on his shoulders that makes Casey's stomach twist. He's the one who made him carry it. Casey could have left them alone and let them live in ignorance about their daughter for as long as they wanted.

If Casey hadn't gotten hurt, if he had noticed what had happened to him sooner, then maybe she could have gone home to them.

"I get it, if...if you hate me now," Casey says. Eustace's brow lifts. "I tried to get her to come home to you, but now...I—"

"Why would I hate you?" he asks. There's genuine confusion in his voice.

"Your daughter is dead because of me."

His eyes shimmer with pain as he looks back at the stone. He takes another long breath, closing his eyes for a second. "From what you told me, and that letter she left us...she's been dead for years." He smiles weakly at Casey. "You just gave her the chance to pass on."

Casey's eyes fill with tears and he turns away, trying to dab them away before they escape. He hears the crunch of icy steps before Eustace's hand falls against his shoulder. Before Casey can try to reject it, Eustace brings him into a gentle hug.

Casey cries.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Eustace rubs his back. When he speaks, it's thick with emotion, "You gave Harry and me closure," he murmurs. "That's worth more than you know."

Casey nods. When they finally separate, Eustace's eyes are red-rimmed but his cheeks are dry, and Casey doesn't know how he can be so strong.

Maybe Casey can follow in his footsteps and learn how.

----------

It's nice, hanging out in the Nezbit's apartment, enjoying food and drink. Casey finds himself in a group with Raphael, Taylor, and Andy, each of them sipping their sparkling juice and eyeing the others as they partake in light conversation.

"What's next, then?" Casey asks. "You guys need to get back to school."

Taylor waves her hand. "I let my profs know about a death in the family. They're cool, and I can catch up later." She smiles a little. "It can't be worse than catching up with all the school I missed before."

"I hope mine are just as lenient," Andy admits. "Dylan, Sam, and Ash said they'd take super thorough notes in our labs. I'm gonna be slammed when I get home."

Casey shrinks into himself a little. "I'm sorry about that..."

"The hell are you apologizing for?" Andy retorts. "I'm the one who didn't message my profs before I left." She eyes Taylor. "Should've taken a page out of your book."

Taylor laughs. "Oh, please, I'm no role model."

Casey swirls his drink a little in thought, gaze sliding to Raphael as the girls keep talking. "What about you, man?"

Raphael shrugs. "What about me?"

"Come on, you've got a ride to Philadelphia now," Casey says. "You can meet up with Slash and the others. Kick some ass!"

Raphael's eye-ridges raise. "Maybe New York still needs me."

Casey gives him a deadpan look. "Dude, you don't have to pretend for me." Raphael's lips purse and Casey can't help but smile a little. "Go with Taylor. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"I've got Wolfie to keep me in check."

"Good point." Raphael's head bobs from side to side as he thinks. "I just don't want you to think I'm abandoning you, man."

"Thanks, dude. That means a lot."

"Just promise you'll reach out if you need it. None of this...hiding away stuff you were doing before."

Casey raises his hands in a surrender motion. "Fair, fair. Believe me, I...think I'm in a better place now than I was then anyway."

It feels weird to be talking about being in a better place on the tail end of a friend's funeral, but Casey means it. He had nothing when his dad died, no future, no prospects. Now, he has an even wider support net and something to work towards. A new lease on life.

"The way I see it, it wouldn't be my life I'm wasting now," Casey says. "I'm gonna make the most of my second chance. And..." He sighs. "I'm gonna get therapy."

"Glad to hear it, man."

Casey glances across the room at April as she chats with Leonardo. His heart skips a beat and he takes a long drink from his glass. There's a lot he needs to take care of.