Author's Note: WHOA. OKAY. I got some more explain' to do, don't I? Okay, well, first I want to thank everyone who reviewed/favorited/read/alerted this story! All of you guys mean the world to me! Secondly, I wanted to apologize for not updating for such a long time. On top of being back into the gist of my second semester of college, my work load as well as my hours at work (running around with preschoolers and taking care of infants) increased quite a bit. On top of that, I was busy making my Valentine's Day gift for the TMNTXCHANGE on Tumblr-! BUT- I'm not abandoning this story! It may take me a little while to update, but it will come! FUN FACT ABOUT THIS CHAPTER- I did NOT originally plan to take this route for the story. I planned out what I want the ending to be, and the middle/climax to look like, but the beginning I've been playing by ear. I kinda like the way this is going, and, (I know I said this before), BUT the summary of this story will begin to make sense too! (P.S: I'm so so so sorry if this chapter is kinda crappy, been going through an emotional week and kinda took it out on Mikey...heh...I hope it's not too OOC- I TRIED!)
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT or the song lyrics of "Maybe" by Sick Puppies
...
A Turtle and His Sisyphus
…..….
"I've never been one to walk alone, I've always been scared to try."
...
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Leonardo anxiously waited on Splinter's bedside. Hoping that maybe for a moment, his ill father could awaken with words of wisdom for him. Maybe he'd know how to handle this situation. Hell, if Master Splinter were here, he'd be able to fix everything before it escalated to what it was now. Looking over to his brother, Donatello still hovered over that small device that he had discovered earlier. He could see his second youngest brother's eyes grow heavier and heavier with every blink.
Donnie, won't you ever cut yourself some slack? Getting on his feet, Leonardo walked over to Don. Leaning on his brother's shoulders with both his hands, he gave him a gentle shake. "Don, it's getting late. We've had a long day. You can look at that in the morning, right?"
Turning his head slightly enough so that Leo could see a smile, he remarked, "I've still got my coffee, a ton of tests to run, and fixing up the living room."
"Don, don't start." Leonardo insisted, making his way back to Splinter. "I'll sleep with Sensei tonight. You need to sleep, even if it's a couple of hours." Before Don could protest, Leonardo faced his brother once more, "Please. For me."
Sighing, Donatello hesitantly rose from his seat. At a completely loss for words, he rubbed the back of his head as he nodded slowly. "Okay, Leo. B-But if anything changes, you tell me okay?"
"Of course, Donnie. I got this."
Waiting until his little brother was no longer in the room, he mumbled a prayer, gripped his father's hand, and watched him sleep peacefully.
/./././././././././././././
He found himself back where he started the day. Legs spread out across his ruffled sheets; one arm resting behind his head while the other lay limp across his chest. Staring blankly at his ceiling, he traced his fingers over his stitched up arm. Worse has happened to his arm, let alone his legs when the Shredder broke them both.
A small smile formed at the corner of his lips; just how did things turn so badly in just one day? He woke up, excited to start morning training with everyone. Now, he's (attempting to) falling asleep at nearly 9:30PM, beaten and bruised in more ways than one.
Fuck. Michelangelo hissed as tears began to prickle the corner of his eyes. He hated this. He hated wallowing in his own sensations. He wondered what would be of his brothers without him. Maybe Leo would actually be able to complete that katana he's always working on. Maybe Raph's temper would be more in control. Maybe Donnie wouldn't have to fix almost everything in the house.
Maybe everyone would just be…better off without him.
Reaching under his bed, he reached for his journal. Gently whipping the dust off of his precious dairy, he began flipping through the pages. Sketches he had done over the years poured all old memories back in him. It started with simple stick figures, and then advanced to full profiles. His brothers knew he drew but never would he, nor would he dare, show his drawings to anyone. His last sketches were a few months ago, attempting to get full profiles of each of his brothers. It wasn't too hard, considering when each of them is stuck on a task, he is in it both mind and body.
