Title: Validation
Summary: Never the perfect son or student or brother, Raphael does the unthinkable. Away from the lair and into an allegiance with Shredder, honor is replaced by his pronounced desire for validation.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership ties to the TMNT fandom or anything else I might reference. Credit to those who do.
SPECIAL THANKS TO! Bella13blue, my own personal Nemesis! (Because everybody needs one.) MY Nemesis has been a good friend; she's a great soundboard and has been kind enough to encourage and offer suggestions on my work for this fic.
Author's Notes: Another short one, as expected. This one is Mikey's.
Questions or comments, submit via review or PM. Thank you.
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CH 39
[Mikey]
Kneeling beside the sofa, forearms resting on the cushions and eyes focused on the unconscious occupant, the orange-masked turtle hummed softly, some strange and nearly tuneless compilation of a few different songs he'd managed to cram together without any thought other than the vaguely disinterested warp-write of 'It sounds good.' And so, his humming progressed, soft, quiet; an abstract art turned audible.
On any other day, under his own definition of normal circumstances, he'd belt out a more lively tune and throw out his limbs in an impressive dance routine; the entirety of his soul bare and upbeat and magnified with the intent to infect others with smiles.
But now was not the time for a rendition of Anarchy Club's song Boss Fight.
Now wasn't the time for tomfoolery.
For now, he savored the moment, the proximity of his brother. So close, and yet so far. 'I've missed you, bro. Like, you don't even know how much. It's been... lonely. Leo's got his head so far up the ass of Meditation, and Donnie spends a lot of time with Casey; it's weird... And I either visit April or stay at the Lair reading your Journals -y'know, all this when we're not busting our shells looking for you. I hope you're okay with us (me and Don, but mostly me) reading the Journals. I mean, when I read 'em, I feel closer to you. You've always had this secret world, and it seemed like no one was ever allowed in it. Like, you always had to be alone there. But, I don't want you to be alone. And I don't want to be alone either. Raph, we're bros. We're supposed to be there for each other. And with you gone, no one's there for anyone. And... I don't even wanna think about how Master Splinter feels. I think he blames himself more than the rest of us, but I know it wasn't his fault. It was all our faults. We pushed you to leave, and you just... didn't come back. But you're here now. You're here, and that's all that matters.'
Understandably choked up, Michelangelo tried to keep as calm as he could.
But this wasn't his forte. He wasn't calm. He wasn't quiet. He wasn't anything of the sort. The entirety of his persona was built around loud and rambunctious, active and excitable. He was the dimwit, the knucklehead, the goofball, and the clown. That's what he was seen as, and that's what he allowed himself to be. But for now there was no time to string together jokes and puns. It was neither the time nor place to plot or pull a prank.
Now was a time for the orange-banded turtle to show that he could be more than a fool; he could be a good brother too.
From his position beside the couch, he watched over Raphael's sleeping form, keeping vigil. Because, more than anything, he wanted to be there when Raph woke up. Mike wanted to show his brother that he didn't have to be alone. That was the whole point of brotherhood. To know that someone would always have your back (or shell).
He'd held his post, stationary, for an hour. An hour of private time with Raph. An hour of relative and semi-restless silence, save for the occasional bout of humming that tapered off and gave way to the sounds of breathing.
An entire hour. Sixty minutes. 3,600 seconds of the young turtle holding his unforgiving bladder, but it was worth it.
He wouldn't waste a single moment when his brother could awaken at any given time.
And so, Mikey held his bladder, ignored his mighty need for urinary release, and stared hard, unblinking for as long as possible. Eyes wide open, beyond burning from excessive dryness. As if merely closing his eyes would make the emerald-skinned turtle disappear...
Abracadabra.
Poof.
Houdini.
Now you see him. Now you don't.
Like a cruel magic act. A work of fiction. A mirage. Like a poor punchline to an even worse joke.
Knock, Knock.
Who's there?
Not Raph.
The very idea caused discomfort in the pit of the youngest turtle's stomach. That discomfort reached up into his chest and gripped his heart. He felt the worst kind of ill but he dutifully ignored the internal aches. Because there were more important things for him to focus on.
Even now, the orange-banded ninja was mentally replaying the events of the night, trying to ingrain them deeply into his skull. He wanted every moment and every memory of Raphael to be perfectly clear, borderline photographic. His eyes traced over the rough and leathery flesh, the bulbous contours and musculature, and most importantly... the serene expression on his face as he slept.
Raphael had never been an early riser, but he'd never been such a sound sleeper either. In fact, it was odd that he could remain so still, undisturbed despite the presence of another. It was unnatural, but a small selfish voice in the back of Mikey's mind reasoned that... if Raphael was sleeping, at least he wasn't getting up and leaving.
There was some comfort in that fact, however slight.
'Bro, I know it doesn't mean much... but... don't go. Okay?' Michelangelo forced a small smile that looked a little too sad and out of place, accented by tear-stained eyes: something that would forever go unseen. 'Don't leave me again. I already promised not to prank you. I said sorry. I'll try really hard not to get on your nerves. You-You don't even have to go back to the Lair if you don't want to. You can stay with April or Casey; I'm sure they won't mind. We can visit you every day... unless you need your space. Or you can visit us! Yeah, and I bet you miss your Shell Cycle. She's all alone with no one to ride her. And... Oh, maybe... like, since you're still patrolling the city and stuff- Maybe we can do that together. Please? I know you're sleeping. You're such a tired turtle. Sleepy, sleepy. But maybe I'll ask when you wake up. Maybe you'll say yes. Please? If not... I just...'
"Raphie, take me with you."
...
[Mikey is done. Next chapter is on the way.]