I hope you like this one shot. It popped into my head today and I had to write it. I don't know if I'll make a story based on it or not. I hope it doesn't seem too OC.
Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.
Cool water droplets fall from the sky, the clouds hidden by the dark of the night. The rain breaths a cool sensation on my tense body and help loosen the false happiness that clings to me and choke me of emotion day after day. As everything that I've been suppressing lets loose I feel my eyes fill with tears. Everything I've been bottling up the last two weeks comes out in turrents as the rain pours harder but I can't tell which droplets are tears and which are just rain.
Thinking of the irony of this situation I let out a small snort of bitter laughter.
Who'd have thought the bubbly Michelangelo Hamato would be balling his eyes out on a lonesome rooftop in the pouring rain?
I wonder if they ever see how fake my smiles are sometimes.
Hugging my arms close to myself comfortingly I look over the street. Dim street lights brighten the sidewalk an I can see a river of water trickling down to the street drain. All the water gives everything a shiney look and I dimly wonder how much of that silvery water is mingled with my tears.
Sensei used to say that when it rained the heavens were crying. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had to get somthing out of their system tonight. Maybe those who looked down upon us weren't feeling so great either.
Why does everyone assume I'm happy all the time?
Every day it's the same question, "How are you Mikey?" And every day I give the same automated answer with one of those crooked smiles. "Oh I'm great!"
Sometimes I wish they wouldn't take that for an answer.
There are times"great" is not how I feel. Can't they see it in my face? They have to expect me to have more than one emotion. Right?
Of course they don't act like it. They throw side comments my way thinking I won't hear them, thinking it doesn't hurt me.
It does.
Every single word feels like a heavy weight crushing me even more. And I can't cry, I can't fight, I can't scream in frustration because that isn't how Mikey acts.
When I do get offensive and get mad at them for saying things they act like they don't know what's wrong. They act like calling me names is normal, that it shouldn't affect me at all.
Still I keep that smile straight on my face and never let it waver. Because, what would I be without it? Just some hollow shell of a person with nothing to live for.
I can't let them see my tears, see my pain. If I'm sad I can't show it. If I do then how are my brothers suppose to be happy?
I wonder if Leo knows how much I'm like him.
I know how he feels. We might be worlds apart but there is a part of us that is exactly the same.
We can't show how we really feel inside.
Leo's the only one who's seen me cry like this. He's the only one who's seen me drown myself in pain and dispair. I didn't even mean for it to happen.
It had been a rough week for me and finally I had to let it out. The thing was, the tears didn't hit me until it was late in the night. I just laid there for hours until finally, I started sobbing. I tried to be quiet, I really did, but Leo always knows when something's wrong.
He entered my room quietly and I hadn't even realized he was there until he spoke.
"What's wrong Mikey?" He had asked softly.
Of course I couldn't answer him.
Leo seemed to accept that too. When I didn't give him an answer he merely pulled me up to a sitting position and wrapped his arms around me. He shushed me comfortingly and hummed as I clung to him sobbing. When it was done and I laid back down, exhausted, he pulled my covers over me and silently left the room. The next morning things were back to normal.
We never talked about that night.
I wish we did.
Ever since then I've never let myself cry at home again. I always leave, late in the night, when the others were asleep. I had a suspion that the only person who knew about my late night walks was Master Splinter, though he never said anything.
No one ever said anything to me when I was sad. They would walk on egg shells and tried to act like everything was fine when I wish they would just talk to me.
As the rain turns to a light drizzle, I stand stiffly on the roof and looked down at the street below. I need to get home. My hour to myself is almost up.
One hour a week is all that I allow myself to have. I have one hour to be selfish with my emotions before I go back to being my brothers' energetic, happy brother.
I quickly leave and renter the sewer system. As I climb down the ladder I try to pull myself together.
I need to pick up the pieces and put my jummbled puzzle of emotions together again.
I just wish they would actually ask me what's wrong though. Instead of letting their question slip by and my answer go unnoticed. I wish they would dig a little deeper, push me for an explanation. In stead of excepting "I'm fine." for an answer.
As I approach the lair's enterence, I wipe the rest of the tears from my face. The fake smile I put back on for the world to see. My brothers won't see me break.
Not yet.
I need to be strong for them.
I need to hold on just a little longer.
Just a little longer…