Mikey wakes up a few hours after falling asleep. He's got a weird feeling spreading through his chest, a sort of painful numbness that sometimes happens after a particularly intense night out. He stares at the wall next to his bed, trails his eyes along the cracks and grooves in the cement. Klunk is curled up next to his head and every time he breathes Mikey feels it on his cheek.

The turtle closes his eyes and counts the breaths.

One.

Two.

Three.

He opens them again, frustrated when the numbness won't go away. He should have known this would happen again. It always does, he always goes back to it no matter how long he tries to keep away. Mikey's got an addictive personality though, he can't quit anything.

Muffin was the one to give it to him the first time. Muffin is the first to show him a lot of things, actually.

("Who were you before", Mikey remembers asking.

"Before what?"

"Before all of this."

The poodle looks up at the stars for a moment. He's silent, and then;

"Nobody special.")

It was probably the second or third time he met him. He rocked Mikey's world before introducing him to one of his best friends, of course. Gave him his first ever blow job and held him when Ronny fucked his cloaca with a force that could move mountains. And after that he stroked Mikey's head and whispered praises to him.

"Was that good?" He asked. Ronny was snoring next to them loud enough to compete with Raph.

Mikey had blushed and nodded. He nuzzled his beak into the soft curls on Muffin's chest and breathed in. He was full of bliss and tranquility, the greatest gift an orgasm can give. Especially with a mind that never really stopped like his.

"Yeah man, it was fucking awesome." He mumbles into his fur.

"It's almost like being high, isn't it?" The mutant laughed and rubbed the top of his head.

"Wouldn't know." Mikey said sleepily. He really needed to get back home. His bed was basically screaming his name by that point!

Muffin stops petting his head and Mikey lets out a noise of protest. "You've never been high before?" He sounded genuinely surprised. Mikey had frowned, and looked up at the poodle.

"No?"

"Well...do you want to be?"

It was a loaded question.

Mikey knew drugs were bad. It was drilled into their heads at a very young age. Alcohol and drugs alter the natural state of the mind. You cannot fight to your true potential if your thought process is hindered. You must never allow a preventable influence to take hold of you. That's what master Splinter had said. And master Splinter's word was law. If he spoke it then it must be true.

But Splinter had been human, once. And humans can be wrong.

Mikey had read the magazines about cannabis, and had listened to the songs about alcohol. They seemed like wonderful things. And, most importantly, they seemed like fun.

And Mikey had already gone this far. He had already fucked multiple strangers within the span of a few days. There was no going back, even if Muffin was giving him a choice.

"Kinda."

He smiled at him and lent over Ronny's sleeping form to grab his bookbag. Mikey leaned back away from his embrace to allow him more room to maneuver his stuff. "Lemme give you a few ground rules first." He says as he rummages around before pulling out a bag.

Mikey tilts his head. It looked like candy, certainly not the green stuff that the magazines had shown pictures of. "This is called E. Don't take these alone. Always make sure someone else is with you, okay?"

Mikey had nodded and watched with fascination as he pulled out some of the pills. He held out his hand and Muffin smiled as he placed two of the tablets in his palm. They almost look like the heartburn candies Donnie gives Master Splinter. He hopes they're not chalky like the heartburn candies.

Upon closer inspection, he sees that there's little faces drawn into the pills. The pink one had a smiley face on it and the yellow one had a cute little heart engraved into it. "Do I swallow them dry?" He asked.

"Yeah, Ronny here stole the last of our water."

Mikey's mouth went dry and he had felt extremely nervous. But Muffin was there with a paw rubbing his thigh soothingly, and Ronny was a solid and comforting presence next to him. He had felt safe.

A second past and Mikey dumped both of them in his mouth. They tasted bitter, like the heartburn candies, but they weren't unbearably chalky. It took a bit of effort but he managed to swallow both of them using nothing but his spit. If the pills were any bigger then there would have been a problem.

"It takes about thirty minutes to kick in." Muffin had cooed. "But after that wait you'll be feeling it for the next couple hours, promise. This will be the most fun you ever had in your life!"

Mikey actually doesn't remember what happened when he was high, but he does know he was happy and carefree. More so than usual, at least. It had felt like he didn't have a care in the world and he loved that.

