What starts as a day of cleaning turns into much more when Michelangelo finds an odd stone with the word wish on it. But there's no such thing as wishing stones, is there?
Might be some light language but nothing major, I'm keeping it lighthearted here. The first draft was way to somber so I ditched it. I'll be working between this and 'vacation' so...enjoy!
Wishful Thinking
Mikey wakes to the sound of yelling. He doesn't rise, so much as fall, out of slumber.
He lies half off the bed, wrapped endlessly in the sheets he found in a dumpster. His brother's tease him about the purple stars, but he likes them.
He's still tired. Late night comic reading is to blame. His eyes refuse to fully open and he's fine with that. He'd rather sleep the day away anyways. In fact, he may use this opportunity to test his acting abilities and feign sickness.
Something shatters in the living room.
He groans and throws a pillow over his head, muting the sound. Yeah, better to stay in today. Safer. He just manages to fall into a nice rhythmic haze when he hears the first call.
"Mikey?"
He grunts, both surprised and irritated that it's Donatello. He tries ignoring him, but Don knows better. Don's voice moves to the doorway. "Mikey, you've got to get up."
He mumbles an indeterminable sound, then burrows deeper in his nest of warmth. There's a pad of feet and he thinks Don's left. He sighs happily. Then his sheets are suddenly flung away, throwing him to the floor.
"Rise and shine, sweetheart." Says a deep voice.
It's surprising how quick Raphael can be, when he wants to.
Mikey grumbles and makes a face at his immediate elder brother. "Not the first mug I wanna see, bro."
Raph throws the sheets away and roughly tells him to get moving. His mumble isn't lost as he leaves. "If I gotta do this crap, so do you."
They're cleaning, spring cleaning today. It'll be nothing short of torture, it always is. And long. His room alone could take days.
He sticks out his tongue at the door, though Raph is long gone.
Don shakes his head, tells him to hurry and leaves. Mikey sticks his tongue at him too. He takes his sweet time, just to be an ass.
Out in the living area their already in motion, well Leo is anyway. Leonardo, master of the katana, dictator of cleaning. He takes his jobs way too seriously, this is no exception.
His voice is sharp. "Michelangelo, you are late."
Mikey waves his eldest brother away. A broom is thrown at him for his troubles. Leo points at the the nearest available floor, the living room. "Go, now."
Mikey salutes and grumbles away. He hates sweeping, it makes him sneeze. And Leo's definition of sweeping is moving every stinking thing they own, so he can get behind and underneath ever surface. He checks, as Mikey's learned, and will make him redo it if he finds it unsatisfactory. Leo wants everything clean. They live in a sewer, so this makes no sense.
Don's at least tried to make devices to help them. Unfortunately they've never been much help. More of a hazard really. The last one had attacked Master Splinter on the intentions that it was picking up lint and hair. The old rat had been charred for weeks. He'd been so mad, he forbade Don from ever trying again. Old fashioned cleaning was reinstated.
Mikey yawns then 'accidentally' swipes Raph who's positioned on a ladder wiping the higher surfaces. He sways but doesn't fall. "Watch it, ya bonehead."
Raph could say more, no doubt would, but Leo's watching and they've already had it out this morning. Looks like Raph lost as he mumbles what can only be silent obscenities to himself. Mikey hears the words Mr. Big Shot and wisely moves on.
Don's busy pretending he doesn't hate dusting as much as Mikey does sweeping. He tries to get out of it, does every time. Uses some excuse about needing to discover the cure for cancer or some nonsense that Leo never believes. Mikey figures he tries to play reverse psychology to get off for good behavior. He's smart, he should know by now, it's not gonna work.
"Real good dusting there Donnie. So good in fact, I think you can do the whooole lair." He barely misses the duster attack. Don would hit better with the broom, as it's closer to his bo, but that's Mikey's.
"Donatello, you're supposed to be dusting the shelves, not Mikey's face." Leo likes to use their full names, it makes him feel older, more in charge.