Leo was both the easiest, and most difficult to capture. Mikey would sneak into the dojo after training and sketch him meditating. Leo would be completely still, giving Mikey the full advantage of catching his brother in his best state. The oldest would question his brother, and at times, insisting on seeing what he was doodling. But Mikey knew how to change subjects quickly, or draw his attention elsewhere. Raph, on the other hand, was never still nor silent enough for Mikey to draw. Always on the move, verbal with every attack he gave. Donnie, similar to his oldest brothers, he was silent but always moving. As an artist, Mikey knew exactly how he wanted to capture each of his brothers.
Looking at it now, he was pretty proud of each of his sketches. Even though his sketches were mere pencil drawings, you were still able to tell the difference between each of his brothers by one defining quality- their eyes. Leonardo's, though closed during his mediation, were drawn with ease. Gently guiding the pencil over his strong stare. Raphael's were dark, yet drawn with careful guidance. Capturing his second oldest with his passionate yet firm eyes as he fought. Donatello, a mixture of both Leonardo and Raphael's features, yet had the most gentle touch fixated on his eyes. Attempting to sketch his brother's gentle compassion, but never-ending mind at work.
Turning the page, he noticed that he once attempting to do himself.
It was blank.
Ripping the piece of paper into complete shreds, Michelangelo clenched his sketch notebook tightly. All three of his brothers- so strong, so brave, so much better without him-.
Worthless…
Pitiful…
Unwanted…
With every inch of his being, he heaved his precious journal across his room. The small little book met his mirror, causing both his reflection and his pages to scatter everywhere. Plummeting to the ground with a loud crashing uproar.
"Mikey?"
"Michelangelo?!"
"Mike!"
Fuck, fuck, fuck! He couldn't let his brothers see him like this. His mind ran the fastest he thought he could think-
But what could he do? What should he do?
Run away? Yes, that could work. Running would definitely clear his head, and being away from everything for a little while could work. But, his brothers would just be irritated at the fact that he ran. He couldn't do that to them, and Master Splinter. They all are way too stressed out to deal with that.
"Mikey! What's going on?!"
"Yo, yer alright up there?"
"Michelangelo! What happened?!"
Could he tell them? Yes, that too could work. Master Splinter did tell him to express his feelings to his brothers. Instead of keeping it bottled inside, he could simply talk about what he's been feeling lately. Who knows? Maybe they too will open up to him.
Wate…
Nothing…
Weak…
No. He couldn't. He just couldn't.
"What the hell?!"
"The fuck happened in here?!"
"Michelangelo, what's going on?!"
His heart raced, he couldn't feel his fingers as he dug them deep into his sheets. His vision blurred as the voices around him grew, his brain screaming in agony as the voices raised louder and louder.
"Michelangelo! What's wrong?!"
"The fuck is wrong with ya!"
"Mikey, talk to me, what's going on?!"
His mouth opened, but no words came out. What the shell? I-I can hear them, but, wait, them? What are my brothers doing here? What am I even doing? I gotta run-talk-run-talk-!
"Donnie, what the fuck is wrong with him?!"
"I think he's having a panic attack- his pulse is racing-!"
"Michelangelo, look at me. Breathe. Just breathe, okay?"
What? Focusing his eyes just hurt his head even more. He could see the silhouettes of each of his brothers. He felt firm hands racing down his arms and neck, thick hands held his shoulders firm, and a calm voice spoke to him.
"Make him snap outa it, Don!"
"I can't make him 'snap' out of it! He's hyperventilating, I can't-!"
"Michelangelo, it's just us! You're okay, nothing is wrong-!"
"Yes, Michelangelo, nothing is wrong…"
W-WHAT? The blurred vision of his brothers morphed into a single body. The brightness surrounding the body grew brighter. Terrified of the apparitions his mind was playing him, Mikey quaked, "M-Master Splinter?"
"W-What's wrong with him?!"
"M-Mikey! Look at me! Stay with me!"
"Mike! It's me Le-!"
"You are safe here. You are accepted here. Everything is alright."
I know that voice…Where are those voices coming from-? Where are my brothers? Where am I-?
