*Michelangelo*
Soft sniffles escape me as I rub my cheek on my kneepads tiredly. Most of my tears have dried up after a few minutes of heavy crying, leaving me with a stuffy nose that is running worse than a runaway pizza guy. My eyes also feel goopy from all the crying and my cheeks burn from the salt and I can no longer hold my head up very well. The crying also didn't help the pulling feeling of my bandages.
My snout wrinkles as I sniffle again, and I reach back and roughly rub at the hidden bandage. Shell. I can't wait to take this stupid thing off. Maybe I'm allergic to the adhesive or something but it's making it so hard to think and focus.
A whimper escapes me when a sharp pain shoots through my skull right behind my eyes. My eyes start to burn again with unshed tears as I clutch my aching noggin, burying my face further into my knees.
Man, this blows.
How am I supposed to approach Sensei if I'm looking worse than Shred-head after we kick his shell? And why does my head still feel like it wants to split in two? I can't think, can't concentrate, can't come up with how I'm gonna approach Sensei when I—
"Michelangelo?"
Twitching, I fight to lift my head as a few more tears slip down my cheeks. Four blurry images shift and morph in front of me and it takes a moment for my vision to clear. My eyes widen as Master Splinter and my big brothers come into focus before me, all four peering down at me with various degrees of concern. My master's ears are back, and an upset look crosses his face as he steps closer. My vision blurring this time has nothing to do with lifting my head but because more tears well in my eyes as he kneels next to me, resting his walking stick gently on the ground and places his cool hands on my cheek.
"Oh, Michelangelo," Master Splinter breathes out as he wipes at some of my tears. "Talk to me, young one. What is going on? How much pain are you in?"
Hiccuping, I swallow thickly as I soak in the safety and security radiating from the older mutant, the very mutant that has done nothing but provide for me and keep me and my brothers safe. Suddenly a heavy wave of emotions hit me once more and another sob rips from me.
"I don't…I can't…I want to…" I stammer, scrubbing at my face with the backs of my hands. "Hurts." Hic. "Hurts so much."
Warm arms tug me closer, and I bury my face in the nook of Master Splinter's shoulder. He hums quietly as he rubs my shell and I just allow myself to let go for a moment, my dam breaking as I cry. To just let out all the emotions that I've been warring with but no longer have the energy to fight or hold back.
*Splinter/Bros*
Splinter's heart breaks as his youngest's tears soak his robes, feeling how the young turtle trembles and hiccups against him. The distress and confusion radiating from the young mutant has Splinter wondering if he should have pushed the reporter harder on knowing what exactly his youngest went to her for. Because the last time he saw Michelangelo in such a state was when he found a cat down in the sewers and couldn't understand why the poor thing wouldn't wake up.
Ever the sweet and tender-hearted child.
Splinter rests his cheek on top of Michelangelo's overly warm head as he rocks them both, feeling the distress from his eldest three standing behind them. The three of them wanting to approach but unsure if they will just make the situation worse. As angry as they were earlier, those feelings can't help but die down after finding their baby brother crying out here in the sewers, face pale yet flushed.
"Talk to us, Michelangelo," Splinter mutters against the burning seafoam green head. "Tell us what hurts, and we shall fix it."
Michelangelo doesn't verbally respond, still sobbing into the once-human's shoulder. However, he does weakly lift his left hand and alternate between pointing to his head, then his chest.
Concerned, Splinter reaches up and gently starts running his hand over Michelangelo's burning head. Their redheaded friend had mentioned him slicing his head open and only able to put a bandage with some gauze over it. When his fingers skirt around the knot of Michelangelo's mask, the orange-cladded turtle flinches away and buries his face further into the wise rat mutant's shoulder, whimpering. Splinter instantly redirects his touching down the younger mutant's neck, murmuring an apology and nuzzling Michelangelo's temple. The ninjutsu master pauses when he brushes something warm and wet with the tips of his fingers. A sensation that the older mutant is unfortunately familiar with but something he never wants to feel on any of his children. He can only hope that he is wrong.
