My (Once) Flawless Hero
Disclaimer – Don't own them, never will. Thanks to Eldar for the primary beta and Muse for checking out the tenses, go read their works they rock!
Age – 18/9
There was a time when Mikey believed in certain archetypes; the hero was always dashing and true, and the villain was dastardly and easily recognizable by the way he cocked his brow and had one of those truly terrifying laughs that, no matter what, sounded comical. Naturally, it was designed to chill the marrow of the enemies' bones but when the hero always came out the victor the laugh couldn't really do a thing; except waste air and time. Those were the archetypes that Michelangelo believed in. The Shredder was the villain in this real life comic book and they were the good guys. Raphael was a hero and put him with Leo and, well you knew that the villain didn't have a chance.
When they strode bravely into battle the opposition quivered in their boots before putting up a reasonable fight, but they always lost because the villain always does. In the comics, comics that at times mirrored their real life, the heroes went through trying periods but they always reunited and came back together once again. No matter what rocked the foundations, the hero always came through what ailed him fighting fit. It was written word; it was truth.
But it wasn't life.
Mikey remembered the day when that changed, the day his perfectly crafted world with heroes and villains came crashing down. It started with Raphael, or was it Leo? When he told the story he couldn't quite discern who lost their eyes first. In the distant past of his memory Mikey was pretty certain that it started with Raph …
Raphael had been running interference; the first one in tearing apart the enemy like it was nothing. Then it was a robot, it took a hold of him and drove one sharp talon into his eye. That had been off putting to Mikey, but it hadn't been the end. Just like a hero in a swashbuckling film, in came Leo.
His eldest brother sliced through the robots with ease before reaching the point where Raphael fell to the ground with a thud. Like any hero, Raphael knew how to fight; he had twisted and pulled against that vice like grip before slicing through the electronics. With a crackle of electricity the arm had come off with the hero. Landing on the floor, he had pulled it free from his face and thrown it away like it was no problem at all, so by the time that Leonardo arrived to save him, he was already free. Like any good hero.
Then Raph had gone the wrong way and things changed for good. The villain saw Raphael's confusion as he tried to fight through the pain and the blood and ordered another strike. But Leonardo would not allow that. No because just as Raph was Mikey's hero, Leo was Raphael's. He fought for his brother, determined to bring him home. They would retreat this day and give the villainous Shredder one small victory. That was going to be okay, that was going to be acceptable.
But as an avid reader and former believer in archetypes Mikey could tell you that villains do not play fair, especially ones like the Shredder. Getting Raphael free from battle was chaotic but achievable. Mikey remembered seeing Leonardo safely deliver Raph to Donatello's care before turning to hold back the final throng of robots. And, like any hero he fought well, he fought with nobility and strength. He severed the arms from a robot before it could grab him and made only one small mistake. Leonardo looked back to ensure that his family was safe. When he returned to the fray, the hero could do nothing to avoid the missile that launched him into the air. Flying through the air he landed face first on the ground so loudly there was a crunching sound.
In the comics the heroes were allowed to make mistakes.
Raphael, Mikey's hero, turned and watched as his brother's head bounced up off the tarmac once. He screamed something loudly that heroes should never say, for a hero never swears before trying to make his way to his fallen idol.
It is here we pick up this tale, for it is here that Mikey remembers his childhood dreams starting to shred. Their brother, the hero of Mikey's hero did not move. He was unconscious; that was okay. His eyes were streaming with saltwater to remove the grit and gravel that marred his face, but that was fine too. It was to be expected.
"Road rash." That was what Mikey had cheerily called it, pleased to find a healthy pulse and steady heart beat. Their big brother, his hero's hero, was going to be okay. Blood coated his teeth, but that was from a split lip, which again was fine. These injuries were superficial; they would heal and they would fight the villain again. Next time, they might return the favor.
It did not occur to the young Michelangelo to check the eyes of his brother. He cleared the airway, ensured the neck was intact, and applied additional water to each ball in order to wash away the dirt. No, Mikey had a hero to worship and worry over, and Leonardo responded to all the gentle pokes and prods. It is with a fond smile (that has seen better days) which Mikey tells others that at one point he attempted to rouse himself. Which would never do: heroes, if they are to truly be heroes, need to rest, so he gently administered a mild sedative to his brother so that he may journey home in a state of peace.
Everything was meant to be fine, because the good guys always won through in the end.
Raphael was a terrible patient and took up much of the training medic's time. Donatello did his best to placate the injured beast, but in the end, assistance was needed. Mikey came and soothed the frayed nerves of the raging beast with a well placed joke, before returning to change dressings and check on his victim.
Mikey had carefully applied salve to all of Leonardo's facial cuts, and he had stitched the split lip in a manner that he considered to be very good, for a first try. He had carefully wrapped his brother's wrist giving the sprain the maximum chance to heal, which meant he only had one thing left to do, and that was deal with the pads that rested over his eyes. They made it appear as though he had a near identical injury to that of Raphael, which would never do since Raphael had sadly lost one eye to the robot.
The swelling around one socket went down over the passage of two days, and his brother took soup and water through a straw. Leonardo commented dryly on the stitching in his lip, happy to encourage his youngest brother as best he could. Until eventually the moment arrived, the moment when his brother's eyes stopped watering and the swelling had gone down as much as it could.
It was this moment that Mikey would never forget since it was this moment when he saw his hero's disappointment and shock.
Leonardo blinked a few times when the padding was removed from his eyes. In a turn where the hero shows how humble he is, he makes light of things. It is at this point that Mikey sees the first of his mistakes, but understands why his brother's eyes watered so. The eyelids have been damaged by all of the dirt that was raked over them. They look flimsy and stretched a nervous smile is dismissed by a proud family. Truly this simple patch job has earned them some respect. A small error, it should heal, it is dismissed by a wave of Splinter's hand.
"Turn, turn the lights on, Mikey."
Now this is when things are considered rather odd. Mikey watched his brother move his head from side to side with a curious expression. His words are soft and he finally moves his hand up so that it very nearly touches his very own beak.
"They're already on."
Michelangelo hurries to his brother's side to discover a horrible truth. Though as magnificent as ever the pen light reveals the force of the impact. Retina has detached from ball on both sides. Letting the light drop from his hand a worried Mikey looks up for reassurance from the one person who has always given it.
His hero, Raphael.
"Are you sure?"
Leonardo sounds very confused; he should be angry, Raphael appears to be so for Mikey has broken his hero.
"Yes, My Son, we are sure."
"Oh."
Mikey was pretty sure that things couldn't get much worse, Leonardo's surprised expression lit up the room but he seems rather okay with the idea which must be a good thing. So why was it that everything got so awkwardly quiet afterwards? A chill ran down our young medic's spine freezing the marrow in his bones which meant only one thing.
Somewhere, far away a villain must be laughing … celebrating his victory over a once flawless hero.
Complete