Chapter Fourteen
"So… are we ready for the actual stuff?" Michelangelo asked.
Leonardo shifted until he was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, hands folded in his lap. "I am ready, yup."
Mikey made a face. "Really, Leo? Slouch a little. You're making me nervous."
"He's right, Leo," said April, who had scooted her chair right next to the bed, was almost reclining, holding hands with Mikey, who was absently swinging his arm, and hers. "I'm going to start thinking of you as a drill sergeant or something."
Rolling his eyes, Leonardo slumped ever so slightly. "Better?"
Michelangelo held up his free hand and made a "come here" gesture. "Little more."
Leo scooted down a bit more. "This just feels uncomfortable."
"No, it doesn't," Mikey said cheerfully, "you're just not really used to it."
Leonardo wanted to sigh, but he realized that he actually was starting to feel relaxed and loose. "You have the oddest wisdom, Mikey," he said with an exhale.
"Yeah. I get that a lot." Grinning so broadly his eyes almost shut, Michelangelo sat up a little more, clearing his throat and lifting the hand that held April's. "Okay. First little thing."
Taking a breath, Michelangelo immediately reached for his uncertain nerves and soothed them. He could sense his brother's reluctance and his sister's excitement, but he himself had gotten a little nervous. He guessed the best thing was to just… get it right out there. He visualized his spinning ball of force, unlocked with the pentacle talisman and slowly pulled from him, letting the energy travel down his arm. After a moment, he felt April shiver.
"Whoa. Oh. Oh! Mikey? I didn't know how nervous you are," she said. "You project almost too much confidence."
He smiled at her. "So it worked? How did it feel?"
She tilted her head. "I…got a tingling feeling in my hand, and suddenly my mind was filled with a sense of anxiety that wasn't mine. I, um, I think you have a signature. There was this flash of orange light, while I was feeling the anxiety."
Leonardo said, "Huh," as Michelangelo said, "Ooh, that's interesting!"
"Mike," April nudged him gently, "stop hiding your real feelings so much; I know how it goes with comedic entertainers."
His mouth opened, closed opened again. A tiny huff escaped. Empathy! Gah! Splinter had always suspected he was an actual intuitive empath and Mikey would shrug it off until Sensei would bring up a character in his comic books who conveniently read people the way Mikey read his family. Now, he tugged lightly in an attempt to let go of April's hand. She refused.
"I mean it, Mikey," April said. "You like to hide behind jokes. And you play things up for effect. But I know you don't like it when we confront you about serious stuff."
Leonardo was watching them like a badminton spectator. He gripped his hands tightly in his lap.
With a long sigh, Michelangelo pouted. "Okay. You got me. I'm nervous and freaked out and kind of scared. I can feel things inside my brain, all heated up and tingling, and these headaches feel like a twisting muscle. And I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with it all."
"Well, isn't that what we are here for?" April asked gently, smiling.
Leonardo leaned forward, "Little brother, I can't promise anything. But I can assure you that I'll help you get back on your spiritual and metaphorical feet, as it were. I think we really need to get to the heart of his thing, though."
Blinking at him, Mike frowned, and then his eyes widened. "You don't mean – oh. Oh, not that. Nope. Not ready for that. Um. Um. Okay, we'll just start with me learning to, like, move stuff and control stuff. Easy stuff."
Leo narrowed his eyes. But he nodded. "That sounds fine. Let's started with…" and he looked around, eyes sharp, "…these books over here." He leaned down, picked up four random books and graphic novels, and held them in open hands, elbows bent.
Michelangelo tilted his head, then shrugged.
"You wanted something heavier, didn't you?" A smirk.
"Yeah, well…"
"Bro, if I have learned anything with all my strict training, it's that any untrained newly formed muscle will feel weak and atrophied when we first try to use it," Leo explained. "That first time, when you levitated everything in the room, that was most likely a fluke, a burst of power."
Michelangelo pouted. "So, you're saying that it'll be like a baby crawling?"
"Something like that," Leo said. "Just… just see what you can do when you focus."
