Title: I don't remember you
Author: Jerico Cacaw
Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT.
Summary: When the family suddenly grows in a member and no one seems to find it odd except Leo, it is up to him to straight things again. The problem? He is not sure of his own motives for doing so. This is a Fifth Turtle tale, with a twist.
Author note: Ah, Thanx for the time you will take to read this. Truly, it is amazing to know that, somewhere around the world, other people are reading what I write. By the way, my humble apologies for the delay; I've been busy trying to write an original story. That's 50k words in 30 days, accordingly to NaNoWriMo's rules (National Novel Writhing Month). I hope I can do it.
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Part Two
Donatello, Raphael and Michelangelo's POV (3rd person)
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On the streets, the rain kept pouring while the clouds hid the moon and stars. It was darkness, obscurity, blackness everywhere, if you choose to ignore the occasional lightning. Unknown to the inhabitants of the sewers, the water flowed clearer than in previous days, having removed earlier most of the dirt from the streets. A gust of fresh air ran thru the tunnels and, along with those of the dripping and running water, its whisper was the only sound heard.
Into the Lair, three turtles watched as his older brother retreated toward his room.
"Can you believe he said it?" Raphael angrily said, once Leonardo's door was closed.
"Somehow, it doesn't surprise me, Raphael," Donatello defended his brother. "I mean, with us refusing to look for emotional support with Master Splinter, we had been turning to each other more frequently. And that includes you, Raph, there's no need to deny it."
"Yes, but Leo have never done that, it was always Master Splinter for him," Mikey supplied, knowing they were fully aware of the fact.
"Because he refuses to show weakness in front of us," grunted Raphael, while sitting back at his corner of the sofa.
"That is the easiest explanation. But then, the same applies to you, yet it is not unusual for you to vent your frustrations with Leo or try to find some stress relief nagging Mikey," Donnie provided. "By the way, this happens to be a very bad move, as it ends with Michelangello scheming one insanity or another in revenge."
Raphael smiled at that, as he knew his brother's words were nothing but true. Nonetheless, his smile was not shared by Mikey, who appeared to be lost in his thoughts, still picking up the pillows and covers that lay scattered on the floor, handing them to Raph and Donnie.
"Maybe we can't give him what he needs."
Raphael couldn't accept the sad regret he heard on the youngest turtle's voice.
"Well, it is his problem, not ours," he said. "Besides, what could a mother give him that we can't?"
"He didn't say a mother," Michelangelo pointed. "He said a mom. There's a difference."
Donnie smiled at his brother's commentary, catching the meaning of his words.
Raphael silently pondered it. A mom. Then he understood it: they did have a mother, the biological one. But what could they wait from her? Besides the fact that she brought them to the living's world, that's it. Of course, they already knew what mothers were for. They have to, with Mikey subjecting them to such enormous amounts or TV, thus to the common clichés of motherhood.
The thing was, he never had wondered if they needed a mother, and he had never stopped to considerate their real mother meant nothing to them. Real. What, was there such a thing as an unreal mother? He wondered why they have never talked about it before. Well, this moment was as good as any other to do it.
"She is green, and older than us," he started without looking at them.
A few moments passed before anything else was said, this time by Donatello.
"She is not a ninja, but she is a turtle. Oh, and our mother too. How could I forget that?"
Raph raised his head and found Donnie tenderly smiling; they both turned to look at Michelangelo.
"Mom is as funny and pretty as I am," he said with a crazy grin, before a shower of pillows was sent on his way. Still, he managed to add something. "And she loves me much!"
"Mom loves us all," Donnie corrected, pausing in his attack. "She doesn't always understand everything I say, but still she pays attention when I talk."
"Mom does not care if I believe she should close her mouth; still she goes on and tries to put some sense on my head," Raph admitted, recovering the pillows that were close to his sofa's corner. "And even when she is not a damn good fighter, she can kick Leo's ass. Hell, she can kick any of our asses."
They snickered at that, silently in agreement.
"She is much more … uh, no … she is as wise as Master Splinter," remarked Mikey, finally taking a seat at Raphael's side. "But she is way better a cooker than I am."
