Once again, Kudos and thanks go out to Reijiro for all the help with the grammar and spelling and stuff. I terrible at it and she's really good at it. Thanks Chica!
"Mikey," Donatello scolded his younger brother. "Quit dissecting your food and eat something."
Michelangelo was sitting across the table from his brother. He seemed unfazed with the concern as the fork in his right hand moved the green beans around his plate. "He hates me," he muttered, his head resting on his left hand.
"Raphael does not hate you my son," Splinter tried to reassure him. "Yes he is angry, but that does not mean he hates you."
"It sure looked like it," Michelangelo sculpted a hole in his mashed potatoes and then finally took a bite. "It was weird looking," he finally admitted.
Donatello just stared. "Excuse me?" he said, in between bites.
"Raph's back," he tried to explain. "It just looks, I don't know…… strange. It was all scarred and messed up looking."
"Michelangelo!" Splinter spoke up. "Those are precisely the reasons why your brother keeps it covered," he softened his voice a little. "It cannot be easy for him to feel like he belongs when he knows how different he is."
"Sorry Sensei," the youngest apologized.
"Next time Mikey," Donatello chimed in. "Knock."
Michelangelo smiled sheepishly. "I'll try to remember that." He got up and walked over to the kitchen cabinets.
"What are you doing now?" Donatello asked.
"I'm gonna go ahead and fix Leo and Raph a plate," he explained. "They're probably gonna be hungry when they get back."
Smiling, Donatello shook his head and looked at his father. "It doesn't take him long, does it?" he whispered.
"No my son," Splinter replied. "It is a shame that humanity is not as forgiving as your brother. The world would be a much better place if it was."
"You know Sensei," Donatello put his fork down and rubbed at his chin, thinking. "As far as our current problem with Raphael," he gave his father a little grin. "I just might have the solution."
It was several minutes after midnight when two figures stood at the entrance to an elevator that led underground. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, it didn't even exist.
Quietly Leonardo stepped in and looked at his brother, lingering in the doorway. "He doesn't hate you Raph," he tried to reassure the larger turtle.
Raphael dropped his backpack on the floor of the capsule and stepped in. "He should," he said quietly as he leaned against the wall, turning slightly away from Leonardo. The elevator made a quiet hum as it descended.
"Trust me Raph, I'm speaking from experience here," Leonardo said, putting his hand on his brother's back. Not comfortable with the closeness, Raphael stepped away. Leonardo only stopped for a moment but then realized what the problem was and continued talking like nothing had happened. "Michelangelo is more forgiving than anyone else I know," he said as the doors opened and he stepped out into the lair. Looking over his shoulder he continued talking as he headed towards the kitchen. "Just don't take advantage of it, okay?"
With a silent nod, Raphael grabbed his bag and walked out into the lair. He joined his brother in the kitchen where Leonardo was already rummaging through the refrigerator.
Triumphantly, the eldest pulled out two plates covered in foil.
"What is it?" Raphael asked.
Leonardo pulled the foil off and placed a plate in the microwave. "Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans," he smiled. "My favorite."
"Works for me," Raphael got out a couple of glasses and some utensils. "Drink?"
"Milk," Leonardo answered. He placed one plate on the table and began heating up the second one.
After a good meal, Raphael headed upstairs, exhaustion finally settling in on him. As he passed by his brother's room, he noticed a faint glow leaking through a crack in the doorway. Hesitantly, he peeked in and saw his brother still up reading comic books, a half eaten sandwich sitting on the nightstand by his side. Guilt putting pressure on him, Raphael knocked lightly and waited on a response.
"Enter," Michelangelo responded, not even looking up from his reading.
Raphael eased the door open and stood in the doorway," Ummmm……..hey." Embarrassed by how he had acted earlier, his voice was just a whisper.
Michelangelo looked up from his book and gave his brother a small smile. "Hey Raph. What's up?" he asked cheerfully.
"Look Mikey," Raphael rubbed nervously at the back of his head with his left hand and took a step forward. "I just wanted to apologize…..for, you know, pushing you and all." He stopped at the end of his brother's bed and watched for a reaction.
"Don't worry about it," Michelangelo told him. "I should have knocked."
Silence hung in the air uncomfortably as Raphael tried to think of what to say next. Noticing his brother's uneasiness, Michelangelo pulled his feet up. "Take a seat," he offered.
Raphael sat on the edge, leaning his elbows on his knees. He glanced around his brother's room. Comic books were scattered about the floor with various movie posters tacked to the walls. "You know," he started. "In the two months I've been back, I don't think I've actually seen your room." He looked at Michelangelo.
"Yeah, I know," Michelangelo agreed. "It's probably because I'm always in your room," he gave a mischievous grin. "You've got all the cool toys." He laid his comic book to the side and picked up his sandwich. "Caitlin and Jake get you all that stuff?" He took another bite, waiting on is brother to answer.
"Yeah," his eyes were focused on two framed pictures hanging on the wall. He slowly got up to go look at them.
