Hello everybody! Thank you so much to everyone who read Texts From Home. You guys are awesome!
This is a story that I thought of while visiting my aunt in the hospital. I hope someone enjoys. Please READ and REVIEW.
Disclaimer: The turtles are not mine.
It's quiet. It's so quiet. Michelangelo stirs and painfully turns onto his side, wincing at the sharp stab of pain that cuts through his abdomen. The pain is going down with every passing day, he realizes, but with every bit of it that goes away, he's finding it harder and harder to breathe.
Donatello's sitting by the bed, his head lolling to the side in a sight slumber. Even in sleep, he looks so tired, so weighed down by everything that's happening. Apart from his and Mikey's breathing, there's no sound, no indication of life.
It's so quiet.
Mikey wants to say something, tell Donny anything; he's not quite sure what yet, but he really wants to. But this is the first time he's seen his brother at least somewhat relaxed in what seems like ages, so he settles with watching him, memorizing the almost peaceful features of his tired face. Lying there, watching him, he goes over what he might say when Don wakes up.
'Morning Donny! You should really sleep lying down. It's not good for your neck when you sleep sitting up like that.
He sighs and closes his eyes, trying to find the peace and rest that comes with dreams. But tonight – or this morning, he thinks – there is no rest for him. No dreams take his mind from the pain that seems to constantly flow through him, and there is definitely no peace.
Quiet, yes; but no peace.
He misses when things around the lair were loud. He'd find more rest and comfort amidst all the chaos than he does here in his bed; this strangling silence.
He gasps when another shock of pain shoots through him, causing his body to jolt and shudder with the effort of trying to deep quiet. He doesn't want to wake up Donny.
He wants to talk, though; wants to tell Don to go to sleep the right way, but he knows his brother won't go to sleep again as long as he knows that Mikey is awake, so he keeps his thoughts and comments to himself and tries to stay as quiet as possible. It's proving to be slightly difficult, but he'll manage. It's the first time he's seen his brother actually resting in so long, disturbing the moment seems cruel.
Even if he does hate the silence.
"How you feeling?"
He turns his head slightly to the sound of the voice, but it's coming from behind him and he feels just a little bit too weak to roll over completely. He doesn't have to see the speaker to know it's Leonardo.
"I'm fine." He tries to sound strong, but the words come out rough, almost like the croak of a frog. That, and the fact that he's lying are enough to make his older brother give a humorless snort.
"Oh yeah. And Raph's favorite color is pink."
"You never know, Leo. It could be, but he's just keeping it a secret."
That humorless snort again. "Just like how you're actually ok. You're just acting sick, shivering and shaking from imaginary pain. Is that it?"
He forces himself to laugh. "That's it, bro. You got me there." He wants Leo to keep talking. Even with the heavy sarcasm, his words are so much better – a lullaby, almost – compared to the strangling silence of almost a minute ago. Mikey would much rather fall asleep to this.
"G'morning, Mikey." Donny's voice interrupts the somewhat conversation, causing both brothers to look in his direction. He's stretching, popping the joints in his neck and shoulders. When he's done he looks back at his orange-clad brother. "How're you feeling?"
Mikey attempts a shrug but immediately decides that it's too hard to do so while lying down. "I'm feeling ok." He grins. "I'm hungry." Donny laughs, but before he can say anything Raphael speaks up.
"You go get his food, Don; stretch your legs. I'll watch Mikey." Donny smiles gratefully and nods before standing stiffly and walking out of the room towards the kitchen. Leo moves forward and sits in the chair by the bed that his purple-banded brother just left behind. Silence takes its place once again in the room, its presence heavy and stifling. Mikey wants to say something, anything to get rid of it; his unwanted, dark and heavy guest that's been his companion for the past week and a half. He searches for the right words, arranges them carefully in his mind, makes sure they make sense and lighten the mood. He's not usually one to be thinking so carefully about what he says, but lately he's found that even the simplest things take most of his energy away in a short amount of time, so now he chooses his words and actions carefully; turning them over in his mind and experimenting before he lets them out into the world.
Leo beats him to it though.
