The evening passed without a word between brothers, each only emerging from their rooms in the dawning of the day. They drifted into the kitchen again, it seemed to be the place that they spent the most time together these days. Don was sitting at the table and looked up when he heard Mike's door squeak open. It was nice to see him up on his feet again, and seemingly none the worse for wear. He actually looked a little better as he stretched and he walked into the kitchen, smiling. Don couldn't remember the last time he had seen his brother really smile. Mike pointed at his mouth and held his hand out, palm-up.

"Hungry?" Leonardo asked from where he stood at the stove. "Want some oatmeal?"

Mike put his finger in his mouth and mock-gagged himself.

"How 'bout some grits, then?" Raphael asked, sitting down and throwing a huge spoonful of butter on his own hominy.

Michaelangelo smirked and walked to the freezer. The others watched with curiosity as their brother rooted through the variety of frozen food within.

"Hey, hey!" Don admonished. "Soft food only, remember?"

Mike shut the freezer and turned around, a half-gallon of ice cream in his grip. He grabbed a spoon off the dish rack on his way to the table and flopped down into an empty seat. Smiling, he began to shovel the ice cream into his mouth.

The other three shared a look and a smile, it certainly seemed as if Mikey was returning to his old self. Donny sat back and sipped on his coffee, focusing his eyes on the rapidly-vanishing frozen treat. He didn't know what had caused this sudden shift in attitude, but he was glad it had finally arrived. Don leaned back farther - a bit too far. His chair tipped back and he crashed onto his shell, his coffee cup flying from his fingers and clattering to the floor - the brown liquid quickly soaked into the concrete.

"Score one for ninja reflexes," Raphael said, reaching down and offering his embarrassed brother a hand up. Don took the offer but stuck his tongue out. "Ooh, snappy comeback," Raph said sarcastically.

Donatello put the chair upright and sat down, looking over at Leo who was stirring his still-cooking oatmeal and smiling despite himself.

"Et tu, Leo?" Don joked.

Don shifted his gaze to Mike. The other turtle's expression had fallen and he was absent-mindedly dipping his spoon into his softening ice cream.

"What's wrong, Mikey?" Donatello asked, leaning over and picking up the miraculously unbroken coffee cup.

Mike looked up suddenly, as if the sound of his own name had surprised him. His spoon fell to the table and melted ice cream spattered across the top. He looked at the mess and then into each of his brothers' faces, one-by-one. He sighed and waved his hand as he stood, returning the ice cream to the freezer and throwing the spoon into the sink as he walked silently out of the room.

"Now what's wrong?" Leo asked, turning off the stove and pouring his oatmeal into a bowl. He sat down in the seat Mike had just vacated and grabbed some maple syrup, pouring it over the steaming cereal. "It looked like he was doing better, what just happened here?"

"Got me," Don said, leaning his elbows on the table.

Raph shrugged. "It's going to take him a while to get over it all the way, that's all. Give it time."

He looked at their faces. They didn't believe him. He didn't, either.

-

Mike pushed his door shut and latched it, resting his forehead on it for a few seconds before making his way to his bed and flopping down. He hadn't needed to see that - but he did. He saw him fall back, he heard him hit the ground. Donnie... the cop - he saw them both. He knew it was Don that fell back in the kitchen, but it was the cop's face that was superimposed over his brother's body. A flash of light revealed the young boy's frightened features. Again - it was beginning to hurt again.

Michaelangelo reached under his mattress and pulled out the needle and bundle, he gritted his teeth and balled his fist around them. No, he wouldn't do it again. He had been stupid to try it the first time, he wouldn't do it again. Not again. He threw the drugs and syringe across the room and they bounded off the wall, coming to rest in plain sight on the floor. He stared at them for a few seconds then leaned over the side of his bed, picking up a pile of books that he kept there for late-night reading. He threw them on top of the damning objects so he wouldn't have to see them, so he couldn't look over and watch as he was taunted by them. He buried his face into his pillow and bit down on the fabric.

He wouldn't do it again, no matter how much it hurt. He could take the pain, he was strong. He wouldn't...

He looked up at the pile of books and could just see the corner of the plastic bag sticking out from under one of them. He turned his face away and then looked back, it seemed closer now, almost to the point where he could reach out and touch it. But he wouldn't, he didn't need it, he...

...he hurt...

-

Two weeks later
May 15

Raphael readied himself for the attack... he loved this stuff. A green foot flew at his head and he dodged out of the way, grabbing Donatello by the ankle and throwing him towards a wall. Don spun in mid-air and launched himself off the bricks, aiming his foot for his brother's midsection. Raphael parried but Don countered with an elbow to his face, sending him tumbling to the blue practice mat.