He did E a couple more times with Muffin, and then Timothy showed him Super Acid. Muffin later told him that it was actually called Ketamine, but Mikey liked the sound of Super Acid. Made it sound more appealing, and it reminded him of comic books for some reason.

Super Acid is very, very different from E. The most stark difference is, of course, the form. Instead of cute little colorful pills it's a white powder. Mikey thought it was cocaine at first, but Timothy had laughed at him and shook his head.

"Cocaine is too expensive, my friend. This is Super Acid. Here, this is how you use it." The bear had separated the powder into thin, short lines. "I usually take much, much more. But we'll do only a little, since you're new to this."

Timothy pressed a finger over one of his nostrils and ducked his head onto the table. He then proceeded to suck the powder through his nose. Mikey had stared, extremely grossed out by the concept of stuffing something like that into his nose. But above all, he was curious. E was great so why wouldn't Super Acid be just as fantastic?

The bear looked up and grinned at him after he was done. "Your turn."

Mikey copied his actions, sucking up a line in one go. It burned, and Mikey was sure he was never doing powder ever again. Fifteen minutes later and he was singing a different tone.

E made him feel happy and energized. It made him feel unstoppable. E was like a new set of double AA batteries being put in a remote that hasn't worked in over a year.

Super Acid, however, made him feel like he was in a dream. It made everything nice and floaty. Instead of making him want to go, it made him want to simply just be. Super Acid was like a pretty photo lense filter put on top of a picture of garbage.

So for 6 months he'd fuck, and in return people would give him drugs. He's probably tried them all by this point but his favourites were definitely pot, E, and Super Acid. Nothing could compare to them, in his books. But he got too addicted too fast.

Leo almost caught him, he'd become so careless.

So, with Muffin's help, he weaned off of it. It worked for a couple of weeks, he stayed drug free and Leo remained none the wiser.

But then Raph had called him stupid during an argument, and said that he was useless and good for nothing but fucking up. It's not the worst thing Raph has ever said to him but it still sent him into a spiral. Muffin held his hand as they did E together again. And then he held it again when Mikey asked to get back off of it.

So far, this has happened three times.

It had been a month, 2 weeks, and five days since the last time he got high. He promised himself that he wouldn't do it again. That the community was too important to risk him getting busted for. That his own sanity was too much to risk, too.

That didn't stop him from keeping a stash in an old Nike shoe box, though. Just in case, he told himself.

Just in case what?

He didn't know the answer.

The blood in his veins thrummed and pulsed, begging for him to give it what it desires most in this world.

Happiness.

The question of the day: Why are you so sad, Michelangelo?

These thoughts are exactly why he fucks until he's brainless. If he's not training or fucking then he's left to his own thoughts. That's why drugs appealed to him so much. They made his thoughts become a backburner in his own head. He didn't have to think about why he's sad when he's on drugs.

Because, honestly, he doesn't have a reason to be sad. He's got a big happy family, he's never experienced loss, and he's been pampered as the youngest his whole life. He loves his family and they love him. What reason does Mikey have to be so moody? What tragedy has happened to him that he can't get over?

Worse things have happened to better people and they don't fuck and do drugs to cope. So why does he?

His life is fine.

(Except.

Whenever he's too loud, he can see the annoyance in Splinter's face. He never gets like that with anyone else. "My son is a disappointment," Splinter probably thinks. "Why can't he be more like his brothers?"

Whenever he doesn't get something, he can practically feel the condescending waves roll off of Donatello. "Of course you don't. It's because you're dumb. You're never going to understand anything important."

Whenever he wakes up and the world feels like too much and he can barely bring himself up out of bed, he can hear the anger in the rarely upset Leonardo's voice. "So lazy. You don't do anything around here but sleep and cause problems. You're a disgrace."

Whenever he yearns for company and seeks out his brother, Raphael wears his disdain openly. "I can't stand you. You're nothing but a menace. Why would I want to spend time with you? I'd rather get bapped in the head a thousand times by Don's stick than spend more than a minute alone with you."

