Chapter Text
The cacophony of children's screams and the frequent outbursts of whacking, hitting, and kicking evoked memories he thought he had left behind.
Mikey's job was chill at first, playing with a few kids at their birthday seemed easy and was. The first few gigs came and went, and Mikey was incredibly pleased with the amount of birthday cake people would give away. It was a nice reprieve from the cold quiet of the lair these days, the loudness of the parties bringing some life into his life now Leo was gone, Raph had as-good-as followed him, and Donnie was working all day.
Don’t get him wrong, Mikey still managed to bother Donnie during evenings when both of them were off work, they would watch movies together and it was nice, but the weeks after Donnie decided to start his own work, Mikey had been alone in the lair, maybe alone for the first time in his life. Art and cooking and cartoons only proved so much of a distraction when all Mikey craved was some physical contact, some rough-housing with his brothers, some bloody company.
Two weeks after Leo left Mikey had set up a prank for Raph, to lighten his spirits ya know? It wasn’t anything damaging, and it wasn’t anything that Raph should have gotten annoyed about, but of course he did. He was in a mood. He was always I”n a mood”. Well, Donnie had asked Mikey to ‘not make his life harder’ so Mikey let up, which proved boring and turned the days so monotonous that Mikey’s brain would be left buzzing all day with pent up energy, the kind of fizzing feeling that skating alone didn’t help dissipate, the kind of mildly painful feeling that left him overstimulated if he didn’t get-up-and-do-something-now, the kind of feeling his brothers used to help with.
So, he took on more jobs, at least then he was out of the lair. Vaguely he wondered if it was some unhealthy dependency on his brothers who were the only people apart from his dad that he interacted with for 15 years… or if it was entirely normal to get depressed when you’re alone and lonely and sad.
As Cowabunga Carl started to become more popular among kids, they started getting a bit more violent. It was a slow build up at first, courtesy of his own giant foam nunchucks; the kids wanted a go swinging them around, hitting each other and him. It was fine, cute even as he instructed them how to not hurt themselves or others. But as he got more popular, older kids booking him, kids becoming more comfortable with him and the parent’s being led to believe that his ‘foam suit’ protected him… well the kids started to hit harder. And sometimes brought their own objects to throw at him or whack him with, which was just great. Exactly what he signed up for, ‘no really, Donnie its not that bad-‘
He was a mutant with a hard shell and had graduated as a ninja when he was 14, he could deal with it just fine. Or that’s what he kept telling himself as he fought not to flinch 4 months into this new and (Hey Don, what’s the opposite of improved? “Not now Mikey.”) un-improved development. Apparently, being hit and kicked without being able to defend yourself proved to be an unexpected trigger for him.
As a seasoned ninja, (Ha! Paprika ninja. He would be turmeric ninja of course, courtesy of orange,) he had faced perilous battles and rescued countless individuals, including frightened children. Yet, now, the relentless onslaught of chaos of each birthday party caused him to sweat through his too-large, and too-stuffy mask, the stress stirring, well it just tended to echo of his past feats - just a little bit - no matter how great they were at the time and left him grappling with uncomfortable emotions. Especially considering his environment. Oh, no, but of course he would love to have a panic attack in the middle of some little-dude’s birthday party, that would be perfect. Just. Perfect.
Parties had children being messy and screaming, he had anticipated that, heck he had even anticipated having to deal with the horrible texture and smell of vomit all down his front that one time a mother wanted a picture of Cowabunga Carl with her very upset toddler. Had not been a fun end to his day, but at least he was compensated and got to leave early.
He had anticipated, mess and screaming and kids being slightly rough. But as the parents quietly chatted around him all he could hear was a distant ringing, his body bruised and battered as he smelled smoke from the fire. In the midst of seemingly harmless chaos, as the children shrieked and played, he stumbled slightly to sit down as their innocent laughter intertwined with the haunting echoes of screams from a not-so-distant past. Mikey's heart raced, his palms grew clammy, and his breath quickened with each shrill cry. It was just little Bailey arguing with Jonas- Jones?- Jone-something. Whatever. Just kids being kids.