Mikey smirks at Don's tense shoulders, he's ready to snap. Mikey's done his job and turns to continue his half hearted sweeping. He's had more practice at shamming his way out of things than Don, so he's more convincing. He moves further from the room, towards the kitchen. The closer he gets to it, the more likely he'll be able to sneak away.
Don lets out a loud cough. It may be from the dust, but is probably to alert Leo.
Sure enough, there's Leo to point him back to the entertainment area. "You have to clean from the inside out. Otherwise you'll track dirt." He offers helpfully.
Mikey leans on the broom. "Wow Leo, I think your a mind reader, that's totally what I was thinking."
"I don't appreciate sarcasm." Leo says.
And Mikey doesn't appreciate cleaning on a Saturday. Not that the day really matters, it's not like they get days off or anything. It's the principle. As a teenager, he feels obligated to complain about work on a Saturday. It's not his fault he happens to be an over sized, green turtle who doesn't have a social life and lives underground.
He takes great care in being as noisy as possible. It's boring and his back hurts from inching the television so he can get behind it. Not an easy task and as far as he's concerned, completely stupid. Who cares if there's dirt behind a place that no one's ever going to see?
There's a hum from the couch "You're doing well, Michelangelo."
Master Splinter, apparently.
Mikey might be more appreciative of the complement, were his Master not on the one piece of furniture he now needs to move. Splinter gives no indication that he's leaving, so Mikey moves it anyway, with him on it. The rat's watching one of his soaps. It's in Spanish. Mikey isn't sure Splinter even knows Spanish. On the screen there's a hairy man in a wedding dress trying to marry another woman while some old lady is chanting like she'd possessed. Weird stuff.
He watches for a good ten minuets before he feels someone behind him. "Michelangelo. Just what are you doing?"
He ducks even though he knows Leo's not going to hit him. That's Raph's gig. Leo tortures with exercise and physiological warfare. Makes him mediate for hours. It's much worse.
"Hey Leo, I was just, ya know, spending some quality time with Master Splinter. You know how upset he gets that none of us appreciate foreign programing. I'm trying to broaden my horizons." He sweep his hands. "Isn't that right, sensei?"
Splinter doesn't take his eyes from the set. "You must master one thing before you can learn another." He gestures. "And I believe you have missed a spot, my son."
Leo looks way too satisfied with himself and goes to tell Raph to stop doing...something.
Mikey grumbles and moves the sofa back. "Gee, thanks for the help there, sensei."
His Master holds a wizened claw. "There is much to be learned in the purging of one's homes. You must have pride, Michelangelo. Pride in where you live and who you are. You're brother's are there to help you, but you must also help them. And your master-which you can do now by handing me that remote."
Mikey sighs and reaches for the remote. Splinter makes an inspired sound when a man kisses a pig on the screen. Mikey gives it over begrudgingly and promptly grabs his broom and storms off elsewhere.
Don's not moving very fast, he's been working in the same area since the beginning. He puts the 'slow turtle' stereotype into practice.
"Slow and steady wins the race, eh Donnie?" Mikey catches him in the elbow and Don almost topples something, one of Master Splinter's relics from Japan. His eyes widen but nothing drops or breaks.
Mikey smirks, now they're even. "Snitch." he whispers.
Don fumes. "Why you-"
Mikey whistles, he moves his way back towards another self filled with more crap he's never noticed. Aside from his comic books and video games, movies, bed, anything that's his, the rest of his family's belongings could all be rubbish. He wouldn't know the difference.
He starts to sweep when something strikes his eyes. Something odd. He takes a step closer.
What is that?
He checks over his shoulder, not really knowing why. It's not like he's doing something wrong? Is he? He hesitates before shaking his head. Nope he's just paranoid. Leo makes him that way sometimes. Especially when he's playing god, like he is now.
It's a flat, misshapen stone. He observes it in his green fingers. It's covered in different colors, pretty ugly. It looks out of place amongst the other, much cooler things on the shelf. He peers closer, the word wish is stamped on the side.
He rolls his eyes. Great, some overpriced, gift shop crap. Superstitious nonsense. But why was it here? There was no way Splinter would pick up something so-phony. Must have been a gift from April or something, seemed girly enough. Girls liked sayings like wish, hope, love, all that jazz.