Maybe he isn't fine. Maybe his brothers don't love him, after all. Maybe his family isn't as happy as he'd like to make it out to be)

His hand twitches, and his feet move before he can really think about what he's doing. Klunk remains asleep as he slides out of the bed and onto his knees beside it. He reaches under the bed and pulls out his most prized possession.

He sets it into his lap and takes a moment to observe what age has done. A thin layer of dust has formed on the top from being left alone for so long. It also has a distinct "old box" smell now, and it would've made him proud if he weren't so desperate to get another fix. The dust goes flying all around him as he opens his goody box.

Mikey smiles lovingly at the contents inside. A bag filled about halfway with a rainbow of tablets, a sixteen ounce mason jar filled with white powder, and two gallon bags filled to the brim with Blue Dream cannabis. Aside from the actual substances in the box, there's a grindr with the nirvana logo painted on top, a gift card to Blockbusters, a tie dye bic lighter, and a clear pipe.

He'll just be more careful this time around, Leo won't have to know a damned thing. Not that he pays enough attention to his black sheep sibling in the first place. The first time was a fluke, nothing more and nothing less. He probably wouldn't care if he did catch him.

"Finally, something to keep you productive." Mind-Leo bitches at him. "So lazy, so immature, of course you'd stoop so low. I expected this from you, really."

"Shut up." Mikey mutters. He can't wait for all these stupid thoughts to just stop for a little while. He fumbles with the ziploc bag full of pills for a moment before popping three into his mouth at once.

'Don't take these alone' Muffin had warned. Mikey doesn't think he's alone though, His brothers are close by, the only thing separating him from them is a door. If anything goes horribly wrong then he should be fine, all he has to do is yell. He's being perfectly responsible and really he shouldn't be blamed for being so desperate when he hasn't had a fix in so long.

With that thought in mind, he grins and leans against the side of his bed as he waits for his inevitable dose of happiness.

"What happened to your shoulder?"

Donnie is the first one in the kitchen. Knowing him, there's a good possibility that he hasn't slept, but Mikey can't really judge because he hasn't either. E is still making its rounds, keeping him up and alert. He probably won't be asleep again for a while.

Mikey throws a glance at his bandaged shoulder as he whisks some eggs. He's going to make ham and cheese omelettes, because that's Raph's favorite and he feels bad for worrying him and lying to him.

"I went to the surface last night to do some tagging. Some dudes painted over my last tag and I got kinda mad with em." He repeats his words from the night before near verbatim, but makes sure to keep his tone upbeat and preppy. "One of em nicked me with a knife, wasn't all that bad but I still needed to wrap it."

"Did you-"

"Put that cream stuff on it? You bet. No infections are gunna happen here, my dude."

Donnie hums before strolling over to the coffee machine. Apparently that was enough to ease his worries. "Does Leo know you went out last night?"

If it weren't for the E he would have panicked. But he was on autopilot, and he doesn't have time to process emotions. He lets the happy pill speak for him, more than relieved for the chance to let it take reign over him once again. It's been too long, old friend.

"He told me."

Mikey and Donnie both jump at the appearance of Raphael, who's leaning against the kitchen doorway. The smell of Mikey's amazing cooking must have drawn him in. And, of course, since it's Raph's favorite breakfast food, he'd come to his defense. Sometimes it's great having an older brother who's morally screwed up.

Donnie doesn't say anything else, just pours himself a cup of joe and sits down at their raggedy kitchen table. Mikey thinks it's funny Don can spend hours working on a phone that looks like a shell but can't spare fifteen minutes to make a new table.

At least his priorities are straight.

The turtle makes Raph a plate and hands it off to him before making his own eggs. Soon, Leo will come wondering in from morning meditation and he'll want a cup of tea. He's got to put that on the burner soon or else Leo will walk in and there won't be any tea. And maybe Master Splinter will want some, too. He doesn't want them to-

"Mikey."

Mikey blinks and looks away from the wall he was staring at. Donnie is giving him a strange look. Raph is too busy shoveling food in his mouth to really notice his surroundings, but if he wasn't, Mikey is one hundred percent sure he'd be making the exact same face as Donatello.

"Yeah, bro?"

"...Your tea is boiling over."

