Shoutout to azure_frost and Clockwork's Apprentice for being my betas for this!
This is my first TMNT fic, and I'm excited to share it with everyone.
Enjoy!
Prologue
"How's he lookin'?" Raphael's voice slices through the silence that had fallen inside the vehicle. They're on the highway now, just outside the city- a good three hours before they arrive in Northampton.
"He's stable, if that's what you're asking," Donatello tries to keep his tone soft and reassuring, but it's difficult to do when he's in his medical mindset. "He has a concussion, severe bruising around the throat- thankfully no damage to his windpipe, since he's breathing just fine- minor cuts and bruises all over, and-," He gulps, eyeing the bandages taped to his plastron. "Let's just say he's lucky he has armor."
Mikey hugs Raphael's arm even tighter, avoiding the sight of Leo's unconscious body before him. Raph pats his head gently, deciding that, at least for the next few days, comforting his brothers will be placed before his pride.
Donnie begins unravelling Leo's padding and wraps, still damp from fighting in the snow, he assumed. He tried to take them off first, but they were nearly frozen solid! Getting Leo warmed up was his sole focus then, fearing the possibility of hypothermia. Now, with his overall vitals stable and injuries dealt with, he can work on getting his eldest brother out of his wet gear.
But upon unstrapping Leo's right knee pad, his breath hitches as a cold dread settles in the pit of his stomach.
"Oh no…"
"Why is he in the tub again? How is that supposed to help him?" Casey asks as he cleans his 'new' tools. He found them next to the workbench in the barn: old, dirty, and ready to leave retirement. One wouldn't think that he'd want to start tinkering away at something so quickly, but he needs the distraction after all that just happened.
Donnie sighs, looking up from his research on the barn's old desk. "It's for a few things. One, to keep him warm, two, to keep him hydrated, and three… Well, he'll be easier to clean," He says that last part with just a hint of awkwardness. This isn't their first time dealing with unconsciousness in their family, and they know that while your brain may not be functioning properly, your body still is. Normally though, they've always woken up at least a day or so later.
Right now, they're nearing on day four, and he's been harboring every worst possible outcome in that big brain of his.
He's spent night and day researching the possibilities as to why his brother is still dead to the world, hoping that something else would catch his eye besides the glaringly obvious answer.
He doesn't want to say it aloud, or even admit it to himself. Leo's head injury couldn't possibly be the cause, it's too minor! And while he may not have any of his medical tech with him right now, he's sure that there's not any sort of bleeding in Leo's brain. The worst wound would definitely be his right leg, and Donnie's not a hundred percent sure that he properly took care of it.
Putting his leg back into place was easy enough, but Don could feel that there was more to the damage than he could see. Worse, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Whether Leo's knee or shin was fractured, or if his ACL was torn, Donnie had no idea.
He'll have to deal with that problem when he's actually able, and when that's going to be, he doesn't know.
Too many things I don't know!
He silently groans, realizing he's spaced out again as Casey says his name for the tenth time. He knows he needs to sleep, but the only thing that's on his mind is how to fix Leo.
And the guilt that this was probably his fault in the first place.
"Yo! Earth to Donatello!" Casey's greasy hand waves in front of his tired face. "You good, dude?"
"Peachy," He bites out. He tries returning to his research, stubbornly attempting to keep his eyes open as another yawn makes itself known. NO! No sleep, not yet! Leo needs you!
"Dude, I know I talk a lotta shit about your face, but you actually look exhausted. Maybe try resting up a bit?" Casey's hand hovers over his rival's shoulder, unsure if any sort of contact would be welcome. He's been jumpy as of late, acting like his nerves are on fire, and Casey would rather not receive a punch from the hot-wired genius.
Donnie shoots him a tired glare. "I don't need sleep, I need results. I need answers! Argh!" His hands fly to his head, pressing down hard on his temples. "I have no idea what I'm doing or what we're going to do next! Everyone's counting on me to fix him and I-I…" He takes a shuddering breath and releases his head, his palms landing harshly on the worn desk. Casey doesn't say a word, either startled by his outburst, or waiting for him to finish what's on his mind.
He wishes he wasn't the smart one for once.
Being intelligent can only do so much. It doesn't make him a miracle worker, it just helps him understand and explain difficult things. Things that, normally, he'd enjoy talking about. Theories, formulas, technology, inventions- those are easy for him to grasp and explain to others.
