Mikey and Casey fans, this chapter is for youuuuu! :3
"I told you guys you were too harsh with him!" April scolds them, trying her hardest not to rip her hair out. "Now he's up and disappeared!"
"I don't think you need to worry about him, April," Leo tries to ease her fears. "Raph disappears when he's emotional all the time."
"Watch yourself, Leo," Raph scolds as he scrubs the melted remnants of Ice Cream Kitty's ice cream off the wall. "Your leg may be off limits, but your face is still punchable."
Leo rolls his eyes and motions his head in Raph's direction, as if to tell April 'See what I mean?'
April growls to herself in frustration as the entire point of what they're dealing with flies over their heads. "It's not about what we should expect to happen; it's about what already happened! And with you especially, Raph! What you said was seriously uncalled for, and I'm done just standing by and letting you talk to him like that! You are out of line."
He turns to her with a scowl, "Whaddya mean?! He should know better than to make messes like this, especially for the THIRD TIME in a week! And then to disappear instead of cleaning it up first? Even worse! If anyone's acting out of line, it's him."
Donnie, often the one who trusts April's thoughts and feelings about a situation, is quick to jump to her defense, "I don't know guys, I think she's right. Maybe we should've handled that more… Maturely?"
Raph shoots him a glare before turning back to the persistent stain, mumbling curses under his breath.
Casey scratches his cheek nonchalantly as he lounges on the recliner, already finished with his cleaning task. On one hand, he agrees with the two eldest brothers– he'd be pissed as all Hell if Angel left a mess like that at someone else's house. Not to mention unexpected since, just like Mikey, Angel has always done really well at keeping her messes inside her room.
Mikey, a teenager only a year and a half younger than himself, trashed the place with pure enjoyment and fun today, even after being scolded multiple times for doing so "on accident" this past week. Almost like he's seeking attention, something he only ever does when he's feeling out of the loop.
On the other hand, he would never talk to Angel like Raph did. Would he scold her? Yes, one hundred percent. But insulting her in that manner? Casey doesn't know what it is, but since Leo's woken up, Raph has been unusually venomous to Mikey, and it doesn't help that none of them believed Mikey's "vibes" about the Other-Mother (a name he finds to be more suiting than Michelangelo's 'Mom-Thing'). He may still have some unconscious frustrations about that whole dilemma.
Plus, considering how little attention he's gotten from his brothers the last three and a half months, damn, no wonder he's making a mess. Casey almost feels bad that they all got so mad at him.
Should he say something about it? Is it his business? He's not like April, he doesn't intrude on family issues all that much. It made him choke when Leo had explained why he thought he should've been left behind by them all, and that's exactly why he doesn't like to be nosy. He worries enough about his own family; he doesn't want to think about the problems in other people's lives.
It reminds him of how surprised he was when he found out how overprotective April's dad was after her Mom disappeared. Her first real taste of freedom outside of school and home was her time staying with the turtles and staying with her aunt.
It wasn't until Splinter himself defended April's ability to protect herself that Mr. O'Neil started giving her the freedom to go out on her own. Probably will take even more convincing after this sort of disaster.
His stomach lurches uncomfortably at the thought of his family being mutated, unless they had managed to escape, but… Could that be worse?
He sprinted up the dim staircase of his family's apartment, the electricity already lost in this part of the city. He ignored his fleeing neighbors, either screaming about the end of the world or crying uncontrollably.
He almost got slammed by the door as the night-shift nurse next door came flying out of the hallway in her nightgown, robe, and slippers; her yipping chihuahua in her fluffy arms. She must've been rudely awoken by the blaring sirens and panicking neighbors, grabbed her most precious thing, and fled.
He decided to waste a few precious seconds to keep the heavy door open for the others, quickly jamming one of his few pucks under it with his foot. With the door secure, he once again started his way towards home.
But where he should have been met with a door, he was met with its splintered remains. He fought past the lump in his throat, shouting for them both, "Angel?! Pops?"
Silence. His stomach dropped. He must've just missed them. Hopefully they just left without him. He'll be fine, the turtles were waiting for him anyway… But the voice in the back of his head told him that his family would be far safer with him and his friends.
