I dunno when I started to feel this way.
It wasn't when we lost Donnie. When he wouldn't find him, no matter how far we searched. It wasn't when Mikey started having nightmares about Don being tortured. About our Genius brother begging for us to save him in his sleep.
It wasn't when the Shredder took over, when the world had no choice but to fall to their knees. Or risk their heads. I don't' even think it was when I lost my eye, or Mikey lost his arm. I felt it a little bit when Leo lost his eyesight. But it went away. I shoved away, like I did all my emotions.
It wasn't even when Splinter died. But it hit me harder than it did another day. To have my brother's drag on my arms, shoving me from the Lair we called home. Listening to my father's final shouts to us, to flee. To stay strong.
I wish we had fulfilled both of his wishes.
I think it started after that. When the worst of the arguing began. When Mikey got so sick of me and Leo bickering he left. To join the Resistance full time and fight alongside the few free. Or when Leo followed. I don't think it even mattered when I thought he had given up. Right after Casey died, the one idiot who still believed. Who hadn't become bitter. When his body lay mutilated. When I had to carry his corpse across New York. To show his wife, to watch April fall to her knees and sob. That's when it happened.
That's' when I lost hope.
(#)(#)(#)(#)
Mikey had a ritual. It had come right along with his nightmares. Though he would never admit to the people around him those nightmares still plagued him. Not that they'd never let him live it down, maybe it was just for himself. Maybe he was being selfish
Anyway, he would go and lay down on his rag of a bed. His remaining arm draped across his forehead and watching the cracks in the ceiling. It didn't matter what lay beyond those cracks, the recent base change now meant only City Street lay above. He would just stare at the ceiling for hours on end. No matter how exhausted he was.
Sleep was a rare treat.
When he was younger, his brothers blamed his insomnia on anxiety. And Leo would always be in the next room for him to run to, he would always scoot over and let him sleep snuggled into his side. Whispering promises of their reunion with Donnie.
But that was another thing that changed
He no longer dreamed.
His sleeplessness sent an irritated growl to his lips. Moving up to a sitting position and running his hand over his warm oily face. Shit, he needed sleep. If not for himself if only to keep himself in top form. He couldn't afford to grow lazy or slack off. If he needed anything from sleep, it was a dark cold break from the world he currently lived in.
Mikey swung his legs off his rag-bed, his powerful muscles carrying him to full stature. He could feel each ache and scar through his bones that indicated long years of battle and loss.
Perhaps more loss then battle.
HE went over to the door, pushing the curtain aside into barley lit hallway. Though it was bright enough to make him curse lightly, rubbing his wrist against his burning eyes-
"I thought you'd' be awake."
The voice was so rough and gravely Mikey could have almost mistaken it for Raph's. Except The red masked ninja would never be so polite. He turned his head to look at the approaching brother. It had been years since Leo had abandoned his blue mask and adopted the sunglasses to hide injured eyes. Mikey wasn't sure if Leo used his blindness as an excuse to abandon his mask. But either way it had happened, "What do you want?"
"You need to talk to Raph."
Right to the point, right to the nerve that sent an irritated growl through him, "Can't you do your fighting yourself? Now you gotta have me play 'mailboy' through your stupidity-"
It almost satisfied Mikey to see the irritation go across his oldest brother's face. Alteast they were on the same field now, "It's not about that."
"Then what is it about? Unless you wanna play a guessing game all night."
Leos' brow furrowed, his head turning from side to side lightly. One of the practices he had adopted to sense people around him. Mikey thought of it as a form of echolocation. Truth be told, it was far more efficient then just looking around. When Leo was satisfied his head leaned forward, Mikey took the hint to do the same
"We think Raph's been compromised."
Mikey didn't know what he expected to hear from Leo. But the word 'compromised' sent a horrible chill through his stomach. A cold horror, anger following with such speed it would have made Raph proud. His hand going up and slapping him hard in the chest, "What part of that's funny Fearless?! I thought your humor died years ago-="
"I'm not kidding Mikey. and I'm not the only one who thinks so." his voice hushed angrily, "A number of us think he's been compromised for some time. He doesn't sleep here, he only shows up for a few hours and takes his meals with him."
"So he's antisocial. You make him look like Miss Congeniality-"
"And he hasn't talked to April in 6 months. SIX MONTHS."
The excuses stopped dead. Leaving him mid agape.
They had lost a few to their cause. Tempted by the Shredders agents promise of warm meals and safety for their families. Enough for a pattern to form in those who became a traitor. Hardly anyone noticed the antisocial behavior. It was common in a world where friendships got you killed.
It was when they couldn't look you in the eye.
Of the person they respected the most.
Because of the guilt that followed, unbearable.
And everyone knows that April was the one who Raph admired the most. Respected. The only reason he even still stuck around.
IF even those two had stopped talking….
"How long?"
"6 months."
Shit, that was a long time. Long enough to be concerned. Long enough for April to speak up. To tell Leo, who would then go to him.
To lead to this very moment.
"I'll talk to him." there were no other words he could think of. He couldn't stand up to fact. Not when this painful cycle had repeated itself so many times in others. IN others he himself had trusted.
If Raph was innocent, he wanted to prove it.