Michelangelo watched his brother and swallowed his food to continue talking. "Man, birthdays must have been a blast around your house."
"No," Raphael answered blankly. "I wasn't allowed to have birthdays." His eyes were fixated on a rubbing of a small turtle shell. There was another larger one next to it.
Not believing what he heard, Michelangelo sat up straight and looked intently at his older brother. "Not allowed to have birthdays! But …..But……How! Why!"
"I told you," he answered looking back for a second. "I just wasn't allowed to have any."
"Christmas though, you got to celebrate Christmas," he gave his brother a pleading look. "Right?"
"Nope."
"Trick or treats! You did get to go trick or treating for Halloween." Michelangelo folded his arms, certain that his brother at least got to participate in that one celebration.
"Nuh-uh."
Michelangelo sat with a blank look on his face, his last bite of sandwich dangling precariously between his fingertips. He couldn't speak. It had him dumbfounded that his brother never got to participate in what he felt were some of the most important days in a child's life.
"Hey Mike," Raphael called out, his back to his brother. When he didn't get an answer he turned and saw his brother gazing into nothingness. He walked over and waved his hands infront of Michelangelo's face. "Earth to Miiiiiiike!"
"Huh?" he looked up to his big brother staring at him with a strange expression on his face. "Why didn't you get to do the fun stuff? That's not fair," he almost whined. "I didn't think Jake and Caitlin would be that mean"
"It wasn't their decision okay? Besides you shouldn't worry about it Mike. I never did without," Raphael grinned and continued talking. "That rubbing of the shell, the small one," he indicated by jerking his head to the far wall. "You did those when we were kids, right?"
"Yeah," Michelangelo smiled as he thought back. "I think it was the Christmas after I had just turned three. Splinter found me some crayons from scavenging one night." He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. I remember I did one for all you guys. But you and Leo had to do mine."
"Only 'cause you wouldn't quit wiggling," Raphael sat back down and leaned on the end of the bed. "You still can't sit still," he scolded. "When did you do the larger ones?"
"When Donnie turned twelve. He wanted to see how much we had grown," Michelangelo explained. He became quiet as he thought for a moment. "Aha!" his eyes lit up and he sat up straight.
Raphael stared in fascination as he watched his brother jump off the bed and began digging through items in a bottom drawer. He finally pulled a sheet out from the bottom of a stack of paper.
"Here," Michelangelo spoke triumphantly, handing the sheet to Raphael. "When we had to leave our old lair, I grabbed yours and kept it safe for you."
Raphael stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He smiled as he thought about how excited his youngest brother had been over the idea of a few broken crayons and some torn sheets of paper. "I remember that Christmas," he looked at Michelangelo. "You got the paper and crayons, Donnie got some books, Leo got a plastic lion and I got some old matchbox cars. That was the last Christmas I ever had."
Michelangelo thought back and nodded in agreement. "You disappeared the following spring." His tone changed as he remembered. "Splinter went nuts trying to find you. After about a year, I think he slowed down his searches. But," he paused. "He never gave up on the hope that we'd find you again." Michelangelo eyed him curiously. He seemed to be staring at nothing. "Raph?" he questioned. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he said stretching a bit. "Just thinking is all." He gave his usual lopsided grin.
"About what?" Michelangelo drew his legs up to his chest and waited for an answer.
Raphael gave a small shake of his head and smiled. "It just seems a little weird is all," he admitted. "The last real memory I have of you is a three year old running around," he sat up. "You were this little shadow that couldn't say my name right and followed me everywhere. And now," Raphael pointed to his brother, "Now your fifteen years old," he paused. "I guess I've missed out on a lot."
"You know," Michelangelo bravely suggested pointing to the small paper in his brother's hand. "I could do another one for you. That is if you want me to."
"Another one what?" Raphael questioned, now turned so he was completely facing his brother.
"I did second rubbings for Donnie and Leo," he paused. "If you're okay with it, I could a do second one for you too." He started to talk faster so his brother didn't have a chance to argue. "I've got some large paper I could hold it up so I don't even see anything and then you could pull your shirt up. I put the paper on and you hold it. I'll never see your back just the paper." He gave his brother a pleading look, "Please?"
Raphael wanted to but didn't want to at the same time. He thought about it, weighing the options in his mind.
Leonardo finished up rinsing off the dishes; he'd offered to take care of them this time. He was on his way to his room when he heard noises coming from Michelangelo's room. Silently he walked over and peeked in, somewhat surprised at what he saw. Raphael was sitting on the end of the bed holding a large sheet of paper on his back, his shirt pulled up over his head and resting on his arms. He was sitting silently as Michelangelo rubbed a crayon over the paper, happily talking away. The scene brought a small smile to Leonardo's face. Good for you Mikey, he thought to himself. Good for you.
Read and review people. Tell me what you think. If you want to see something happen, let me know. I'll try to work it in the story. Cheers!