Tensing, Splinter leans closer and sniffs his youngest, doing his best to block out the stench of the sewer around them.
The heavy scent of copper hits his nose and Splinter forces himself not to panic as his heart leaps into his throat. Keeping one hand on Michelangelo, Splinter pulls his exploring hand back and his stomach drops to the cold stone beneath him. Bright red liquid covers his claws and fingertips.
Breathe. Remain calm. Panicking will help no one. Michelangelo needs you.
Splinter releases a slow, breath through his nose as if hoping to push the scent of copper away from him. But now that he has caught wind of his youngest's blood, there is nothing he can do but fight to not let the scent overwhelm him.
"Donatello," Splinter calls out, doing his best to keep his tone calm. "I need you to come here please."
The three older turtles exchange a look as Donatello cautiously approaches his master and youngest brother. The genius's heart crumbles as another soft sob escapes his usually happy-go-lucky brother before he turns upset brown eyes toward the once-human holding his baby brother close. Gently, he reaches out and rests his hand on Michelangelo's shoulder, his anxiety spiking higher at just how warm his brother is.
Oh, Michelangelo, Donatello thinks sadly, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into his brother's skin. What have you gotten yourself into, Little Brother? Why let yourself get this bad instead of coming to one of us? Instead of coming to me?
"Donatello?"
"Yes, Sensei?"
Without saying a word, Splinter shifts his hand toward his purple-cladded child, making sure that only the genius can see it. Warm brown eyes follow the movement before widening as he takes in all of the blood covering his sensei's fingers. Keeping his hand on his brother, Donatello shifts so that he can see the back of his little brother's head.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
A steady stream of crimson liquid is rolling down the back of Michelangelo's head and down into his shell. The knot of his mask is already stained red, and the stain appears to only be getting bigger. Donatello's stomach squeezes unpleasantly and he gulps as he leans forward, massaging his little brother's shoulder to try and gain his attention.
"Michelangelo?" He calls out softly, waiting until the seafoam head tilts in his direction. "I-I need to remove your mask, is that okay?"
Nobody moves, holding their breath as everyone's eyes lock onto the youngest. Michelangelo squirms around in Splinter's arms until a small portion of his face is no longer hidden away. Unfocused bloodshot blue eyes peer out at his second eldest brother, but Donatello can't tell if Michelangelo is even processing anything in front of him right now.
Donatello holds his breath, not wanting to rush the younger turtle. After a beat, Michelangelo finally nods before burying his face back into Splinter's shoulder.
Swallowing thickly, Donatello shoots his other two brothers a look before sharing a glance with their sensei. Splinter nods minutely then turns his attention back to the younger mutant, whispering to him gently in Japanese.
Donatello's fingers tremble slightly as he undoes the bloodstained knot. His stomach rolls at the dampness and warmth radiating from the fabric. After a tense moment, he manages to slip the knot free and, as gently as possible, tugs the fabric from his brother's face. Pursing his lips, the genius turtle holds out the dirtied fabric for Leonardo to take, mentally noting to clean it later. Donatello reaches out, grasping the back of his little brother's head and tilting it gently toward him, hushing Michelangelo when the smaller turtle whines.
"I'm sorry, Little Brother, but I need to check the back of your head."
Donatello purses his lips.
The two bandages that April had placed last night are now discolored with blood and leaking out through the bottom. Reaching out, Donatello cautiously pulls the soaked bandages from his little brother's head. The adhesive gives easily, almost too easily for the genius's liking. The once white gauze is now heavily crimson, and Donatello can see where it used to be stuck to Michelangelo's cut.
The genius turtle's eyes narrow as he studies the irritated cut and raw area around it.
His little brother must have been rubbing at the cut, not letting the scab completely take. Donatello's snout wrinkles at the stench of copper radiating from his brother, a scent that shouldn't be there. Michelangelo should smell like his favorite pizza and summertime, not blood!