April gave Mikey's hand a reassuring squeeze. He nodded, closed his eyes, felt for that swirling energy, that new pulsing force in his head that felt just like a muscle. As he reached out, he felt it quiver. He frowned. He opened his eyes and stared fiercely at the books in his brother's lap. They were just books! They were light! So why—
Like a weak muscle, atrophied…
He bit his lip.
It's all right, came April's voice in his head, You're really tense. Try to ease it.
Deep breath. Out through the mouth. She was right. He was focusing too hard. Let go. Be natural.
As he exhaled, the weak, shaky trail of energy pushed outward, like casting a line. He put more force into the spinning sphere and the line of energy continued. He felt it bump up against the top book. Okay. Lift the book.
He could feel a cold sweat against his skin. He could feel the bizarre chemical tingle of light against his skin. He could feel the cold throb behind his eyes. The world looked and felt extremely bright. He pushed just a little more.
That top book slid right off the pile, shot upwards, hit the ceiling, and fell toward Leonardo's head. Leo grabbed it and dropped it on the floor. "Good," he smiled. "Next."
Deep breath. Out through the mouth. Let go, be natural, cast the line, spin the sphere, extend the force. Second book shot up, narrowly missing Leo's chin, hit the ceiling, again fell, and Leo caught it. "Again," he said, smile widening.
Inhaling, Mikey glanced over at his "helper". April smiled and squeezed his hand. She looked pale. He could feel her supporting his energy. She was very pale. He shook his head, pulled his hand away. When she frowned, he whispered, "You don't look great, lemme do this." She just nodded and breathed deeply.
He turned glowing attention back to the third book, and abruptly everything surged. His torso snapped forward and the third and fourth books both took off like a shot, careening around the room, one on top of the other, whirling, before slamming into the ceiling, then a wall, then to the floor.
Oh. That was why April was holding onto him.
"Um," he said out loud. "Whoops?"
"What happened?" Leo asked.
"I let April go; she just looked exhausted." Mikey looked at April, slumped in her chair.
"It's fine," April murmured. "I'm fine, guys. It just…took more work than I had anticipated."
"It worries me!" Mike retorted. "You shouldn't have to be like… my…my channel!"
"Well, what if I want to?"
"What if I don't want to let you?"
"Guys," Leonardo said calmly, hands raised.
April stood up, a little wobbly. "Look, Mikey. This is my choice, this is absolutely my decision. Professor Honeycutt wanted me to work on my own abilities anyway. I really want to help you strengthen yours. Yes, I might get a little exhausted and drained, but I'm sure food can help with that. What I don't want is you worrying about me while you're working to control your powers. So can we come to an agreement."
Mikey's blue eyes narrowed at her. "Fine. Just get yourself some of that electrolyte juice while we do the things." As if to drive it home, he grabbed his own cup and drank forcefully, staring at her.
"Fine," she said. He handed her the rest of his drink, was she finished quickly. As he took it back, Mikey nodded, as if satisfied. "Okay, then."
"We good?" Leo asked, amused.
"Yep," they said in unison.
"All right! Now we take a break."
Mikey and April rolled their eyes. "April motioned to the empty cup. "Let's at least get more juice," she said.
"Yeah. Please. My head feels weird." Michelangelo pressed two fingers to his forehead. Uh oh. Crap. He wish he hadn't said that; something in his brain had perked up like a tiny flame. Was talking about it triggering it?
"Oh, no," April knew, "oh, god, Mikey, is there anything I can do?"
All he managed to say was "Mmrph," and flail for her hand; she grabbed it and squeezed, and "Maybe…maybe I could…"
He wanted to cry out No, April, no! but his mouth, hanging open, made no sound. Everything was foggy and also sharp. He thought he could hear a chair moving and a weight shifting. "April, is he…"
"Leo, go fill this and get another cup, please. I can stay with him."
"April-"
"Go, Leo!"
