Webbed Glass
Chapter 1
Sleep, it was a release from reality. A secret heaven that kept you safe with in the boundaries of the dream scaped world. Or at least that was what it was supposed to be, for some people sleep did not bring soft, tender dreams, nor just a simple dark where the body rested. For certain minds the drift brought something something much more sinister than darkness. Dreams that weighed away from nightmares and into terrors that should not be spoken. Usually the victims would talk when asked, trying to get at last a small amount of relief from the festering hiss that plagued their waking moments. But when someone was used to it since early memories, it became hard. With each approaching night, every nodding head and heavy eye lids a foreboding feeling crawls up with twisted glee. Tempers flair, once curious eyes harden to those around in silent need to be saved but no words can escape the throat that is strangled from the inside. Insomnia soon follows with the need to direct desperation. Some drown themselves in work, others busy themselves with cleaning to keep the waking hours constant, while others work their bodies hoping that if tired enough then the terrors won't invade the dreams.
"Something's wrong with Raphael," Michelangelo whispered to himself as he watched his brother working hard on the punching bag more than he needed. Ever since he got his room back he had noticed that his red loving brother had fallen back into the habit of sleeping rarely. He had tried to make a point to Donatello in hopes that their brainiac brother could whip up something to help Raphael sleep more. When April had his room, and he had to stay in his brother's it was hard to get Raph to not sleep. He was always slumbering, snoring from time to time just to annoy his new roommate. But now that he was back where he belonged he was finding that it was... difficult not to notice the dramatic change. He would have thought this was normal if it was not for the fact that he had, indeed, spent over a good month rooming with the work-out freak. But now he saw it, the way that Raphael tried to stay awake, how he struggled each time sleep tried to claim him.
Michelangelo's body instinctively reached forward when he saw his brother shake his head, grabbing onto the punching bag for stability. "Raph," his voice squeaked in a whisper when he tried to call out to his brother who was panting, body threatening to sag to the floor. The hard floor looking rather soft to the older teen.
"Raph," the younger tried again, finally finding his normal voice though it was unusually soft.
"What?" teeth ground together in a growl.
It was late at night, their father and brothers fast asleep, enjoying their escape from the harsh reality that needed to find shoulders to bare its weight. At that moment, Raphael felt heavy with that weight. He felt as if the whole world was crushing down on him laughing at him, taunting him with the sounds of his family's soft snores and mumbles of sleep. He wanted rest, he wanted a break from everything he saw daily, from what hid behind his eyelids snickering with its evil. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, sleep in peace. He got a small taste of it when his brother was rooming with him, and it truly was bliss. He didn't understand it, when ever he tried to slip into that world of unconsciousness with Leonardo or Donatello it was always the same. His pulse was always erratic, his eyes wide from tearing himself awake, breathing deep with pants, a cold sweat reminding him that each night was like the one before. Splinter's presence did not keep the horrors at bay, his need for Raphael to become nearly perfect like his blue clad brother only made it worse. But for some reason if it was just him and Michelangelo, then it weighed away, the claws dug out of his shell and shoulders and that hateful creature that brought the night terrors would skitter back into the shadows. Unfortunately Raphael had to much pride and independence to ask if his brother would room with him once more. They were adults, young adults yes, but still adults. He could not rely on little Mikey each and every time he needed sleep.
"Um..." Michelangelo fiddled with his fingers for a moment. He wanted ask what was bothering his brother. He wanted to ask if there was anything he could do so that those bags under the eyes, so well hidden behind that red mask could just disappear. But he knew his brother better than the others, sure he hung out with Donnie a lot, and sure he would play with Leo... but Raphael was simplistic compared to the other two. His eyes were shielded but expressive, silently pleading for something, anything, to do something. He wasn't sure what his brother needed help with, he was prideful to a prejudice point, but at least he did not dodge questions or put up masks like the others.
"Mikey," Raph heaved one last pant and turned it into a sigh feeling his tired body kneel on the floor. He rubbed at his eyes trying to fight through the fog that was causing his head to spin from the lack of sleep. What was it that he was going to say? Did it matter? So tired. So very tired.
He was out of fighting spirit, drained away from what made him into the Raphael that he knew and loved. Michelangelo moved forward, coming to a stop right next to his brother, "Um... I was wondering if I could sleep in your room tonight."
"What?" his head more of lulled than moved with the usual grace they were all instilled with. Brown eyes watched blue shift from side to side in thought. He put a hand to his knee, fighting mentally once more and managed to get up on his own. Seventh day in a row with out sleep, it really wore one out. "Have another nightmare?" he asked.
"Y-yeah..." It was a lie of a sort, but then again it wasn't. He had watched his brother for the past week getting weaker and weaker because of something preventing rejuvenating rest. It was like a nightmare to see his temper flaring more and more dangerously high because he was just cranky. Hearing him and Leonardo... Mikey closed his eyes tightly, he hated the fighting it was getting frightening.
"Donnie or Leo wouldn't mind you takin' up the other half of their beds," Raphael said walking slowly trying to keep himself up right when he ventured into the kitchen to get some water.
"I uh," come on Mikey think quick. "I just don't want to wake them up, and since you're already up... I thought I would... um..."
"Fine," Raphael didn't make any more arguments like he usually would. He just turned off the light in the kitchen, the sound of the shuffle of his feet told that he nearly stumbled.
Venturing up to his room, he waited for Michelangelo to catch up before closing the door. He sat down under the hammock he had set up for himself, "Go ahead and take the bunk."
"But don't you-"
"Take the bunk!"
"Eep," Mikey clamored up, curling against a pillow and tucking under a blanket that was thick with the comforting sent of his brother. He got a stern glare in the dark until he was completely settled before a hand came down and patted him on the shoulder. The most contact he would get that was non-violent from Raphael in a month, meaning that the emerald green turtle had filled his quota, of being nice, early. He then laid down under the hammock and waited. Waited until he could hear the soft breaths of his brother falling to sleep before he let his eyes close. He jerked at the splash of red against the blue wall that was waiting for him behind his eyelids. Glancing at the clock in the corner of his room he found that he had been asleep for an hour. Odd, it felt like only a second. And why did he have a nightmare when Michelangelo was with him?
The door to his room creaked open, a sleepy Mikey stumbling in with a glass of water, his bandana was around his neck as he rubbed at his eyes. He shut the door behind him coming over to his brother. Sitting down he drank half of it before offering the rest to Raphael with out a word only an odd grunt that spoke volumes. He had woken in the middle of the night thirsty, probably downed thirty glasses of water and brought another with him for precaution's sake.
"No thanks," Raphael turned down the water that looked like it could wash away even bad dreams.
Michelangelo only drank the rest before tossing the plastic cup to the side and curling up against the source of the smell that made him fell safe. He snuggled into his new pillow forgoing the blanket that would have been nice.
"Hey, Mikey," the older of the two tried to move the younger but when he got a protesting groan he decided he was stuck, besides the grip got a little bruising when he squirmed. With a sigh he rolled onto his side to make it easier for the other, allowing lest space to between them as Michelangelo took full advantage of it. "You only get off the hook tonight, no more times, alright?" he warned the one that was on the verge of drooling in his sleep. "Right..."
He closed his eyes and drifted off once more, knowing why he had his nightmare and why it could not mature into the usual terrors.
To Be Continued…