Shutting his eyes tight, Michelangelo desperately tried to block the voices and images surrounding him. Pleading for the voices to stop, he could feel the warm tears stream down his face. His vision grew blurrier, only able to outline the color of each of his brother's bandanas.
"Mike, come on, talk to us-!"
"Mikey! Say something!"
"Don-a-tel-o-! Help him!"
"You are nothing but a liability."
He couldn't handle it anymore. Shutting his eyes tight, clasping his hands against his head, he wailed at the top of his lungs. "STOP!"
Silence. Then suddenly, there were sirens. The cold brisk air wrapped around him, the chill of the evening air making him feel quite at home. His shell-cell ringing nonstop, wide open besides him, the small screen reading, 'Raphael'. Darkness surrounded him. Rubbing his eyes, Michelangelo gasped, loss for words as he took in his surroundings.
He was, on the rooftop? How the hell did I get here? Slowly raising himself up to an upright position, he did a quick check over himself. Besides his already bandaged shoulder, he seemed okay.
Grabbing his shell-cell, he started at the small screen…
12:30 AM
FIVE MISSED CALLS FROM DONATELLO.
SEVEN MISSED CALLS FROM LEONARDO.
EIGHT MISSED CALLS FROM RAPHAEL.
6 VOICEMAILS.
3 TEXT MESSAGES.
What the…fuck? I-I was out for three hours…?
"Yeah, Leo, I found him! Get over here!...MIKEY-!" Raphael's voice belted, it sounded near him. Feeling the ends of his bandana tail being pulled, Mikey fell back onto his shell and looked up at the face of his hot-headed older brother. Raphael, now on one knee, glared daggers at his brother. "What did ya think you were doing-?!"
Raphael was visibly angry, more so than usual. His brother was still catching his breath as Michelangelo noticed his eyes, though stern, seemed filled with…worry? Shaken, Michelangelo stuttered, putting the pieces together in his mind. "W-What am I doing here-? I was in my room! I-!"
"Ran off like crazy-!" Helping his brother back on his feet, Raphael gave his little brother a skeptical look. Mikey was visibly shaken, his eyes wide like a child lost in a store. A part of Raph guilty. But, fuck! What the fuck?! "We were trying to calm you down and you bolted outta the lair-! What the fuck freaked you out so much?"
"What?" Mikey blinked. "I was just trying to sleep and…How did I get here-?"
"Don't play dumb!" Raphael couldn't help himself as he gave his brother a light shove. "Ya scared us half to death-! Ya looked like ya saw and ghost or somethin'! Why did ya go off like that, huh?"
"I-I really don't know, Raph." Mikey confessed, looking down on the paved ground. "I-I don't remember how I got here, honest! I-I remember breaking something and then…nothing!"
The footsteps of Leonardo could be heard jogging over toward his brothers. Mikey could see the fire in Leo's eyes—usually meaning that he was worried and/or about to explode. Standing besides Raphael, Leonardo couldn't help but feel flustered as he watched Mikey squirm at the touch of his brother. Looking around at his brothers, Michelangelo trembled as he spoke, "I'm fine, okay? I blacked out or something…T-The last thing I remembered was being in my room, I thought I heard you guys talking to me a-and then nothing!" Facing Leo, he was visibly shaken at his own tale. "D-Donnie? You believe me dontca? W-What's wrong with me?"
"You can't tell me you remember nothing-?" Leonardo echoed, his tone mixed with worry and frustration. "You ran off and went MIA for hours, Mikey, hours! Raph and I ran around the whole city chasing behind you!" Leonardo bit his lip. Mikey was now standing between him and Raph, his eyes filled with fear as he looked over at his brothers. The same eyes that used to look up at him when Raph would tell him that there were monsters in the closet. He felt his gut sting with guilt, why couldn't he just believe his baby brother? What made him suddenly question every movement he made? Gently placing his hand on his little brother's good shoulder, he gave him a light squeeze as he said, "I'm just happy you're okay. Are you hurt?"
