Mikey And The Telepathic Friendship

It was the dream that started it. It was the vision that finished it. It was the meeting that ended it.

Two – or three – psionic mutants randomly meeting in Manhattan in a non-random way was such the opposite of coincidence that he didn't bother telling his family where he was going. He told Ice Cream Kitty, though. Everyone told Ice Cream Kitty everything. She purred and mewed and licked them until they licked her back. Raphael had even taken to saying "Lick the right side of my face if you understood everything I just said." The first time she did it, he had fallen off his chair. She had danced in her bowl of ice and mrrred in delight, patiently waiting for him to keep talking.

Mikey opened the freezer door, scooped her up, and set her in her usual green ceramic bowl with ice. Kitty could tell he was impatient and worried. "Here's the thing…" he began nervously, rubbing his hands together. "Okay, sooo…okay, so I've been having these premonitions and now these remote viewings, and she really needs help, and they can't hold their own for long, because I think the girl is disabled and I think the cat can't keep up for both of them…"

Ice Cream Kitty tilted her head, a light bulb going off in her head. Her daddy was going to see another cat? Would he bring the cat home? Would Ice Cream Kitty have a friend? What about the girl?

"So, I know is that they're both mutants now. The cat got splashed with mutagen, and like, the girl grabbed the cat and got mutagen on her, and now she's got like cat eyes and her ears are pointy and she has a tail and her nails are claws? Mostly we just talk about the mutation. But the thing is… she's hurt. I mean… not hurt. I think she's, like, handicapped? And her new part-cat body isn't sure what to do, and now the Foot and the Kraang are hunting her down, and I have to find her. Kitty, you understand, right?"

Ice Cream Kitty meowed loudly and nodded. Anything to help!

"…and maybe Donnie can help her, and I want to make friends and bring her and the cat here, but I don't know what Splinter and Leo would say, even though I've told them. But I've been having these dreams for a week and I can't do nothing…"

In sympathy, Ice Cream Kitty grabbed her master's face in her paws and licked him thoroughly, rubbing her head against his mouth. When she looked up, his eyes were deep with love and gratitude. He licked around his mouth and gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks, Kitty!" I'll keep ya updated!"

When she was back in the freezer, Ice Cream Kitty settled into her chocolate bottom part and thought very good thoughts about this other cat that her owner wanted to find.

Mikey paused on a rooftop overlooking Broadway. Chinatown was never really quiet, not even at night, but it was also never really curious. Humans loved cosplay in this area and occasionally Don had joked that the four of them could slip out into a parade unnoticed, before being glared at by Leo.

The scent combination of strawberries, plums, ginger, vanilla orchid, amber, patchouli, coffee, and chocolate filled his nose. He shivered as each note separated and swirled in his delicate chef's palette. It wasn't food. It was…perfume? Wait…body spray! Whoever was wearing it wore it as though their body chemistry was meant to own it.

He smiled.

Carefully, he sent out a thread of power, with it a very gentle, very soft and cushioned I am safe, you are safe. And an equally strong thread touched his, like a tentative handshake. The voice that curved through it was a whisper, a worried alto. Who are you? Are you...Mikey?

Yup! My name is Michelangelo. You can call me Mikey. I promise, I'm cool.

A long, long pause. He felt a cat brush up against him, nose twitching. It tickled. He remained perfectly still in his mind, physically twitching just a little.

I'm…I'm Gaia. And you…are you a mutant? Like me?

Mikey grinned, settled lotus-style on the roof, and prepared to share his life story, prodding her to share hers. And then with her consent, he opened the thread to his brothers and father, because he knew they could help.

Two and a half hours later, movement alerted him. He jumped back, moved into shadows. Someone was climbing a fire escape, very very slowly. But the first thing he noticed was a small, slender calico cat, a familiar calico cat, who sat casually on the edge of the roof and stared directly at him with grass green eyes. He didn't move. The cat opened its mouth slightly A voice rang out, "I can see you, you know."

He blinked. Wait a second.

"That's right. When we mutated together, I gained the ability to talk. And telepathy. I'm special. I may not be made of ice cream, but I can sure beat you at card games."

Michelangelo's jaw dropped. The cat closed her mouth and looked smug.

Another voice, feminine and alto and slightly breathless, called up, "Don't mind Akeso. She's getting used to socializing verbally." The sentence was followed by a yelp of pain, a curse, and a mutter.

Mikey ran to the edge and looked down. "Do you need help?"

The figure raised her head, and he blinked. He found his brain taking apart each of her features. He wanted to paint her portrait, because from his perception her features blended together uniquely. He saw Japanese in her cheekbones, Russian in her jawline, Swedish in her eye shape, Greek in her mouth and nose. Except that her eyes were amber cat eyes, and her nose looked somewhat feline, and her waist-length black hair had white and red streaks.

"Wow," she muttered, "that's the first time someone's pegged my whole ancestry without calling me exotic and I still didn't want to punch them."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he said, "…I'm an artist. And a mutant turtle. Looks are… a thing."

"No, I get it." She was reaching up toward the roof with her left hand, which was spasming. Mikey automatically reached down and closed his hand around it. Her skin was covered in a very fine layer of fur, and he could feel claws sheathed under her fingernails.

This is so WEIRD, they thought at the same time.

"Why do you only have three fingers?" she asked. "Turtles have five. I mean, sliders. Which you mutated from. Then again, you're also kind of hominid, so who knows?"