He rolls the stone in his palm, tempted to chuck it at Raph.
"Make a wish, sucka." He pretends the throw and snickers. Raph would kill him, but it'd be worth it.
Maybe he could hit Leo, knock out the stick up his butt.
"What are ya doing?" Raph asks from behind him.
He jumps, flounders the stone, then blurts. "I wasn't gonna do it, I swear."
Raph looks confused, Mikey doesn't blame him. He really needs to try that 'think before you speak' thing Leo's always yammering about.
"Have you been huffing paint thinner again?" Raph asks.
Mikey rolls his eyes. "No Raph, you know that was only one time." And that's because he was the one who dared him to. The moldy Mars bar had not been worth it.
"What is that thing?" Raph points. Mikey's eyes follows the stubby green finger.
He shrugs "Just a stone."
Raph raises a brow, like he expected more."Ya well, you've been looking at it for like five minuets. Ya lucky Leo's gone to take a crap, or something. He'd be all over ya ass."
Mikey smirks. "Is that why you're hiding out?" He asks.
Raph makes a conflicted grunt, like he doesn't want to admit anything. "Whatever, I'm on a break."
"Does Leo know that?" He smiles at the irritated flash in his brother's eyes.
Raph changes the subject. "Where did ya get that? It's pretty, well- pink." He smiles. "Is there something ya need to tells us, Mikey?"
Mikey notices that Raph's right, it is pretty pink. Huh? It wasn't before. Trippy.
"Um, it's a wishing stone, I think." He offers it for Raph to see. He's unimpressed and brushes the object away.
"Right. You've been reading those girls books again, haven't you?" Raph accuses.
"No I haven't." He says. Raph still won't let him live down the lot of Nancy Drew books he'd collected from one of their trash raids, years prior. He'd liked the covers. He was twelve at the time, sue him.
Raph rests a hand on one of his sais. "Then how do ya know it's a wishing stone?"
He didn't. "I dunno. It says wish on it and it's a stone."
Raph snorts. "Brilliant deduction."
"Shut up." He tries to storm away but Raph snatches the stone from his hands. He makes a sound of annoyance and tries to reach for it. Raph's way taller than him, so his attempts are thwarted easily.
"Hey give it back." Raph observes the stone, bites his lip then throws it back. "Wishing stone. Stupid." he mumbles.
"Is there a problem here?" Leo's apparently come back from wherever. He doesn't look too pleased.
"Of course not, Mr. Leader." Raph scoffs and storms off in giant strides. Mikey's sure Leo can hear him as he quietly stews to himself. Splinter's trying to get him to control his anger through things like counting backwards and calming down before he 'expresses' himself. It's working, but that's bound to be temporary.
Mikey pretends he had nothing to do with it. The sweeping seems to convince, or at least satisfy, Leo enough to move along.
He's sore and more than exhausted by the time he's able to escape to his room. Leo runs a tight ship but even he knows they need rest. Maybe he could offer a hand, things might go faster. Mikey laughs at the thought. Leo dictates not follows.
He realizes with slight amazement that the stone is still in his palm. Had he carried it with him? Apparently so. It's stupid really, but for some reason he can't seem to part with it. The idea pf codependency on a rock freaks him out so he puts it on his dilapidated nightstand. Then stares at it.
Wish, the word can't seem to leave his mind.
Something drips from the ceiling. He sighs, must be another leak somewhere in the tunnel. It'd have to be fixed. Great.
"Ya know what I wish? I wish that we were all humans. Then we wouldn't have to live in the sewer."He grumbles, moving a book out of the dirty water's path.
He's being moody and he knows it. He doesn't mind living in the sewers, he just wishes sometimes they didn't have to. That they could be normal.
He groans. He's sounding like Raph with all his moping. Why can't we be normal blah, blah, blah. It is what it is Mikey's just tired and nothings gonna change by complaining about there lifestyle. It's not so bad anyway, being green.
He kind of likes making people crap their pants just by looking at him.
TBC
Writing this while I should be doing homework, let me know what ya'll think.