Author's Notes: The turtles working through some unresolved issues in this chapter and Raph not knowing how to deal with feelings or change. :0)
After all the Mikey love the last chapter got I wrote a short one-shot from his POV. It's entitled "I Understand," and takes place when the boys are about 12-13. I tried to lean towards adorable and may have landed on sad instead.
Chapter Twenty Three
I might have miscalculated when I said it would only take me a couple hours to hack the security system. Two hours has come and gone and I'm not much closer to my goal. The pathways aren't clear and the code doesn't follow any standard protocol I'm versed in. The slight spin in my head and the ever growing ache in my joints does nothing to help me focus on the task or circumvent the firewall. I sigh and rub my eyes, hoping to clear my vision of some of its haze. The ache in my body has upgraded to pain and I wince at every small movement, unable to find any position that brings relief.
You can't even sit up without getting exhausted. Pathetic.
I lean back against Michelangelo, my shell connecting with his shoulder. He's sleeping, has been for the better part of an hour. I don't wake him. He looks content and it only seems fair that one of us gets to be. I roll my shoulders back and curl my toes, forcing back a tiny grunt when pain flashes bright and mainly settles in my knees and hips. The all too familiar sound of flatware scuttling across a food tray pulls my attention away from the computer screen and I glance up at Raphael bringing the promised lunch over to the bedside table.
"Get through?" he asks.
He sounds like he's only asking to fill the silence, as though the answer is obvious. Of course I would have gotten through by now. I said I could and there isn't any reason for me to be struggling. Except of course for the pain and the spinning in my head, and the fact that I can only type with one hand; not my dominant one if we're being honest. I let out a frustrated sigh and the ridge above his eye lifts in question.
"Almost," I mutter, not sounding in the least bit convincing.
"Take a break," he says, his voice and the smell of food rousing Mikey from his nap. "Eat your lunch."
"What'd ya bring?" Mikey asks around a yawn. He stretches his arms above his head and smacks his lips together loudly. Every movement I'm sure exaggerated with the sole purpose of annoying our brother.
"Nothing for you," Raph replies and he slaps Mikey's hand away from the tray.
Mikey laughs and I take the moment of distraction to get in a few hurried keystrokes before Raph loses his temper and slams the laptop shut.
"Don't," I say, holding my hand onto the screen when he tries to close it. "I've almost got the schematics," I add quickly before he snaps at me.
Click. Click. Click.
I lean closer to the screen and try to ignore the pain shooting up my back. I move through a grouping of files and hold my breath when I click on the one in question. It opens. Relief, glorious, wonderful, relief floods over me and I feel a grin spread across my face. It isn't exactly access to the entire system, or even most of the system, but it's something. It's a start and it means I haven't been wasting my time.
The schematics are far more detailed than the first set of blueprints I came across. There are entry points and access codes, with the layout of the entire fiber-optic network broken down by floor. I can pinpoint the location of the security cameras and alarm stations. With some time, and further study I'll be able to figure out the best point of entry before I tackle taking over or at least piggybacking on the security feed. Even with such precise schematics I won't feel right about sending my brothers into this maze without at least being able to see where they're going in real time.
"Ha!" I exclaim, clicking through a few more files with that excited little chuckle I save for the beginning of a breakthrough. "Soon we'll be able to see the entire facility."
Raphael grabs hold of the computer before I can stop him. Instinctively I reach out with both hands and instantly regret it when pain makes my breath hiss and my vision blur. I grit my teeth and curl forward, resting my hand against my plastron until the pain lessons and I can focus on something just as unrelenting; anger.
"What…are you doing?!" I cry and I think he might look surprised but he covers it with a scowl.
"You're taking a break," he says, holding my computer out of reach. "Eat something and you can have this back."
I take a slow breath in through my nose and ball my left hand into a fist. Mikey's hand is on my forearm and I'm sure he can see what's coming. I ignore him. Those feelings I was trying to shove down, the lingering betrayal and anger, they're just below the surface now and I'm too tired and the pain in my hand is still too present for me to hold them back any longer.
"I was in the middle of something, you idiot," I sneer in Raphael's direction. "Give me back my computer now," I insist, my voice low and veiled with threats of violence I could never deliver on.
He doesn't move a muscle, so I pounce before he can muster a sarcastic response.
"I don't need you to tell me when to eat or when to rest! I'm not some pathetic child. I can make my own decisions. I can take care of myself. I don't…"
"Expect anything from me," he finishes and there's a tremble to his words that's like ice water in my veins.
You did it again. You're selfish and you hurt someone. You're wrong.
Mikey's hand tightens on my arm and his eyes are almost perfect circles. "All right, guys, why don't you both just take a breath? Nobody wants to say something they'll regret."