"So really Mikey, how are you feeling?" The words almost make the younger turtle jump out of his shell, it's that quiet. He looks at his brother for the first time since he's sat down. He looks tired, too; almost as bad as Donny. Mikey feels a shadow of guilt for being the reason behind all of his brothers' worry and exhaustion, but he knows that if it was one of them that was sick, he'd be doing as much as he could to help, too. The thought gives him some comfort.
"The pain's going down," he finally says. He doesn't mention the part about not being able to breathe. 'I'll tell them later.'
For now though, Leo's looking at him carefully, obviously questioning whether or not his little brother's words are worthy of belief. "It really is!" Mikey says, louder than before. He almost believes that the less quiet it is, the better he'll get. It's a strange thought, he knows; but it's a ray of hope that he's willing to hold on to in his bedridden state. That, and his brothers seem to believe him more when they know he's still able to yell.
So he talks.
"You know, last night I was lying here thinking about some stuff when I realized, 'Whoa! I missed over a week of training!' and then I was like 'Leo's gonna kill me.' Then I realized that if anyone was going to kill me it'd actually be Donny because he's the one I always spar against, so he'll kick my shell and I'll just end up in bed all over again!
"You know what, Leo? This whole week I've been in bed – Hey Don! – I've been in bed and I haven't had a single pizza. Dude, that's got to be a record! Not that my record was very long before, but… Yeah.
"Aw, Don; more soup? If I eat any more I might just turn into it!" Mikey makes a face and stares at the bowl that's placed in front of him before looking up imploringly at his purple-banded brother.
Leo laughs softly. "Aw come on Mikey. That smells really good. It won't hurt anybody if you have just a little more."
Don adds, "Yeah, Mike. You'll be getting better in no time. Besides, my cooking isn't that bad."
"No bro, that's not what I meant! It's just that –"
"You don't like the food I make for you." Now Donny's smirking, his eyes brightening momentarily at the joking mood that has come over the room.
"No! That's not… Aw come on, Don! You know that's not what I was trying to say!" Now both Donny and Leo are laughing, Mikey trying to hide his own small smile. "Fine, I'll eat it!"
His brothers laugh harder when he sighs and slowly slurps a spoonful into his mouth. "This is really good. Hey, Donny, what's this black stuff in it? Never mind, I don't want to know."
Leo and Don say nothing. They just watch as Mike gobbles his food and talks between mouthfuls. Finally, Leo cuts him off with a smirk. "You really must be feeling better. I haven't heard you talk this much all week."
Before the orange-banded turtle can respond, Don smiles and adds, "It's true. By the way, Mikey, that black stuff is –"
"Don't say it, Donny! I'm begging you not to say it. Last time I asked you what was in my food, you said the long noodle stuff was possum tail." Michelangelo makes a disgusted face at the memory.
Don's laugh echo's through the room now. "Aw, Mike," He stops laughing long enough to grin. "Possum tail will help you get better."
"Then I'd rather be sick!" Now Leo's laughter join's Donatello's, both brothers laughing until they're gasping for breath. Mikey was grateful for their being distracted. The talking and eating had taken most of his energy and he felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was under water. He forces himself to take deep breaths, trying to look normal so his brothers won't notice.
Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale… in – Shell, his lungs are burning!
By the time he catches his breath, his brothers are conversing easily amongst themselves. From listening to them he learns that Raph is in the garage with Casey and working on then shell cycle (They swear that there cannot possibly be anything else to work on after all the work that's already been done on it) and Master Splinter is in the kitchen making his morning tea. Here, in this peaceful (albeit loud) conversation, Mikey feels that he can actually fall asleep. His energy is gone, every breath still burns his lungs, and now he's got a headache; but he feels good. The loud laughter and voices fill his mind, taking over his senses like a calming lullaby.
The darkness is calling to him. It sounds inviting.
The sounds of the world are fading away, the darkness closing around his brothers' voices and gently floating them away from Michelangelo. He doesn't mind, though, because even though he can't hear them, he only needs to know one thing.
Here, in his room, there is no more silence.
END OF CHAPTER ONE