He wasn’t being beat up by the Foot.
It wasn’t the night were Leo was defenestrated.
There is no scream of horror of someone being stabbed in a back alley before Mikey could get to them.
Zac isn’t here crying with what might be his last breaths.
There is no fire.
He is breathing clean air goddamnit. There is no smoke. That’s just birthday cake. Just birthday cake.
He never wants to go to another birthday party. He never wants to eat way-too-sweet buttercream ever again.
He never wants to have to sing the happy birthday song again. Which is so dumb because now the happy birthday song just smells of smoke and burning in his lungs.
Now whenever he sees a kid, he is just reminded of Zac, his desperate cries deafening in Mikey’s ears as he raced against time.
So ya, he hated his job. And he might just hate kids now too.
Which sucks cause it seemed so logical at first, so easy as well. Mikey had many many regrets. Each time he entered the Shellraiser, now converted into the ‘Cowabunga Carl party van’, he had to take some deep breaths and hype himself up before he turned on his comm so Donnie could direct him to the next hellscape he had to perform for.
He took up this job because it paid decently and got him out of the house. But now he was out, out of the horrible isolation of the lair, yet still forcing himself into a different kind of pain… but he couldn’t tell Donnie. His poor older brother who was hanging on by the skin of his teeth. He needed Donnie as happy as possible, and if he told Donnie, his older brother would force him to stop, which would put Donnie under even more stress. They were already relying on what food banks would give away as to not let Master Splinter know money was tight, no way would Mikey compromise this family even more.
So, Mikey put up with it, and despite everything, he is glad he did.
Mikey met Woody Dirkins after a terrible day. He had had 2 parties back-to-back, about 5 hours each, and had to deal with a horrible parent who insulted him and nearly refused to pay him if this lady - who was clearly a friend of theirs - hadn’t stepped in he might have just left without the payment. He was so tired. He stumbled into the Shellraiser, made it all of 6 minutes driving away from that horrible, horrible house, before the non-existent smell of smoke overtook him and he pulled over haphazardly, running out of the van and into a nearby alleyway to cry it out.
Crying was good for the soul, but Mikey couldn’t be out here in the middle of New York vulnerable, it just put him more on edge, which was not at all productive for his oncoming panic attack. But the next thing he knew a warm hand was on his shoulder, his own hand pressed into someone’s chest. He could feel their heartbeat, and he could hear their words; “in and out, there you go.”
Coming down from a panic attack was never pleasant, but gradually, as the memories start to subside, there's a sense of relief, of calm. His breathing begins to steady, the racing of his heart begins to slow, and the chaotic thoughts start to quiet down. It's like finding a small oasis of calm amidst the storm, a moment of respite from the overwhelming onslaught of fear and anxiety.
Mikey looked up to meet who must have been his soulmate because the delight of a man that was Woody Dirkins had come across a giant walking, talking turtle, helped him come down from a panic attack with the expertise that comes with having a little sister with ASD, and then offered him a fresh, just out the oven, pizza.
Woody worked as a pizza delivery guy, had actually delivered to them a few times, small world. They were a fairly recognisable order to be fair, a shit ton of pizza delivered to a grate in an alleyway. They were the local pizza legends after all. But Woody was on his way to have his own takeaway dinner at home, so he invited Mikey back with him. Mikey compromised with sitting up on a rooftop, so he didn’t leave Donnie’s beloved van all alone and ripe for carjacking. Van-jacking.