Leonardo clapped once and held up a hand. "This round's to Don," he announced. "That's two-to-two. Next round wins."

Raphael growled under his breath as he stood and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. He pointed at Don and smiled crookedly. "You're mine, tentori-mushi."

"Heh... I may be a bookworm, but I'm still gonna' kick your ass."

Raph sneered and bowed to Don, who returned both gestures. Leo clapped again and the two opponents attacked at once. Raph went into a flying kick which his brother was easily able to duck beneath. Don spun around to strike but Raphael was not behind him, where he should have landed. There was a noise above his head and he looked up as the other ninja swung down on a climbing rope and contacted his surprised brother with a foot to the mouth. Don fell back onto his rear and Raph soared off the rope, laughing as he landed.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" he said, giving Don a hand up.

"You cheated."

"There's a difference between cheating and fighting dirty," Leo said, shrugging. "The move was legal, if underhanded. Round to Raphael."

A smug expression crossed Raph's face as he and Don bowed again to one another. "Better luck next time."

"My turn."

The three looked towards the door on the other side of the room when they heard Mike's rough voice. His throat was well on it's way to healing and he had been speaking for a week, even though Don had instructed him that it would be best if he kept verbalizations down to a minimum. That instruction was quickly ignored in the ill-tempered manner that had become Mike's trademark recently.

"Hey, kid," Raph said. "Care to rumble with the winner?"

"You know it," Mikey said, stepping onto the mat.

Leonardo wasn't sure if this was a good idea; Mike hadn't been exercising lately and it had been over a month since his last sparring session. He was out of practice and still a little weak - and Raphael had never been one to pull punches.

"Maybe you should do some warm-ups first."

Mike glared at him. "What, Leo? You don't think I can take it?"

"I didn't say that."

"The hell you didn't," he looked over at Don. "I suppose you think I should go play it safe somewhere, too."

Donatello pursed his lips. Mike's attitude was beginning to rival Raphael's, who's own had strangely eased back. At first the guys had made concessions, taking a cautious approach to Mike's volatile mood shifts in the hopes that they would end as his body healed itself. But they just grew stronger, his attitude changing like New England weather each time one of his brothers came near. He refused to participate most of the time - he hadn't even put on his mask or belt or pads once in the past month.

"Do whatever you want to," Don said, his tone angrier than he'd have liked. He sat down on a bench and crossed his arms.

Mike looked at Leo and tilted his head, waving his hand towards Donatello. "See, there you have it: the genius says I can fight," he said in a cocky voice. "Now, if you don't mind..."

Leonardo nodded reluctantly and the combatants bowed to one another, he clapped and the round began.

"Just don't try that rope shit with me," Mike told Raph, taking a stance. He jumped forward, aiming his kick for the knee.

Raphael side-stepped and the other turtle flew past, landing on his feet and pulling himself into a roundhouse kick bound for his brother's head. Raph tilted back and grabbed Mike's foot as it passed within an inch of his face then looped his foot behind Mike's knee, making the turtle fell onto his shell. Leo clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the all-too-short fight.

"Round to Raphael," he said.

Mike scrambled to his feet and started walking towards the door without a word. Raph grabbed him by the arm gently.

"Hey, take it easy," Raphael said. "It's just a session, don't take it personal."

Mike spun around with his fist, connecting with his brother's eye in an enthusiastic, yet ultimately pathetic punch. It didn't hurt, but Raphael flinched and let go and Michaelangelo stormed out the door without looking back. When he was gone Raph turned to the others, they each had an expression that asked what, exactly, had just happened.

"What did I do?" Raph asked.

Don shrugged. "What has any of us done to him lately? He's just mad at the world."

"I've got to hand it to you though, Raph: you've been behaving yourself ," Leo said.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, one of me is enough around here."

"Has anyone tried talking to him?" Donny asked.

The room fell silent as they all felt a little embarrassed at the fact that none of them had said more than a few words to him. The times they had tried to speak to him he tuned them out, staring past them or walking away while they spoke. He wanted them to leave him alone, so they did.

"I'm going to go... you know," Raph motioned towards the door with his head. "Try and talk to him."

"Good luck," Leo sighed as his brother headed out the door.

Don looked over at Leo and blinked. That said enough.

