I really need you
I really need your love right now
I'm fading fast
Not gonna last
I'm really stupid
I'm burning up, I'm going down
I'll win it back
Don't even ask
When I find myself in the middle, in the middle, in the middle
Could you love me more, just a little, just a little?
Over-complicate when it's simple, when it's simple, when it's simple
Would you love me more, just a little?
So tell me now
When every star falls from the sky
And every last heart in the world breaks
Oh hold me now
When every ship is going down
I don't fear nothing when I hear you say
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
I'm really sorry
Sorry I dragged you into this
I overthink
That's all it is
The way you love me
The way you love me 'til the end
The way you love me
Oh yeah, it makes me king again
When I find myself in the middle, in the middle, in the middle
Could you love me more, just a little, just a little?
Over-complicate when it's simple, when it's simple, when it's simple
Would you love me more, just a little?
So tell me now
When every star falls from the sky
And every last heart in the world breaks
Oh hold me now
When every ship is going down
I don't fear nothing when I hear you say
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
It's gonna be OK
When every star falls from the sky
And every last heart in the world breaks
It's gonna be OK
When every ship is going down
I don't fear nothing when I hear you say
It's gonna be OK
-Robin Schulz and James Blunt, "OK"
It was so quiet. Raphael had decided that he hated quiet.
Donatello adjusted the lights for the dozenth(?) time. Leonardo wrung out the cool washcloth again. Raph shut his eyes and listened to familiar sounds that had been going on for four and a half weeks. His chin, resting in his hand while his elbow was on the bed, began to drop.
"Raph, go to bed," Leo said in That Voice. "It's my watch anyway. And Donnie, stop fidgeting like that, it's not like he can see the lights."
Donnie worked his tongue around his diastema. "If he wakes up and it's too bright-"
"We'll dim them." Leo was so firm and stony, and Raph wondered if a month of this had changed him.
Well, back when it was Leo in a bathtub, we all changed. But then, we were in hiding and busy and trying to rebuild. This was just a battle.
Well, it was a big battle. They had been fighting for their lives, for the city. And the one force that had saved them all was lying covered in hydrogel bandages and regular gauze on the bed, with tubes and wires attached, being hydrated by cool washcloths, because putting an injured, sparking electrokinetic in a tub of water was a horrible idea. Leo insisted on having that task specifically. Raph wondered how much he remembered from his own ordeal.
He looked over Mikey and wondered what sort of scars the electric burns might leave, if any. Casey had given him a hurried, nervous lesson on burn treatment after the battle, during the frenzied aftermath in the Mutanimals' warehouse home, but Raph could barely recall it. Casey had been jittery at first when Mikey had flamboyantly shown off his new power, hiding behind Raph and sometimes April.
And then the Drainer aliens had come back, with monsters, and Casey had begged Mikey to charge up a pair of gauntlets for him to fight with.
Something Utrom Bishop had said, about conducting electricity, blah blah, something about visible wounds and invisible wounds…internal damage…again, the explanation was fading in his memory, being overwritten by the memory of a charged-up Mikey in ferocious battle with a bizarre alien monster bigger than Leatherhead and wielding massive claws. Claws that had slashed and torn and ripped, and then there was some sort of burst of light, and the creature was dead, smoking and charred, and Michelangelo was…
He was…
Raph tightened every muscle in his body as he squeezed the limp, bandaged hand. A hand on his shoulder made him look up: Donnie smiled soberly, as if knowing his thoughts.
Hell, maybe he did. This…this thing with Mikey, this spiritual stuff he and Leo had been working on, it was winding its way through all four of them. Raph found himself feeling Mikey's emotions when they were intense enough. It calmed him. He found himself seeking it out, hoping to find Mikey in one of his wild-zen, happy states while playing video games or making a pizza. Mikey had this gentle, naturally meditative flow, an optimistic force of nature that carefully rolled like mist, a blend of blithely happy and realistic vibes. Negative energies were used as strength, positive energies were used for speed.
In arguments with Leo, Raph found himself blasted with a sensation of infuriating tranquility, and he would find himself thinking Damn Splinter Junior, so calm and cool and all Look at me, I'm gonna be a freakin master and Leo would narrow his eyes and tilt his head, and the air would crackle with an actual feeling of What did you say? But the force of Leo's organic tranquility was enough to bring Raph to a different level.
And Donnie…in the lab, Raph would feel an impending excitement flowing from Donnie, this weird anticipatory rush whenever he invented something or created something. The energy was not quite adrenaline, something much more mental and indescribable. Donnie seemed to always feel this way in the lab about his work, and Raph wondered if it was stress management. But it perked Raph up and made him feel crafty and creative.
