Summary: When Leo cooks and tries to get Mikey to eat it, Mikey relives his time as a prisoner of the Kraang. Set 2k12 Universe. No OCs. 2k3/2k12 crossover.

This is the breakfast scene from Aftermath ch 13 but from Leo's PoV and shows what actually happened when Mikey had his flashback.


A/N: While most stories in the 'AOtGO' series can be read fairly stand-alone, I recommend you read Aftermath ch 13 before reading this for it to make more sense. This is a retelling of a particular scene from a PoV other than Michelangelo's so that anyone interested can see what actually happened. I'm posting this separately as I'm not particularly enamoured of rewriting the same scene twice in a story just because it's a different PoV.


Aftermath:

Bonus Breakfast Scene

"Father! Mike!" Leonardo started in surprise. "You're both up already?"

Splinter chuckled, "Indeed we are, my son. We were just on our way to make tea." Leo didn't miss the wary flicker of eyes towards Splinter from Mike. "Will you join us?"

"Of course, Father," Leo answered eagerly. "Sit down, I'll take care of it," he offered as they entered the homely room.

"Don't make any for me, Leo, I'll just have water," Mike said quietly as he headed for the fridge.

Leonardo turned his head to gaze at him in concern. "Are you sure? It's no more trouble to make for three than it is for two."

"Yeah, I'm sure, dude. I never really liked tea much anyway," Mike chuckled hollowly. He opened the door and took out the pitcher pouring the contents into a glass he snatched from the drying rack. Then he joined Splinter at the kitchen table. "I'm only here for the company."

"Alright." Leonardo frowned slightly as he turned back to the tea nook. As he filled the kettle, he gazed at the varieties of tea, considering which would be the best choice this morning. While he set the cups out, he stole a look at Master Splinter and deciding he looked in need of a pick-me-up, selected the white tea, carefully measuring out the perfect amount. As he stood there waiting, he wondered if he should try his hand at breakfast and give Mike a break; it was a shame he refused the tea, he looked like he could use it too.

While he was thinking, the kettle boiled so Leo lifted it free of its base and poured, filling the two mugs and gently stirring. When they were ready, he carefully picked them up and walked to the table where he stopped short, gazing at the empty space beside the table. "Where's the other stool?" he asked, perplexed. He was sure it had been there only last night.

Splinter held out his hand and Leonardo passed the mug to him. "It is in Donatello's lab awaiting repairs. I discovered a crack in one of the legs last night while you were out."

"Oh, I see," Leonardo replied, taken aback as he saw Splinter smile at Mike. "Then I'll mention it to Donnie later since we'll need it for the weekend."

"What happens on the weekend?" Mike piped up curiously.

Leo took a cautious sip of his hot drink then replied with a small frown, "April and Casey usually stay over," he explained, turning his gaze on the other turtle. "April has her own room from when she was forced to hide down here with us several months ago and Casey often sleeps on a roll-up mattress in Raph's room or in the pit if Raph is too restless or moody to put up with sharing his space." That was right, April would be over for the weekend. He had to practice to surprise her with how well he took her cooking lesson to heart. Placing his mug down at the seat next to Mike's, Leo walked to the cupboards to pull out the oats their friend had left the previous week.

"Do you need help, bro?" Mikey asked anxiously as he pushed back his stool and began to get up.

"No, sit back down, Mike. I may not be great in the kitchen but I have this," Leo insisted confidently, glancing back with a strained smile. "April gave me a lesson last weekend so we could have a hot breakfast from time to time."

Mikey glanced worriedly at Splinter. "You sure, dude?" he pressed carefully.

"Definitely," Leo promised with a nod. He poured oats from a bag into a large mug before tipping it into a saucepan and repeating twice before staring critically at the contents and adding another mugful and thinking about it some more. Mike started to get up again but Leonardo just waved him back down and went to the sink with the now empty mug and the saucepan in hand.

Running the tap, he filled the mug and poured it into the saucepan. Then repeated, once, twice, thrice before turning away again and placing it on the stove. He fumbled a bit with the unfamiliar controls before finally managing to light it.

"Uh... Leo?"