He gently pushed the door open, flinching when it loudly fell off its hinges. His apartment remained silent, his heartbeat and the shouts of the tenants the only sounds echoing in his ears. His moment of fear passed quickly, urgency taking over as he rushed in, searching for clues as to why they left so quickly, unless they were never home in the first place.
He fought the urge to throw up when he saw splatters of mutagen across his living room floor, the window shattered to pieces. He still checked the bedrooms, fighting tears as his brain tried to come up with any possible explanation as to what might have happened. Best case scenarios, of course.
Just because there was mutagen, doesn't mean it ever touched them. It may have just spooked them, and they fled. A likely possibility, so likely, he was sure even Donatello would agree with him, in that matter-of-fact manner of his.
He sighed quietly to himself as he paused in his bedroom doorway, knowing he should be fleeing with the rest of his neighbors. Despite that, he decided to pack up a bag for himself anyway, his awareness getting farther and farther away as he threw spare clothes and electronics into the duffel. Part of him still wondered if he was dreaming this whole thing.
He paused, considering that all of them would be taking shelter away from the city. They'd need food. He ran to his kitchen, sickeningly assuming that his family would not be coming back for the untouched cans of soups and vegetables filling their creaky cabinets. He ransacked the fridge and pantry of anything non-perishable, then the drawers for any useful tools and items.
His mind reeled back to some of the camping survival trips his dad would take him on, back when Mom was alive and Angel was just a baby. His brain ran through the lists of all the things a group of people could need to survive: matches, lighters, batteries, a flashlight, first aid items—
The building shook suddenly, causing debris to come crumbling down at the ceiling's corners. Shit. He rushed to zip up the now twice as heavy bag and swung it across his chest, his arm gripping it close to his body as he made a wobbly dash towards the open entrance.
Grabbing his puck on the way downstairs, he slowed down as he reached the apartment's front entrance, wary of any possible Kraang-bots that might be right outside. He checked to make sure the coast was clear, eyeing up and down the deserted street.
It was almost dead silent outside… Save for the faraway screams of fleeing New Yorkers, wailing sirens, and the ground-shaking stomps of Kraang Prime. He almost expected a tumbleweed to blow by.
As he drove his way back towards April's apartment– thankfully no one had hijacked the van just a couple of alleyways over– he couldn't fight off the horrid thoughts plaguing his mind about his likely mutated family, his best friend's brother beaten to a bloody pulp, and the upcoming future of the world as they knew it.
This was so fucked.
He comes back to the present as Raph steps off the stool, scowling and irritated at April's extensive lecture on encouraging better behavior. "Insulting him isn't going to encourage him to stay and clean, it just makes cleaning feel pointless. Why clean if he's already a screw up?"
"Okay, fine, calling him a screw up was a bit harsh, but he's used to that! He's heard worse from me! I say shit like that all the time, he knows I don't mean it!" Raphael bites back, disliking her accusatory tone.
"Does he know that? Have you TOLD him with your SUPER KIND WORDS that he DOES matter and he's NOT a screw up? You've been so uptight around him lately, too! What's up with that?"
Casey's throat gets tight, wary that, while not necessarily shouting, their voices are tense and angry. He eyes Donnie's nervous glances back and forth between his crush and brother, not sure how to ease the flames erupting in front of him.
Leo's rough voice cuts through the atmosphere like a blade, "April, we appreciate your input, truly, but maybe we can talk about this another time?"
"Yeah, like never?" Raph sneers, moving on to the next stain to scrub. "At least I'm helping clean up his mess, because that's all I ever seem to do with you guys! Cleaning up your messes. Gettin' sick of it."
Noticing Leo's flinch at the unexpected jab, April fights the urge to stomp her foot in frustration, "Do you ever think before you speak? Have you really not thought of why he's making such a big mess? Whether it's an accident or not, it's not just something he'd come up with doing on a whim! How about talking to him instead of yelling at him? Maybe there's a good reason for it, and we need to help solve the problem!"