So now, looking into his brother's mahogany eyes, he took a deep breath and held that sickening image of their baby brother covered in burns and open wounds, running to him, the only thing telling them he was alive was Leo screaming "Keep breathing, Mikey we're coming!" because Leo somehow knew, he felt it.
And Mikey's eyes were open, he was conscious, and Raphael couldn't think of anything more terrifying. He was staring at them with a desperate, pleading expression. And then he spoke, his voice hoarse and raw and sore and thin, and his lips cracked and blood seeped down his face, pooling into the slash marks on his cheeks.
"Is…is it over? D-did we w-win?"
There was dead silence. Donnie cleared his throat. "Yeah, Mikey. It's over, Little Brother. You won. You saved the world. All by yourself. Again."
Mikey's smile caused skin around the corners of his mouth to flake away. "April," he whispered. They all turned, and April was hovering in her telekinetic bubble and she looked so angry, her eyes white and wide, her hair standing on end, her mouth in a snarl. She was speaking but they couldn't hear. And the aliens – the nonsolid light beings in the sky and the solid large beings on the ground – seemed to shrink back in pure fear. Casey was running to the group, looking freaked out.
"Guys, do you hear that? It's Mikey and April talking! How'd they do thaaa oh my god." And he skidded to a complete halt and swallowed.
"Fuck," he murmured, and Mikey's too-bright azure eyes, still blazing with electric current, turned on him. "That bad, eh?"
Casey had set down his giant duffel bag, which he had taken to carrying everywhere after that incident with Tatsu, and pulled out a small first aid kit with what looked like half an urgent care clinic's cabinet. He began looking in the bag again. He was muttering as he went – "Okay, gauze, needle n' thread, antibiotic ointments, antibiotic pills, rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, aloe vera, more gauze, more ointment, wait what's this pack of cards doing in here? Oh, right, for when I'm bored…hmm, ah, the other first aid kit, survival blanket, mini umbrella…"
"Um, Casey?" Donnie said, kneeling at Mikey's left side.
"…aww, the Band-Aids have kittens on them, that's neat, why is there a stress ball in here, oh right, there's more rubbing alcohol, wait, is that itch cream or burn cream, what is it Donnie?"
"Do I want to know where you got all this and why you carry it around?"
Casey glanced up with a sharp smirk. "I'm friends with you idiots."
"…right."
"Plus, the hockey team gets our personal little urgent care nook for bruises and injuries and shit. They'd rather the stuff get used than not. I don't even ask anymore, I just go in and take what I want."
The turtles all gave him flat looks, but he merely smiled again, warmly.
Mikey coughed, sounding like sandpaper, and Casey rushed to Don's side and shoved things in his too-large hands. Donatello's eyes turned cold and he snapped into scientist mode, placing things on the ground, tearing wrappings off. Raphael, blinking, turned away when aliens around them began disappearing into the vortex in the sky. April was still up there, and he could finally hear her, her voice booming and overlaid with Mikey's voice.
"You hurt us. It hurts, dudes. Okay? You suck. We tried to help you and you come back and attack us outright because we didn't let you have enough power? How much power is enough for you? You'll never be able to drain even half this planet before you overload yourselves and die, and we should know. If you even dare come near this planet, this solar system, this dimension, again, we won't even give you a damn warning, we will just blast you to little bits as a fucking warning. Get the fuck away from here and don't you fucking dare come back. GET. OUT."
And it was like a hundred lights blinking out, it was like small tornadoes made of pure energy, sucking up into a hole that started as a jagged scar in the sky. Raph stood there, jaw on the ground, until April's body went limp and fell, and he rushed to catch her. She was unconscious, and her skin was flushed, and he quickly realized it was like sunburn. She'd been burned. Her whole face, her hands, her neck, everything was red. He held her tightly, the sheer heat soaking into his hands, his arms, his plastron. It wasn't a good heat, it wasn't a basking heat. He suddenly realized that her ninja uniform, its blackness, must be cooking her, and he found himself starting to unzip her before he realized.
A large, clawed, scaly hand touched his shoulder and he growled.
"Raphael," a voice said.
His entire body relaxed as if commanded. He looked up. "Mona!"
Y'Gythgba smiled. The entire Mutanimals team was with her. "I'll help her," Mona Lisa said, taking April from his arms. Mondo Gecko had a backpack and from it he produced what looked like a yellow bedsheet. As quickly as Mona undressed April, they covered her; she moaned lightly and snuggled into the sheet.
"We will go to our warehouse," Slash said, "we have an entire stocked infirmary and it'll be quicker to treat April and Michelangelo before we move Mikey to your lair. We saw everything." His voice was soft, and when he looked at Raph, his eyes were wet. Raph bit his lip and nodded. "Thanks, Slash."