Donatello purses his lips.
Now that he's noticed it, it's hard to ignore. Shell! With all the blood, the smell is just so strong that it's nearly nauseating. How did he and his family not notice the scent of copper before on the youngest? It's not like their lair is all that big! They should have noticed!
I should have noticed.
"Donatello?"
Jumping, the purple-cladded turtle glances over at the older mutant. Concern gleams in Splinter's wise brown eyes and his eyes flicker down to Donatello's fingers. Donatello follows the movement only to frown when he spots the red smearing his six fingertips.
Shell.
Mouthwatering, Donatello feels as though he is going to be sick. Breathing out slowly, Donatello closes his eyes to center himself before reaching into his belt and pulling out some of his emergency gauze that he always has on him.
"I'm all right, Sensei. Let's get him bandaged up."
Michelangelo whines as Donatello presses the fresh gauze against his bleeding head. Splinter hushes him gently as his youngest tries to shift away, tightening his hold on the youngest.
"No, Michelangelo. Donatello needs to keep that against your head otherwise the bleeding will not stop." When the orange-cladded turtle calms, Splinter lifts his gaze to his second oldest. "Donatello?"
The brainy turtle sighs shakily as he leans back, rubbing his little brother's shell.
"He's obviously been rubbing at the cut. The excess blood was probably making his skin itch." Donatello uses a finger to point at some irritated skin as Leonardo and Raphael And I can see where the adhesive has been irritating his skin as well, leaving bright red marks behind. Stitches are going to be the best bet for him right now." Donatello frowns as he runs a hand over his little brother's dome. "But what's making me nervous is how warm he is. He's far hotter than he should be and he's not sweating."
Splinter nods, his lips pursing as he glances down at his youngest. Michelangelo whimpers and burrows further into his chest, fingers holding fast to the worn maroon fabric. Splinter can't help but be even more concerned. Donatello is right. The entire time that his youngest has been clinging to his robe, the only wetness he has felt from the little turtle is from his tears and the blood on the back of his head.
And the ninjutsu master knows that his wards can sweat.
Reaching down, Splinter pulls at the tie of his robe. Michelangelo whines and clings tighter as the ninja master moves but he hushes him and nuzzles at the burning temple.
"Shh, I am not leaving you, young one. I am merely grabbing something to help your brother keep the gauze on your head."
Splinter's heart splinters even more when Michelangelo hiccups and scrubs at his flushed face. The image of a five-year-old Michelangelo doing something every similar after a bad dream or when he wasn't feeling well comes to mind as he hands off his tie to Donatello. The purple-cladded turtle takes the fabric and as gently as possible, winds it around his little brother's head. Once fastened, Splinter glances over his shoulder at his remaining two children.
"Leonardo. Raphael. I will need one of you to carry your brother back to the lair so that Donatello can prep any items he needs to close the wound on your brother's head." The rat mutant's gaze softens as he stares down at the seafoam green head resting against his chest, stroking the warm flesh tenderly. "I would do so, but I think I need to have a quick chat with Ms. O'Neil about what happened last night since it appears that I am somehow involved. Whatever is going on is causing your brother great distress." Splinter closes his eyes for a moment, hating the fact that he somehow is responsible for the situation that his youngest is currently in. "Donatello, would you prefer him to brought to your lab or directly to his room?"
Donatello wrings his hands together, hating how his little brother's blood is quickly drying onto his skin and it's already starting flake. The sensation is making his skin crawl.
"I… I think that we need to get his temperature down first, so we should aim for the bathroom and then we can move him to his room since I know Michelangelo will be more comfortable there. While he's in the bathroom, I can clean and stitch up his head and check him for more injuries since April did say that he fell from the second story."
Splinter nods, running his hand along the top of Michelangelo's head one last time. He glances down as the young mutant grips his robe tighter, as if the older mutant will vanish if he's released.
