Old Wounds – TMNT

It is said that old wounds never heal. From the corner of his eye, Leonardo observed his youngest brother Michelangelo preparing to rise. The younger turtle had been sitting on the couch watching television, when Master Splinter had threaten to confine the brothers to the lair if he had to call them one more time for dinner. Leo watched as Mikey got to his feet – the slight falter did not go unnoticed. Sighing, Leo spotted what he was looking for as Mikey headed for the fridge: his limp. It was hardly detectable, only to be noted when one was really looking for it – and his brothers always were.

Leo still blamed himself for the injury. He should have kept the text; that was what the Elite had been concerned with. Not with Leo, Raph and Don's attempts to distract them. All the Elite Guard's attention had been focused on the scroll, which Leo had foolishly given to Mikey and told him to run. Putting him right in harm's way.

When Master Splinter had informed the brothers that Karai was in possession of a scroll with incarnations on it that could transform the reader virtually into a god, the four had come to a decision wordlessly. There was no way they could allow Karai to acquire supernatural powers so she should terrorize New York City, and most likely the world. A simple plan was formed: get in, get the text, blast their way out to April and Casey waiting in a helicopter.

It was a ridiculously crude plan, where anything could go wrong. However, there was no time to dream up a better scheme; the longer Karai was in possession of the scroll. The greater the risk became. The four brothers had prayed that everything would work in their favour.

Of course, that night the old turtle luck ran true to form.

The entry had gone smoothly—it should have been the first indication, Leo would think later angrily—with only a few Foot to take care of. They got cocky and overconfident. Leaving a trail of senseless guards in their wake, Leo, Raph, Don and Mikey reached the elevator swiftly, silently, and undetected … or so they had thought. The elevator doors had opened, and lo and behold, the Elite Guard were waiting for them.

"How kind! A welcome wagon!" Mikey had joked. If only he had known what was to come.

On of the guard had pointed his weapon at them menacingly. "Leave now, and we will spare your lives!"

Raph had brought his hand to his head and scratched. "Hmm … lemme think …" he pondered sarcastically. "No!" He flung his sai, and the fight was on.

As planned, Leo lured the guard attacking him to his brothers, where Raph distracted him. Leo had then quickly made for the scroll and grabbed it. He should have known that their plan was far too simple to work. Of course he would not go unnoticed. Of course he would be attacked. And of course Leo would toss the scroll to the brother whom he wanted out of the fight: Mikey.

There was nothing else he could have done, Raph would tell him later. He would have been overcome. But it sure didn't feel that way.

They guys had been so focused on their opponents that they had not noticed one slip past them until they heard Mikey's cry of surprise. Leo had turned just in time to see his brother hit the floor. He saw the Elite raise his spear, preparing to strike a fatal blow.

"Move, Mikey! Move!" Leo had urged desperately.

And his brother did move. He tried to roll out of the way, bringing his left leg across his body. The spear went down. Four roars had filled the air: one of pain, three of outrage and agony. Completely overcome by a psychotic-like fury, Leo, Raph and Don had subdued their foes quickly, and hurried to their fallen brother's side.

His leg was losing blood at an alarming rate.

For Mikey, the memory of the escape was only sounds: Raph yelling frantically at him, begging him to say he was okay; the shattering of glass; the sound of the helicopter; a gasp from April and a cuss from Casey; and his brothers' forced laughter at a joke he couldn't remember telling. It had all gone so fast, for he had been slipping in and out of consciousness.

For Leo, however, things had gone entirely different. Everything seemed to take so long. Loading Mike into the helicopter had taken forever. The flight to the landing place dragged on. Getting his brother back to the lair had taken an eternity, even with Casey helping. And yet, there was one thing that hadn't slowed. In fact, the rate at which the blood was seeping from Mikey's wound appeared to have sped up, even with Don's makeshift tourniquet.

Back at the lair, Splinter had tended to the injury and assured his sons that their brother would be fine; he would most likely be conscious in a few days and continue healing from there. However, all was not well. Yes, it was true that Mikey had his eyes open in two days, as Splinter had predicted, but that was the only progress he made. They kept him on the couch for two reasons: in case something went wrong and they needed to get him out quickly, and because his brothers assumed that the television would calm him. It was not long after Mikey regained his senses that his family realized something was wrong.