He could only shrug as he carefully pulled her up, wrapping his other arm around her curved spine to steady her against the edge of the roof. Her shaking seemed to slow as she looked into his eyes. Her left arm was bent close to her ribs. He wanted to grab it and massage it gently. It worried him so much!

A smile quirked her full lips. "D'you know what mild cerebral palsy is?"

When he shook his head, his mind filled with images and words. "Oh," he said softly.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I used to dream about martial arts. Or at least tai chi."

"I bet my dad could help," Mikey said.

"The giant rat who used to be human?"

"That's him."

They paused, long enough for the little calico to rub against her shoulder. A telepathic "ahem" filled the air.

"Oh, right," she said, and stuck out her hand. "Gaia Anastasia Mako. College dropout, sophomore year, now taking online courses in neuropsychology, living with my sister Rhea and her wife who are amazingly okay with my mutation. They own a veterinary clinic and a beauty salon respectively. I'm on disability because I have too many seizures."

"Michelangelo Hamato, home-schooled, living with three brothers and our adoptive father, ninjas our entire lives, living in an abandoned subway station in the sewers under Chinatown. Ever since I became psionic I've had seizures and migraines."

"Did I mention epilepsy and autism?"

"Did I mention severe ADHD and apparent depression?"

Pause. "Do you need a hug?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Yes."

The embrace they wrapped each other in was the warmth of a fireplace in winter, the relief of a cool breeze in summer. Gaia was barely five feet, and was able to bury her face in Mikey's plastron. He could feel her tail, stuffed into her jeans, twitching to be free. Her legs, human, were trembling, especially the left leg. He held her tightly and nuzzled her head the way Splinter did to him, and she relaxed as much as her permanently tense muscles allowed.

"Your name is so awesome," Mikey said.

"My parents are really into Greek mythology. And most of my family is Japanese and Russian anyway. Your whole life is awesome."

"Your face is awesome," Mikey grinned.

"Your face is awesome plus your eyes," Gaia grinned back.

"No, you." Mikey felt his grin stretch.

"You more!" Her giggle was low-pitched and felt cool and soft, like pure cotton.

So, he thought at her, autism is that whole total brain thing where you feel the world differently and communicate with the world differently and people think you're, like, existing wrong?

Yeah, she replied, somberly. Sometimes I'm terrified to come out to people. There's whole organizations who wish I didn't exist.

I find that creepily easy to relate to.

I'm so sorry.

Me too.

They stood there without measuring time. What did time mean anyway?

A throat cleared. It wasn't the cat.

Mikey bit his lip and reluctantly pulled away from his new friend. He looked at her, and her eyes were wide, round and glittering. "It's okay," he sighed. "Gaia, meet my family."

He turned around, and smiled as his brothers and father stood in a perfect line, shoulder to shoulder. Splinter came forward, arms outstretched, palms up. "My child," he said softly. "Michelangelo told us what he knows about you from your telepathic communication. It seems you have gone through much. May we offer you a sanctuary for when you need it?"

Gaia was shaking again. Very reluctantly, she put her hands in his. "How can I trust you? My sister says-"

"Humans lie," Raphael snapped, and she winced.

"Raph!" Don hissed. "Be nice. It's not every day that happens."

Splinter smiled. "Your family may accept you. But there will come a time when you will need the familiarity of other mutants. Our Michelangelo is very skilled at making people feel welcome."

They stood there for a long time. Akeso cautiously sniffed Splinter's robes until he smiled down at her. Michelangelo reached down and she let him pick her up and she nestled in his firm arms, purring.

"I…I take it I'm not the first human mutant you've taken in?" Gaia asked.

Splinter squeezed her hands. "We have assisted many who have needed aid."

"Plus," Mikey cut in, "you can meet April and Casey! April looks totally human but she's actually half mutant and half Kraang and she's psychic too!"

"See?" Akeso said, head held high, whiskers twitching, "I told you it would be a dramatic adventure if you went to meet this guy."

Splinter's whiskers twitched back. He tilted his head at Gaia, who was looking at the ground. Carefully, slowly, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, which was a cat's ear. "You crave touch and sensory contact, don't you, Miss Mako?"

She nodded. "It's called sensory processing disorder," she said. "Some autistics hate being touched, some love it. I didn't even know who I was until a few years ago. My family was too busy teaching me to run properly."

Leonardo stepped forward. "If you want, we can help show you how to work with your limitations. Mikey's had such detailed dreams about you that we might as well know you already."

Gaia gave him a crooked smile. "Same here, Leonardo." She sighed. "Damn telepathy. You have one traumatic brain injury in your teens and it marks you for life."

"Two, technically," Donatello said lightly, "if you count the brain damage from birth that caused the cerebral palsy."

"It's cool!" Michelangelo winked at her. "I've got some damage too. Plus my leg injuries. We can be, like, injury twinsies!"

Gaia's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "You goofball."

Splinter smiled and reached out to her. "That is my son, indeed." When Gaia rested her head against his chest, arms tight around his waist, Splinter breathed in her unique perfume and considered his fascinating luck. He wondered how many humanoid mutants were in Chinatown alone, hiding and scared, with no intuition or friendships, and he squeezed his son's new friend just a little tighter. When she squeezed back and nuzzled into his robes, his sense of protectiveness flared hard enough to startle him. If his little family could make even one person feel all right, that was good. That was why he was here.