Thank guys, you are still awesome for waiting patiently as I update! Ok just wanna go over a few things.

We have now reach the farmhouse and i have a few ideas on how to approach this. I will try my best not to dragged it out, but mikey's condition will take time to heal (just like any other person) so for now this is a mikey pov, so if you don't like depressing chapters sorry but its got to be done.

And don't worry leo and raph will come soon, it just gunna be a little bit longer until mikey starts to acknowledge them properly. The story is going to get more tense this chapter creates a ideal plot for you guys to think about. The pressure to bring back Mikey is on!

And lastly my deadline for uni is the 27th may, my final grade of year 3 then graduation! Wow! time does fly by! So if i'm late with chapters i'm sorry about that.


The view from the window was quite astonishing. The breeze was gentle and soft as it swirled around the trees as they whispered to the wind. The leaves gracefully leaving their nest to twirl in circles higher and higher before departing across the first light awakening from it sleep. The shades of different colours showed exotic beauty, the pink and red emerging together as the purple started to disappear for a light orange. Dawn has approached before being bathed in sunlight. The tranquillity was so peaceful and the air fresh, non-contaminated by the pollution of New York City.

It was so beautiful that your emotions were fluttering with warmth, the happiness spreading over the eyes and lips unable to hide away the widened eyes of wonder and the smile showing people's dimples. This should have been a time for curiosity to what ideas could occur on a brand new day.

If only Mikey could feel the sensation. But his heart remains unmoved and still, as he sat upright in the bedroom on the second floor, opposite a window. He feels the wind on his skin as it blows the curtains to the side. He can see the way the birds flying and hover on branches or on the grass to gather worms for their babies. And the fact he the youngest is in an unfamiliar territory, the need to explore and investigate the ways of nature should enter the energetic, imaginative mind.

But there is nothing, he feels nothing.

What you see through the looking glass with a lonely, lost teenager turtle.

He didn't know when it actually begun; it could have been since he arrived at the house two days ago. Or maybe since he decided it would be better to protect his family by rendering himself speechless.

However a part of him believe the deepest pit of his heart had reopened when the key unlocked the chain. Emotions that had been kept bolted away for many years had suddenly been released. Most didn't realise that when it came to speaking deep personal thoughts, Mikey was a little like Leo. They tended to keep their problems to themselves so to not bother their family. He had control and would continue to push it further and further down. But now it had become too much for him. This power of this depression had become too over whelming, causing an automatic major shut-down to protect himself. Now things were happening. He was seeing things that he was sure could not be possible, but they were there, as clear as day…

The phrase 'puppet on a string' seemed to be describing what he was seeing. He wished he didn't understand the horrible meaning behind such words. Because this was Mikey's new form.

He could see them, every day and every night. Thin, white, stretchy strings attached to his arms, legs, chest and even two around his head. Mikey wasn't trapped, his body moved freely as he lifted his hand to see one of them wrapped around each finger. The orange turtle didn't know where they started. They were just endlessly feeding from out of a darkness….What was pulling on the other end….?

How many were there? Maybe twenty or perhaps twenty-five, he wasn't sure. Although he knew they hadn't always been there, but now as the days numbered, he would find yet another string he hadn't noticed before. More days and suddenly they appeared, more frequently especially after he had collapse from the blood loss and punctured lung.

The concept of a broken toy on a dusty wooden shelf fitted his description. Mikey's body trembled as he tried to ignore the shiny strings trying to grasp his attention, as a glimmer of yellow shines into his monotonous blue eyes as the sun begins to rise over the horizon.

But as he watched the scene, a realization sends a shiver of despair floating around his heart.

"I'm disappearing."


On a tray was a bowl of warm chicken broth, a glass of water and two Ibuprofen tablets. After everyone had gathered around the table to eat breakfast, Donnie excused himself to bring Mikey his meal and to check on his physique. Holding on to the banister while climbing up the stairs, he walked down a corridor to the door on the right. He pondered on whether Mikey would be in a better mood, albeit nowadays it was hard to comprehend what his little brother was thinking.

