A short ficlet I wrote for a contest on Deviantart, based on Myrling's artwork titled "Just a Scratch".
Admittedly, not my best work. It was written quickly, and meant to fit into a small word limit, so there's not much elaboration, but I liked it enough to want to share it here.
5 years old
"Ow! Ow! OW! That hurts!"
"I haven't even touched it yet, Mikey!" Donatello stood opposite his younger brother, inspecting a sliver that invaded the younger's finger. "Hmmm." He hummed as he stared at the afflicting piece of wood, getting a decent angle before using a pair of tweezers to pry it out without much trouble. Only a small bubble of blood left any indication that there'd been an injury at all.
"It's bleeding! I'm bleeding! You can't stop the blood! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" Mikey cried as his brother pulled out an old metal lunchbox he'd recently found and drawn a red cross on top with a label that said 'med kit'.
"You're not gonna die, Mikey. I can fix it!" Donnie rummaged through his kit until he found the small box of Batman Band-Aids, a wide grin on his face; this was his first time getting to use his med kit and it was very exciting.
"You sure? You're not gonna cut off my finger?"
"I'm sure. Don't worry little bro, I'll make it all better!" With giant puppy eyes that glistened with tears, Mikey looked away as Don affixed the Band-Aid with gentle fingers. "There! See? All better!"
Mikey rubbed the tears from his eyes, looking from the Batman Band-Aid to his brother's proud smile. Donnie had fixed his finger and made the pain go away like magic. He really was a genius! "Thanks, D." He said through a sniffle as Don packed up his kit. "You're the best!"
15 years old
"Calm down, D." Mikey winced as his brother held his bleeding arm, turning it over with trembling hands as he rushed to staunch the blood flow.
"This is a big deal, Mikey! That kunai almost hit your bone, and if I don't set this right, you might have permanent nerve damage."
The younger turtle hid a grimace behind a smile as his brother bandaged the wound. He did his best to keep from yelping in pain as Don worked, watching the worry in his bother's eyes grow. "No worries." He caught Don's gaze and smiled wide. "I'm sure you can wave your medical wand and make it all better!"
"I'm serious, Mikey."
"So am I, D." Don glanced up at his younger brother's confident eyes, not a worry or concern hidden in any corner of his features. Pure trust. "You always make it better."
Staring at his baby brother a moment longer, Don felt confidence surge anew as he continued his task. It took another hour to stitch and bandage everything up, but once the job was done, the tall turtle was confident his brother would heal well. "There." He sighed, feeling his panic finally ebb.
Mikey slowly turned his arm to get a view of the bandages and eye his brother's hard work. "See? All better!"
Don shook his head with a humoured roll of his eyes. "Just don't move it too much. And no patrol until it's healed, got it? "
"Aye, Aye!" Mikey went to salute with the wrong hand, immediately grasping it to his plastron with a wince before peeking at his brother and beaming. "Thanks D, you're the best."
35 years old
"Guys, we need to end this!" Don shouted over his shoulder as he pressed his hands to Mikey's side. The wound was deep, as indicated by the amount of blood now pooling on the floor, but he'd need his lights and equipment at home to get a good enough look to make sure nothing vital was damaged. They needed to get Mikey home. Now.
Leo and Raph stepped up their game, the worry in Don's voice adding fuel to their protective fires. Foot soldiers were felled left, right, and centre, the herd thinning with each passing moment.
"Party-pooper." Mikey pouted with a wheeze as he glanced at the battle raging behind Don's shell. "Things were just gettin' fun."
"I'd hardly call this fun." Don pulled his mask from his face, using the fabric to hold back the blood from gushing further.
Mikey winced at the pressure. "No Don, not the mask! You'll…" He paused to cough a laboured breath. "…give away your secret identity." His feigned worry was met with an unamused glare by his taller sibling. "Hello? This thing… on?" His words faded with each shallow breath.