Raph mercilessly scrubs at the floor, trying to ignore her blatant attitude with his behavior. "Then he should talk! He should just talk instead of keeping quiet about it!"
"Oh hoooo, that's hilarious coming from you," April hisses. "Like we all aren't doing it ourselves, don't kid yourself, Raph. We've all got our own issues, and we're not doing the best job at handling them as a team."
"I know," He says curtly as he scrubs off the last of the stain. He rigidly stands and slams the scrubber into the soapy bucket, the sudsy water splashing on his legs. He growls lowly, balling his hands into fists. He glances at her from the side, his frustration barely contained behind a small scowl. He bites out each word through clenched teeth, "At least I'm mindin' my business and not trying to stuff my opinions down your throat. You may be my friend, but I'm not gonna obey everything you tell me to do just because you think I'm 'too much'. I barely listen to Leo. If you wanna talk about our problems, leave me out of it."
Casey can't stop himself from rolling his eyes as Raph grumpily exits the living room, growing tired of Raph's newest form of his tough guy act. He looks over at the two brothers, who also seem to have realized what Raph's been doing.
Something's bugging Raphael, and while Casey's not always great at reading the room, he can read his friends. He listens to them more than they realize, and it's greatly obvious, like April said, that they all have something bothering them.
Himself included, no matter how much he pretends he's fine. Mikey and April have been the only ones capable of picking up on it their entire time here. Raph isolated himself from everyone, an empty shell of what he used to be, while Leo was, well, practically dead to the world.
Donnie and him butt heads, but they still spent time together in the barn working on their own things, bickering to each other as some type of strange catharsis. Working on lessening their need to fight each other turned them into using their words only, in the most passive aggressive way possible. And all for April's sake, because she's their friend before anything, something they both agree on.
Even if Donnie's the one always starting our fights.
April glances hotly at him, as though she somehow knows exactly what he's thinking about. A chill runs up his spine at her piercing gaze, sure that she's also annoyed he didn't back her up while she mothered his best friend.
He gives her a tired shrug, unwilling to rip open such a big bag of worms tonight. Mikey has been gone for nearly 24 hours, and because of how close he is to Raph, Mikey is also like a little brother to him at this point. He'll admit that he too is starting to worry about the playful turtle.
Probably not as much as Raph is right now, though. Casey can bet that he just refuses to admit he might be wrong, or that he might have overreacted just a bit, unable to realize how his harsh words could affect his baby brother.
It makes him wonder if he should feel guilty for being so harsh with Donnie, and if Donnie ever feels guilty for how he talks to Casey. But maybe that's a different situation. Maybe.
The hug that Raph had given him back at the– Frog Fortress? Fortress of Frogs? Frogs of the Fortress?– had Mikey forgiving his brother in an instant. He shouldn't, he knows, but he can't help it. The fact that his hot-tempered, hug-hating brother had squeezed him so tight in pure relief at seeing him, lifting him up in the air in excitement– oh man, he's not even gonna poke fun at him for it. That hug spoke a thousand words Raph obviously sucks at saying.
On their way back home, he genuinely thought that would be the end of it, and that things would go back to normal as soon as they stepped through the front door.
Until he notices the broken windows and furniture in the living room, leftover debris from the frog army's weapons strewn about the yard. His throat gets tight as Raph groans at his side.
April huffs a defeated sigh as she stares at the damage, "I'm beginning to wonder if this place will ever stay clean."
Leo attempts to fight off a yawn, but fails, "I hate to admit this, but I'm exhausted. Do you think we can wait until morning to fix this?"
Raph scoffs, "It already is morning. You are going to bed. We can fix it up ourselves. Take a load off, Leo."
"Who's this 'we' you speak of? I'm with Leo, let's just wait until sunrise. It's late, even for me," Donnie chimes in as he crosses his arms. "Let me at least get four hours or something, I'm sure Casey and I can fix up most of it in the morning."
"Yeah," Casey quickly agrees. "I don't mind helping out– though uhhhh, I'll definitely need more than four hours."