-

Mike closed his eyes as he pulled the needle out of his arm. He was beginning to feel better again, he wasn't so mad at Raphael anymore. He laid down on the floor and enjoyed the sensation of a thousand fingers crawling over his skin, soothing away the ache. It had been so hard to draw up the courage to do it at first, but it had gotten a little easier each time. He didn't feel guilty about doing it any more - it helped, it made the pain go away for a while. Of course, the pain would return - but then he would do it again. No problem, he could handle it. He hadn't known that it would be so easy just to make everything feel better. He smiled to himself, he didn't know why people said that it was addictive, he didn't need to do it, he could stop doing it if he wanted to - he just didn't want to. It wasn't hurting him, it wasn't going to kill him... he had it all under control...

There was a knock at the door. He didn't care.

"Mike? You in there?"

Who's that? Raphael?

"Look, Mike... I'm sorry about the fight."

Fight?

"Can I come in? I want to talk to you."

"So, talk," Mike said, getting to his knees and laughing. He picked up the needle and zip-locked bag and put them in the toilet tank, a good enough place for the time being. He'd put it back under his bed later. He liked having it under his bed...

"I mean face-to-face."

"Go find someone else's face, mine's busy," Mike reached into the tub and turned on the hot faucet, lifting the lever that activated the shower. He stepped under the scalding water and shivered. It felt good

"I'm serious, Mike!" .

Michaelangelo put his head under the water... a thousand fingers...

Raph knocked on the door and the knock turned into a pound. There was a pause and then a loud crash as Raphael kicked through the wood and stormed into the bathroom. He threw open the curtain and steam billowed out of the shower stall.

"C'mon in, the water's fine," Mike joked.

Raphael put his hand under the water and pulled it out, yelling, "Shit! What the hell are you trying to do to yourself, Mike?" He turned off the shower and pulled his brother out by the arm. Mike laughed as Raph pushed him to sitting on the closed toilet lid and began toweling him off.

"Wazza'matter, you never took a hot shower before?"

"That was insane, Mike... real fucking insane!" Mike tried to stand but Raph pushed him back onto the seat. "I'm not done with you!"

"C'mon, what's the problem here? I wanna' take a nap, I'm tired," Michaelangelo mumbled.

Leo and Don appeared in the smashed doorway and eyed the other two curiously.

"What happened?" Leo asked.

"Beavers," Mike said, laughing again. "Big fucking beavers - they love the taste of bathroom doors."

"He was taking shower - hot water only," Raph said, ignoring Mike's misplaced humor. "Don, c'mere and take a look at him, will you?"

Donatello walked up and put his hand on Mike's arm, it was hot and there was a brown-red tinge to the skin. "It looks like a first-degree burn - like a sunburn."

Leonardo stepped up to Mike and kneeled down, looking him in the eye. "What were you thinking?"

"I needed a shower."

"You're going to need more than a shower by the time I get done with you," Raph said.

Leo stood and grabbed Raph and Don by their arms, leading them to the opposite end of the room.

"Okay, that's the limit," he said. "Don, do you have any idea why he's acting like this?"

Don didn't want to answer but forced himself to, anyway. "All I can figure is that the attack left him with permanent neural damage. Unfortunately there's no way to tell. No yet, anyway."

"Then when?" Raph pressed.

"I can't say."

Leo rubbed his chin and looked over at Mike, who was rocking back and forth and humming. "We're going to have to keep a close eye on him."

"You mean we have to stay with him all the time?" Raph asked.

"No, just stay alert. He won't get any better if we smother him."

Raphael didn't say what he was thinking; he had his own theory and it didn't have anything to do with neural damage. But so far he had no proof, just observations and half-forgotten lessons, it wasn't enough yet - he couldn't tell the others what he thought, not without hurting Mike with the accusation. He stared at his brother, who looked up at him and grinned.

"What about that search you were doing a couple weeks back, Don?" Leo asked. "Did anything ever come of that?"

"Nothing."

"Maybe you should look again. Something new could have developed since then."

Donatello nodded. "I'll get right on it."

Leo turned to Raph. "Take Mike to his room and make him lie down," he instructed.

Raph rubbed his eyes. "I'm not so sure he'll go to sleep."

"That doesn't matter, I want him to settle down."

"Easier said than done."

Leonardo looked at the shattered door at their feet. "I'm going to clean this up and then I'll help you with the search, Don."

"I can use all the help I can get."

Mike was sitting still now, staring at the floor. Raphael looked at his face and saw a tear in the corner of his reddened eye. Another mood shift, another attitude... another piece of evidence that Raphael wished he could ignore.