It became a regular thing. Pizza on the rooftops after Mikey was done for the day. As he spent more time with Woody, Mikey began to feel that easy, lovely ease and comfort while around him, Woody was laid-back, which was refreshing, and Mikey didn’t feel like he had to put any ‘effort’ into their conversations or their time together – you know? So, he started hanging out with Woody more often than he was home. He still went home of course at 6.30 at the latest to make and have dinner with Donnie and Master Splinter, but when Donnie retreated back to his lab Mikey would leave again until late. Sometimes he would sleep over, crash midway through a movie marathon. Mikey had asked a bit at the beginning if it was okay, if he should leave, but Woody had said he was always welcome, that he was “a vibe” and if Woody wasn’t up to seeing someone that day he would tell Mikey, but other than that Mikey could come round “whenever”.
Mikey didn’t tell anyone about Woody. They didn’t notice him going out anyways. Everything was fine, Mikey was the happiest he had been in a while, which made Donnie happier. He even managed to drag the older into a Lord of the Rings marathon finally! – the extended version.
Mikey couldn't help but feel a twinge of something uncomfortable as he watched Donnie exhaustion and stress lining his face, weighing him down even after he had passed out midway through Two Towers. He had jolted himself awake after an hour, with a crick in his neck. Seeing Donnie yawn loudly and stretch his arms with a small smile of satisfaction, it was like catching a glimpse of the Donnie he should be. As he grumbled and spouted some nonsense about hobbits perceiving the world as a bagel. But then the illusion would shatter as quick as it formed. No matter how much Mikey engaged him, Donnie was so obviously tired that Mikey felt bad for even suggesting they do a marathon. Donnie could probably be using this time to actually get some sleep in. But what would make things better is a sleepover! It was just a matter of snuggling up to Donnie and dropping some hints about not wanting to go to bed because ‘I had a nightmare last night’. Mikey did in fact get nightmares, but Donnie got them alarmingly consistency. That meaning literally every night.
Now, the nightmares weren’t exactly new. After saving the world and risking your life a few times, nightmares were a given, but the frequency was concerning. It didn't take long for Mikey to connect the dots—his older brother's increasing stress levels were taking a toll on his mental well-being. So, he had made it his mission to ensure Donnie ate properly, he forced breaks using his youngest brother privilege, and bought some bean bags for the lab, so they could hang out there when Donnie still wanted to work on something. Sometimes even bunking down in the lab with him to chase away the nightmares with a small turtle pile. But Donnie didn’t make it easy. And Mikey couldn’t lie, he was getting tired of the whole song and dance.
Now Mikey was spending more time away from the lair, Donnie seemed more willing to ‘be nagged’ when Mikey was home. So maybe the best thing to do would be to stop being so uptight with Donnie? But also maybe not, because Donnie might start neglecting sleep again…
When Mikey was home, he would alternate from nagging Donnie to spending time with Master Splinter. His father must be lonely, at least somewhat. They would play all sorts of board games on the days Master Splinter indulged him, and on others they would simply meditate together. It was something Master Splinter had always done with Leo, and a part of Mikey thought that maybe if he got good enough at meditating, he would be able to reach out to Leo… somewhere on the spiritual plane thing that Leo was always going on about. Not that either of them had ever been able to do that before, but a turtle could hope.
Mikey would never want to think negatively of his father. He loves Master Splinter as easily as a breathing. But in Mikey's heart, there's a tangled ball of yarn, like a cat has bat at it over the years and it got all messy. Despite harbouring some deep-seated discontentment with their father's decisions, there's an undeniable reverence for the old rat who had raised them. Sure, there were times when Mikey couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment, especially considering Splinter's role in sending Leo away and the pressure he had always placed on Leo and Raph and now Donnie too... But beneath it all, Splinter remained their dad, and as Splinter grew older, Mikey couldn't shake off the subtle signs that Splinter was aging. It wasn't just the grey fur that was starting to show around his muzzle or the slight tremor in his paws as he reached for his teacup. It was the way he moved more slowly, the way his usually sharp eyes seemed to lose focus more often. Mikey had always seen Splinter as this invincible figure, the rock-solid foundation of their family. But he wasn’t a kid anymore and at 18, he now realised that his father wasn't immune to the passage of time. So, Mikey felt an urgency, a desire to make the most of the time they had left together. He wanted to cherish his father, he saw how his father missed Leo and despite how hard he was on them, he was doing his best. He was doing what he thought was best. So, Mikey shoved all the ugly feelings down, and plastered on a smile convincing enough to fool April, so it had to be convincing enough to fool his father.