Before Donnie can sarcastically retort, Raphael shakes his head and raises his hand to silence the group. "By we," He slings an arm around Mikey's suddenly tense shoulders. "I mean me and Mike. The rest of ya go sleep, you can help with finishing up when you're awake."
His demeanor is lowkey threatening, and Mikey immediately gives the rest of the group a mean set of puppy eyes. Surely someone will rescue him from the emotional beat down he's about to receive, for sure April or Leo– but to his shock, April is the first to accept Raph's offer.
And apparently her choice surprised the rest of them as well, but as for why, he's unsure. Slowly, everyone save for him and Raph, follow quietly behind her as she leads the way to the wooden porch. Mikey tries to slip away from him while Raph's eyes are glued to the back of April's head, a questioning look on his face. To his chagrin, he's easily stopped by a single hand gripping the top edge of his shell.
"Nuh-uh, you brought this on yourself, bud," Raph mutters softly, his voice tired. "And so did I. So we're fixing our mess together, got it?"
The rueful confession catches Mikey off-guard, unprepared for the lack of shouting and foul language. The back of his head isn't stinging from a slap, but simply nudged forward towards the rubble at the front of the house. Raph walks past him and starts picking up shattered glass, splintered wood, and the lingering tips and ties from the frogs' primitive weapons.
Mikey doesn't waste much time joining in on the cleaning, fearing the possibility of an even harsher scolding than before if he just dumbly stands there. He doesn't say a word the entire time, his throat dry and an odd pressure behind his eyes as he calmly and quickly aids his unusually silent brother.
His mind reels about how this all came to happen, how this could've gone differently, and what he could have done to avoid this awful tension between him and everyone else.
Yeah, he likes to get on his bros' nerves every so often, he's their little brother! The cute one, the goofy one, the prankster that keeps everyone on their toes. They all have their roles when they're around each other, right? Annoying his brothers is a part of that, whether it's to make Master Splinter laugh at his cheeky antics, by making everyone groan with his stupid and out-of-the-box ideas, or by bringing up the imaginary monsters they'd fight in their early days of playing pretend.
And honestly, he doesn't know how to turn it off. His brothers, for the most part, have learned how to turn down the notch to their personalities when they need to, and he's tried. But he feels like when he does finally turn it off, he's just ignored.
His frustrations aren't taken seriously, and when he's actually feeling hurt by something they said, it's met like his feelings are some sort of joke. He knows it's just all a part of their dynamic, and he knows he's done the same to his brothers, they all do it to each other… But he often wonders if they think his role as the family screw up goofball is all he is, and that there's nothing else to him besides that.
They are soft with him, sometimes, but it's never around the others, and if he's honest, it's the same with all of his brothers. For some reason, everyone seems to have their guard up, even with him of all people! Raph refusing to talk to him during Leo's coma already made him feel like shit, and April was his saving grace during that time more than anyone else.
But ever since Mom-Thing, he's been feeling like his leftover pizza must feel when it gets shoved too far under his bed, completely forgotten until he catches a whiff of a stench that curdles even his iron stomach.
Being ignored and alone makes him itch with some sort of desperation in his actions, boiling inside him until it bubbles over. He needs to do something because he has little to distract him, save for his extravagant daydreams… Like the one he had yesterday morning.
The TV had nothing interesting on, since the newest episode of Crognard is supposed to air tonight, and he needed something to keep him from just sitting and festering like the food left in their fridge back at the lair.
It's a new thing, not having his own bedroom to mess around and daydream in on days he can't sleep. Donnie once said being active during a daydream can help with tiring him out, though he soon figured out Dee just meant walking or dancing, which he did eventually start to do.
But he had misunderstood at first, and would practice his rad ninja skills in his bedroom instead, his radio softly playing his upbeat music so as to not wake the rest of his family. He had every step in his room memorized, so usually he never broke anything, at most stubbed his toe or hit the concrete wall a little too hard with his fists. All that happened yesterday, and twice before, was that he got too carried away in a new environment. They genuinely were accidents, but he doesn't know how to explain all of this to the rest of the team.