Mikey shook at the sudden touch of his shoulder. Leo was giving a small smile, the same one that was both loving and filled with worry. The same Leo that would protect him, love him, and just…understand him. The pounding in his head thumped more and more as his mind dwelled deeper into the events of that night. His sudden explosion of emotions, his outburst, that fourth voice, his blackout—was he really going crazy? Tears prickled down his freckled face as he choked on his own sob. Lunging himself at his oldest brother, he fought the tears no longer. Gripping his arms around Leo's plastron, just enough for his small arms to wrap around him, he sobbed.
Raphael grimaced at the sound of his baby brother's sobs. He hated when Mikey, or any of his brothers would cry. Growing up, Mikey was usually the crier. But not like this—not when his brother's crying wasn't just simply whining. It was a hurtful cry- and whether he'll admit it or not—that stung his heart.
Leonardo slowly, making sure he didn't touch Mikey's bandaged shoulder, wrapped his arms around his brother. Rubbing his shell, Leo muttered, "Sh, it's okay. You're okay now, I'm here." He didn't know what the shell was going on with his brother, or his father, or the rest of his family, or Master Splinter…
But he'll be damned if he didn't figure it out.
/./././././././././././././././
Donatello paced his lab, making his now thirtieth round. He rubbed his sweaty hands against his knees. Waiting was one of the worst parts of his job. Waiting to hear from his brothers about Mikey, waiting for Master Splinter to open his eyes…
If he opens his eyes. No. Shaking his head, he gave himself a mental slap across the head. He can't think that way. Of course Master Splinter will awaken soon. Finally decided to let his pace be put to rest, he slumped himself in his desk chair as he wheeled himself back to his desk. He might as well be doing something useful while this brothers are gone. His shell-cell rested beside his paperwork, blinking multiple times. Flipping his phone open, he read a text message he got from Raph.
"Found Mikey. Seems okay, 'sides the shoulder. But he won't stop crying or shakin'. We'll get home ASAP. Be safe, bro."
Donatello let out a low, but worrisome, sigh. He was grateful that Mikey was okay- he always managed to find himself deep in trouble. Making Donnie, and the rest of his family worry about the youngest. Now more than ever.
"That's good. Is he okay? I will, don't worry. You guys be safe too."
"My son?" Donatello was startled by the new voice, making him nearly fall out of his seat. Shooting his head up, his eyes opened wide. Slowly making himself sit up, Splinter's eyes were half open. Rushing himself over to his father, he began checking over him. "S-Sensei! How are you feeling? We were so worried-!"
His voice was weak, dry, and scratchy. Gripping his second youngest's hand tightly, his voice trembled, "Where is Michelangelo?"
"He's…" Donatello hestitated for a moment. He couldn't lie to his father, yet, if he knew that something could have been wrong with Mikey, it would just stress him further. Clearing his throat, he stumbled as he spoke. "He's with Leo and Raph topside. Everything is under control, don't worry, father."
"I-I sense a great danger, my son. Please," Master Splinter pleaded, his voice sounding more uneasy than earlier. "Please, Donatello. Y-You are all in danger."
"We are okay, Sensei." Donnie insisted, placing another cold cloth on his father's head. "You just rest up so you can get back to training us, okay? Don't get me wrong, Leo's great and all! But, he's no you, father."
Donatello wasn't sure if his father was just delusional from his sudden collapase..
But he knew one thing was for certain- that his father's senses are usually spot on.
And that terrified him.
/././././././././././././././
"Sir, we cannot proceed as planned."
Sipping his evening whiskey, Bishop waiting until the last drop was gone before shattering the glass on his desk. Time was of the essence, and everything was not going according to plan. Clenching his teeth together, he hissed, "What is it now, Jacob?"
"The blood sample did not match the physique of the terrapin. We have to change most of the exterior and some extra features that we aren't even sure of. We are working as fast as we can, Agent Bishop, sir."
"Everything is set up. I planned accordingly, Jacob. And you choose to wait until this very moment to tell me that we have to be delayed-?"
"The sooner we have the turtle you seek, the sooner we can get the project out."
Grinning, he rose to his feet. Slipping on his long black trench coat, he began making his way out of his office. "Then let the game begin…"
/././././././././././././././././