He slowly looked to Leatherhead, who had been very quietly growling, huge fists clenched. He was staring ahead at Mikey, who was being cleaned and prepared, gauze quickly soaking up blood. Casey had unwrapped his hand and foot pads and and bandages His hands and feet looked charred. Casey let out a loud curse and very carefully wrapped them in gauze. Mikey's skin looked too dry and it was losing color and he was still conscious. He was starting to shake, his whole body caught in helpless tremors, sobbing whines coming from a parched throat. Leo had lifted his head and shoulders into his lap and was whispering, stroking his head. Don began yelling something and he sounded desperate and frightened.
Breathing heavily, Raph took a step toward Leatherhead, because those eyes had gone white. But the crocodile was very still, even trembling. "Can I…can I carry him?"
And Raph felt his heart start to crack. Oh god, Leatherhead. Mikey really was his best friend, for a while his only friend.
As they approached, Leonardo looked up. "Slash! Hey, guys! Um, is April okay?"
Slash and Mona explained, and Raph relayed what April/Mikey had told the aliens. When Donnie nodded at Casey and stepped away, Leatherhead very, very carefully slid his hands under Mikey, lifting him like an infant. Mikey whimpered, eyelids fluttering. He whispered, "Hey, Big Guy."
"Hush, my friend. We will care for you."
"I know." Mikey dragged in a shallow breath. "You guys are…awesome."
He went completely limp, eyes rolling back and closed. His head lolled against Leatherhead's paw and his entire body spasmed. Leatherhead snarled in what sounded like pain, then turned and began to run. Raph grit his teeth and broke into a run almost as fast. They didn't stop running until they reached the Mutanimals' lair.
Raph shook away the memory. Donnie was staring at him, eyes wide. There were tears. Raph frowned at him. Did we just share a memory?
And Donnie nodded.
Raphael suddenly had a headache.
This crap was getting so complicated.
April had slowly, over time, and successfully broken her father down to where he was okay with her going out and Being A Hero, but only because she had her powers and only because each Turtle had sworn an oath to watch her back. Mikey in particular had said it so solemnly, with such utter care, that she had started to giggle, because she knew him and she knew the pure sweet sincerity coating the mischievous bubbling pit of humor inside him, and he didn't crack a smile and kept his eyes steady as he stared at Kirby, hand over his heart, belting out what seemed to be an award-winning speech. The other turtles were just staring, and Kirby, his arms folded, seemed to be trying to keep a straight face, until finally he just said, "Okay, okay, I believe you, honestly!" And she had lost it and started laughing, and her father turned to her and asked, "Is he always prone to epic speeches like this?"
"Only when he wants to be taken seriously," she whispered, and in her head Mikey said Hey! I always wanna be taken seriously! Especially when I'm joking! And he had blown a raspberry, which had made her laugh harder, skipping over to drape her arms around him, nuzzling his face. "You really are the little brother I always wanted."
Her father had softened. "Well, he does have the freckles and blue eyes. I bet if he were human he'd have reddish blonde hair. Maybe he'd look like your mother." And that was the exact moment when April knew her father had really accepted them.
She'd had to tell him, of course. It was Michelangelo. And he had looked every bit the horrified father, clutching her arm, and finally agreeing to let her go, thrusting yet another bottle of sunscreen into her hand, with the label proclaiming how much aloe vera was in it. A whole month, and she was getting sick of aloe gel. The whole body burn hadn't even been that bad. It had been gone in less than two weeks, and she knew that was unusually long, but it hadn't been so bad, not even during the peeling, ugh, the peeling. Her whole body. She was grateful Karai had helped.
April now pushed her way past the turnstiles, where Karai seemed to be standing guard. They smiled at each other and April settled her bag on one of the couches. Then, Donnie and Raph trudged out of the infirmary.
"Let me guess," April said. "Leo kicked them out for sleep?"
"I can go an easy thirty-six hours without sleep, thank you," Don huffed.
"Donnie," she smirked, "Go to sleep."
He grumbled. Raph grumbled. They headed to their bedrooms, grumbling.
April stood there, hands on her hips. Then she took the white bottle out of her bag and walked into the infirmary.
Leo was bent over the bed, carefully adjusting the tubes while he wiped Mikey down.
"I brought that cream Donnie was talking about," April said. "It wasn't that expensive, so don't even worry about it."
Leo glanced at her. "Thanks, April. Are you sure?"
She nodded. "My dad paid for it."
Leo paused and looked at her full on. "Oh." He seemed uncertain. "Thank him for me?"