But this? He's going to hate having to explain this.
"I'm calling a family meeting."
Mikey sets down a glass of water and a sandwich in front of him; a subtle show of love. Donnie mumbles a quiet 'thank you' and sips the lukewarm liquid. He has trouble swallowing past the lump in his throat. He doesn't think he'll be able to eat tonight.
"Donnie, have you been sleeping?"
His bloodshot eyes roam to the red-head sitting quietly next to him, her brows furrowed in worry. The usual lie almost leaves his lips, but quickly dies in his throat.
He can't lie to her anyway. She can see right through him.
"N-not… Not as much as I should, to be honest…" He whispers. He weakly motions to the stack of papers sitting in the middle of the dining table, choosing to drop the bomb and get this over with before his facade falters. "I've looked into everything, and I've come to a conclusion."
He catches Raphael flinching at his spot against the entryway. His big brother can tell something's bad when Donnie uses his apathetic voice.
Disconnect. State the facts. Deal with the emotions later.
Raph's eyes slowly sweep from the ground to meet his own across the room. Anxious. Somber. Dreading.
His voice is softer than usual when he pushes Donnie on, "And?"
The silence lays thick in the room, everyone holding their breaths for his answer.
He clears his throat, "I'm not sure why, but Leo has not reacted to any sort of stimuli in the last four days," He swallows, the lump feeling bigger than before. "Which means that he's comatose, and I don't know when he'll wake up."
Raphael's eyes slide shut as he sucks in a harsh breath. Mikey doesn't make a sound, his shiny eyes intensely staring at Donnie's papers. April rests her small hand on Don's as Casey hangs his head low.
Silence settles upon them once again, but not for long.
"What are we gonna do now?" Mikey's question rings out, more childlike than they've seen him in a long time.
They can't really blame him.
Donnie's throat feels parched. When did it go so dry? He takes another sip of his water. Focus. Form a plan. You can do this.
But he's interrupted.
"Isn't it obvious? We wait."
He looks back at Raphael, slightly shocked by his reply. Usually, the guy preferred to charge head on into any problem. He's never been one to be patient, especially not one to stand on the sidelines as a problem slowly solves itself. A big change in his character.
Oh great, we're already accommodating to a life without- Uh oh. That thought's not supposed to be there. Leo isn't dead! Calm down! He still has a high chance of waking up!
And that final thought brings forth renewed determination. A calculated chance. Hope.
He grasps it desperately, giving him the strength to speak before he can be interrupted again.
"Yes, we'll have to wait and monitor him. He very well could wake up in the next week, give or take a few days," He quickly stands, grabbing his dry erase board and marker from the fridge. "We'll need to take care of him as best as we can. I already have all the information we need to do so, and a list of items I'll need from the store. Now, it's simply a matter of assigning tasks," He pauses, turning to glance at everyone's hopeful faces. "That is, if you all don't mind…"
A chorus of voices pipe up all at once.
"Of course!"
"Obviously!"
"I don't mind at all!"
Donatello softly eyes the brother that stayed silent. "Mikey, do you want to help? It's okay if you don't."
The youngest gently shakes his head no. A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he tries to speak, "I don't think I can look at him right now, D. It… scares me."
Donnie walks over to him, resting a hand on his little brother's shoulders. "Don't worry, there's plenty you can do without seeing him. Would you like to do that instead?"
Mikey's wide eyes meet his own, and he urgently nods his head. "Anything for Leo, bro!"
The beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of Don's mouth, feeling a spark of admiration for Mike's tenacity to always bounce back. A source of optimism and joy in the face of harsh realities.
They're going to need it now more than ever.
But Donnie isn't going to let this problem solve itself on its own anyway. Miracle worker or not, he's fixing this.
No matter how long it takes.
He resists the temptation to throw the stupid test tube at the barn's wall. Another waste of time. Another failure. Maybe the days of work and little sleep are finally starting to break him. Maybe that's why he's so bad at this right now.
It's been two weeks.
Two weeks without Leo waking up earlier than anyone to train and drink his favorite tea. Two weeks without Leo telling everyone he'll be meditating for a bit, a subtle way of asking everyone to keep it down. Two weeks without Leo reminding him to take a break when he gets lost in a project, or sparring with Raph to distract him from his pent up rage, or playing a game with Mikey to help him burn off some of that extra energy.