"I'm fine, Mike. I just need to... salt... where's the salt again," he muttered, wandering over to the tubs at the wall and lifting lids to peer inside each. Seriously! What was with his brother and refusing to label things? It was ridiculous and only made it that much harder for everyone else. In fact, he'd once told him so only for Mikey to laugh and wave him off before going about his day. A few weeks later, Leo had managed to find a working label-maker at the dump and proceeded to reorganise the kitchen into some semblance of order, moving ingredients, rearranging the shelves, all so it made more sense, even going so far as to label everything. To say Mikey hadn't appreciated his effort was an understatement. The first time he'd cooked dinner after that was a disaster because, as Leo later discovered, Mikey hadn't noticed the ingredients had been moved around. He'd been in the zone, bopping to music as he cooked and just grabbing things from where he was used to them being. No one was happy with dinner that night and Mikey had tried again, this time painstakingly looking for everything he needed and taking far longer than necessary. A couple of days later, instead of sleeping through the night, Leo discovered Mikey had spent it awake and moving everything back to where it had been, going so far as ripping every single label off and smiling too sweetly all the next day. Later, Donnie had explained that while Mikey actually did have a great memory (to Leo's surprise), it was visually oriented. He didn't look for things because he just remembered where they were and went by instinct. By reorganising, Leo had messed up his rhythm. Donnie also warned that he hadn't appreciated the change either, especially before his first cup of coffee of the day when he wasn't exactly awake enough to concentrate.

Leo's mood fell as a pang ripped through his chest. Mikey... None of them had ever been away from each other for even a single night before, let alone over a month. Mikey could be a royal pain in the shell but at the same time, no one brightened their lives or moods more. He hadn't been able to sense his missing brother on the Astral Plane since that one time he'd been so distressed so he could only hope, believe, that the other turtle who'd been there had been able to help him because he knew that if the worst had happened, he would have felt it. He shook his head clear of such debilitating thoughts and thrust his hand into the salt tub, figuring a handful would be about right.

"Uh... that's sugar, dude, not salt and that'd be way too much if it was salt," Mikey tried to offer as Leo far too quickly dumped the handful into the pot.

"No, that was definitely salt," Leo said confidently, giving the contents of the pan a single stir to mix it. "The sugar's in the smaller tub next to the salt and it's one pinch of salt for every cup so a handful should be about right."

"One human-sized pinch," Mikey insisted queasily. "Your fingers and hand are huge compared to humans, dude."

Leo turned and gave Mike a sideways look, pursing his lips as the other turtle gave Splinter an amused look.

"Well, way too sweet is better than way too salty at least, right, Grandpa-sensei?"

"If you say so, Michelangelo," Splinter murmured, taking a careful sip of his morning tea to cover up his grimace. It didn't cover it up well enough, Leo noted, hurt that his father didn't have faith in his ability to improve. Okay, he was a bad cook, he knew that but then again, until last week he'd only had the one disastrous lesson when they were little and that was well before they discovered human food. Now he had reason to learn and a friend who'd been patient enough to give him a lesson.

Leo turned his attention back to the task at hand. The pot was already bubbling so he hurried to gather bowls and spoons, pulling out enough for everyone. When he turned back to the stove, it was in time to see a huge bubble pop so he turned off the stove and began ladling the porridge into bowls. He frowned at the weird and clumpy consistency – it didn't look like April's - wrinkling his beak as a burnt stench hit his nostrils the moment he uncovered the bottom of the saucepan. The top looked edible though so he figured it would be fine. Gathering the bowls, he carried them carefully to the table, placing them in front of his father and Mike and his brother's still-empty seats.

As the sound of bowls clattering on the table sounded, Mike jumped, whipping his head around to stare up at Leo, startled. Leo smiled at him nervously.

"How is it?" Leo asked, working to disguise his anxiety as he motioned to the half-filled bowl before him. "Is it okay or do I have to try again?"

Mike blinked, glancing around the table to see similarly filled mismatched bowls all around. "Since when am I the royal taste-tester?" he joked with an uneasy laugh.

Okay, the burnt toast the other day was unfortunate but that'd been an accident and he'd tried so hard this morning. Leo fought not to glance guiltily over at the pot as he frowned in disappointment. "Well, I just thought since you're the expert..." he swallowed anxiously, "but if you think I'm going to poison you..."

Mike winced apologetically and turned his gaze on the bowl in front of him with a weak smile. He picked up his spoon then froze, looking as though he was about to be sick.

Leo sighed reluctantly. "Don't worry about it Mike, if it's that bad, you don't have to try it. I'll throw it out and start over," he said, his shoulders drooping despondently. He needed to get this right. They couldn't survive with only one person who was now missing knowing how to cook. Sure, Mike was here currently but it wasn't fair to rely solely on him, someone who was a guest in their home and struggling to pull himself back together after a long, horrific captivity at the tentacles of their enemy. "You can help if you like. You know, instruct me step-by-step while I do the actual work? I obviously need more instruction."

Mike didn't answer though. His nauseous expression had shifted, taking on a horrified, perhaps even terrified look.