"Stop talking and save your energy." Don spoke with practiced calm, very used to dealing with his younger sibling's antics, even in such serious circumstances. As Mikey looked about to reply, his eyes snapped shut and a hiss of pain cut through his teeth. Don looked down to the wound and found something glinting in the starlight. A small shard from the offending weapon was wedged into the gash, hiding in Mikey's blood.
Gathering his panic and shoving it out of mind, as he'd done so many times over the years, Don manoeuvred his hands so they were no longer pressing on the shard but still slowing the blood. "Leo—"
"Get him out of here, Don. We'll cover your retreat."
Leo's voice was commanding, leaving no room for argument. And while Don didn't like the idea of moving Mikey on his own –or at all, for that matter— he knew how crucial the next ten minutes were to keeping his brother alive.
Leo was right. Time to move.
He placed Mikey's hand in the proper position over the wound. "Keep pressure here." The younger did as instructed without complaint, while Don took his brother's arm and pulled it over his shoulder, shoving aside the worry that lanced down his spine as Mikey groaned in pain, clutching his side. "Hold on, Mikey. You'll be OK."
"I know, D. I'm sure you'll fix me up… all nice and pretty."
Mikey's smile, reassuring despite the pain, was a welcome support to keep Don's fear at bay. He'd dealt with wounds like this before. Mikey would be OK. Don could fix this.
Several days of touch and go had rattled the entire Hamato family. As they all sat gathered around the youngest turtle, sleeping after days of worry and keeping watch, Don awoke to find Mikey squeezing his hand and fluttering his eyes open. "Welcome back." The tall turtle whispered, relief sweeping through and finally allowing him to breathe normal for the first time in days.
Mikey looked around groggily, bringing a hand to his side and feeling the bandages.
"It was pretty deep. Raph and Leo both had to donate some blood." Don explained. "It may take a while to heal, but you'll be alright. That is, assuming you can sit still for a few weeks." The light smile that crossed Mikey's lips brought endless comfort to Don's stressed features.
A small cough had Don heading to get some water. Before he left, he heard his brother's ragged voice whisper, "Thanks D. You're the best."
75 years old
Donatello sat in the grass, enjoying it's cool touch as he bathed in the morning light. He'd dreamed of his brothers last night. Memories of the battles they'd fought danced before his eyes as he'd watched in awe at how they'd overcome them all. It was crazy to think they'd managed to survive long enough to grow old. Between the alien invasions, the gang fights, and the wars, it never ceased to amaze Don how many times they'd avoided tragedy.
They were certainly lucky.
Mikey liked to say it wasn't luck that got them through, but "Doctor Don" and his "wizardly powers of medicine". Not a notion Don liked to entertain too seriously, lest he fall prey to his own arrogance, but hearing it from his baby brother was always a nice affirmation.
Don smiled as he thought of his younger sibling.
Mikey always believed in him. Ever since they were tots and he stuck that first Batman Band-Aid on his finger, Mikey believed Don could work miracles. It didn't matter the injury, the young turtle would always look at his brother with confidence and trust that gave Don the courage to do what needed to be done, no matter how terrified he was of doing it.
Mikey never knew how much his faith in Don's skill meant to the genius. Never knew how many times his trust was the only thing keeping Don from walking away and saying he couldn't do it. Never knew that every time Don saved one of their lives, Mikey had a part in it.
Michelangelo kept them together all these years. He may never have felt like a crucial member of the team, always assuming he was the goof or the jokester and wasn't necessary in battle, but the older three knew the truth: without Mikey, there was no team.
A strong wind began to blow, sending a chill down Don's old bones. Leo would be finishing his morning walk soon, which meant they'd need to make some breakfast before Raph woke up. No rest for the weary.
Standing on shaky legs, Don took one more moment to enjoy the sun on his face.
As warm as his baby brother's smile.
"Thanks Mikey." He placed his hand on the cold stone before him, tracing his brother's name with his finger, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "You're the best."
If anyone is inspired to write to fill in the gaps and vague references, you are more than welcome. I would love to read what you come up with.
End of Line
-TRAaP