Not only did he bring the food but he also shared a room with him. Never in Donnie's young life would being in the same space as Mikey be…problematic. As small terrapins they shared one room and waking up to greet the floor due to a bouncy, happy-go-lucky, morning turtle was a common occurrence. But now everything had changed. Their little brother had gone and been replaced by an inexpressive, vacant, disturbing and immovable turtle. What had they done?

On a plus side (if there was just one) this had made Donnie reflect more on his time. He was now committed to not keeping himself too busy with making robots.

Donny needed to take a breather to calm his thoughts before he turned the knob opening the door. "Hay Mikey, I brought you breakfast bro." He tried to sound brighter.

It was becoming difficult for Donny to hide his sadness as the teen continue to stare out the window. It had been the only thing he had done since he had woken up in the new room, however it was also the only entertainment Mikey got as he had been confined to bed until his stitches even that prove to be an uncomfortable decision for them to make.

The shock was clearly blatant upon Donnie and Splinter's faces as Michelangelo obeyed a direct order. No whining, no 'but I'll be so bored!', and the all-time favourite the puppy-dogs eyes, which still remained a winner at the age of sixteen. Just a simple nod as he then lay down to watch the ceiling. The shock had wasted away leaving two sorrowful figures just watching their beloved family member significantly evolve as the days went by.

He shook his head slightly hoping his brother didn't notice. "Stop thinking about the past, one step at a time, so just focus on the present".

The purple brother placed the tray on a table-top next to the bed as he grabbed the tablets and water. He sat down at the bottom waiting patiently for Mikey to notice he was there. Donnie could speak and make his sibling turn around, but what was the point? He wasn't blind to see that the older brother had entered the place and the fact the covers cringed when he sat down. This is for respect and his self-esteem. "A cruel joke, but this is no different than watching him sleep after the surgery." Patience is a virtue and luckily Donnie was that kind of turtle.

Mikey moved his head and blinked twice at his brother's appearance, a flicker of surprise to see his brother sitting in the room. "I actually didn't hear him come in. Great now I'm definitely losing it!" He scowled himself.

His purple sibling's heart ached to see that type of reaction from him. "Surprised? Yes. I believe that is what I saw. Is he surprised because he wasn't aware, or surprised that I would visit again?"

Either way it hurt. But Donnie pushed his own emotions away to concentrate on his brother, whose hands were in his lap as he gazed his face upon him. How can you look into someone's eyes and not shudder when they become tormented? The haunted coldness like a storm, which was once a spectacular shiny blue were now icy. The teen felt like he was being pulled inside the wild emotions trapped beneath the frozen ice. How could this be Michelangelo? How could this be my Mikey? He thought.

"Well, despite what I see, he has 'not' fully vanished. I still get a rise out of him emotionally…. I just have to catch them". For instance Donnie noticed that when he reached for the glass and Ibuprofen, Mikey observed his every move.

"Ok Mikey here is your first batch. I'll give you another painkiller tonight to help you relax and get a good sleep. Who knows maybe next week you might be well enough to leave and stretch your limbs. Can't be having you getting all board cooped up in here now can we?" He tried to smile again but failed. He wasn't expecting an answer but with the way Mikey's eyes narrowed a little, the genius wondered what thoughts were plaguing his little brother mind now?

Mikey shrugged trying not to show his twinge of panic. "Should I really leave this room? I can feel my body becoming numb, but, would that do any good to my brothers? Would they want to see me up and about? I-no I can't, I'll just be in the way, like always." A dark shadow quickly loomed over him, but in a blink of an eye it had vanished again.

Donnie didn't see anything, just the emotions that emerged on his brother's face. It astounded him, what should have brought some bleak bit of happiness and hope only brought a mixture of confusion and frustration that dissolved something more like grief and doleful. He didn't want to go outside!? The guilt swallowed Don as he realise he placed Mikey in a predicament. "Mikey please don't look so sad. I didn't mean to upset you" He wanted to say. "Mikey, your breaking my heart."

