Donatello was too busy immersed in metal parts and blowtorch heat to hear it, but finally his oldest's brother's yelling reached him. Leonardo had grown up being authoritative, and his voice had a distinct actual authoritative flavor.

"Mikey! I told you to clean the kitchen an hour ago! Why are you still sitting there? You're not even playing the game. Get up and go clean!"

Donnie removed his welding mask and stood up, feeling an odd pinch of concern. He waited for the usual patented whine from his little brother. Silence.

Frowning, Don left the lab and looked down into the pit. Michelangelo was sitting ramrod straight on a bean bag, controller clenched in his hands, eyes wide and staring at the television.

"Mikey, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, Leo, yeah. Just…gimme a minute." Mikey's voice sounded strangled.

"That was sixty minutes ago." Leo's arms were folded. He looked tired.

Donnie cocked his head, brain whirling. This was nothing like Mikey's normal bored attitude. And then, abruptly, he remembered, like a television turned up too loud. He remembered the first time this happened, months ago, during Mikey's first episode of major depression. He remembered his brother wanting to move, wanting to do something, and he just…couldn't, and the frustration and stress in his entire body was pure pain.

Without thinking, Don settled next to Mikey and rubbed his arm. "Hey."

Mikey's eyes flickered toward him. "Hey."

Donnie offered a sweet smile. "Start by standing up."

Taking a deep breath, Mikey nodded. He dropped the controller and slowly rose to his feet.

"Standing," he murmured, as if to himself. Don found himself nodding.

"Donnie," Leo said, puzzled, "what are you doing?"

"Helping," Don said. "Okay, Mikey. Step two. Turn toward the kitchen."

"Turning," Mikey repeated, exhaling as if in relief.

Don saw Raph arrive, looking bewildered. "This a game or something?"

Donnie kept his hand on Mikey's shoulder, feeling the muscles flex and tense. "No, guys. It's executive dysfunction. You should know by now."

Mikey made a strange whimpering noise. Don tightened his grip. It's all right, you can do it, Mikey, just concentrate. "Mikey, start walking. One foot in front of the other."

With a nearly imperceptible sob, Mikey shuffled toward the kitchen. Don went with him,

Raph was right behind. His brow was pinched and he almost looked angry. "Wait. I remember. Isn't that what happens when you wanna do something and your brain won't let you, because, um, neurons?"

"Mm-hm." Don rubbed Mikey's arm again. They were in the kitchen, and Mike was breathing in a meditative way. "Next step, find the broom," he murmured.

He shrugged off Don's hand. Then, as if a fog had faded, his entire body shuddered, and Mikey was easily sweeping the floor, clearing surfaces, as if nothing had happened. He was singing under his breath. Donnie recognized it as a Rihanna song.

Beside him, Leo's shoulders were hunched. "Well, now I feel crappy."

Don glanced at him. Leo was watching Mikey carefully. "Well, considering I had to force myself to work through my own EF whenever you pushed me, I consider this a fine time to allow myself to punch you and call you a jerk."

Leo's eyes widened as he turned to him. Don grinned and punched his shoulder. "Jerk."

Leo smiled sheepishly and rubbed his arm. "Sorry, Don."

"It's cool, I love you."

Mikey scrubbed the kitchen counter a little too hard, and Leo gently took his hand and slowed his movements. Mikey's head jerked up and then his startled glare softened. He looked like a woodland creature prepared to flee from a predator. His hands were actually shaking, and, to Leo's shock, visible lines of pale orange energy crawled along Mikey's skin. The sponge flew from his hands and slid wetly across the counter.

Leo gawped for a moment. "Mikey, was that…did you…how…"

Mikey's dilated eyes lowered. "I, uh, d-did I mention I just found out I got telekinesis?"

Raphael leaned over Leo's shoulder. "Seriously? When?"

Mikey, still not looking up, bit his lip. "Like…a week ago. I woke up from a nightmare and all my action figures were floating around."

Donatello stepped forward, nudging around Leo to rub Mikey's head. "Don't be ashamed, little brother. Come on, tell them what you told me that morning."

Raph stared at him. "You knew about this?"

Don shrugged. "Mikey and I talk a lot." He didn't miss Raph's pout and narrowed eyes. He just rolled his eyes.