The first indicator, and the one that worried everyone the most – especially Raph – was that when Mikey woke up, he had promptly rolled over, turning his back to the television he was addicted to. Raph had never in his life seen Mikey ignore the TV, and that frightened him. Don offered up excuses which seemed to satisfy only Leo: he was sick, he had a headache, the flickering lights hurt his eyes … But none of it made sense. There was something besides his wound that was bothering Mikey.

Other things increased their worry. Mikey never spoke. He didn't laugh when his brothers told jokes. He wouldn't eat. He refused to look anyone in the eye. This went on for five days and had everyone on edge. They knew that if Mikey didn't snap out of it soon, his health could be beyond their care.

And suddenly, everything was back to normal. Don woke up early one morning to check on Mikey and found his younger brother wolfing down cold pizza and watching a news report on the Silver Sentry. The thing that shocked Don the most (and made him question whether or not he was indeed awake) was that Mikey was smiling. Needless to say, Don had raced upstairs, laughing and yelling that Mikey was okay.

Everyone was overjoyed … but puzzled. They all wondered what Mikey had been so depressed about. None of them dared to ask, however, for fear of sending him back to his coma-like state. Mikey never brought it up either, so soon the whole incident seemed to be just a bad dream. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Before long, the only reminders of the terrifying ordeal were the scar on Mikey's leg, and the slight limp that would always serve as a memento to Leo, Raph and Don of the terrible mistake they had made.

Leo shook his head, coming back to the present. He knew that all of Mikey's brothers blamed themselves for what had happened to him—Don should have noticed the guard slip by; Raph should have been keeping an eye on the youngest turtle—but Leo still believe that it was his fault alone. He was the one who had put Mikey in harm's way.

When supper was done, the brothers sat down to spend the remainder of the evening watching television. After going around all the channels twice (arguing through it all), they finally settled on some movie that had the potential for violence. Leo couldn't focus on the film, his mind reliving the night Mikey was injured, ever searching for an alternative.

At the point in the movie where the heroine was confessing to some guy that she'd cheated on him, Mikey spoke up.

"You know," he began, unsure, "you know when I was totally bummed earlier this year?"

His brothers nodded, thankful he was finally opening up, but concerned and slightly wary of his hesitant, almost reluctant, tone.

"Well," Mikey went on, "it was because I felt really … guilty."

An astonished silence followed. Guilty? They had expected their brother to feel angry, resentful, disappointed, even rejected … but guilty? The television forgotten, Leo, Raph and Don attacked the statement.

"What are you talking about?" Don gasped.

"I don't understand …" Leo muttered.

"How da heck c'n you feel guilty?" Raph spluttered. "We're da ones who—"

"Would you guys just listen for a second?" Mikey interrupted, grinning. "Geeze, guys …" He chuckled once and then became serious. "Anyway, I spent all those days on the couch feeling sorry for myself because I messed up. I'd been about as quick as Casey is quiet. I just kept thinking … if I hadn't hesitated, if I'd rolled over faster … none of this mess would have happened, and—"

"Yeah, blame yourself." Raph rolled his eyes.

Mikey looked at him, a shamed expression on his face. "But it is my fault, isn't it? If I hadn't—"

Again, he was cut off, this time by Leo. "Mike, stop it. I'm the one who's responsible! If I hadn't thrown you the damn scroll—"

"But the goon slipped by me—" Don protested.

"Yeah, but I should have been keepin' and eye on you—" Raph argued.

As his brothers debated over whose fault it was, the hilarity of the situation dawned on Mikey. He began laughing, causing his brothers to look at him, questioning his sanity. Slowly, the arguing stopped, with Mikey still chuckling helplessly. When he calmed down, he grinned widely.

"I can't believe us!" Mikey laughed. "I mean, look at us. We're fighting over who is to blame for this whole thing when we should be comforting each other. What a bunch of idiots."

Smiles spread slowly across the features of the turtles.

"Boneheads," Raph agreed, punching Mikey lightly in the arm.

"Fools," Leo grinned.

"Ignoramuses," Don added, pleased.

The brothers looked at each other, and fell about laughing. Laughing at Don's oversized vocabulary. Laughing because it was a touching scene in the movie. Laughing because they were a bunch of dorks who argued over who was at fault. And laughing because they hadn't really laughed in a long, long time.

FINI