If Raph was guilty….
Then he wanted to give his brother a running head start.
(#)(#)(#)(#)
His fingers dug into the remaining window frame above his head, hanging him down to resemble an ape from those movies he had seen years ago. His knee braced on the ledge and looking down on the street below.
Or what remained of it.
Long ago, this had been a battle zone between the United States and Shredders Army. Now it was known as "The Battle of Fallen Flag."
The name spoke volumes for itself.
His eyes skimmed over broken street, fallen buildings. You should still vaguely see the stains of red of years past. But he knew better then to think some of those were old. When they could have very easily been the blood of a catprued human, kicking and screaming to escape the grasp of a Foot soldier. To drag him off to one of the Labor Camps.
But that was everyday here
His eyes caught glimpse of the familiar brown leather of his older brother's coat. They all still claimed to be ninjas, but it was easy to say that they had fallen in skill level and practice over the past few years. 30 years ago it would have been next to impossible to trace Raph with his bare eyes.
Mikey wet his lips with an equally dry tongue. Plan, what was his plan? He was going to get proof of Raph's 'compromise." maybe even confront him. They'd talk, he'd get the truth. When Raph's form disappeared behind one of the building bases that remained, Mikey allowed himself to fall from the window and to the ground. His gun tight to his shell and his footsteps carrying him forward.
Anything was better then loosing another brother.
His foot finding a place in slated and dusted ruins. Flipping him over broken rock. His foot catching the edge of the building Raph had disappeared around, swinging his body around.
Wait
He was gone.
Mikey's eyes shot from side to side, to the melted dumpster to the right and to the building he held on to, to his left.
Where the hell did he go?
HE was too dam fat to have escaped his tracking already. The building was all but a shell; he didn't need to look around to know he wasn't in there. Mikey moved back over to the melted dumpster, the bottom of it remained. Btu there was nothing there-
A curiosity hit him. Mikey lowered himself down to his knees, resting his head on his forearm to look down under the dumpster. At the gaping hole.
Hell
He didn't think Raph could fit his fat ass down that thing.
Mikey moved around to stick his feet under the dumpster, using his remaining arm to push himself forward and into the hole. Feet meeting cold stone from lack of sunlight. The tunnel itself so dark that he wasn't' sure anything could pierce it.
Except eyes made for the dark.
That thought alone sent a smile to his lips. Lowering himself down from the ledge he could just see the tunnel twist ahead of him. He almost wanted to joke, maybe when he caught up to Raph he'd joke about what a stupid dumbass he had be-
before he could turn the corner, there was a flash of green, something caught his wrist twisting it up his back and his plastron meeting hard rock, his face following by the and on the back of his scalp, a feral growl in his ear
"What the hell are you doing here Mikey?"
All his chiding all but vanished. Replaced by the pain in his face and rock in his gut. And his own stupidity , "What? You moved out and I wanted to see the new place. NO housewarming party or any-"the arm twisted harder on his back. He could only imagine the rage on his brother's face.
"GET OUT."
Mikey's place on the wall was soon replaced by a new place on the ground, his arm just stopping his face from meeting a horrible fate before turning, "I aint leaving till you talk to me."
"Why the hell should I? I left the base to get AWAY from you guys? Can't you take a hint?"
"I can take a hint, RAPHIE. But when you're being accused of betrayal then it's time to come clean-"
"Traitor? I didn't think your band of misfit fighters were that stupid. Get the hell out of here before I tossed you out."
Mikey could hear his footsteps stomping across the hallway, marking his departure. Mikey allowed an irritated groan to escape his lips before climbing back up to his feet.
He didn't care anymore
He had some ass to kick
After he proved Raph's innocent
"what the hell else are we supposed to think Raph?!" he shouted, storming down the way Raph had gone, he could just see a light at the end of the low tunnel," Dam it Raph, you don't even talk to April anymore! What else are we supposed to think!? How about you stop acting like a colossal ass for 5 seconds and actually THINK, "His hand grabbed the doorway "Cause honestly I don't' know what's so freaking important-" eh door slamming against the wall behind it with enough force for the sound of makeshift hinges cracking fill the air.
Raph's home looked quite literally dug out from the ground. A lantern sitting in the center and a cushion against the wall. Weird bulbs hanging from the ceiling and a large old fridge sitting against the wall. a stack of rags that barely looked big enough to house Raph lay in the far corner The angry bastard himself standing, a worn stuffed doll hanging from calloused hands
Wait
Doll?
Mikey looked again. Poorly sewn, poorly designed, more like a stuffed ghost. But obviously meant to take the shape of a familiar form. Wooden blocks in one corner.
Blocks-
"Daddy?"
The voice was so light and quiet. The voice of a child. A little boy. The bundle of rags he had seen moving ever so lightly. A small form sitting up, so tiny, dressed in a black large hoody, hidden under the blankets that made up his bed. A tiny light brown arm with three fingers reached out, rubbing his eyes tiredly within the hood, a large yawn obscuring the visual part of his beak. Just sticking out of the hood was a torn purple bandanna, tied around his neck and all but frayed at the edges.
A beak.
A turtle
Purple
Dons' mask
"Daddy?"