"Of course! Leo, you really don't have to worry. You guys do a lot for me."
He seemed to pause again, then just nodded. April then did what she had been doing for weeks, removing bandages, wiping the skin, applying the cream. It had a smoother consistency than the other stuff, and it felt lighter. She bet Mikey would love it. She automatically reached out with her mind. Just in case. It had been over a month, and he had been completely silent, but…just in case.
Hey, April.
April physically jumped and gasped.
"What?" Leo said sharply, "what is it?"
"He…mentally. He said hello."
Leo's eyes went wide. He stared at her, then at his brother's face, which was as still as a mask. A look of hope spread across his face. "Do it again."
April placed her hand on Mikey's head and closed her eyes. Mikey? Can you hear me?
She really, really wasn't expecting, Yeah, I can. Finally. It was so quiet before. Where are we?
Swallowing her tears, she bit her lip. You're in the infirmary. You were first at the Mutanimals' place for a week and then we moved you to home. It's been over a month.
A whole month? Are you kidding? Oh, man…I gotta wake up. Why can't I wake up? Shouldn't I have woken up weeks ago?
I don't know, Mikey, nobody can figure that out. Rockwell said it has something to do with your brain, um, restructuring itself? Because you sort of…electrocuted yourself into multiple seizures.
There was silence, long silence, and an uncomfortable shifting sensation.
Oh, Mikey said quietly. I get it now.
She frowned. What? What do you get? Is something wrong? Is there damage?
He seemed to wave her away. No, no, it's…I'm…um, I'm more like you, April. Because of the electric stuff, and the Dimension X stuff anyway, it's just…I'm…you'll see. I need to wake up. But it hurts. I can hear everything, I know Leo's here. But it hurts.
He paused again. It really hurts, April. Why's it hurt so much?
Before she could answer, she felt Leo's hands on her shoulders. "April. April, are you okay?"
She opened her eyes with a gasp. "What?"
"You were crying," Leo said. She wiped at her face.
"Um. He wants to wake up. But it hurts."
Quickly, Leo went to a cabinet and rummaged around. After a moment, he returned with a syringe and injected it into one of the IVs. "More painkiller," he explained. He then leaned down and stroked his fingers over Mikey's face, over the healing scars.
"Hey, Baby Brother. You can wake up now. We're waiting for you."
April bit her lip. It probably wouldn't work, just like all the other times. Then again, this was the first time she had sensed him, heard him. Maybe—
Mikey groaned. His head shifted and leaned into Leo's left hand. Leo inhaled sharply and ran his right hand over Mikey's scalp. "There you go," he said, "come on, Mikey, you can do it."
April was so engrossed that she barely heard footsteps.
"He's waking up?" Raph's voice was breathless. She remembered that empathic connection.
Donnie was next to her, picking up Mikey's hand and cradling it. "Mikey, it's Donnie, can you squeeze my hand?" He sounded fatigued and determined.
Everyone stared. Mike's hand twitched, and then the fingers curled, just enough.
"That's good," Donnie breathed. He quickly turned down the lights he'd been fiddling with earlier.
"Come on, Little Brother, open those eyes," Raph said, like a cheerleader.
Mikey's face scrunched up in pain. His eyes opened and dull blueness reflected agony and fear, and a sense of finality. But as they settled on Raph, there came love and relief.
"I hear it's been a while," he whispered.
Raph's smile looked like a window collapsing. "Yeah, over a month."
"Sucks, dude."
April stuffed her hand in her mouth, but the tears still came. Mikey's voice was too small and too weak to be Mikey's.
She just barely sensed Karai entering, because Karai never made a sound and could spiritually block herself. "Hello, otouto," she said softly, "welcome back."
Michelangelo smiled shakily. "Hey, Miwa." Mikey had taken to calling her by her birth name when he was being especially affectionate. It always made her smile. This time, the smile was very wide and followed by tears. She kissed his forehead. "I'll tell the Mutanimals that you're awake, they've been anxious. Leatherhead has been in a depression."
"Poor guy. I'll cheer him up, no prob."
"Just knowing you are finally awake will be enough." Karai turned away and took out her phone. April, sniffling, busied herself with massaging the new cream into Mikey's skin and scars.
"That feels good," Mikey said, and it was hard to tell if he was whispering or not. She smiled, and took his hand, thumb brushing over the part where electricity had charred him. He let out a hissing whine and yelled, arching in the bed. April almost dropped his hand.
Shakily, Mikey brought both hands up so he could look at them. "Ow, oh, wow. Ow. I didn't know it could hurt like that. That'd explain why my feet hurt like that too."
"You do have some weird nifty scars," Raph said, and Mikey managed a grin. "I appreciate the lightheartedness, Raph. And yeah, looks like a tiny lightning strike. I guess I striked myself, kinda."