Raphael drops my laptop onto the bed and cracks his neck to one side. "Make sure he eats something, Mikey. Maybe he'll listen to you," he mutters and I feel the ice water thaw as he acts like I'm not in the room.
"Why didn't you stop him?" I ask. The questioning rips out of the dark place where I thought I had my anger in check and I can't shove it back down.
Raphael pauses and his shoulders tense. "What are you talking about?" he grumbles, still keeping his back to me.
"Master Splinter," I say a bitter taste rolling over my tongue at the memory of it. "He drugged me. He…I wasn't…he drugged me and you and Leo just stood there and let him."
Mikey's grip is almost painful on my arm and he turns his eyes towards our brother expectantly. Raphael doesn't say anything and I almost expect him to pretend he didn't hear me. I wouldn't be surprised. He's usually not one for listening to what I have to say. His hands relax and when he finally turns around I'm not prepared for the open and raw emotion on his face.
"I didn't," he says. The words are a barely intelligible whisper and he plows on with more force. "I didn't, Donnie. I had no idea what Sensei was doing. I would never stand by and let someone hurt you, any of you, how could you even think that?"
Selfish. Broken. Wrong. Push them all away and no one will ever try to help you again. Then you'll be all alone. Maybe that's what you want.
"I thought…" I stumble over the words and I have to look down. I can feel his eyes burrowing into me and Mikey's hand is still wrapped tightly around my arm without any indication that he intends to let go. "You don't think I can do anything on my own," I mumble, afraid that if I don't say it now I never will. "You all think I'm broken and…and I thought he was going to cut my hand off and I was…I was scared and the two of you just stood there. You tell me what to do and butt into things that are none of your business and when I needed help…when I…when I needed you, you just stood there."
I curl forward even more, rounding out my shell and cradling my hand in my lap. The longer he goes without saying anything the more I regret ever opening my mouth. If he didn't think I was broken before he most assuredly must now. I admitted to being afraid, which was a bit of a lie if memory serves. What I was in that moment was terrified. You don't admit weakness to Raphael. He saves that stuff away for when you think everything is happiness and sunshine so he can remind you what life is really like. He already thinks I'm pathetic. I don't need to give him ammo to help that assumption along.
I'm not surprised when Mikey's arm reaches around my shoulders and he attempts to pull me up against his side. I don't push him away but I tense against the touch and never take my eyes off the offensive bandage around my hand. The bed creaks and every muscle in my body tightens. I don't know why I instantly assume Raph is going to hit me. It's embarrassing and mean and I keep the thought to myself.
"I'm sorry," he says and the word is forced out around a deep cough. "That's not, I don't think any of that, Don," he sighs and there's a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice with each new word that passes his lips. "But for someone who's supposed to be a genius you can be really stupid sometimes."
What did he just say?
"Excuse me?" I mumble, lifting my gaze so I can match his annoyed tone with a glare.
"If we left it up to you, you'd probably starve to death or forget to sleep for days. You get so wrapped up in your work you stop taking care of yourself," he says, mowing me down when I attempt to open my mouth against his accusations. "I'm sorry it all went down this way, but I really didn't know what Sensei planned to do. You weren't the only one he left in the dark you weren't the only one who was scared," he balls his hand into a fist and stops short of punching my shoulder. "You ain't broken, but you are hurt and you can resent me all ya want but I'm not going to stop taking care of you. You're my brother and that's my job."
Mikey's grip loosens on my shoulder, but he doesn't pull his arm away as he looks between the two of us like he's watching a tennis match. "Now you say you're sorry, Donnie," he says, pushing me gently in Raph's direction.
"What? Why?" I demand, trying to shrug out from underneath his arm with little success.
"You know, for being such a lousy patient," he replies with a tentative smile. "And for calling Raph an idiot."
"He called me stupid," I retort and instantly regret the childish reply when even Michelangelo rolls his eyes at it.
I sigh and rub my eyes. "Fine," I mumble, grinding my teeth. "I'm sorry I called you an idiot," I sigh again when Mikey nods his head for me to continue. "And for not being more grateful for your help."
You're selfish and mean.
"There, see, was that so hard?" Mikey asks with a grin and a clap of his hands. "You know, you two could save yourselves a lot of grief if you would just talk to each other when something is bothering you."
"Shut up, Mikey," Raph says but there isn't the usual anger behind the command. He leans over and takes the tray from the nightstand, setting it in front of me. "Eat," he says, squinting and then adding. "Please."
I nod and start to pick apart the sandwich with little, tentative bites. The slow introduction of food to my empty stomach reminds me how hungry I actually am and my stomach gives a low growl. Raphael leans across the bed to snag my laptop and I'm grateful he doesn't seem intent on lingering on what just happened. I'm embarrassed and ashamed and I have a feeling he is too. Better to just act like it never happened and let Mikey grin and think he fixed us.