"Um," Mikey whispered, "I-I think it happened because I wished so bad to f-feel super useful, y'know, aside from making you laugh and relax?"

There was a stony silence. Leo and Raph stared at each other, then at Don, then at Mike.

"Mikey…" Leo softened his voice even more. "You know we don't think you're useless."

"You used to. You used to pass me around because you didn't wanna team up with me. You used to call me a poor excuse for a ninja. I was always messing up on patrol anyway, I think part o' me just…totally accepted it. I was useless. I was no good unless I followed direct orders. I'm still kinda useless." Mikey's gaze was on the floor and his fists were clenched, that amber-colored energy traveling up his arms.

"Oh…Mikey…I…" And before Leo could reach for him, a sensation like repelled magnets met his body and he stumbled back. A force field. Mikey had put up a telekinetic shield around himself.

"Mikey, stop that!" And Raph was snarling. "Stop thinkin' you're useless, cuz you're not and we all know that! So just….just stop it!"

"YOU DON'T GET IT!" And the cupboards rattled. There were tears in Mikey's eyes now. "You still don't…you can't…why won't you…Raph, you should know this. All this…all this emotion you can't control, you can't help feeling and it hurts and nobody gets it but I thought you would!"

"My son!" They turned as Splinter rapidly walked straight to Michelangelo, pressing his hands into the amber barrier. It collapsed, and Mikey gritted his teeth, slowly raising his head.

"Papa…I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've told you this happened."

"It is all right, Michelangelo," and Splinter cupped his face in both hands. "I had sensed it the moment it happened. I have been waiting for you to come to me."

Mikey swallowed. "Th-that's the problem, Sensei. Y-you don't come to me. You know when I need you but you don't reach out."

Leonardo gasped heavily. Raph raised an eyeridge. Don bit his lip.

Splinter breathed easily, smiling. "You are right, Michelangelo. You are right. That is my mistake. You see, you have always slid under my radar. I tend to assume nothing is wrong with your spirit, as it appears steadily cheerful and proud. However, I understand that perhaps out of all of us, you are most skilled at masking your emotions, at projecting a cover so we do not need to worry."

Mikey seemed to deflate. "You do understand." He wrapped his arms around Splinter's waist and buried his face in his robe. "Thank you."

Splinter said nothing, only nuzzled his youngest's head firmly.

"Now," he said softly, "please show me your new ability, Little One."

Mikey sniffled and rapidly nodded his head, not wanting to remove himself from the smell of incense and fur and warmth. After a few seconds, Leo clasped Mikey's shoulder, and Mikey turned fully looked at him, tears streaming down his face, and smiled.

Leo smiled shakily back and swallowed, his head ringing with low-level guilt. "I don't want him, and I'm in charge!" Oh, kami, no, Mikey, no no no, I never should have said that, it was so long ago, we were so young. You are the best of us. You shine the brightest. You're our heart.

And Mikey tilted his head, suddenly frowning, and surged forward, hugging Leo chokingly tight. Did…did he hear me?

A thought, not his, in Mikey's voice, whispered, I heard you, Leo. I love you, man.

Leo couldn't speak for the lump in his throat.

As they stood in the dojo, Mikey in the center closest to the tree, Raph clenched and unclenched his fists, anxiety surging through him. Out of all the traumatic things they had gone through starting with Mikey's first depression episode, this somehow seemed the most unnerving. It didn't seem real.

Splinter had set up various objects on a tatami mat and stood in front of the tree, motioning for Michelangelo to step closer.

"Begin with the lightest object, the wooden comb."

Mikey's hands, limp at his sides, twitched a little, and the comb hovered several feet up before returning to its place. In Raph's mind, something bothersome started to nudge, but he waved it away.

The heaviest object was a statue made of stone. It lifted and hovered two feet in the air, trembling, and sweat was beading along Mikey's forehead. Raph swore his eyes were glowing.

As the statue carefully set itself back on the mat, a shiver ran violently across Mikey's shoulders and Donnie sprang to his side. Mikey just stared blankly, frowning. Raph leaned in to look; his eyes were glowing. The bright blue was flaring like a light.

"Very good, Michelangelo," Sensei said, as if from far off. "Do not push yourself anymore. Donatello, please check him over and escort him to the couch."