Two weeks that Raph has spent almost every waking moment on a shoddy stool next to Leo's tub, sometimes even nodding off on it when he's too anxious to sleep outside the room. He only takes breaks whenever it's someone's turn to do a task. They've told him that Leo doesn't need a constant eye on him, but they let him stay anyway. They've seen the stress that eats at him when he doesn't know how Leo is doing at that very moment. He imagines the worst every time.
Two weeks that Mikey has spent focusing every fiber of his soul on being their ray of sunshine, even going so far as to cook for them, do the household chores, and take care of the chickens. None of them complain about him hogging the TV; he deserves that much to himself.
Two weeks that April and Casey have spent trying to support them all, driving out every other week in the rough winter weather for odd jobs and grocery runs. Shoveling snow for their neighbors' long winding driveways has been quite the money maker here, since lots of the locals are on the older side.
Two long, long weeks.
His eyes burn as he marks a red X on the sixth failed experiment. Mutagenic medicine.
It's not the first time he's thought of making it, but it's been sitting on the back burner for quite some time. Now is the perfect chance for him to try and use it- to heal Leo, to get his family back together, and to save their city.
But who is he kidding? Reality had smacked him hard across the shell just last week. There haven't been any changes, despite nearly all of his brother's injuries perfectly healing up.
Leonardo's chances of waking up any time soon are now slim to none.
And as much as his logical side is screaming for him to just give it a rest, another part of him, one he's not used to feeling, claws its way past it. It tells him to pour every ounce of his soul into defying logic, the very logic that he and his family defies just by existing.
He glares at the half empty canister of mutagen. The sole defier of all human logic.
Maybe a nap will do him some good.
Michelangelo rubs tiredly at his crusted eyes. He's only just started getting used to waking up this early to feed the chickens. It isn't too difficult anymore, at least. The little terrors used to just attack him and the bag before they settled on a routine.
Routine.
He's a part of another routine, one he tries to ignore.
It was hard enough to be there as everyone was assigned different chores, just everyday things that they'd have to do for Leo.
Thankfully, all he has to do is throw a certain amount of foods that Donnie listed for him into a blender twice a day, then hand it off to April and Donnie. They're in charge of feeding Leo, since it has to be done so carefully. Raph's in charge of cleaning him up and changing the water, mostly because he's the only one strong enough to lift him alone. Casey helped at first, but ended up focusing on earning money and fixing different issues around the house- with everyone's support, of course. It's something they've needed someone to do anyway.
Mikey got off easy. He just makes the food, washes the dishes and laundry, and feeds the chickens. When he has alone time, like while Donnie works in the barn (almost always), and Raph's in the bathroom (almost always), and April and Casey are out trying to earn money, he just watches anything he can on the TV.
Reruns and game shows are the best channels so far, but he won't lie and say he doesn't get restless. If it wasn't still cold, he'd take the chance to spend as much time outside as possible. He could go out in the sun! He could run through the trees and roll around in the grass!
But he can't. Cause of the stupid weather.
He used to love winter, too, but now he just wishes it never started in the first place.
It's nearly February now, a few weeks since the invasion. Spring will soon be just around the corner.
He wonders if Leo will be awake by then.
He changes the channel.
Crognard the Barbarian has become his favorite show ever. He knows it's kinda stupid, yet he can't help but enjoy the troupe's silly shenanigans.
The characters are horribly flawed, the animation is subpar, and the voice-acting is worse than Super Robo Mecha Force Five!
Like any of that matters to him.
A story is a story, and his imagination can make it all the more interesting.
He talks to everyone about it, and going off on a tangent about his new show does a good job at distracting the rest of the household.
The strangest thing about the last month and a half has been how little he's actually talked to his brothers. April has been his confidant through this entire ordeal, to the point that they share the master bedroom downstairs now, in case either of them have a nightmare.
They're both still broken up about having to leave their fathers behind, but being able to talk to each other about how they've been feeling has helped them immensely. He's pretty sure Casey needs it, too, but the guy has spent most of his time either messing with Donnie, flirting with April, or trying to get Raph to leave Leo alone.
That last part was what he was going to try, too, but the shock he felt when he heard Raphael's voice made him stop in his tracks.
