Well, here we are. The first chapter of five for this little project. As stated before, these will be reflections on Michelangelo done by his family.

Up first is dear Donatello's thoughts on the orange-clad turtle.

Anyway, read on. I hope you enjoy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Genius

"Genius is that energy which collects, combines, amplifies, and animates."

~ Samuel Johnson

It was common knowledge that he was a genius.

This thought lightly danced inside one turtle's mind as he watched his brothers in a rare moment of relaxation. Raphael and Michelangelo were wrestling on the floor, a long forgotten remote control lying no more than two feet away, while Leonardo and Master Splinter watched them both from the couch. The first had an exasperated, yet amused expression on his face, and the second had a soft smile. He really did enjoy these times, especially now that they were becoming scarce due to all their recent troubles. Speaking of which, he needed to do some maintenance on the lair's security system…

What had he been thinking of again?

"What the fu-shell, Mike!"

"Temper, Raphie. No need to get upset over my awesome skill."

"Skill? Ya ripped the move right off the guy on TV! Talk about unoriginal!"

Oh, right.

Everyone seemed to think him a genius…At least, that's what it felt like to him at times. Not a day could go by without him being reminded of this in some form, be it by a simple phone call from April just to engage in some miscellaneous techno-babble, or by being trusted to hack into some of the most advanced systems in the world in a matter of minutes as if it were nothing. He was smart. It was how things had been ever since he first became aware of himself. It was what he was best at.

However, he also knew that there were many different types of "genius," and sometimes, he couldn't help but feel like the world had chosen the wrong one to watch.

He embodied the intellectual genius. His knowledge in the scholarly remained unrivalled by all but a scant few, and his skill with technology was often something that left even his enemies, who had so much more to work with compared to him, in reluctant respect. He worked hard, constantly gathering any and all information he could, knowing that even the most obscure fact could be important in the future. It was useful, and dangerous, but he was all right with that.

It was the other kind of genius that scared him.

This train of thought did not strike him often, as he was almost always busy with something, but in those rare moments when he had nothing to do and was simply left alone to think, he would always feel his thoughts drift toward his younger brother.

He knew that Michelangelo was the last person who crossed anyone's mind when they thought of the word genius. His brother's carefree- borderline foolish, he had to admit- nature did little to set this image in the eyes of others. Which was probably why everyone who had fought against him seriously always seemed so surprised when they, inevitably, lost.

He had always known differently, though.

Michelangelo was the sort of genius that, had it been anyone else, would have utterly terrified him. His little brother may not be book smart, tech smart, or any sort of smart that came to mind when one thinks of the word, but his brand of genius was something else altogether…Something far more dangerous if you asked him.

He remembered that, for a while, a bit of an unspoken sore point between him, Leo, and Raph had been the fact that Mikey could goof off so much and still seem to keep up with them in their training sessions. All of them had to constantly work at what they'd learned to be able to execute them so well. Michelangelo didn't have that problem. He would learn how to do something, stop, slack off, then perform the same move the rest of them had been diligently practicing for the past week with a fluidity they hadn't quite reached yet. Raphael passed it off as his high athleticism, Leonardo was of the belief that he secretly trained when no one was there to see, but neither even seemed to consider that he might just have really grasped the concepts that easily. Sure, there would be a forgotten kata now and again, but for the most part, Michelangelo needed very little reminding on how to do something.

Then there was what happened after that initial absorption.

Michelangelo had the habit of altering moves he'd learned- wrestling moves in particular -and make them uniquely his own. Then he would take those altered moves and join them together with other altered moves- or even some normal ones -for a fighting style that even the best had trouble dealing with sometimes.

It wasn't just with the physical either.

Everyone knew that Michelangelo screwed up a lot with technology. He beat Leonardo by just a bit when it came to breaking them. What others failed to notice was that he never messed up the same way. As the repairman of the group, he was witness to this strange phenomenon. Lately, the things the youngest had brought in to fix were broken in such a way that he had to wonder whether or not his brother had broken them on purpose. Perhaps in an attempt to see how they worked…?

He shook his head with a smile. Now that was a little farfetched.

Not that Michelangelo couldn't figure them out if he really wanted to. He definitely had the mental capacity for it. It was just that that sort of thing didn't interest him. He was glad for it, in a way. If he were to apply himself and use that talent of his, then there was a good chance Michelangelo could very well become the best of them…but doing it would be at the expense of that bright spark only he seemed to possess.

He wasn't going to lie. Spending most of their lives in the sewers stunk in more ways than one. Michelangelo made it just a little more bearable for all of them, even if he did get on their nerves more often than not. So while a stronger, smarter little brother wouldn't be a terrible thing (he wouldn't worry so much about him doing something stupid, at any rate), he much preferred how things were now.

"Hello~! Earth to Donnie! You in there?"

"Huh?"

Mikey laughed.

"I've been calling you for like, five minutes, dude."

"Oh. Sorry, Mikey."

He looked around, surprised to find the living room empty.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Let's see…Raphie's blowin' off some steam topside since he couldn't seem to beat me, Leo went after him, Master Splinter went to his room, I'm not really sure where you were this whole time, but you're here now and I am too!"

He shook his head at the last part while Mikey grinned.

"Anyway, you wanna come with me and grab some pizzas for dinner?"

"Isn't it a little…early for dinner?"

"Not by the time we get back. You've been wanting to go look for some parts for a while now, haven't you? Let's go there first."

"What brought this on?"

Mikey shrugged.

"Feel like it."

It was tempting. Very tempting…

"I really should check up on the security-"

"Come on, Donnie! You'll turn into an albino turtle at this rate-!"

Did those even exist? He'd have to look into that…

"And no researching albino turtles until after we get back! You need some good old New York quality air."

He couldn't quite stop the snort here.

"What's 'quality' about it?"

This only seemed to make his brother's grin widen.

"Can't be worse than down here."

"…True."

"Besides, you check up on security so much even Leo has trouble getting passed it. The lair'll be fine alone for a few hours."

"Well…"

"Great! Let's go!"

He was already being dragged toward the door.

"Be back later, Master Splinter!" Mikey called out. "We'll bring pizzas!"

Mikey waited just long enough for a response before continuing on. Resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be working on anything else today, he decided to just go along.

"…Leo has trouble getting passed my security?"

Even if it wasn't directed at him, Michelangelo's cackles always made him wary.

"Did I ever tell you about the time he…"

As the ramble continued, he smiled. Things were definitely better with a cheerful, goofy Mikey. Still, his genius was a scary thing. It was a good thing he wasn't the ambitious kind…

He shuddered to think what someone like the Shredder would do with that sort of talent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Now for a few closing words.

I'm sure some of you might disagree on what I wrote. However, I find there to be quite a bit of evidence that supports Mikey being a genius in his own right. Not one like Donnie, obviously, but one of a different sort.

How else would he be able to keep up with his brothers like he seems to do if he always slacks off so much?

I did take a few liberties, granted, but this is a fan fiction. I consider it very mild a change, seeing as other TMNT fics I've read make the turtles abuse one another or something like that. I mean, really? They're the only ones of their kind. A group like that is bound to be close, not abusive.

That being said, I did feel the ending was a bit lackluster. I suppose it's because the first half of this was written while I was actually watching the show, so their personalities and such were fresh in my mind. I should probably go back and re-watch it for the next chapters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you thought. Take care!

Next Chapter: Strength