At least he is not crying as hard, Splinter thinks, using his thumb to wipe at the still falling tears. "Michelangelo? Would you mind going with your brothers for a moment? Shh, I know. I know," Splinter hushes when the young turtle whimpers. "I know you are hurting and do not feel well, Little One. But your brothers are going to take good care of you until I return."
The grip on his robe tightens and the young turtle shifts. Splinter's ears twitch when Michelangelo mutters something into his chest. Leaning down, Splinter coaxes the seafoam green face out of the maroon fabric, and he stares down at the flushed face and unfocused blue eyes.
"I was not able to hear what you said, Young One. Would you mind repeating that for me?"
Michelangelo sniffles, rubbing his face with the back of his wrist guard. Troubled blue eyes meet concerned brown.
"Michelangelo?"
"I-I don't want you to go," Michelangelo whispers hoarsely, panting as a few more tears slide down his cheeks. "I n-n-need to talk to you, Sen-Sensei. It's important." Splinter's ears droop as his youngest talks, voice weak and raw from crying and the older mutant can hear a slight wheeze and rattle in the young mutant's chest as Michelangelo continues. "And I CAN'T talk to you if you're not there. I know the void keeps telling you stuff but… but you need to hear it from ME. I don't wanna make things weird and the void is making it weird. And I just want you to know that it's not and it's tots fine if you feel differently and I won't hold it against you and—"
"Michelangelo," Splinter cuts in softly, shooting a look at the eldest three turtles, slightly confused about what his youngest is rambled about. The void? Is Michelangelo talking about the Astral Plane? The oldest three each shrug, looking just as lost and confused as their master feels. Splinter refocuses on the ill one in his arms. "I…I can say…that the void and I have…have not conversed today, so I am not entirely sure what it is you are referring to. However, I promise once I get back, the two of us will be able to talk. Just the two of us. And we shall discuss whatever it is that you would like to discuss with me. All right?"
Large watery eyes the color of the open sky stare up at the ninja master and Splinter briefly has the thought of just talking to April tomorrow. But as quickly as that thought enters his mind, Splinter shoves it away as two stray tears slip from those sky-blue eyes. No. He needs to know what they spoke about last night. It has caused his youngest to run off while sick, injured, and confused. He needs to know so that he can help Michelangelo through it. A warm hand lands on the ninja master's shoulder and he glances up to meet the chestnut brown eyes wrapped in blue of his eldest.
"Leonardo?"
The katana-wielder smiles gently at his master as he kneels down.
"I can take him," Leonardo says softly before dropping his gaze to his little brother. "Michelangelo? Sensei has an errand to run, so why don't you come to me, and we'll get you back home to the lair where it's nice and warm." Leonardo rests his hand on Michelangelo's shoulder, stopping himself from wincing visibly at the heat radiating from him and yet he's not sweating. Not a good sign. "And once we get you all patched up, Sensei will be home and the two of you can talk, okay? But we gotta get you home and cleaned first."
Leonardo glances to his left when the presence of his third youngest brother appears. The hothead shoots him a solemn gaze before dropping his amber eyes to his immediate younger brother.
"Listen to Fearless, Knucklehead," Raphael gruffs. "Because you know that Leonardo isn't going to take 'No' for an answer. Besides," the red-cladded turtle smirks at his little brother. "You'll get a free ride out of this. Can't pass up a free turtle back ride, can you?" Raphael leans forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer good ol' Raphael to carry you?"
Leonardo bites the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the spark of horror that flashes in otherwise dull sky-blue eyes and Michelangelo shifts to sit up.
"No," the jokester says drowsily as he lethargically reaches out for his eldest brother. "That's… that's okay, D-Dude. Be rude," wheeze. "Be rude to decline Le-Leonardo's offer."
The leader automatically grasps his little brother's arms, helping the smaller turtle as he exchanges a glance with the rest of the family, concerned at just how out of it Michelangelo sounds.