Mikey hovers outside of the closed bathroom door, his breath caught in his throat.
For a single, miraculous second, he thought that Leo had finally woken up, and Raphael was just so excited that he didn't think to tell everyone.
But his hopes were crushed before he could even swing the door open and see for himself. Once his mind caught up to what Raph was saying, he froze...
Right where he is now, listening to his older brother talk in hushed tones to someone who couldn't even answer.
He slowly backs away from the door and inches himself down the stairs, his mind moving slower than usual for some reason.
Mikey loves to talk, to the point that he often forgets to listen. He knows this, but is he really that bad? Do his brothers think they can't talk to him? Are they just worried that venting about their own problems right now would stress him out? Maybe, but who cares!?
He's going to see Donnie. Either Raph has finally lost it, or he's talking to Leo as a coping mechanism. Either way, Raph needs to get out of the bathroom.
He'll even start switching out with Raphael if he really needs to, or even sitting with him. Anything to keep him from being alone for too long. Heck, even Donnie has had more social interactions during all this than Raph has! That needs to change.
Mikey doesn't bother putting on a coat; he grabs the blanket hanging off the back of the couch and wraps it around his shoulders, stuffing his feet into a modified pair of house shoes. They'll keep his feet dry, at least.
The winter air whips him in the face, and already he's regretting the short walk to the barn. At least it isn't snowing, his little voice of optimism reminds him, and he breathes a cold sigh of thanks to it as he braves the frigid weather. The sun does nothing to warm him.
The barn door creaks as he shuts it behind him. "Donnie?"
A soft whistle answers him as he nears the desk. There lies Donatello, passed out on his desk, his breath softly whistling through his gap tooth.
He knows Donnie hasn't been sleeping much. Him and April have been doing their best to make sure the genius sleeps and eats as much as he can, but they can only do some much for him while still taking care of themselves.
Mikey can wait. He's not waking Don up the one time he's fast asleep.
So he huddles himself next to Donnie's desk, pulls out his T-phone, and waits.
If listening to Raphael talk to Leo was shocking enough, learning that talking to coma patients could help them blew his mind.
He jumped at the opportunity, despite Donnie reminding him that Leo likely couldn't hear them. He didn't care. He had to try.
With Mikey now being able to spend time with Leo, Raphael has finally gotten the chance to spend time outside the bathroom and socialize. Casey's been ecstatic, and even Donnie has improved in taking care of himself.
It dawns on him that they've all just been worried for each other. With Mikey getting over his fear of looking at Leo like this, Raph now has the chance to get over his fear of leaving Leo alone in larger intervals, and that must be a huge weight off of Donnie's shoulders. Donnie's still working on the medicine, positive that he's nearing a breakthrough- especially now that he's been sleeping more.
"We had dinner together last night, for the first time since we've been here," Mikey traces the lip of the tub, the light steam from the warm water leaving a streak behind. "We didn't talk much, but it just… It felt so much better, Leo! To have nearly all of us together!" He leans forward, whispering his words to the sleeping eldest, "If you wake up, it can be all of us, you know. But I don't mind waiting, not anymore. Crazy, right? Oh! Speaking of crazy-"
As he recounts the latest episode of Crognard to his oldest brother, another listens outside the door, finding an odd source of comfort in the silly tale.
A knock sounds from behind him. "Hey, Raph?" Mikey's voice rings through the door, oozing with barely contained sweetness.
"Yeah?" He grunts back, the sound echoing throughout the room. That's the voice he makes when he wants something.
"Wanna watch the newest episode of 'Crognard' with me? I'll make us food!" The slight begging isn't lost to him, so he takes a moment to mull it over, just to tease Mikey.
"I don't know, Mike, it sure sounds a lot more boring than sitting in a bathroom all day," He tries to keep his tone even, but the subconscious acceptance of just how bored he's been these last two months catches him off guard.
Mikey haughtily gasps and quickly cracks the door open, peeking his frowning face through. "Rude!"
Raphael huffs a soft laugh and calmly gets up from the stool, "Yeah, yeah, Mikey, I'll watch it with ya."
The orange-banded teen silently squeals at his success as he runs off to make them lunch, wondering aloud that maybe Donnie would join them. Operation: Brotherly Bonding, he called it.