The silence was stiff and smoke from the soup once hot was now reduce into cold lumps. One turtle was trapped and the other struggling to reach out, so Donnie was relieved when a soft knock plastered the door, only to remember the panic written across Mikey's features. This happened the first time they arrived, a simple tap and Mikey actually jumped, his arms flying over his chest, his breath irregular. It was a sorry sight to see from his bed opposite him. "What are you seeing that scares you so much Mikey?" He wondered.

This had the purple-clad turtle come to the conclusion that Mikey was actually terrified of whoever was behind that wooden door. But the only people here was his family? In some way it was like opening into his privacy world he was now determined to keep safe and locked. However it also made sense as Mikey has not seen Leo or Raph since…well the day he fell unconscious so…the fifth day now. Whether Donnie was subconscious or perhaps desired a response, he caressingly stroked the top of his baby brother's head. The proudness itched across his expression, a feeling triumph as Mikey didn't pull away or winced at the touch.

If only the second youngest could read minds then he would have realised how palpable Mikey felt, the touches were apart of Mikey. The little guy loved hugs and brushes up against his siblings and father for affection, but now they seem far away. Despite his mental well-being this is actual proof that their baby of the family was still clinging to life, as he didn't restrain against his brother's palm.

"It's alright Mikey, no one is here to hurt you." He said reassuringly. He could tell by the lightness of the tap that it was only Splinter.

Correct in his assumption, Donnie released his hold to move towards the door to find their rat master waiting there. After briefly greeting one another, Donnie whispered in his ear, giving him the medicine before waving goodbye to Mikey as he left the room. He chanced a backwards glance at his father. If anyone had a shot at bring Mikey out if this depression, it was him. The rat slowly approached his smallest child by sitting on a chair he grabbed from the side.

"Hello Michelangelo" he said in a quiet manner. "Donatello told me to give you some more medication for the pain. Would you like to take them now or later?"

The tensions in his body loosen once he recognized his sensei. If it was one of his other brothers…No don't think about them yet, still too raw. Mikey didn't answer, not like he ever would anyway as he grabbed the glass and poured the water in his mouth to swallow them, after Splinter put it back on the table, he saw his son stared back out the window as the sun shined dazzling the walls with a lighter-tone of brown. Splinter watched his son in curiosity and in an unexpected way. Michelangelo did this before when he came in the evening yesterday. The teen would give a small nod before finding fascination with the quilt and then peering at the orange and red horizon.

He was trying to put together the pieces in Mikey's mind back together, only…the pieces had changed their shape and no longer fitted in place. The heart-ache to find his son who wouldn't even look at him was powerful. However he had gotten a glimpse of his child, whose shows signs of the real Michelangelo. They were as quick as trying to catch a fish, slippery and slimy but still there too capture. This son had hidden his feelings quite well but Splinter knew better, if only a father could repair and restore the detriment developed inside his boy's mind and soul.

"I am here Michelangelo; I hope I can hear your voice again soon" He thought dejectedly.

At that Splinter was suddenly startled to see a small jerk escape his son's body and discover a vibration of his own. For the first time since they had arrived here, Michelangelo slowly shifted to stare at his father. His eyes were widened, a tremor shaking his figure.

It was an assumption. Splinter had to be sure. So he tried again. "Michelangelo, can you hear me?"

The boy pushes his head halfway in his shell. Splinter raised his hand ready to console him, but a meek voice enters in his mind.

"Sensei?"

The word flabbergasted would be the best word to describe Splinter right now. He suddenly gasps, quickly covering his mouth. The fact his youngest child can read his thoughts should be absurd, ludicrous and yet it felt so very real. And why couldn't it be? After all didn't Splinter say from the beginning that Mikey had raw talent? Talents that can surpass him on many levels made the rat feel appalled for not even suggesting his sons could actually attempt to reach deep inside themselves and gather knowledge to read ones thoughts. It was just, well, if he had been expecting any of his son's to get develop this gift first, it would have been Leonardo…

Although the reason why he was astounded by the news was because it takes time and it requires durability and stability. At the moment these were the three qualities Michelangelo did not possess and yet, he had managed to achieve what took him many years before the turtles were even born. How is that possible? So what did this mean? What had happened or was happening within Michelangelo to trigger this miracle gift so quickly?