"It's…still a complicated thing," Donatello said. "We're not quite sure what happened to make you give yourself electrical burns. But you can move and feel, and that's really important."
Mikey wiggled his toes, and Raph gently began unwrapping his feet. The fractal patterns were still fascinating to him. He carefully touched the scars and Mikey jerked his feet back. "Huh. That hurts too but not as much."
"Well," Leo said, "You definitely won't be walking until the pain stops. We got a wheelchair."
"What if I, like, hovered myself, like April can?"
"Mikey, you can't do that," Donnie scoffed.
April stiffened, and Mikey glanced at her with a grin. She shook her head, mouthing No. Don noticed this, and narrowed his eyes. "Okay, what did I miss?"
Mikey grinned wider and lifted his arms like a conductor at a concert. Several objects floated off the tray table and danced in the air. "Telekinesis, dude. That's what my brain was busy doing!"
The looks of shock and bafflement on the brothers' faces almost made April laugh. Almost.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Raph grumbled.
Donatello just folded his arms and sighed. "Well, that's another thing."
"Mikey, we are going to have to train you even harder with this," Leo said, sounding intense but looking upset.
"Sure, okay." And Mikey moved his fingers. "April, catch."
"Mikey, no." And yet April held the bottle of lotion in the air steadily, trying to stare holes into Michelangelo. He merely blinked at her, the picture of innocence. "I'll be good, I promise."
She continued to stare at him, until a corner of her mouth twitched and she couldn't help her grin.
It took a while, it took a few weeks, but Leonardo managed to breathe out that specific sigh of relief he had been holding back. It turned out that Mikey was enviably good at katas while in a wheelchair. Not that Leo was envious. Ahem.
Mikey began wearing specially-made hand and foot wraps with insulating rubber material that soothed his scars and helped keep his elecktrokinesis in check. Rockwell, and Casey, as it turned out, created them. Donatello had been in awe. Mikey was able to apply his regular wraps and pads over them; he just had to make sure they stayed as dry as possible.
Once Mikey could walk again and once his hands weren't so sensitive, cooking became art, craft, and ballet. Raph would yell about the things floating around the kitchen over his head, Donnie wouldn't care as long as he had coffee or an energy drink. Mikey was, to put it bluntly, chill. It was as if he had been doing this for years.
Leonardo was a little envious.
His own spiritual powers were stronger and more reaching. He learned to rely on his own intuition more often, rather than reaching for his brothers unconsciously so much. They could tell, now, couldn't they? That was the weird part.
Master Splinter was gone, but the family had never been more connected.
In meditation against the dojo tree, Leo huffed and reached out again, to himself, into his memory, trying to pull up that moment in his bedroom where Splinter's ghost had appeared, apologetic. It had felt a little rushed, that conversation at the end.
Mikey's abilities came naturally, Sensei had explained, mutated deep inside his central nervous system, more organically successful than the O'Neil generations that finally produced April. Leo hadn't been surprised to hear that, but he had been puzzled as to why Splinter hadn't mentioned it during their childhood. And Splinter had told him a story of returning from a food run to find a very young Michelangelo wandering the tunnels alone, floating objects following him as he laughed. Splinter had nearly dropped his bags and Mikey had lifted them, joyfully volunteering to "carry" them home. The other turtles had been napping. Splinter had swiftly pulled Michelangelo into his meditation room, but thoughts of scolding had turned to worry and deep fear. If his child could do this now, while ostracized and isolated underground, there was no telling what might happen were his powers to grow as he aged, pushing him topside, among humans, scientists and government agents. Thoughts of his youngest baby being sliced open, his brain on display, made Splinter's gut twist.
And so he had carefully meditated and struggled to lock down those powers, until Michelangelo had fallen asleep in his lap, thumb in mouth, not waking for over a day.
Leo had seen the logic in that, but the emotional bit made it hard to breathe. It had been why Leo himself had been trained and pushed to study and meditate harder, praised for every kata and spiritual success. It had been why Mikey had been allowed to slide under Splinter's radar, distracted and relying on raw natural talent, eschewing deep meditation in favor of music and movement.
Splinter had been terrified his powers would awaken.
Leonardo had argued long and hard with his dead father regarding the future of the clan, the best ways to lead the team, the relationships within the family. Splinter hadn't apologized like that since Tang Shen was alive.
Finally exhausted, Leo had flopped onto his bed, muttering that he loved his father but would never understand some of his choices, to which Splinter smiled and answered that he expected nothing less. Leo had squinted at him with a "this isn't over" smirk.