But Leo was slow to reply to Mikey’s letters, like really slow, and getting slower. His responses to Mikey’s ramblings were short and simple, but without the flare that made Leo Leo, ya know. Quite frankly it sucked, it felt like Leo’s physical distance was ever increasing. Why he didn’t take a phone Mikey would never understand, (he could never go without movies for a whole year!) but Leo had always been a perfectionist and a workaholic. Mikey couldn’t wait until he was home.
-
Mikey had stopped making regular breakfasts for the family. He had excused himself due to work and all, but honestly, he just didn’t find cooking fun anymore, it felt like a chore. And Mikey loved cooking, he didn’t want it to feel like a chore! So he cut down on it in hopes that he would… get better? I guess? Same as cutting down on spending time with Donnie so that when he did spend time with Donnie it was even sweeter!
Donnie often took his breakfast to the lab, Raph was never awake that early and Master Splinter only ate breakfast with the family on weekends. For their usual shopping list Mikey bought cereal, pre-sliced bread and jam. Yogurt, granola and berries. Anything that was pre-made, that he could slap into a bowl and call a day. Sometimes he missed eggs, they were his favourite breakfast food to make; runny yolk on an eggs benedict or something similar.
Lunches were a different story, Mikey made most of those on Mondays – his day off from work because no one had a birthday party on a Monday. He would spend all day Monday in the kitchen pretty much, prepping at least four lunches worth to lighten his load during the week. Mikey had been repetitive recently, which was fine up until Master Splinter had approached him one day asking if he was okay. Of course he brushed it off, he was just settling into work life is all. He tried to not be too repetitive after that. Scouring the internet for different types of things to cook. Lets spruce up the menu, make things fun, lets get some traditional food in there, and lets destroy tradition entirely to make something even tastier!
Mikey managed to convince Donnie out of the lab about once a week to share a lunch. Master Splinter usually ate earlier than Donnie, so while sometimes they would eat together, often Master Splinter ate alone. Mikey couldn’t help but wonder if his father was lonely or if he really did just like the solitude.
Raph usually didn’t wake up until noon-ish which ran the risk of him interrupting their lunch in the kitchens. Mikey was debating allowing Donnie to eat in the lab because of this. He didn’t want to though, because if Donnie started eating in the lab he would never leave the goddamn lab. But the kitchen was open to the lounge so they couldn’t just move to the lounge, and they really did have to move because Donnie and Raph got into it every. Single. Time.
Today was one of those days, and as Raph strode briskly through the kitchen, Donnie eyed him warily. Mikey groaned internally.
"Hey, where's the fire, Raph?" Donnie quipped, voice light and airy as if Raph hadn’t been avoiding him for the past month.
Raph's response, however, was far from jovial. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he shot back, "None of your beeswax Asshole."
A flash of irritation crossed Donnie’s features, the regular face he made when talking to, referring to or thinking about his twin these days. "Geez, no need to be so touchy," he muttered under his breath.
Mikey knew all too well the volatile dynamic between his brothers by now. He had felt that all too familiar spark of irritation that seemed to be infecting all his brothers recently, but unlike them he forced himself to chill the fuck out fairly successfully each time. He took a deep breath and relaxed, everything would be happy-go lucky, Raph couldn’t take this from them, Mikey was too tired to suffer through Donnie having another meltdown. And wasn’t that just a horrible thought. Mikey was a horrible brother.
"Ignore him Don, Raph's got his own thing going on." He stated with a wave of his hand, hoping Donnie would do just that and just let Raph leave without a fight for once.