"And I'm not as good as she is at patching us up," Donnie took the last blanket and extended it over his brothers, before cuddling on his corner.
"And she's better than I am at keeping Michelangelo under control," Raph pushed the younger turtle in the direction of his other brother.
"Hey! You can't keep me under control!"
"That's why we need her so much!"
Raph last words remained on their minds for a moment. Donnie tried not to act as Leo had before, but he couldn't prevent himself from acknowledging all of this was not real. Because, if they really needed her so much, why wasn't she by their side?
"Mom can't be with us always," Mikey pointed, obviously sharing his brother concern, "because she has a lot of other sons to care for. We can't be selfish, 'cause we have to share her with all our little bros."
"And you are such a noble, self-sacrificing turtle, aren't you?" Raph shook his head, still not believing Mikey weird observation.
"Yup. It only proves why I'm her favorite."
"She has no favorites, she loves us equally," the purple-clad turtle declared.
"And if she were to have a favorite, it would be Leo."
"Raph, don't start that," complained Donnie, directing an irritated gaze to his brother.
"What? He IS the perfect son."
Both Mikey and Donnie rolled his eyes at that.
"Mom does not believe he is perfect," the first one said. "Or, better, she believes we all are perfect."
Donatello had to agree with that, though he admitted they were in disadvantage when compared against Leonardo. However, mothers are supposed to be fair with their sons, weren't they? Nonetheless, the genius turtle decided to change the subject. Raphael never took easily Leo's perfectionism, and they had already had enough fighting tonight.
"When mom comes to visit, she makes us pizza," if that didn't call his brother's attention, nothing else will do it, "even if she doesn't like pizza too much, as she prefers more healthy food."
"What do you have against pizza? It does a balanced meal," Mikey pointed, obviously amused by the fact that Donnie was the one talking about food.
"Not with all the junk you put on it, and certainly not with the amount you swallow," Raphael contradicted him. "Seriously, Michelangelo, you are way too heavy … and get off, you are squashing me again."
The youngest brother didn't fight the shove; instead he used the impulse to fall on Donatello.
"Mikey!" the crushed turtle yelled trying to remove him, which happened to be impossible, as Michelangelo was not helping. In fact, he was very happily acting as dead weight.
"What? If I'm as weightless as a feather …"
Finally Raphael came to the rescue and, with Donatello's help, managed to immobilize their younger brother in the middle of the sofa. They had to sacrifice the whole bunch of covers and pillows, but Mikey's frustration look was sufficient reward.
"You are not so fun," he snorted.
The other turtles paid no ears to his complain.
"Mom refuses to watch us spar with our weapons," Raph returned to their previous talk, "even if she understands why Master Splinter is training us as ninjas."
"She dislikes the life we have to live," Don had to agree, "but you are right; she is aware of the fact that our Sensei does the best he can."
"So, to keep her happy, there are things we don't do. For example, we don't torture our baby bros," Michelangelo articulated while trying to get free.
"Shut up, Mikey, you don't have baby bros," Raphael said, winking at him while fastening the covers that the youngest turtle had managed to loosen.
"Not here, that's it," Donatello hurried to add, remembering Mikey's commentary bout sharing their mother. He really, really was not in the mood to considerate all the implications of such statement.
"Guys, really, I'm getting numb," the orange-clad turtle whined.
His brother looked at each other, trying to decide if they should believe him. Raphael shook his head, sighing, before moving to free the captive.
"Promise you will behave," he grunted.
"Eh …"
"Mikey!"
"Al right, all right!" he accepted. But then, turning to face his other brother, he silently worded grouchy, while Raphael let him free.
Donatello rolled his eyes. Some turtles never learn. Well, at least Michelangelo was staying on his side of the couch.
"Mom loves the green color; she has the skin to prove it … Owie! What I did to you?"
Raphael looked ready to pound his head again.
"Seriously, Michelangelo, I'm still waiting for you to make an intelligent contribution," Donatello remarked.
"That's not true," an offended Mikey rebuked, "because then we will have two Donatellos."
"The kid is right," Raphael agree. "And you have to admit it would be unbearable."
"Hey!"
