SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

By TJ HECTOR

Summary: Mikey went to his brothers in sleepless nights. Three different nights, three different brothers, and the little brother that annoys his brothers to no end yet retains the spirit that none of his brothers possesses. Fluff and stuff. One-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

A/N: I'm not abandoning The Trial of the Lost. It's just that I'm too busy to write and a sleepless night was all I got.

1. The night when he couldn't sleep.

He felt helpless.

The evening had drifted along unusually, and left him with unspent energies. Leo and Raph fought as usual, though, and he tried to lighten up the mood by cracking a few bad jokes but none of them worked. When it was finally bedtime, he walked with heavy step toward his room.

He didn't go to bed immediately, on the contrary, he went to sit on the matt in the corner of his room where he kept all of his comic book collections. His eyes ran through pages absentmindedly, until he realized how late it was.

But sleep didn't come to him.

O-O-O

The door of his room cracked—a familiar sound. The grayish yellow light from the corridor streamed in through the entrance.

He blinked in the warmness of his bed. Who's there? And then he sighed. Who else could it be?

"Michelangelo?" he called out, voice slurred with slumber.

Mikey came in with soft footsteps. He sighed as he felt the edge of his bed sank suddenly.

"Can't sleep?" he guessed, of course he was right. It had almost become a ritual. After an evening like that, Mikey was certainly an expected guest in his room, at, what, 3 a.m..

"Yeah." Mikey uttered quietly.

He sighed again. "You can stay here if you want, but I'm going to sleep. And don't forget the training in the morning."

"You know I'll oversleep."

He sighed. "Of course, Mikey. What am I thinking?" He smiled wryly; thankfully Mikey couldn't see him. Deep down inside he knew for sure why Mikey had come to him, but he was too tired to think—or too stubborn to admit.

"Hey, big bro?"

"…What is it Mike?"

"I hate it."

Sigh. "I know."

"No matter how often you do it, I just can't get used to it."

"Don't get used to it, Mikey."

"But…it was hard." Hard to get used to it, or hard not to get used to it? "You know I hate to see you two like that. Donnie hates it, too. He's locked himself in his lab."

"Maybe you can join him and help him on his researches?" Too tired, too tired already.

"I'll ruin his work."

Yeah, Donnie wouldn't say that, but everyone knew that if Mikey got into the lab, the results Donnie was probably hoping to see was going to be delayed.

Alright. He sighed once more, rising slowly from his pillow. He sat with both his hands staying on the bed sheet, and cleared his throat.

"Mikey."

"Hmmm?"

He reached out one hand.

"I'm sorry." His hand rested on the shoulder of his little brother. "Never get used to it okay? Raph and I just got…don't know what it is," he paused to laugh quietly, "I don't like it either. And I want to change this. Maybe you won't believe it, but every time we fight, it feels horrible."

A brief silence, and then, "I believe it." So readied to believe everything from his elder brothers. So sure. He closed his eyes, imagining the look on Mikey's face right now.

"Thanks." He patted on Mike's arm, turning back to his pillow.

Leonardo felt the bed sank down deeper as Mikey found a spot next to him. He sighed one more time and lent an edge of his blanket to his brother.

2. Need more coffee.

2:27 a. m..

"Hey Mikey." He said without glancing away from his laptop screen. "If you're going to stick around, why don't you give me a hand?"

"Do what?" Mikey beamed.

"Could you organize my…well, never mind."

"What?" Mikey came to his side, he could sense Mikey's big, goofy smile right above of his shoulder.

He turned to face Mike.

"Why aren't you ever tired?" he demanded while it was more like a pleading.

"Of course I get tired!" Mikey smiled, showing his bright teeth, "Just not tonight. I told ya I slept the whole afternoon."

Good. He thought inwardly. Never let Mikey have afternoon naps. Not anymore.

"So," Mikey's husky, cheery (under this circumstance, creepy was more likely) voice rang beside his ear again, "what can I do for you, my dear sir?"

"Go make me a cup of coffee." He rubbed his face and sighed.

"Immediately." Footsteps ran out of the room. He shrugged and smiled as he heard Mikey bumped into furniture all the way to the kitchen. Should've turn on the light, Mikey.

He yawned and went back to the screen.

O-O-O

6:03 a. m..

He blinked, and blinked, rubbing his eyes.

Oh, shell.

He fell asleep again.

I was supposed to finish it before dawn, so in the morning I can run some tests on our old security system and make a comparison…

He blinked again as he saw something on his bed—not a new heap of books or files, which was already a constant occupant.

Mikey was there, snoring; several wasted paper with doodles on them lied on the floor beside the bed—the evidence of his idleness.

And there it was—a cup of coffee, already cold, on his desk.

"Thanks, Mikey." Donatello took a sip, and fixed his eyes on his laptop screen again.

3. Nightmare.

Mikey always comes to him.

"How many times do I have ta tell ya this hammock can't sustain two shells?" He mumbled with his face buried in the pillow.

"A hundred times?" Mikey's guilty voice through a small smile.

"Whatever." He kept his back to Mike.

"Don't ignore me, Raphie-boy."

"…Wait? What was that sound? Thought I heard somebody speakin'…nah, just wind hissin'…"

"Hey, not funny! Raphie-boy."

"Stop callin' me that or I'm gonna make ya regret comin' inta this room."

"Sure, no problem."

He closed his eyes. A momentary peace.

"Are you asleep?" Mikey was goddamned poking him.

"Yes."

"Alright! Sorry to wake ya up."

"The right way ta apologize should be getting' your green ass outta my bed, Mikey."

"That option was crossed out."

"Why an' why 'm I even bothered ta ask?"

Mikey punched his shell softly.

"I had that dream again." The younger turtle muttered.

He rolled over, finding Mikey staring at him with his light blue eyes, the eyes he could never said 'no' to.

"Was it the same?"

"Yeah, ...but no. The ending was different."

"'Right. Tell me 'bout it."

Mikey looked down at the blanket. "…He took you all, and left me."

He sighed.

"It was just a silly dream, Mikey. A …a nightmare." He yawned.

"What if it was a …vision or something?" Mikey asked; a small tremor tainted his soft voice.

"If it's a vision, you should've be a goddamned prophet by now."

Mikey almost jumped. "I'm serious!"

"I'm tryin' ta be serious too, but it was 4 a. m. in the mornin' Mike. Why don't cha get some sleep? If I don' get up at seven Fearless' gonna whip my ass."

"I want to sleep but I can't!"

"Well," he sighed. "I know just the right thing ta do. Here, I'll lend ya this arm an' y' 'll talk ta it. I'm goin' ta sleep. 'Night." He flung his left arm over Mikey and ignored the angry protest.

He smiled with his eyes closed.

"Can ya sleep now? Gimme a break." Raphael pulled his brother close to him and saw the look in Mikey's eyes. Big blue eyes. Nice eyes, purer than all of his brothers.

Michelangelo leaned on Raphael's shoulder and the two brothers were fast asleep.

-The End.

A/N: It was 5 a. m. already but I still couldn't sleep so I wrote this. Hope you enjoyed it. Leave a comment if you find something that echoes to you. Tell me about it. Gosh am I tired. :)