But Donnie wasn't about to back down, they were both so stubborn. As stubborn as their absent older brother. Mikey cursed his stupid, hardheaded siblings.
"Yeah, well, so do the rest of us," he retorted, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "It wouldn't hurt Raph to show a little consideration once in a while."
Raph's beak curled down into a sneer as he shot a pointed look in Donnie's direction. "Consideration? Coming from you? That's rich."
Mikey winced at the escalating tension, only relaxing as Raph stormed out of the kitchen. Thank God. It seemed like peace was always just out of reach in their household.
Mikey couldn't help but feel a deep-seated frustration every time he came across Raph in the lair these days. His older brother was mostly holed up in his room, sleeping the day away, ignoring or yelling at Mikey whenever he tried to bring Raph food or drink. Of course, because what else would he do but yell?
Sometimes Mikey came home from work, wanting to pass out but knowing he would have to cook instead of taking a nice long bath, and there Raph would be, slouching on the couch like it was his throne, taking up more space than necessary, and staring blankly at the television screen. Raph had been so angry the first month after Leo left. So, so angry he got into an argument that Mikey had only heard through the walls, had put his headphones on and blasted his music so loud his ears were ringing as he picked up the broken purple pieces of his usually so put-together, so smart and level-headed older brother. Raph had left that night. Mikey spent the next few hours putting Donnie to bed. But that was months ago. And now… It was as if Raph had resigned himself to a life of lethargy, content to waste away the hours with mindless entertainment – he didn’t even like what he was watching, and Mikey knew it! (Sometimes it would be gameshows that use to drive Raph up the wall with how dumb they were, and sometimes just be the news. Raph never watched the damn news.) The way he sat there, indifferent, and unresponsive, grated on Mikey's nerves. He had stopped feeling sympathy sometime after the fifth month of this… self-pity – whatever it was. Because it had been months. After they originally stopped patrolling (because Raph refused to listen to a word Donnie said and ended up getting hurt) Mikey had done his best to help Raph adjust, had tried to support Raph with everything and was just rebuffed and shouted at. He had done his best, he was so tired of chaining this family together when, clearly all they wanted was to self-destruct considering the amount of resistance he was always shown. He didn’t want to be shouted at anymore, or shoved, or rebuffed constantly.
Mikey never ignored Raph, despite wanting to show his brother a taste of his own medicine. He rose above it despite that petty instinct constantly nagging at the back of his mind. He tried his best to stay upbeat, politely exchanging pleasantries when Raph passed by, not that Raph ever stuck around Mikey long enough for a real conversation.
Mikey felt like shit when he was at home. But Donnie needed him. So, Mikey did his best. He would meet with Woody during lunch breaks, and boy wasn’t it refreshing to be around someone who actually enjoyed his company. Who didn’t need anything from him other than to relax in each other’s presence. And after work he returned dutifully and had dinner with his father and Donnie. Reminded Donnie to sleep, encouraged Donnie to chat with April a bit, woke Donnie when he was having a nightmare, and comforted Donnie back to sleep. It was almost like clockwork.
-
April was busy a lot of the time and Raph was with Casey a lot of evenings – which was good, even if that meant Mikey hadn’t seen Casey recently. April still tried to make time for them, Mikey forced Donnie to join her for movie nights about once every two to three weeks. Any excuse for him to leave his lab and get some fresh air. Mikey didn’t see April much without Donnie though, but April was Donnie’s best friend and Mikey had his own secret best friend so that was fine. It was totally fine.
They still texted, hours apart but their broken conversations full of pictures of stray cats were enough for Mikey.