There were more words, but they were like needles along his arms and his neck and fuuuck, he couldn't move and his arms were spasming, and her hand was on his bicep, and her voice in his head, Mikey, Mikey, sweetie, can you hear me? It's okay, I'm here…
A-April, nooo, you have to…you have to get out…please…
And his brain was on fire on fire, neurons leaping, cliffs and mountains and thunder and storms and valleys, and he just wanted to curl up—
Mike, I'm here, it's gonna be okay. Take deep breaths…
He felt his breath sucking inward…
April, stop, I need you to get out, youhavetogetout…
And then there was a massive electric burst and April cried out, and he wrenched away from her, his arm flinging against his face, and for precious seconds he couldn't move, or breathe, or think.
"-il, what the hell were you trying to do? Are you sure you're okay? April! Say something!" That was Raphael.
April! Be okay! I need you to be okay!
"Mikey? Mikey, it's Don. Breathe, otouto, I need you to breathe…"
A sob escaped him and he clutched at it, managing a raspy, "April…"
"I'm okay, Mikey! I'm okay, I just got overwhelmed, I'm okay!" Her hand was on his cheek and he sighed, leaning into it.
He gulped in air greedily and felt the oxygen mask, and he felt himself relax. Someone told him to lie back, to not move. This felt good, this felt safe; he didn't want to open his eyes. He was so tired, was so so tired. The dark behind his eyes felt delicious and silky. Someone said his name again, sharply. Someone else said…something. Something about sleep? Yes. Yes, sleep! Do that! He fell, and silkiness covered him, cocooning and enveloping. Everything was now cool, and dim, and quiet, and he burrowed into the silk contentedly.
With a familiar yell, Raphael punched a wall.
"Please don't do that," Donatello said, fatigued.
"Look at him!"
"Yes. He's asleep. He's recovering."
"But I thought he was—I mean—the lessons. With Leo…"
"…were going just fine, Raph," Leonardo interjected. "He and April got a little overwhelmed, and we essentially expected all of this. Give us time. It's only the second workshop!"
Mouth opening and closing, Raphael blinked, looked at the bed, and stomped out. They could hear him continuing to stomp in wide circles.
"Everything is fine," April assured. "Really. It's all fine."
Stomp. Stomp. "Dude, Raph, will you knock it off? I'm watching 'Crognard' here!"
"I have a lot of feelings, Casey!" Stomp.
Then go for a space walk!" Go to the holodeck! You're blocking the TV!"
STOMP.
"Hey, fuck you too!"
April rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Donnie, how long do you think Mikey will sleep for?"
"Eh, a few hours, if not the rest of the day. You understand how intense that must have been."
"I certainly do. And he'll probably want to scold me when he wakes back up."
"I have no doubt."
Don scooted over to her and began a basic exam. "And you're totally sure you're okay?"
She smiled. "I am totally sure. Just a headache. I might just want something for that."
"Okay. I'll get you something. You should go rest."
"Yes, doc!" She couldn't help but giggle, and Donnie flushed and grinned his gap-toothed smile. He quickly went to a cabinet, pulled out a pill bottle, and gave her two. She took one of the filled cups from Leo and used it to wash down the pills. She took the other and brought it to the bedside. She leaned in and kissed Michelangelo's forehead. "Great work today, Mikey. We'll do it again soon. Maybe even without the seizures!"
"Yeah," Donatello said. "I need to come up with a medical protocol to prevent those, before we have to diagnose him with temporal lobe epilepsy."
April frowned and bit her lip. "When we get home," she said, "if it comes to…that…my dad could obtain prescriptions, unless there are meditation methods."
Leonardo nodded. "There are," he said, "but hopefully we won't need to worry about that until later." There was something hanging off his sentence, and they all felt it, though no one replied. They nodded, and Donatello hooked up his little brother to an IV drip for hydration, plus pain relievers. "I'll stay with him," he offered.
Leo and April nodded. "C'mon, April," Leo said, "let's set up a dojo simulation so we can train and meditate in style."
April gently pumped her fists with a soft, "Yay!" and they left the room with arms linked. Off in the distance, in a space suit, Raphael kicked and ranted at swirls of galaxies far away. The ship just kept moving forward, as ships do.