The day Kavaxas had unleashed the dead, when Splinter's ghost had appeared to everyone, Leo had worried it was a final goodbye. Mikey had later assured him than Splinter was around, just…more in the background. It would be harder to reach him, and Leo's stress wasn't bad enough to make him appear more frequently. Leo hadn't known what to say to that. On the one hand, less stress. On the other hand, less talking with his dad.
Mikey helped with that, meditating with Leo under the dojo tree while swinging their linked hands back and forth and humming; Leo soon realized he was conditioning himself to respond to Mikey's songs when they played on the T-Pod. He'd hum or tap his feet and instinctively reach out his aura, which made Raph grumble about "a little freaking privacy here" – Mikey taught them about shields, walls, and bubbles. Raph again exclaimed about wondering where and how Mikey had learned all of this. Mikey's sly smile had dropped for a moment; all he said was "Dimension X. I had lots of time." And there was utter silence for a while. Donnie muttered, "Okay, let's put a pin in that, but I wanna talk to you later." And Mikey's expression was one of relief.
Later, the two of them disappeared into Donnie's lab for two hours. The smell of coffee and cocoa was strong.
Coffee and cocoa: It became a signal.
Mikey practiced telekinesis with April dutifully, sometimes with Casey as a moving target. It made Raph chuckle, which was Mikey's goal in general. Leo supervised every training exercise, stern and careful. Donnie did even more research, dragging Mikey and April into the lab every now and then to help test another invention.
Mikey happily took Donnie's self-proclaimed "ADHD treatment" as long as he could give input on varied inventions. Usually painting things neon orange was vetoed.
Their next battle, involving Purple Dragons, the Foot, an arms shipment, and a stolen ancient mystical artifact, became mildly explosive when Don tripped over a box of gunpowder, Mikey floated it a little too close to the dynamite by accident, and a foolish Dragon member began firing a rifle blindly.
"Get behind me!" Mikey screamed, and his brothers moved like a dance. Mikey threw a crackling amber force field up as something burst into flames. He moved the shield into a bubble to surround his brothers and abruptly dove headfirst into the flames.
"MIKEY!" Raph screamed, beating at the shield. "What the fuck are you doing, you little idiot? Get back here!"
"Raph, are you crying?" Leo asked.
"SHUT UP, LEO. MIKEY! GET YOUR FRECKLED ASS OUT OF THERE OR I WILL-"
Mikey emerged blackened but shielded, triumphantly holding the artifact.
Raphael collapsed to his knees, snarling, his eyes fiery. He pressed his hands to the ground as though preparing to pounce.
Michelangelo's eyes were sparking with electricity, his body enveloped in orange energy, and he levitated the artifact back to the antiques store several blocks away. Leo clenched his teeth when he realized how shaky Mikey looked. As soon as the force field dropped, Raph was on his feet and racing to him. His arms enveloped just as Mikey began to seize, one hand holding Mikey's head to his shoulder, the other supporting his torso. Leo heard Donnie mumble something about "timing" and watched his genius brother crouch next to Mikey, getting something from his trusty duffel bag.
Leonardo sighed, sheathing his swords and hovering over his team. Raphael was grumbling, "Damn runt thinks he can just take everything on his fucking self, he won't think about his own fucking life…" And he abruptly pressed his forehead to Mikey's, rocking him, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. Give it to me, Mikey, I'll take it, let me have it…" And Leo felt that excess emotional energy flow between the two. His mouth opened, sensing Orange and Red clash, struggle, and braid into each other, Red gradually overwhelming Orange in a purring crush and wrapping around it, sucking out the crackling, screaming rush of force and power and emotion. Raph took long deep breaths, lifting his head, green eyes blazing before a long growl erupted, and his shoulders shook, and he sighed and breathed in again as though sipping crisp water. He bumped Mikey's forehead again.
"I got it all, Mikey. I took it and let it go. Come back now, come on back, you're okay."
Mikey mumbled and blinked, staring at each of them. "Not s'posed to do that, you know."
"Fuck supposed to," Raph said. Don nodded firmly.
Mikey seemed to contemplate this before looking up at Leo. Leo felt Orange circle him in a fatigued sweep as if judging. Clenching his fists, Leo nodded. Mikey sighed. Orange melted away. Purple reached out and caught its last fading bits and clutched them. Mikey slid his eyes to Donnie, who smiled tightly.
"Fine," Mikey said, "but I can walk on my own."
That was the first time.
The second time, Leo dove in front of Mikey as a Footbot weapon rushed toward them. Blood sprayed and Mikey roared, colors exploding into white and black. He held Leo, screaming so hard the remaining Footbots burst into a floating mess of metal.