Mikey often found himself hovering over his phone, thumb pausing uncertainly above the screen as he caught himself in the familiar routine of asking April to pick up toilet roll, more bread, those things you put in a toilet so it cleans itself when it flushes. She didn’t buy things for them anymore, shad her own place now, her own responsibilities. This was fine, what wasn’t fine was that Raph wouldn’t go fetch these things if Mikey asked. Nor if Donnie asked. Which meant that Mikey would have to do everything a per usual. Unless… Mikey shot Casey a quick text, with a sigh, Mikey set his phone down, why was something so stupid making him so sad? Raph wasn’t even worth his tears right now! He had sent Casey request to bluff that April needed them to go pick up some stuff from the shop… hopefully Raph would pick more toilet roll up if they were already at the store when Mikey messaged. And hopefully he wouldn’t let Casey pay. Mikey knew he usually took cash from the former swear jar turned pizza money – which was actually just a few bucks a day that Mikey dropped off in there so that Raph didn’t have to rely on Casey to pay for him every single time they went out. While April would probably be fine with it, she didn’t need the added stress when her work was rocky right now.
Raph owed him endless cocktails and Mikey was willing to collect that debt once Leo returned.
-
Mikey closed the lab door with a quiet click. He could see Donnie’s apathetic façade crack ever so slightly. He selfishly hoped it wouldn’t shatter.
"Okay Dee, it's time for a break! Movie break!"
His brother sat hunched over his desk, his untrimmed nails clacking over the keyboard, a calculator clutched in his other hand. The faint glow of his computer screen illuminated his features, accentuating the shadows under his eyes.
Donnie glanced up briefly, before returning to his screen. "I can't, Mikey. I'm in the middle of budgeting," he replied, his voice strained.
Mikey frowned, “Dee-“
Donnie cut him off, “You wanted that comic thing, right. If you want it, you need to leave me be. Splinter has been going through his tea twice as fast as he used to, so I need to order some more by tomorrow or he’ll be out, I just need to consider that with the shopping list you gave me okay, because I was gonna set up a savings account but I don’t have e- just, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be done in two minutes.”
Civil War had come out the month prior, and with it a load of merchandise, sure he loved the Silver Sentry, and the comic was fire, but any desire he had had for the stupid merch almost immediately decapitated at Donnie’s words. He felt selfish for even mentioning it to Donnie. Fuck he hated being poor.
“Don’t worry about that, I don’t need anything, I’ll get stuff for myself if I have leftover cash, yeah?”
“I can probably squeeze in the video game-“
“Forget it, really Don. I don’t even know when I would have time to play it. But when I do, I’ll just get it for myself with my own lil cash stash.”
Donnie looked at Mikey, regret evident. “I’m sorry Mikey. I was going to set up some savings-“
Mikey ignored him. "Donnie, it's late, you've been working too many hours. You need a break."
Donnie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm fine, Mikey. It's not a big deal," he insisted, but the weariness in his voice betrayed his words.
Mikey's heart sank at the sight of his brother's exhaustion. This wasn't the first time he'd seen Donnie like this, it was practically a daily occurrence by now. Overwhelmed and burdened by responsibilities he shouldn't have to bear alone. Mikey loved his father, but at times like these he wished Splinter hadn’t felt the need to ‘elect a new leader’. Leo wasn’t the head of the family, and neither was Donnie. Yes, they were adults, but Splinter was they father. Why couldn’t he help?
(Whenever Mikey caught himself thinking like this, he felt like punching himself – just viscerally decking himself good. Because he knew that Splinter was practically blind, that he had chronic pains just about everywhere with his body getting more fragile, that his claws and teeth had to be filed down twice a month which messed with his dexterity, that he was old and couldn’t read a screen without destroying his already deteriorating eyesight.)
"I know you say you're fine, but I can see how stressed you are," Mikey said softly, "You don't have to carry all of this on your own, Donnie. ‘B Team stands for Best-Team’, remember?"
Donnie looked away; his expression conflicted. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, Mikey," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mikey's heart ached at his brother's admission. He wanted to reassure Donnie, to tell him everything would be okay, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded, and brought Donnie into a hug. He felt goosebumps on his arms at the coldness of the lab.
"Come on, Donnie. Let's take a break," Mikey urged after a minute. "We can watch a movie and forget about everything else for a while. It'll be good for both of us."