He doesn't even remember putting anything on the burner. How long had he been standing there, just staring off into nothing? Mikey doesn't want to go down that rabbit hole again, thinking about time just makes more time disappear and then he's left wondering what happened to that time too.

The turtle laughs, and turns the stove off. "I didn't even realize it, oops."

Leo walks in as he's pouring the tea into his favorite tea cup. "Is that-"

"Cinnamon apple tea? You bet your ass bro. Made especially for you, too." He tosses in a little wink and Leo chuckles as he wanders over to the counter to grab his cup.

"You're the best, Mikey."

A warm, happy, non-E related feeling floods his system.

It feels way better than the drug ever could. He wishes his brothers complimented him more. "I know, I know, I'm clearly the superior turtle here."

Raph snorts.

"You wish."

Mikey stares at the blank canvas in front of him. His acrylics lay in a box next to his feet and the sketching pencil in his hand is making his fingers go numb. He rarely paints, because art supplies are hard to come by if you want to get them honestly. If it was up to him, he'd steal. But stealing would lead to questions like;

"How did you get stuff in this quality?"

Or

"Where'd you get these? We'll have to raid that dumpster next."

And then they'd find out he was lying and that he stole some supplies, which would then lead to them making him take it all back. Too much work, too much of a debacle, and then they'd tell Splinter and he'd be forced to meditate with him for hours on why what he did was dishonourable.

He shudders to think of the boredom that would cause him.

Right now, all his creative juices have left his body. It must be because he's on the verge of crashing. E crashes suck like a bitch. Back when he was an avid user, he was always on E. There wasn't any opportunity for him to crash. But he needs to conserve his happy candies for now. Mikey doesn't need to become reliant on them.

However...He's got a whole jar of powder in his box. His nostril flares and the canvas mocks him. He grabs his palette, which is probably older than he is and layered with years worth of paint, and walks over to his bed. He sits down beside it like he did last night and reaches under once more, pulling out the box.

He sets his pallet in his lap and unscrews the jar. Very gently, he tips a little bit onto the pallet before screwing the lid closed again and settling it back into the box. Next, he grabs the Blockbuster card and sets to work on dividing two neat lines. Just enough to keep him high and give him some creative energy, that's all.

Before he quit he could do four long rows, this is nothing in comparison.

He puts a finger over one of his nostrils and bends down.

This is good.

This is fine.

He's okay.

Fifteen minutes later he's got his paintbrush in hand and his clean pallet in the other one. He's nice and dreamy, and a once blank mind suddenly swarms with colors and visions of what to paint. He settles on using real life and conjures up an image of the prettiest mutant he knows: Muffin.

Mikey doesn't even need to sketch anything, he just sets right to work. The end result is this;

Muffin sprawled across a bed of purple satin, his lithe form twisted in pleasure and his face thrown back in ecstacy and his long, pink cock spurting liquid across his soft tummy. His fur is painted using the same method he paints clouds with, so it almost looks like Muffin is a dream himself.

Leonardo walks into his bedroom just as he's applying the finishing touches to Muffin's cock. He's well acquainted with it, after all, and knows how to get every detail down just right.

"Mikey, it's time for training." Leo says, merely throwing a glance at his painting before pausing and doing a double take. The shock is written clear as day on his face.

Mikey turns away from his painting and greets Leo with a dopey smile. "Hey Leo, gimmie like…" He trails off, forgetting his line of thought for a moment. His face brightens considerably when he remembers. "Ten minutes! Gimmie ten minutes."

Leo is still looking at his painting, blushing like a virgin. Mikey snorts. Probably because he is a virgin.

"I'm not blushing, and you're a virgin too." Leo snaps, but he sounds more flustered than anything. Mikey realizes he spoke out loud. Oh well, not like he said anything incriminating. He merely smiles wider in response. "Mikey, this is…this is pornographic."

"Uh. Duh. That's kind of the point of drawing dicks bro."

Leo bites his lip. It's entertaining seeing him like this.

(What would he be like, beneath him?

Would he be shy? Let Mikey take the lead?

Or would he dominate and make Mikey his bitch?

If it weren't for the powder, he bets his dick would have stirred.)