He doesn't know how to explain that he gets just as angry as Raph sometimes, or how he's afraid that Leo probably thinks Mikey did nothing but chores during his coma. Donnie usually lets him hang out with him in his lab back at home, but he'd been so high strung with Leo's care and the mutagen medicine, Mikey didn't want to bother him, plus the constant bickering between Casey and Donnie always made him uncomfortable, so the barn was a big nono for him unless one of them was gone (which was rare).
It's only been recently that Donnie has gotten back into the routine of wanting to get his brothers together to chat, but he's usually the only one who ever manages to have the guts to say a word about himself during those rare moments.
April, someone he never expected to really be such a close friend to him, showed him a type of grace his brothers hadn't been… Until he almost killed her "mom". Whether or not he was right about it all along, she's been generally quiet around him lately. Is it because of what happened? Is she mad at him for saying "I told you so" afterwards? She's been more friendly with Donnie lately, for pizza's sake!
Maybe he should apologize for being insensitive, especially after this whole mess with the frog tribe. He should have never turned his life into some fantastical story for total strangers, dangerous strangers to hear. It was worse than what happened with Bradford– he didn't just put himself in danger, but he gave away the location of April's home to a possible enemy! He was dejected with how they'd been treating him, yes, but that was no excuse to put them in danger like that.
He really is just a big screw up.
Raph's exhausted sigh startles him out of his racing thoughts, watching as he shakily sits on the first porch step and takes off his mask. "Let's take a break, we've been at this for a bit."
It's only now that he sees the beads of sweat on Raph's forehead sparkling in the dim moonlight. He rubs his own, the back of his hand coming back damp. He didn't realize it could be this warm at this time of night, much less even realize how much time had passed. He must've gotten too stuck in his brain again.
He surveys their work, the wood they salvaged piled at the hole in the old building. They placed the leftovers of the glass and frog weapons in Donnie's makeshift lab in the barn, and even chopped and dragged some thick branches to it. Hopefully Donatello's wood carving skills can seamlessly replace the now nonexistent window.
Raph draws Mikey's attention back to him by patting the spot on the step next to him. "Quit standing there and take a seat, Mike. I'm not gonna bite your head off, I promise."
He says it so softly, so genuinely, the words make his rigid muscles melt in an instant. As he nears the porch, he tries to read the look on Raph's darkened face, the setting rays of the moon barely strong enough to illuminate his brother's bright green eyes.
He plops himself down harder than he meant to, the loud creak of the step making them both freeze.
"Maybe we should move to the swing?"
"Best idea I've heard all day."
After resituating themselves on the porch swing, Mikey can finally get a good look at Raph's exhausted eyes, lit up by the buzzing porchlight. Shockingly, the swarming insects don't seem to bother him as he gently swats one or two away from his sweaty face. Raph stays silent as he reclines on the swing next to him, and the silence begins to make the anxiety bubble in his stomach again.
Should he apologize now? Should he ask for an apology? He doesn't know what to expect from this at all with Raph acting so strange. Heck, he's BEEN acting strange; EVERYONE has! He wants to know why, but no one will say a word to him!
The frustration of it all builds up alongside the tension he feels. He could really use something to eat, just to get his mind off this whole situation.
"Look–" Raph's quiet voice makes him jump, rocking the swing. "Quit that, I'm not here to hound ya!"
Mikey's patience snaps and he growls a Raphael worthy snarl, leaning forward to turn and face the hothead head on. "Then what are we here for?! You're killing me here! How long do I have to wait for you to fucking talk!?"
Oops, that wasn't supposed to come out of my mouth.
He slaps his palm over his mouth, shocked at his own sudden outburst. "S-ry…" He mumbles, muffled by his hand.
Raphael stares at him wide eyed, then a look of understanding flashes across his face. "Shit, April was right all along. I'm such an idiot."
That makes Mikey drop his hand in surprise. Raph admitting April being right about something and calling himself an idiot? That's not normal. "Right about what?"
Raph groans and rubs his dark eyes. "About all of us needing to quit bottling shit up. About something bothering you. About… How harsh I've been with you," The last of his words come out guiltier than he's ever sounded to Mikey's own ears, but then he scowls. "Why haven't you been saying anything if it's been bothering you so much?!"