"Mike?" Leo prompted gently. He was worried. He'd seen Michelangelo like this a couple of times now as if caught in a bad memory. Donnie had told them it was likely Mike had severe PTSD after what he'd been through, much as Mr O'Neil and Leatherhead did and they needed to try to gently draw him out if that happened. Scaring him was the worst thing they could do right now.

"I..." Mike gulped and forced his eyes open as he dug the spoon almost violently into the porridge, only to watch as it slowly slid off in uneven chunks.

"As I said, you don't have to eat it, Mike," Leo tried again in a calm voice. He reached out to take the bowl away when Mike suddenly looked up, his face filled with terror and eyes wild as though he didn't recognise anything. Leo gulped. This was not good. He needed to draw him out of this now so he rested his hand on the other turtle's shoulder, hoping the touch would soothe him and bring him back into the moment. It was the worst thing he could have done but by the time he realised, Michelangelo shot to his feet, kicking the stool away violently at the same moment he knocked the bowl flying across the table.

"Get the hell away from me!" Mike shrieked in panic at the same moment a sea-green fist smashed viciously into Leo's face.

Stunned, Leo hit the wall with a cry of pain and slid down it.

"Michelangelo, you must calm down," Splinter commanded in that tone that always ensured immediate obedience. "You are safe, in our home. No one here will hurt you, I promise."

Still reeling, Leo struggled to his feet to see Mike crouched in a defensive stance, his eyes darting frantically around for escape and Raph and Donnie blocking the way out the room. Raph had his sais in his hands even as Donnie held out his hands, palms up.

"It's okay, Mike," Donnie placated calmly as Mike panted, his fear getting the better of him. "You're safe with us. You're in the lair with Leo, Raph, Master Splinter and myself."

Donnie paused a moment, his eyes landing on Leo briefly to check he was okay. Leo gave him a nod, he was fine, just taken by surprise and man did Mike have a strong left hook, despite the recent injury to it.

"We rescued you a few days ago, remember? Metalhead sacrificed himself to save all of us," Donnie continued, calmer than Leo had ever heard him. Steadier now, Leo pushed away from the wall, quietly making his way over to stand protectively by his father who'd worked his way around Michelangelo so he was in front. Leo figured it wouldn't help matters if Mike felt surrounded. For that matter, he wondered at the wisdom of them blocking the only way out of what could be a very dangerous room given the potential for deadly weapons within it.

Mike's mouth opened as he mouthed the names of his brothers silently as he searched desperately for a way out. His eyes narrowed dangerously and his hands twitched, "I'll go through you if I have to," he warned in a low voice. "I'm going home and I won't let you hurt me again."

"Raph put your weapons away. Everyone, stand back and leave him a path," Leo commanded, taking a slow, careful step to the side.

"I..." Donnie began, only to be interrupted as Mike's lips curled back with a dangerous snarl.

"Mike, please, calm..."

Before anyone else could move, Michelangelo bolted for the door. Thankfully, Raph had obeyed Leo's command about his sais but he still threw his hands up instinctively and Mike did not react well. He took it as an attack, lifting one arm to block and knock Raph's 'attack' aside as the other pulled back to let fly with a devastating corkscrew punch. Before it could land, Splinter reacted, his motion so fast it was a blur as his tail wrapped tightly around Mike's arm and pulled back, preventing the blow from landing. Raph blinked in shock and Mike cried out in terror.

"Let me go!" Mike screamed, tugging desperately at Splinter's tail with his free hand.

"Michelangelo, you must calm down," Splinter commanded, struggling to keep hold lest anyone wind up hurt.

Mike's breathing became ragged and he shook his head frantically. Realising the frantic turtle was beginning to hyperventilate, Leo stepped in, grabbing his free arm to try to hold him still.

"Please, Mike, calm down, you're safe and with family. The Kraang can't hurt you here," he soothed, only to be knocked off his feet as Mike swept them out from under him. Then, he stopped, his eyes bulging in terror and breath wheezing before crumpling to the floor as Splinter released him.

Leo shot his father a look, understanding what happened as the ninja master drew his hands back to his sides and straightened with a slow breath out.

"He will not lash out anymore," Splinter said calmly. He stepped forward and crouched beside the other-dimensional turtle. "Please, calm down, Michelangelo," he repeated in a soothing voice. "You are not hurt, I merely used pressure points to prevent you from harming yourself or anyone else further."