Leo's body jolted and he gasped as though coming up from drowning. He stared at the sky, which had grown cloudy between his bloody fall and now. Mikey's face filled his vision, enraged, the scars standing out, those azure eyes darker than angry oceans.
"Don't you ever fucking do that again, Leo."
Coughing blood, Leonardo scowled. "You don't tell me what to do, Mikey."
Donnie was there, spilling gentle Purple over them both, already preparing to care for Leo's chest wounds. Raph stood over them, fists clenched, sais, gleaming, as if another threat would come. Red filled Leo with enough adrenaline to move into Donnie's and Mikey's arms. Full of tremors, Blue darted out ahead of them all, lighting the way back home.
The third time, Raph and Leo fought, starting in the dojo, spilling into the living area literally fists flying, voices screaming. Blades unsheathed and readied. Red and Blue swirled like dragons, like tigers, circling and feeding off each other until the entire lair's spiritual environment nearly suffocated.
The lab door slammed open. The younger brothers ran out in one smooth motion. Michelangelo shrieked, and Orange amplified into a blast of power and sound. Pillows and chairs flew across the Pit. The pinball machine shook. Leo and Raph were knocked onto their shells. Mikey was still screaming, mindless words filled with inventive curses, and as the television lifted off its foundation, Donatello wrapped his arms around Michelangelo from behind. Mikey yowled and flailed, eyes going wide and feet lashing out. Donnie let out a powerfully loud swear of his own and released him, whirling around and dashing back into the lab.
Mikey was a tornado as he ran to his bedroom, the door slamming so hard it cracked. Minutes later, music blared, a low feminine voice howling over the sound of drums.
Leo and Raph stared at each other.
"Shit," Raph said, "That's Florence And The Machine."
Leo bit his lip. "At least we know he'll calm down soon?"
"Fuck you both," Don said perkily, stepping over them with two steaming twenty ounce mugs of mocha. "He won't just 'calm down' because this is a fucking meltdown. Shame on you. Don't come in until I call you." And he carefully opened Mikey's door and closed it behind him.
Donatello was the only one who could touch Michelangelo in this state, because Donatello was the only one who actually knew what it was like.
The music was turned down until it was muffled.
The scent of coffee and chocolate was so powerful it permeated the lair.
The door did not open for three hours.
Leo and Raph were asleep on each other's shoulders, the television repeating episodes of "Space Heroes: The Next Generation" by the time Donnie cautiously walked out and began cleaning up. A moment later, Mikey came over and silently helped him, afterwards flopping onto a beanbag chair, massaging his temples.
"Do you want Ice Cream Kitty?" Don asked softly.
"Yeah," Mikey said hoarsely.
Donnie brought Ice Cream Kitty, plus two small bowls. Kitty had made chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Mikey thanked them both, and proceeded to gripe at the television when Captain Ryan made yet another dangerous decision among aliens. Don just smiled and mocked alongside him, noting that Leo didn't wake up until they were laughing so hard they were rolling on the floor. Raph merely grunted when he woke, grinning like a fool. He slung an arm around Leo's shoulders. The lair's aura brightened again.
It was the fifth time that really showed them how dangerous the baby of the family could be.
Mikey, April, and Utrom Bishop were training on a roof at sunset. The other turtles and Karai were watching and sharing popcorn, occasionally providing objects for the two psionics to play with.
Bishop began to discuss their sensei, about how Splinter and the Utroms had a history, how Hamato Yoshi had sacrificed so much seventeen years ago, when the turtles were recently mutated infants on par with human toddlers. Raphael's eye began to lightly twitch as Bishop spoke, the unemotional, unempathetic flat tone starting to grate.
Michelangelo stood silent, a rare sight, head down, fists clenched. Orange swirled, shaping into memories of Splinter throughout their childhood. Blue, Purple, and Red joined instinctively, and it got to a point where the others could actually see the energies floating. Bishop snapped a warning.
Mikey snapped in general.
None of them had seen Michelangelo this upset. In the months after Splinter's death, they had carefully soothed each other, barreling through the stages of grief in their own ways, comforting each other's nightmares and slow-burning bleeding trauma. Mikey, out of all of them, had been the most vocal and the most active, demanding that they talk about anything and everything, filling the lair with music, desperately distracting himself by sketching with colored pencils, leaving drawings all over the lair, beautiful portraits of their father both rat and human, his wife, baby Miwa, his brothers, his friends…never himself. A drawing of the Shredder, black and gray, a drawing of Rahzar, brown and red. Mikey cried after nightmares, but quickly ran to the kitchen to make breakfast food at any time of day or night, chirping and joyful in a frightening way. Mikey talked incessantly about Splinter, but only the good parts and never about how he was murdered. Never about the Shredder in that moment on the roof, never about Splinter's body crashing to the pavement soaked in blood. Never about the brothers being pallbearers. Always about the brighter side.