"Easy, Michelangelo, easy. We've got you," Leonardo soothes as Splinter helps guide the youngest into the eldest's awaiting arms.
It feels as though everyone is holding their breath as Michelangelo is shift, unsure how the youngest is going to react. A tiny whimper leaves the usually fun-loving turtle as his head is jostled. It's when Leonardo slips his arms under his little brother's knees and lifts. Michelangelo's head lolls and rests in the crook of his eldest brother's neck. Leonardo's lips purse as he fights the urge to wince from just how hot his baby brother is. The stench of blood is strong this close and the smell is enough to make his stomach turn. Leonardo glances up at the rest of his family.
"Should we get going?"
Donatello releases a shaky breath before nodding and also standing, fingers twitching. He knows his fingers are still covered with his little brother's blood, something that he's never enjoyed feeling but having grown to accept as a way of their life now that they're allowed to go above ground.
The genius jumps when Raphael suddenly dumps him, dragging him from his thoughts. Clearing his throat, Donatello nods again.
"Ye-Yes, we need to get him clean and get his temperature down as quickly as possible."
Leonardo nods.
"All right, then why don't you go ahead and get the bathroom ready for him. Raphael and I will get him there as quickly as we can." Leonardo shakes his head when Donatello goes to argue. "Donatello, you're the only one who knows what the correct temperature is supposed to be at and what other objects you might need to help him. Raphael and I don't. However, what we can do is make sure that we get Michelangelo there in one piece as you get everything ready."
"And we'll have our comms on us," Raphael states, pulling his from his belt. "If something happens with the Knucklehead, we'll call you immediately."
Donatello opens his mouth to argue before closing it again, sighing in defeat. He glances up when a warm hand lands on his shoulder and he looks over at Splinter. The older mutant offers his young charge a small smile.
"Your brothers are able to handle Michelangelo, my Student. Please, go get everything ready for when they arrive."
"Hai, Sensei."
Donatello shoots his brothers one last look, eyes lingering on the curled form in his eldest brother's arms. Pulling in a deep breath, the genius forces himself to turn away and sprint back into the sewers, the only thoughts running through his head are what supplies he needs for his brother and what the best procedures would be to help the young turtle.
Leonardo and Raphael exchange a glance as they watch Donatello sprint back toward their lair. They turn their attention back to their sensei as he readjusts his robe around him.
"Sensei?"
Splinter glances over at his remaining students. His heart breaks at the slightly lost looks on the young teens' faces. The once-human walks up to them and cups each of their cheeks, a bit amused by the startled looks on their faces but he keeps his amusement to himself. Now is not the time for that. Splinter does, however, offer the two a reassuring smile.
"Everything is going to be just fine, my Students. The three of you are strong and capable in helping your brother." He uses his thumb to gently stroke at their cheeks. "I shall be back as soon I can. I have my comm if you absolutely need me but I trust that the three of you will be able to take care of your brother until I return."
Leonardo nods solemnly and both he and Raphael watch as their sensei turns and disappears into the shadows of the sewers. Leonardo releases a wary sigh before smiling weakly down at his littlest brother, holding him close.
"Oh, Michelangelo, what are we going to do with you?"
"Kick his shell when he's better is what we're gonna do," Raphael grumbles, resting a hand on his brother in blue's shoulder. "But first we gotta get the knucklehead healthy. Brainiac has probably started his bath by now and is running around the lair like a chicken with its head cut off."
Leonardo nods, motioning for Raphael to start walking at the same time he does.
"You're right and we don't want to keep Donatello waiting any longer." Leonardo spares his little brother another glance when Michelangelo coughs and shivers. "Don't worry, Little one. We'll get you all taken care of and then you tell us what's wrong so we can help you."
Michelangelo doesn't respond more than turning to hide his face into Leonardo's shoulder with a soft whine. The leader in blue and the cool but rude turtles exchange one last look before hurrying back home, thoughts swirling and concern heavy on their hearts. Hopefully their sensei can gain some answers from their redheaded friend.