The three turtle brothers spend the next hour and a half talking about it, adding bit after bit while the candles slowly burned out. Finally they said good night and retired to their rooms. Three doors closed, and soon the silence descended on their home. Well, if you ignored the cricket that decided to spend the night in the drain.
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Donatello's POV (1st person)
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Twelve minutes and one, two, three, four, five, six …
"Donnie?"
I smiled. Honestly, I expected him much earlier. Like, seven minutes ago. Maybe Mikey was waiting for Raph to fall first, and the snoring from the next room proved our brother was already on dream land.
"Come in, Mikey," I made some room for him on my bed.
"There's a monster under my bed," he sheepishly joked, but we both knew he has never been able to sleep alone on thunder-y nights. Even if we live underground.
Sometimes I believe he is the bravest of us all, as I rarely find the courage to show my feelings as openly as he does. I know from the source that both Leonardo and Raphael envy this trait of him, and that they put up with his childish manners just to keep him this way.
God, we will do anything for him.
"I talked with Leo about mom, a long time ago," he whispers, surprising me.
"Really?" I ask, as there is nothing more I can say.
"U-hu. Well, in fact, I did most of the talking. He just … was there for me. Listening, nodding, giving the right answers and such."
Yes, that definitely sounded like Leo.
"Was it like tonight?" I had to know.
"You mean, if he was in denial?"
I laughed and he joined me, but it was not that funny.
"No, not that part; what I want to know is if you talked of how she …" I stopped. How could I end that? Is, was, would be, could be? There was not right choice, but Mikey seemed to understand the question.
"I was wondering if she missed us as much as we missed her," he admitted.
Oh. How could I say Mikey that his 'we' didn't include me? I've never missed her. At first, because what we had at home was enough for me. Just like Leo said earlier, I have always believed our family is perfect for us. And then, as we grew up, I rationalized that our mother was … well, a turtle. That was a hard blow, but Leo already had figured it out, and he helped me face that fact.
"I wasn't aware then," Mikey was going on, "but I think Leo knew that the mom I was talking about wasn't real. He said nothing, though; he allowed me to live my little fantasy."
Tonight is one of those times where nothing you can say is good enough. I hate this occasions, I'm not fit for it.
"How old were we, Mikey?"
"I-I don't remember. Sorry," he apologized. "But we were really young. I still had some speech problems."
Yes, that qualifies as really young. Just how old was Leo when he understood we didn't really have had a mom? Was he like me, unable to say Mikey that he never missed a ghost? But he already answered that, didn't he? A mom would be okay. He wanted her on his live, even if he was reluctant to admit that.
And I needed her, too.
It didn't matter that most of my life I barely thought about her, because many times during the night I caught myself wishing for her to be real, even if I understood that we might be too old to need a mom. And now, hearing from Mikey he understood she never existed, I can't believe we were so cruel to play the game with him. Maybe Leo was right when he refused to.
God, if there's a god out there for creatures like us, I beg for your forgiveness.
Because, before sleep won over us, I pushed Mikey into repeating all the facts the three of us had made up about her. And this time I believed every single bit of it.
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AN: Oh my. I just ended the translation of that last part and … uh … I was kinda sappy when I wrote that, uh? I had just saw a theater play (for children) where a little girl is sad because her mother is away and can't give her a good night kiss. I swear, most of the adults were crying at that part :P. The idea was to write Raph's POV at the end of this chapter, but he refuses to come when I'm in those conditions. Well, I'm better now.
Now, thanks to Reinbeauchaser (thanks for your corrections! I'm gonna fix that … and hey, I'm being praised for being sparse in my writing! Uh ... that is a good thing, right? Really, the fact that you can write a lot of words is not a problem, because you do it beautifully), Leo Oneal (another one that thinks they need a mom! Sorry, I'm gonna make you wait till the next chapter), Jessiy Landroz (yup, I mention "the chat" of your story on this one again. And Raph is not being helpful, he refuses to come …), Cynlee (O-oooh, I'm on your alert list! I'm feeling extremely honored :), Tewi (and I impressed you! Yay!), Mewfew (thanks), and TheIncredibleDancingBetty (I will write more of this, just … on a very slow pace).