Falling to his knees, Michelangelo shrieked and howled and scraped his hands against the cement. His aura darkened into a rusty burnt blood shade, expanding until a nearby vent was shaking and warping. Electricity shot up his arms. He cried "Papa" until it tore at his throat, "Papa, I need you, come back…"
And his brothers and his sister stood back and let him rage, and when Bishop began to speak, Mikey shrieked "Don't talk about my father!" and Bishop flew into an HVAC unit, hard enough to leave an impression.
April was the first to approach him, small hands gripping one of his arms as she knelt close, forehead pressing to his shoulder, her own telekinetic shield wrapping around her like a cloak. Mikey was crying in short, hiccupping sobs now. His face was close to the roof's abrasive cement and he gagged, his forehead touching the cement and his tremors strong enough to mark the skin between his eyes as he began to bang his head slowly. Donatello leapt forward and carefully cupped Mikey's face and brought it up, brought his lips to his head and kissed just above the graze. Mikey grabbed him, grabbed him around the waist and butted his head into Donnie's plastron. Donnie held him around the shoulders as April gripped his bicep and they both whimpered and shook.
Purple widened its force and began to wrap Orange in light shades. Orange shivered, lightened, tried to pull away, and Red shot forth and enveloped Orange, Blue came in from below and provided a wider embrace. Orange pulsed between lighter and darker shades of itself, finally settling in the middle; the other colors did the same.
Leo, Raph, Don, and Mike held each other and rocked, while April stepped back and rested her hand on Mikey's head. Mikey shivered and then let out an unexpected animal growl. The sky above began to darken and clouds amassed quickly. Biting her lip, April struggled to pull his power down. Raph tried to wrap around it but Mikey's rage and pain were too big. Rain slashed down at them.
Raph and Donnie glared at Utrom Bishop, who merely sighed and nodded, eyes narrowed. April gestured at him, chin high.
Leo lifted Mikey into his arms and Mikey clung to him, crying quietly, shivering into a seizure. In the storm, the family went home.
The storm lasted for three days. Mikey curled up on the floor of the Pit. They made him a nest of pillows and blankets and stayed with him, Casey and Karai bringing in groceries and supplies. April slipped her psychic senses into Mikey's like hands holding, and Mikey held onto her. Raph fed him protein shakes and Leo sang in Japanese.
Mikey fell asleep, and the weather cleared up, becoming unnaturally warm. Mikey developed a fever. He woke up after two days. Smiling as if nothing had happened, Mikey stretched and went to the kitchen, calmly began to cook and bake, and made a week's worth of food. Casey and April each took some home before the fridge over-filled.
At the table, after another meal, Mikey leaned into Raph and began to talk.
Orange nudged Red hard and they wrapped around each other; Raph began to feel tranquil more often. Emotions and temperature.
Orange split off a piece of itself and merged with Purple until Donnie could hear Mikey no matter where he was. Words and sounds.
Blue hovered at the edges of Orange, gently touching, and Orange accepted, gripping, until Leo occasionally dreamed with Mikey. Colors and sensation.
The next time Karai came to the lair, she and Mikey performed a meditative dance, and Leo felt a dozen paint balloons hitting his aura in the astral plane. He managed to grab a few and hurl them at Raph, who caught Donnie. April was the only one able to avoid the psychic mess. But she joined the physical turtle pile, as the older siblings pounced on the youngest, laughing until they hurt, bathing in the sunshine that was their Michelangelo. The ghost of Splinter watched them and laughed with them.
For so long I was looking for the answers
Waiting for dawn in the darkness of disaster
I found a way
Broke through the chains
Now I got away
Following this above
I'm marching on (Get Ready)
We're not afraid anymore
Don't close your eyes
Not afraid anymore
This is the night
They may run but we are not afraid
Afraid
Now I'm the one that they try to run away from
Victory comes
I've got gold running through my blood
I found a way
Broke through the chains
Now I got away
Following this above
I'm marching on (Get Ready)
We're not afraid anymore
Don't close your eyes
Not afraid anymore
This is the night They may run but we are not afraid
Afraid
Can't stop
Can't get enough
I've got gold running through my blood
Get up
Get all you want
I've got gold running through my blood
We're not afraid anymore
Don't close your eyes
Not afraid anymore
This is the night
They may run but we are not afraid
Afraid
We are not afraid (I found a way)
(Broke through the chains) (Now I got away)
(Following this above)
I'm marching on
-Mountains vs Machines, "Not Afraid"