To assume he was always right was not a valid solution, but the rat did have a habit of being accurate. He should check again to make sure.

"My son you can hear me, is this correct?"

Popping out of his shell, Mikey slowly dipped his head as though in shame. "Yes Sensei, I hear you."

Mikey was baffled by the facial features presented on his sensei. He looked mystified and bemused when hearing his voice. In a silent panic he tried to gain control, to keep his breathing in check, to stop the shakiness his hands struggling to maintain. Then just like that, his thoughts again turned dark. He didn't want them to, but they did anyway as the memories prepared and ready to play.

A screw up!

It would be better if you didn't speak at all!

Don't you want to keep your family safe? The voice from somewhere whispered.

"I'm talking! Oh no I can't! There'll be mad and they'll hate me even more. I have to stay quiet otherwise I will hurt them!" Mikey's control had disappeared allowing the frail, breakable child to break free. The tears firmly ready to cascade down the cheeks as the orange turtle brought his knees up and placed his head on them. But in that anxiety moment Mikey had forgotten that Splinter's thoughts were connected to his.

The father ears shot up, the brownie red eyes full of agony and despair listening to his baby's words. Oh Michelangelo it is definitely not true.

"Michelangelo?"

Splinter flinched recognizing the rejection as his son tried to escape out his mind.

"I-I'm s-sorry sensei, B-but its n-no good. I am n-no good. My v-voice only brings d-disaster. I can keep my f-family safe if I s-say nothing."

Warm tears ran down furry cheeks. It had become too much for the old age rat. A powerful gift, although this raised questions of concern, it was still something that should have been a reason for celebration, but instead had delivered a loud and clear message of despair and failure of him as a father.

Lowering his face in anguish, Splinter begun to believe that his son might never return to normal. Wiping away the wetness he frown punishing himself for believe such nonsense. Yes it will take a lot of time but it can be done. But what can he say to bring his beloved youngest boy out of the pit of darkness that had started to swallow him? The father was ready to invade his son's disturbingly comfort zone by placing his furry hand on top of his head.

The jump was to be expected, the trembling and uncertainty as Michelangelo lifted his head. The fear surrounding his dark blue orbs left a coldness piercing his soul. None of his children should be afraid of him. Splinter leaned forward to face his son's jittery form. His posture was tense and apprehensive, his hands still hadn't detached from the head even as the father placed his own in between. He knew these symptoms, and the horrific thought shattered the ice cutting up his heart in pieces.

These were symptoms of a child afraid of being punished. Never as a human did he discipline someone who didn't deserve a lesson. And as a rat it was the same, he circled his thumb smoothly reassuring his son hoping to ease his pain.

"My son, I love you very much. You understand that I will never hurt you? You are my child who I cherish and would give my life to protect".

A glimmer of hope flickered within Splinters as Michelangelo stared at him. Yes, a tiny light of blue met his sight, only for the burden to quickly return as the light was enveloped by the dark again. It was almost like his son was here, just for a second and then it snatched him away dragging him back into the gloom. Michelangelo started sobbing. He turned on his side away from his father extracting his hand.

"Son?"

Hiccupping and having difficulty breathing, Mikey shook his head wrapping his arms round his legs in a form of security. Splinter stepped back feeling exhausted and overly emotional. Didn't his son believe him? Why would he think his father didn't love him? His voice was weak, but his ears caught the sentence.

"I-I'm sorry p-please don't be m-mad. I know y-you do, but I don't k-know how y-you could? I'm n-no good, just a b-bad u-ugly egg. Sensei p-please I like t-to be a-alone!"