"I'm okay," Mikey said in a very small, very quiet voice. But he kept staring at the objects on the mat while Donnie examined him, and didn't move until Don made a nudging motion. Raph grabbed Mikey's arm and tugged him until Mikey began to walk robotically. They made it to the Pit. Leo and Don sat on a bench together. Raph settled his little brother on a bean bag and turned on the TV. Mikey had pulled his knees up, chin resting on them, looking pensive.

Eyes narrowed, Raph shifted until he was sitting shoulder to shoulder. He cleared his throat.

"Ya didn't really want ta show us, did you."

Slowly, Mikey stared at him.

Raph tried not to grind his teeth. When he got especially nervous, his accent got thicker and it got harder to control his irritation. He knew Mikey could sense it.

"Thought y'could maybe keep it a secret just a lil longer, right? Long enough to figure it out, do tricks, pull some weird stunts, maybe talk ta April, eventually mention it ta Splinter. Then let us know in the middle of, like, a battle, or a game."

Mikey squirmed, started rocking, and rubbed his face against his knee pads. Donnie had called it stimming.

Raph wasn't used to doing the talking. He stared at his hands, working his jaw. Suddenly something was pressed into his hands. "Mikey, isn't this your fidget spinner?"

"Play with it. Helps calm you down."

A pair of dragons biting each other's tails. He spun it and watched the dragons chase each other around the bearing. It was slightly mesmerizing. He grinned, catching his brother's eye.

"You know…" Mikey paused, cleared his throat. Raph sat up straighter, nodding automatically.

"'Member when Master Splinter did that…that spirituality evaluation on us? An' of course April was strongest because she's part Kraang so that wasn't even fair, and Casey was the weakest because, like, he's Casey?"

Raph grinned. "Donnie's too logical, I'm too…what was it? Emotionally compromised? But you and Leo…" He blinked. "You were more spiritually balanced than Leo. Almost as good as Splinter. And I rememba, Leo got this funny scowl on his face, like he was proud and annoyed both…"

"And you laughed at him," Mikey said, "and then I teased you, and then Splinter hit us all with his staff."

Raph struck the spinner again. "You 'n Leo. You have this connection. You should…should work with that."

Mikey nodded. "Our auras are different. Our techniques are different. But we get to the same place in the end."

Raph understood. "Leo's gotta understand that you out of all of us can't follow his pattern."

Mikey grinned and continued the spin. "Imma talk to him soon. Maybe tonight. We can go topside for a run, stretch our intuitive senses, like."

Raph elbowed him. "Dorks."

"Yup!"

Raph handed him the spinner. Mikey waved it away. "Hold onto it for me. I gots a squeezy ball in my belt pouch."

The movie they hadn't been paying attention to blared an action scene and caught Raphael's attention. Leonardo was suddenly sitting on Mikey's other side. "I heard part of what you said. About you and I going topside together."

Mikey lit up. "So, can we? Like, tonight?"

Leonardo nodded. "On patrol, we'll team up."

"Sweet. Thanks, bro."

With the night sky prominent and cloudy, Leonardo signaled for Raph and Don to begin their patrol. He smacked Mikey's arm and ran to the edge of the rooftop, grinning.

Within no time, Mikey had leapt onto his carapace, wrapping arms and legs around him. "Tag, bro!"

Leo pressed his hands to the roof's edge, laughing. He wriggled until Mikey got the hint and jumped away, and they continued jumping from roof to roof, scanning alleys and streets.

"Hey, it's raining," Mikey announced.

Leo pulled up to a stop. "No, it isn't."

The rain began quickly, pouring down in sparse, heavy drops.

Mikey giggled.

Leo shrugged. "Well, this might be as good a time as any to stretch out our spiritual feelers."

They grasped hands and concentrated. Leo felt the glow of deep meditation and the shimmer of how close the astral plane was. But this time a bright amber-orange light pulled him closer and deeper, twining them together, pulling them up into the sky, hovering over New York. Leo sensed more than saw the streets, and automatically began looking for activity. He and Mikey sensed it at the same time – a group of large men robbing a drug store a couple of buildings over.

He opened his eyes to find Mikey's eyes brighter than usual, determination on his face. Nodding, Leo led the silent jumps, leaps, and runs down fire escapes into alleys along walls. The rain masked their approach.

Five men dressed in black were loading boxes into a red van. Mikey called from the shadows, "Think you got enough fiber and baby wipes there, guys?"