But Mike didn't seem to hear. Instead, his breathing became more ragged and his eyes darted about frantically. Leo feared that if this went on, he'd have a heart attack or something. Donnie obviously thought so too because he whirled and raced from the room, returning less than a minute later, needle in hand. He knelt down beside him, murmuring, "It's alright, Mike. You're going to feel a little prick and go to sleep for a while. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up, I promise."

Tears glistened in Mike's unseeing eyes. "Someone, please help me," he whispered brokenly. Leo's heart wrenched in pain for the other-dimensional turtle and he reached out, clasping his hand gently.

"Don't worry, little brother," he murmured quietly, hoping that Mike was out of it enough to maybe hear his own brother instead. As his eyes slowly closed as the soporific took effect, Leo added, "I'm here and you're safe. I promise."

-:-

Once Mike was out, Leo insisted on carrying him to his room. Donnie followed and together, they settled the lost turtle into bed before returning to the kitchen where Donnie forced Leo to sit as he turned to the freezer. A short time later, Donnie handed Leo an icepack wrapped in a tea towel.

"Take off your mask and let me see," he commanded sternly.

Knowing better than to disobey when Donnie was in that mood, Leo obeyed, reaching up and carefully taking it off with a wince. His eye was badly swollen, he knew. In fact, he could barely see out of it. He smiled wanly up at Donnie, "Will I live?" he quipped, fingering the cold towel as his brother examined his eye.

Donnie frowned critically, ignoring Leo's question. "Hold that to your eye for ten minutes and let it rest for five and repeat."

"He alright?" Raph grunted in concern as he carefully cleaned the mess from the thrown bowl. It had shattered and the congealing porridge was everywhere.

"He will be," Donnie replied, answering Raph and continuing to ignore Leo. "Master Splinter, I don't think it's a good idea for Leo to train today. He needs to rest and use ice."

Splinter's gaze narrowed in worry.

"Wait a minute, Donnie, I'm fine!" Leo protested indignantly. "Our enemies wouldn't let me stop and rest over a black eye," he scoffed, "so I sure as hell don't need to sit out training!"

Donnie twitched in annoyance. "A fight for our lives is different from training!" he retorted angrily. "Darwin's Beard, Leo! What were you thinking! Why the hell would you touch Mike when he clearly wasn't in the moment? You could have gotten killed or hurt worse than you were and how do you think Mike would feel when he regained his senses? How do you think we'd feel? For the.."

"Donatello," Splinter interrupted, cutting off his highly strung son's rant, "Does Leonardo have a concussion?"

Donatello floundered momentarily. "No, he's fine. He was lucky, Master Splinter. If that punch had hit any higher or to the temple..."

"Then I have to agree with Leonardo. He will still join us for training but we will delay training for an hour to give us a chance to eat breakfast," he cast a concerned look at the food in the remaining bowls, "clean up and for Leonardo to ice his injury for a time. However," he held up a hand to stop Donatello from protesting and turned back to Leonardo,"If you experience any dizziness or ill-effects, you will inform me immediately and step out. Is that understood?"

"Hai, sensei," Leo agreed in relief.

Raphael and Donatello cleaned for the next several minutes while Leonardo held the ice to his face and Splinter made fresh tea. Then they sat down in front of the now cold porridge, looking down at it in trepidation.

"Uh... what's this meant to be anyway?" Raph asked cautiously.

"Leonardo made porridge," Splinter smiled proudly, reaching out a hand and resting it briefly on Leonardo's shoulder.

"Guess that explains why Mike flipped it," Raph muttered, glancing at Donnie ruefully. His face twisted slightly at the thought of actually eating something Leo cooked.

Donnie nodded. "You know, I don't like porridge much. I think I'll have cereal instead," he said, already pushing back his stool to go get something else from the cupboard.

"That's not what you said last week when April made it for us," Raph sneered with a knowing look at Donnie. Donnie glared back at him for the betrayal.

"Your brother worked hard to make breakfast. The least you can do is show some respect by trying it before you judge," Splinter admonished sternly, his own hands folded securely in his lap.

Donnie and Raph gulped nervously and reluctantly reached for their spoons.

"Aren't you going to try it too, Sensei?" Raph asked carefully.

Like the ninja master he was, Splinter hid his grimace well and picked up his own spoon. "Of course." He dug into the bowl, lifting out a half spoonful and watching as his sons did likewise. "Itadakimasu!"

"Itadakimasu!" Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael echoed. The three brothers took a bite at once and as one, their faces turned red and spluttering in disgust at the burnt, yet half-cooked congealed sugary mess, spat it back into their bowls.

Splinter calmly placed his spoon down. "Might I suggest toast or cereal instead, my sons?"

-:-


Comments, thoughts and concrit are always welcome.

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