"So schematics, huh?" Raphael asks, looking down at the screen with a crinkle of confusion.
"Yeah, don't…don't touch the keys," I say, holding my hand out and wincing when I think he's going to start typing. "I'll lose my place."
"You mean these keys?" he asks, feigning ignorance as he threatens to press down.
"I'm serious, Raphael," I say, hearing my voice grow shrill despite my best efforts to stop that from happening. "That took me hours."
"How do you get them out?" he asks, shaking the entire laptop like a giant magic eight ball.
I make a noise that is like the unholy offspring of a squeal and a grunt and by his smirk I know I've fallen into his trap. "Jerk," I grumble, snagging the computer from his grasp and carefully setting it on the bedside table.
Raphael snickers and his arm is around my shoulder, pulling me close for a brief second. It's his real apology and guilt and shame burn together in my chest. The half-embrace only lasts a few seconds and he gently pushes away with another laugh. I shouldn't think so little of my brothers. I shouldn't let the dark thoughts win out over logic and the truth. They don't deserve it, they're better than that and so am I. I'm stronger than my doubt and anxiety. I can beat it and I shouldn't take out my failures on them when I don't.
"Seriously, eat your lunch. You can't afford to get any skinnier," he says, picking my left hand up by the wrist and wiggling the arm as if to emphasize my weight loss.
"I'm lithe," I reply around a proper bite of the sandwich, my correction making him roll his eyes.
"Yeah, like a ballerina," Mikey says.
He's trying to help and part of me is proud of the accuracy of his vocabulary, the rest of me grimaces at the boisterous laugh it elicits from Raphael.
"Yes, Mikey, exactly," he says between chuckles.
I'm about to come up with a cutting reply, maybe something about his height, when my T-Phone buzzes and clatters across the nightstand. I try to grab it. There's really only one person it could be and whatever she has to say it isn't something that needs to be shared. Raph is faster than me and my heart drops when his hand closes around the phone and he holds it from my reach.
"Give that to me," I demand, only saved from knocking over my drink by Mikey's quick reflexes.
"Hmm, it's April. Mikey, should we see what she has to say?" Raph asks, looking down at the screen and tapping his finger along his jaw.
He's teasing. He thinks it's funny. I don't. His earlier comments about April and I are still too fresh in my mind and I don't want him making fun of the one good thing I have. I try to sit up further and reach for the phone but my vision blackens around the edges and fainting becomes a very real possibility. I lean forward to focus on my breathing. There's a hand resting on my forearm…and that hand is holding my phone.
Get it!
I snag the phone with a triumphant cry. Another wave of dizziness takes some of the celebration out of my small victory. I keep the phone held to my chest and inch back against the headboard for some much-needed support.
"What did she say?" Mikey asks, his mouth spreading into a grin.
"Probably better not knowing, little brother," Raph answers for me and there's nothing even close to a smile on his face. "Shoulda seen the two of them in the shower, ruttin' like animals."
"That is not, no we weren't," I say, stumbling over my anger and embarrassment to get the words out; the crudeness of his accusation catching me by surprise.
"Oh, so she wasn't on your lap with your hands…"
"That's not," I stop him short and curse the blush burning across my face. "We weren't…do you even know what rutting means?"
"I do," Mikey says with another grin and a playful elbow to my side.
So this is what hell is like. Why not invite Master Splinter in here to talk about preserving April's honor and your nightmare will be complete.
"It's none of your business," I say, getting more flustered with each passing second. Master Splinter was right about one thing, I had April's honor to consider. "And don't talk about her like that. It's private."
"Look who's suddenly the gentleman," Raph scoffs and the teasing tone from before is covered in something less innocent.
"And look who's jealous," Mikey says with a snicker and wiggle of his finger in Raph's direction.
Now it's Raph's turn to get flustered and it's a beautiful thing to behold. On him it almost looks like anger, like most things do, but there are subtle changes that make all the difference. He's standing and pacing and jabbing his finger in Mikey's direction while letting out hisses and grunts. He's lost the upper hand and it has unbalanced him.
"Jealous of what?" he says with a mean-spirited laugh and a cuff to the back of Michelangelo's head. "Yeah, you got it all figured out, Mikey," he sneers. "I'm jealous."
"Calls 'em like I sees 'em," Mikey replies with a shrug, ducking another swing of Raph's fist.
Raph's eyes narrow and his hands shake at his side as he turns his attention towards me. "Eat your damn lunch and get through that security system. We've wasted enough time already," he says, stalking across the room and pushing the bedroom door open with his fist.
Mikey waits a few seconds to make sure he's out of earshot before laughing.
"He's…he's not really jealous," I murmur, the idea too ridiculous to entertain.
"Nah, probably not," Mikey says with a dismissive wave of his hand and an ever growing grin. "But look how mad he got when I said he was."