The group froze. They pulled out knives of various sizes.

"Guess you weren't expecting company." Mikey grinned and spun his nunchucks, stepping out slightly.

"Shit!" someone yelled. "Mutants!"

The closest one rushed forward and Mikey easily dodged and parried. Leo hurried toward the van, swords flashing. "Don't move and drop what you've stolen," he growled. "We don't want to fight you but we will if you force our hand."

Two men attacked him in classic karate style, while a third scrambled for the driver's seat of the van. Leo went on the defense, moving toward the struggling driver, yanking him down and knocking him out.

"These guys are good, but they're no Bruce Lee," Mikey cackled, and Leo let himself relax a little, knowing his brother was holding his own. He barked at Mikey to gently take them down while Leo went for the stolen goods in the van. He swiftly knocked one unconscious, lightly sliced the arm of another, who dropped his knife, and grappled with a much stronger thief at the back of the van. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey and the largest, bulkiest man circling each other. The thief had a dagger in one hand and was throwing punches with the other. Mikey looked deeply focused, gritting his teeth.

Leo's opponent stole his attention again, slashing the long, thick knife at his neck and head. Leo found himself working to dodge and block.

He took a deep slice to his shoulder and returned it, causing the man to howl, and had kicked the man to the street, when he heard Mikey make a strangled, wet gasp, and felt a thunderous explosion of color in his head that left whiteness in its wake. He stumbled. When he could see again, his soul screamed.

Mikey was standing completely still, eyes impossibly wide. The huge thief was close enough to hug. Blood was dripping onto the ground. The human's hand, fisted around the hilt of his knife, was touching the right side of Mikey's plastron.

Leo felt himself scream, felt his body hurtle forward, and all he saw was color, color, dark reds and dark blues and dark yellows and dark dark dark. He felt his katana slide into the man's side and abdomen, his foot forcefully pushing the man into the air, away from his brother, the knife yanking out with a horrifying sucking sound, causing Leo's heart to freeze.

Michelangelo was already falling, eyes closing, dark blood leaking faster and faster, and Leo's arms filled with him.

This can't be happening.

Time had completely slowed.

He had Mikey lying on his carapace, his hand already pressing over the wound, blood bubbling up between his fingers. "No," he moaned. "Mikey."

This can't be happening.

Frantically struggling to remember lessons from Splinter and Donatello, Leo stared at his brother, watching him breathe slowly, carefully. Mikey's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at him, smiled. "S'okay, 'eo, okay? I…I pressed…panic…b'ttn. D-Don an' Rah…be hh-here s-soon." His eyes closed and he let out a long shuddering breath.

Swallowing, Leo fumbled for his own T-Phone and saw the blaring light. He bit his lip. Not soon enough. Oh god. I need gauze. He nearly ripped off his belt looking for the right pouch. He found gauze and pressed a wad of it to the sucking chest wound. He felt sick.

This can't be happening.

The rain pounded against them, washing away the blood pooling under Mikey. Leonardo couldn't think. He leaned over and cradled Michelangelo to him, so their cheeks touched. His face was soaked and he had no idea if it was tears or rain, but his body was trembling, his breathing was hitching. With one hand he kept the pressure on the wound, the gauze turning red. With the other he held his baby brother tight, rocking him. He could feel Mikey's slowing pulse, thumping weakly and fading, and he sobbed in rage against it. A voice was in his head, maybe not his, a voice made of ambers and oranges and yellows and sunset colors. Healing Hands. Mantra.

Healing Hands.

Crying out in hiccupping gasps, Leonardo arranged his brother on the ground and shakily worked his fingers through the mantras, screaming them out into the cold wind. His hands, his glowing blue hands, pressed to Michelangelo's torso, to the wound in the chest wall on the right, to where the heart staggered on the left. No, Mikey, no, no, keep fighting, don't leave me!

It wasn't right, it wasn't right, he wasn't supposed to die here, not now, not like this.

"No, no, no," Leo was whispering, sobbing, pressing his hands deeper and deeper until they were almost inside, the spiritual and psychic sense of sheer power flowing through him, colliding violently with Mikey's own psychic senses, which grabbed his and twisted, wrenched, yanked, flowed into. Blue and orange pushed and pulled at each other, circling like dragons biting each other's tails. Leo found himself somehow in a different position, still glowing, one hand atop the other, pushing on Mikey's rib cage, Mikey who was glowing orange.