Mikey scowls right back at him, "Dude! Not a single person here besides April has taken a moment of their time to listen to me, and it hasn't been the same with her since Mom-Thing– probably cause I pissed her off by rubbing about being right in your faces, which I only did because it felt deserved! How many times have I been right about something and none of you listened to a word I have to say?!"
"Mikey-"
"Imagine how I feel every time I talk about how I feel and none of you take me seriously!" Tears burn at the edge of his eyes, everything, not just from the last few months, but the last couple of years, tumbling out in an instant. "I know I'm a screw up, but even screw ups can be right! Screw ups can have feelings! Am I so terrible of a brother that–!"
Raph cuts him off with a tight hug, catching him off guard.
"You're not a screw up, Mikey, I'm the screw up," He corrects him strongly, leaving no room for denial. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, I'm on edge, and gods, I'm so sick of cleaning."
Mikey sniffs a short laugh. "Guess we're both screw ups then."
Raph rubs the back of his shell like Splinter and Leo usually do when comforting them. The effort his least touchy-feely brother is making makes his body go limp, his body relaxing into the hug like it's the best hug he's ever received.
"You aren't a terrible brother, Mikey. In fact, without you here, I probably would've gone insane staying in that bathroom all day," Raph finally speaks his truth, knowing Mikey needed to hear him say it for himself. "This whole time I've been keeping things bottled up because I didn't want to lose it like I did that one night, I didn't even think that avoiding you would make you act out–"
"I wasn't trying to act out," He pulls himself away from Raph's warm embrace, the eldest opting to simply rest a comforting hand on Mikey's shell. "I just got too carried away in my daydream again, which I only ever do when I'm super-duper bored and alone. It helps get the bad stuff outta my head."
"Bad stuff?" Raph presses.
"Like, fear. Anger. Guilt. Loneliness–," At Raph's look of pure understanding, Mikey feels like a lightbulb just went off above his head. "Wait, are you–?"
"Dealing with the same things? Yeah… Just, very differently, I guess." He says, awed by the realization.
Mikey fights a giggle, trying to stay serious. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you need better coping mechanisms."
Raph drops his hand from his shell and gives him a half-hearted glare, "Says the guy that trashed his friend's childhood home and then ran away instead of cleaning it up."
Mikey ducks into his shell in shame, his meek voice a soft echo, "I really need to tell her I'm sorry."
Raphael sighs, "Yeah, you do. I gave you my apology, now you have to give one to us. You have a responsibility to clean up after yourself, got it? Not to mention being more careful in another person's home."
The freckled turtle slowly comes out of his shell and hunches over. "Yeah, I'm sorry…"
"And for having us all worried sick! Don't disappear like that ever again, promise?" At the immediate appearance of Mikey's "pinky", Raphael breathes a sigh of relief for once, offering up his own. "Good, and you can tell everyone else you're sorry before tonight's episode of Crognard."
Mikey gasps excitedly, "You remembered?"
Raph gives him an incredulous look as he stands, "Duh? We're going to watch it with you. It's the first season finale!"
A wide smile spreads across Mikey's face as he hops up to stand next to his brother. "I promise… On one condition!"
"Condition?!"
"Yep!" Mikey's cheeky grin makes Raph's skin crawl. "If you really want me to accept your apology AND to promise never to disappear like that again, you have to apologize in front of everyone tonight, deal?"
Raph sputters, "Why does it matter?"
"It matters to me! Isn't that enough?"
They stare at each other, neither one backing down for a moment. Raphael hates apologies, especially in public. He doesn't like being vulnerable in front of others, but Mikey's smug look forces Raph to accept defeat, knowing that his baby brother has a point.
"Yeah, yeah, it's enough," He begrudgingly agrees, earning him a tight hug of his own from Michelangelo.
"Thanks, Raph," He whispers sweetly, the smug attitude having quickly been replaced with a voice of pure gratitude.
Oh, so it really does matter to him. He pats the top of his lil bro's head, having been all hugged out for the next month, he's sure.
At the very least, the hugs were worth it.