Splinter's hand was hovering above Michelangelo, wanting to bring him into a hug, whisper loving words and songs to free the tortured soul. But he couldn't, his son was inconsolable. A nagging feeling that was just pushing him away….He could feel it, the orb ready to deliver another crack, more darkness spreading. It was faint, but at that moment he could have sworn to have seen a shadow swiftly pass over his son. Was it his imagination? Was it a trick of the light from the sun outside? Splinter fur spiked. Something was going on here? Something was here that shouldn't be…..Best to be cautious just in case.

He stepped away. With an agonizing decision Splinter quickly walked outside into the corridor, he mentally prepared himself, keeping control as Michelangelo quiet cries echo just outside the door frame. He was so close and yet still so far away. With a sigh he ambled down the stairs, making his way to the living room, his three oldest Leonardo sitting on the sofa next to Raphael and Donatello sitting in the arm chair reading the same page since Splinter went to see Mikey. His presence was known when his purple son stared up from the book.

"Sensei!" he exclaimed.

The other two got up, their expressions were attentive and apprehensive as Donatello spoke.

"Sensei, how did it go?"

There are times when Splinter wished he could lie. Seeing the hopefulness and confidence that their father would be able to bring their brother back. But it was too soon and they had a long way to go before their smiling bright-eyes brother would return to them. And there was something else. Something he wasn't sure about yet but his youngest son had somehow instantly developed an ability to read minds. This was something Splinter knew he must keep this to himself, at least for the moment. His aura was now wide open to the world of spiritual realm and beyond. But this also meant that Mikey's mind was now very vulnerable and exposed. He would have to learn how to protect it, because Splinter knew that there was things out there, waiting in the dark to feed on colourful and innocent minds like Michelangelo's. On the other hand he couldn't be sure. It was just a shadow after all… he would keep a close watch.

Crestfallen Splinter bowed his head. "I am sorry my sons, but Michelangelo is far too deep. It is going to take a lot more than apologizing, he is becoming inconsolable, broken-hearted. Believing that he doesn't deserve our love -"

He heard a gasp from behind to see April leaning against the wall, Casey behind her as they tried to comprehend what they heard.

"Y-you don't think that's true right Master Splinter?" she whispered.

There was no answer. They were losing their baby brother. Raph clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles white from non-circulation. "No way" he growled. He gritted his teeth, looking like an angry bull ready to charge. "No way are we going to let that happen sensei! I learned my stinking lesson. I – I take full responsibility. I planted the seed. Now I am gone a rip that tree up from the roots and toss it away! We need him Sensei, all of us". Downcast in misery Splinter moved gripping Raphael's shoulder.

"My son we all played a part in this. Please do not dwell so much on what cannot be done. Instead focus on what you can do for him".

Unfortunately that did not reassure Raphael. What can he do besides get angry? Crossing his arms the second son sat back down with a forlorn look.

"Master Splinter can we see him?" Leonardo asked politely yet eager. Raphael caught his attention as well.

"Please Sensei. We have to make this right. Let us see him." Raph agreed but Splinter with a heavy heart held up his hand. It was too soon. Mikey was too fragile. Not to mention with his new abilities, there was a chance he would become over whelmed and close up in on himself even more. Their faces clouded with disappointment when their father declined.

"Although this does not sound wise, but right now Michelangelo needs time alone and for your own well-beings I suggest you handle him with caution and resolute. However at the moment Michelangelo still will not see anyone expect myself or Donatello."

It sadden him to see his sons, Leonardo looking so dishearten, while Raphael stared at his lap, the blame radiating off of him. Donatello wanted to comfort his brothers but what justice would it do at this time, everyone was feeling the turmoil.

Splinter placed his arms behind his back before walking to the window. There was so much to think about. Was there more going on with Michelangelo than he first suspected? All Splinter knew for sure was that the start of a beautiful day had changed into a ferocious storm. But he hoped that while it may be vicious now, he prayed in solemn that the storm would release it rage and divert into a calm wind and hopes that there would a shining glow at the end.