"Is that...is that what... what you like?"

"Hm?"

Leo swallows.

"Dick?"

Mikey's grin turns lecherous. "I like it all, bro. The Mikester doesn't discriminate."

"I see." The other closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before opening them again and looking directly at Mikey. The air around him is much more serious now. Leader mode activated, he thinks with a giggle. "Be at the dojo in ten minutes."

"Ay ay, captain."

Leo exits the room without sparing Mikey's creation another glance.

The snapping turtle doesn't come back for seconds. Mikey would be lying if he said it didn't disappoint him. He'd never been acquainted with a dick quite like the stranger's. He wishes he at least got his name so he could ask around for him.

Mikey waits around in his stall for an hour but business is slow tonight. People aren't looking for a gloryhole blowjob today, it'd seem. He sighs and pushes himself up onto his feet. Time to look for new partners. Muffin is busy downstairs participating in a bukkake. Normally, Mikey would jump on the opportunity but for some reason he just wasn't feeling it.

He sulks his ways down the stairs.

Everything just feels so...cold. And he feels nervous, too. Really anxious. Kind of paranoid. But he doesn't know why, and he doesn't think he does want to know. Some things are left best in the dark.

When he makes it downstairs he scans the area for an easy target, someone he can just saunter over to and lead to the back rooms. The back rooms are special, for extra privacy. Before, the community was a walmart warehouse on the outskirts of the city so there are a couple of offices scattered throughout the building. All of the downstair ones were converted into bedrooms.

It was a nice place to have a quickie. Mikey liked fucking in public just as much as the next freak but sometimes being behind a closed door is just as good.

Timothy is busy plowing a cat mutant off in a corner, and Muffin is busy sucking dick near the couches that are clustered in the middle of the open area. The two make eye contact for a moment before the poodle gets right back to business. Mikey scans some more before his eyes land on Eddie, a moose mutant from Canada. Eddie is huge, bigger than Timothy, and supposedly an easy fuck.

Mikey had only ever sucked his dick. He can't help but wonder what It'd be like to have that jammed up his cloaca.

Well, that's decided.

He makes his way over to Eddie, who's leaned up against a wall near the back rooms, and brushes his fingers against the moose's bicep. Eddie twitches, and glances away from the pipe he was preparing to look down at the turtle who bothered him.

"Hey Eddie." He churrs. Eddie tilts his head, his giant antlers coming close to knocking him right in the face.

"Hello, Angie." He greets good naturedly, probably guessing where this interaction was about to lead them.

"Are you busy?"

Eddie puts down his pipe. "Nah, what did you have in mind?"

He smirks, and uses actions instead of words. Mikey leads him to the back, making sure to sway his hips in an extremely suggestive manner. He feels Eddie's eyes bore into the back of his skull and he has to fight to keep the grin off of his face. If he can't have a snapping turtle with a big dick he'll have to settle for the next biggest thing.

The door he opens leads them to a plain bedroom suite. There's a dresser, and a king sized bed with cream colored sheets.

He guides Eddie to the bed and sits down on the edge. Eddie sets his hands on his shoulder and rubs gently as Mikey unbuttons his pants. He's very, very proud to see the moose already sporting a half hard cock. To know that someone doesn't need any stimulation to get hard because of him...it's flattering, to say the least.

"You're so big." He purrs.

It causes Eddie to chuckle. "You sure know how to talk."

Mikey grins and shoots him a wink before pulling his underwear down and gripping his cock in his hand. He's huge, Mikey wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. His mouth waters, he can't wait to have this log in his mouth. "I'm gunna suck you now, okay?"

Eddie nods and Mikey doesn't hesitate to get to work.

He suckles on the tip and massages the shaft, hyping himself up to shove the whole thing in his mouth when a loud banging noise shocks him. It sounds like a door being slammed upon and he realizes it's their room that's being invaded. Eddie jumps, and stumbles back like someone's pulling him. Mikey's hand flies to his belt but he realizes a second too late that he left his nunchucks at home.

Mikey falls to the ground with a yelp and he jumps up, ready to defend his partner when his eyes meet cold amber.

"Mikey." Leo says. "We need to talk."