Energy flowed into a funnel, and thunder sounded in the distance.

His throat raw, Leo screamed out the mantras again, pumping his hands harder. Something was helping, some power that he was merely borrowing, a playful energy flooding his hands and his brain, a mischievous energy tugging him inward, insistent and impatient and determined.

Colors surrounded him, shades of red and shades of purple. Purple moved carefully like steady earth, moved in too close and Leo hissed. "Leo, it's me," Donnie's voice said. "I need to see the wound." Leo felt a growl bubble up in his throat, and Red slammed down on his shoulders, fire sparking across his aura. "Easy, Fearless," Raph's voice said. "It's gonna be okay."

Leonardo was halfway through another round of the mantras when Orange exploded, erupting and pouring forth like a blast of air, like a hurricane bursting into sudden existence. He blinked, his head spinning. Reality returned. He saw Michelangelo, coughing and panting, head turned to the side, water and bile and blood spilling from his mouth. He saw Donatello, hands flying between Mikey's chest wound and his medical bag. He saw Raph, crouching beside him with a strong arm around his shoulders. Blinking again, Leonardo realized just how severely and forcefully he was shaking, his teeth chattering. Water was beading off his skin, soaking, but he didn't feel cold.

"Don, Leo might be goin inta shock."

"Here. Hang on. Here, give him this."

There was a sharpness in the crook of his elbow. A pair of wide, deep green eyes came into view. "Fearless, you with me? Can ya hear me? You're gonna feel drowsy in a few minutes, it's a sedative, got it? Donnie's taking care of Mikey, he'll be okay."

Leo just stared, trying to reorient himself.

Raph patted his cheek, eyes narrowing. "C'mon, Leo, stop blanking out like that. Come on. We gotta go home. Splinter will help Mikey. We'll get you warmed up. Hey, look at me. Leo!"

A harder slap. Leo blinked again and finally focused.

"Okay, Raph," he coughed.

Raph's entire face visibly crumbled in relief. "Okay. Good. Okay. Okay."

Leo didn't move. Raph looked over at Donnie, who was saying something. Raphael nodded and left him to crouch over Mikey. Donnie was next to Leo now, sinewy powerful arms hauling him up. "C'mon, Leo. We're not that far from home. Raph will carry Mikey. I've got you." He slung a long arm around Leo's shoulders and gripped him. Leo concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, leaning heavily into his tall younger brother's side.

They walked, Leo's body instinctively marching him forward at a brisk pace that startled Donnie. Raph was just ahead, Mikey cradled in his arms. Leo let out a huge sigh.

So, that happened.

It might have been hours. Leo woke up in his own bed, tucked in under blankets. There was slightly warm tea on the nightstand. He sat up and drank it slowly and his mind automatically reached out. Blue darted back and forth across the lair until a giggling sensation tickled it. Orange was a rolling mist, tugging at Blue, who followed into the lab, into the infirmary. Mikey was asleep in the bed, tubes up his nose and attached to his plastron. Mikey…

Sleepy flares of sunset colors sparked and glimmered.

Wha d'you want, 'eo, I'm s'eepin.

Just need to make sure you're all right, Little Brother.

I'm okay, dude, I'm okay. You did good. You did better than I ever considered. Gonna have to teach me those Mantras, bro.

Between the Healing Hands and your new telekinesis, I think this family just got a new medical team.

Right on, yo. Now go back to sleep. And thanks for saving my life.

Blue grinned tiredly. What are brothers for?

It was days later. Michelangelo wasn't yet able to train physically. He and Splinter would work on his telekinesis while the others sparred. His wound had fully closed, but his lung was still recovering. He had developed a fever and occasionally his hands shook too much to hold things. Leo's shoulder wound was not even a scar, and Splinter suspected that the free-flowing energy between Leo and Mikey had healed it completely.

When training was over, Leo came and sat next to Mikey, watching him move, slide, and hover things. He could feel the forces in his mind building and stretching and working – and he could feel it when those forces were blocked, abruptly, by nothing but neurology. When Mikey's fists clenched as his brain fizzled, crackling with static, Leo warmly put his hands over them, rubbing his thumbs over the knuckles. "Take it easy for a while," he said, "try again later."

Even if later did take an hour or so.