Raph grins and gently shakes his head, thankful that at least one of them is holding themselves together. He'll probably never say it, but his little brother has been a lifeline to them all. A ship coming to their aid while they're still lost at sea.
Maybe he will say it, actually, just in case he never gets the chance to.
That's something he's come to realize for a second time this last year.
As he heads down the stairs, he recalls when they all were near tears after escaping the technodrome crash. Leo had gone and sacrificed himself, his body confined to an oceanic grave.
There had been so many things he wanted to say right then, but he forgot about them as soon as Leonardo's teasing voice met his ears. The instant relief had drowned out his depressing confessions.
He wonders how long he'll be able to keep doing that. Keeping everything in. Strangely, he hasn't been angry as of late; an odd fact, since he hasn't been taking out his frustrations on his punching bag or drums.
He thought that he'd be enraged by everything at this point. Hell, maybe even sad. Or even worse, guilt.
But he's felt none of them so far. Most of the time, he's felt nothing.
He felt nothing whenever he had to clean Leo and the tub. It's like he wasn't even there. Numb.
But lately, since he's been talking more, he's been feeling more... And it scares him. He isn't ready for the sadness, the guilt, the rage. Mikey has gotten him used to the more comforting feelings, thankfully, but the fear that the darker ones will soon reappear eats at his insides.
His stomach churns as negatives flash in his mind. Suddenly, lunch doesn't seem too appetizing.
Maybe the show will distract him enough to let him eat.
He hates feeling it. The one feeling he's had through this swell of apathy. Fear.
Fear for Leo, fear for himself, fear for his brothers, his father, his friends, New York-
"Here you go, dude!" A bowl of ramen finds itself in front of his face. He gently takes it, along with the can of soda offered right after. Mikey's blinding smile catches his eyes. "The show's about to start, and Donnie said he'll join us in a sec!"
Raph nods in response, hardly noticing the few moments it takes for Michelangelo to grab his own food and drink. The youngest sits himself flush up against Raphael's side, something Raph would normally detest. But he ignores it, a part of him desperate for the loving contact.
He doesn't notice his stomach settle as the show begins, or even when Donnie enters with a soft "Hey". They sit silently, slurping away at their noodles and sipping their sodas as Crognard's team fights an invisible beast.
His eyes drift to the direction of the stairs, thinking of his own invisible beast.
He wonders if he can beat it alone.
Donnie calls another meeting. Something has been eating at the nerd, even more so now that everyone is eyeing him warily. Raph leans against the sink, his arms crossed as he waits for the bad news.
"Did you do it?" April asks, barely masking her growing worry as Donnie remains silent.
He sighs and rubs at his eyes. His sleep schedule the last couple of days has been worse, like back when they first got here. That was Raphael's first clue that something was wrong.
"I still have one canister of mutagen left, and while I'm close to perfecting the medicine, we're at risk for being unable to make retromutagen… For the city."
Oh. So this is how it's gonna go. "So? We could always find more once we get to the city; Leo needs help now!"
"You think I haven't thought about that Raph?! Cause I have! But it's not just the mutagen!" He stands from the table, his arm gesturing wildly around him. "We need to save the city at some point! We can't wait for however long it takes for Leo to wake up! The world may very well be destroyed by then!"
Raphael's arms shoot to his sides, his fists clenching. He turns his shell away from the table and glares out the window. "So what do you propose, huh? We aren't going to save New York by ourselves in one day. Will one of us stay behind to take care of him, making our team even weaker? Or do we take him with us and just make the mission more difficult?" His heartbeat raises along with his voice. "How the Hell are we supposed to even save New York, anyways!? We're just teenagers! Why is it all on us in the fucking first place?!"
He doesn't know when he started yelling, nor when his chest started caving in. He pants into the sink- when did he stop looking out the window?- and tries to breathe.
It's like the sudden rush of adrenaline broke the dam keeping his emotions at bay.
His breathing staggers as everything hits him at once. I need to get out.
He turns away from the sink and bolts for the back door. I'm gonna explode.
He ignores his family as they call out his name. Which one will it be this time?
He slams the door shut behind him. Guilt?
He sprints into the dark of the nearby forest. Fear?
He skids to a stop at a random tree. Sadness?
He heaves a sob as his fist flies toward the rough bark. Rage?
He doesn't stop, even when both his fingers and face start to run slick. Or all of them at once?