Things would be better once Leo returned. Donnie had always looked up to him, and despite any hidden resentment from this whole ✨situation✨ Donnie would be lighter once Leo could help out with Raph and take over some of these duties that had piled up in his absence. Once Raph and Donnie were talking again things would be better. They obviously missed each other.
Things would be better once Leo returned.
-
-
-
Leo doesn't return home at the year mark.
At first, the family reassured themselves with thoughts of delayed travels, unexpected detours, or perhaps an urgent mission detaining him. But as days turned into weeks with no word from Leo, despite April posting several letters, their optimism waned, replaced by a lingering sense of unease.
If Mikey had thought the lair felt empty before… well, he had survived knowing that Leo would return sooner every day. Now though… The lair felt emptier than ever. Leo’s absence casting a shadow over their daily routines. Everything felt quieter.
Splinter was obviously sad, Donnie has refused to comment on it, his worry almost palpable whenever Leo’s name was brought up. But Raph was predictably the one to bring it up first.
“You think he’s dead then?”
Donnie’s head whipped to his twin, a carefully blank look over his face.
“Shut up Raph!” Mikey let out, standing up so suddenly his seat crashed to the floor. “You didn’t even fucking write to him.”
Raph scoffed, face hard. “So you think he just stayed away ‘cause he likes it there better or something?”
Mikey flinched. He didn’t look at Donnie who was suddenly so quiet. “What like you? You’re can’t say shit Raphael, you have abandoned this family! Leo’s miles away but you might as well be!”
He grabbed Don by the arm and slammed the lab door as loud as he could.
Mikey couldn't bear to entertain the idea, couldn't fathom the thought of Leo willingly leaving them behind. Yet, as each day passed without a sign of his brother, the seed of doubt took root, blooming into a consuming fear. And he had hadn’t he. He left them a year ago, and he chose to continue to leave them now.
He tried to push the thoughts away, burying them beneath layers of false hope and reassurances that he verbalised as he rubbed Donnie’s arms, shoulder to elbow. Grounding Donnie came first. But deep down, a nagging voice echoed in his mind, taunting him with the possibility that Leo had chosen to leave them, to abandon them, that he wanted to leave, that Mikey wasn’t wanted. That Mikey and the promise of family wasn’t enough to bring Leo home… That Mikey might as well have driven both of his older brothers away with his clinginess and neediness.
It tore at Mikey's heart.
And then Donnie kicked him out. That hadn’t happened since he was 16. Since his diagnosis had Donnie trying to be more accommodating. Donnie had set up a system to cater to Mikey’s ADHD, a set of rules Mikey had to follow to cater to Donnie’s own OCD. Mikey had been asked to leave before while Donnie was stressed, but Mikey had never been thrown out while Donnie was clearly two loud noises away from a panic attack.
Mikey drifted back past the lounge; Raph was gone. Mikey sent Casey a text. Sometimes Mikey wished Raph would just leave for good and stop taunting him like this. Hopefully Raph wouldn’t leave for good… Mikey hoped Raph wouldn’t leave because of him. Mikey's shoulders slumped as he realized there was no one to turn to.
The weight of loneliness settles heavily upon him as he quietly enters his bedroom. He hadn’t slept in here for weeks. Slipping beneath the covers, he feels a slight refuge in the darkness beneath the blanket. Casey had Raph, while Donnie and Master Splinter weren’t anywhere close to his room, he knew this subconsciously, but it still felt like a betrayal slightly as he haphazardly tried to muffle his sobs. How they couldn’t hear he didn’t know, because everything felt so loud to him in the empty silence of his room. He cries until his pillow is damp with tears, until the ache in his heart threatens to consume him entirely. It's a bitter reminder of the absence of his brothers, a void that looms large in the once vibrant tapestry of their family.
Crying is heathy. It gets all the built-up emotions out when words can’t express them. That’s what Mikey has always believed… but it’s hard to believe that something so painful can be good for you.