He's surprised to find them all still at the table, quietly eating dinner. Mikey made lasagna.
A plate sits at an empty spot next to Mikey, across from Casey. His. An invitation, telling him they don't blame him for his outburst, and to come eat whenever he's ready.
He decides to first wash his hands and face in the bathroom. The one in the master bedroom, since no one uses the upstairs bathroom for its actual purposes.
He trudges to the back of the house, his skull buzzing and limbs tingling. Donnie will have to look at his hands. They aren't terribly off, but he definitely hit harder and longer than he should have. He hisses as the cold water runs over his stinging knuckles, biting his tongue as he cups the water to splash his face.
Shit. He has to wash his mask, too.
Upon finishing his clean up, he heads back to the kitchen entryway and pauses. He keeps his hands hidden at his sides as he tries to find his voice.
"Do-on?" Damn. He couldn't hide the crack in his voice.
Donatello looks up at him, surprised. Oh man, he probably thought Raph was angry at him. "Y-yeah?"
Raphael wordlessly raises his hands into the light, awkwardly avoiding his brother's tired gaze.
Donnie sighs and stands up, "Bathroom, now."
And Doctor Don has returned.
He silently waits on the bathroom counter for Donnie to come back, eyeing his jacked up fingers. He probably should've just beaten the tree with a stick or something, but to be fair, he wasn't thinking clearly.
He doesn't think he's ever had something that bad happen before. His blackout rages are nothing like what just happened, and those are by far his worst emotional outbursts.
Ask Donnie.
Yeah, he should ask Donnie. The guy knows everything.
Well, almost everything.
Don says nothing as he begins picking splinters out from Raph's knuckles with a pair of tweezers. He does his best to make it quick and painless, but every tug makes Raphael's eyes water. Once he's done, he mumbles a quick "Brace yourself," as he dabs disinfectant on Raph's torn fingers.
He grunts and takes a shaky breath through his nose, "I'm sorry," He chokes out.
Donnie looks up at him as he grabs a roll of gauze. "Sorry? What for? I'm not at all surprised this even happened," Don looks back at the older teen's hands and begins wrapping, unbothered by Raphael's bewildered look. "Raph, you've been on the brink of a nervous breakdown since the first week, and I don't blame you for it one bit-"
Raphael starts at that, "H-how didja know-?"
"Casey followed you before we could stop him. We tried to tell him to leave you be, but he wouldn't listen. He came back pretty soon after and told me what he saw, privately," He hums as he finishes wrapping his brother's hands, a deep frown on his face. "I didn't mean to… Make you break, I just…" He sighs again. Donnie's been sighing a lot lately. "I'm trying to be realistic here, no matter how much I hate it. I would like to stay here and take care of Leo as long as he needs, but the possibility of him waking up before the end of the world is unlikely," He swallows and looks up into Raph's eyes, resting a hand on his knee. "Do you understand why we can't wait much longer?"
He wonders if Don can understand what his eyes are trying to convey. He can't speak right now. His throat feels swollen.
Donnie pats his shoulder, motioning for him to stand. He complies, not bothering to brush off the genius's arm slung around his shoulder as they return to the kitchen.
But instead of entering the room, Donnie pauses, stopping Raph in his tracks. He looks up at him, his brow quirked in confusion.
"Guys," He begins, catching the entire table's attention. They'd been eating ice cream, the perfect sad food. "One more month. If I don't have the medicine perfected by then, we're leaving. Understood?"
To their surprise, Raphael nods first. He gets it. It's not any of their faults that this is the way things are; that they are the only ones capable of saving everyone.
Everyone besides their brother, of course.
He flinches and leaves Donnie's side to grab a bowl of ice cream. He's not hungry enough for pasta.
He scoops a spoonful of the frozen treat into his dry mouth.
He tastes nothing.
Somehow, things have been a little easier. Maybe because they finally have a plan, or because Donnie is so close to having the perfect medicine. He should have it done by this week, two weeks earlier than his given deadline.
They continue with their routine as Spring fully rears its head. Raphael still spends most of his time with Leo, but he's gotten better at leaving him unattended. He tries not to focus on what the future holds for them, choosing to seek out his family whenever his thoughts become too much for himself. He doesn't talk about what's on his mind, no, but he talks.
That's good enough for him, right?