Chapter Text
A few days later of chaos and utter mayhem, Donnie walks into his lab. Getting Mikey to comprehend the fact that he needed to stay home and heal was a tiresome event, especially since he refused to listen. But after a couple hours of sighing and on the verge of giving up, Mikey started to listen and Donnie explained, (almost yelled) very slowly that he needs to heal otherwise it can get worse and the symptoms will increase. His little brother is still healing, but he's gotten better after the last couple days. Donnie pauses, looking around his lab, something seemed off. Not dangerously off, just off, like the air was different or something changed slightly when he was gone. The tall boy looked around his lab trying to place where the difference was; his eyes landed on his medicine cabinet. The first aid kit was gone. Now, he wouldn't be mad at this usually, but no one had asked him beforehand and he hasn't exactly had a good amount of sleep for the past few days. Donnie storms out of the lab, going to get answers.
The tallest turtle storms into the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were currently. Leo puts down his tea and turns his head towards Donnie in confusion. "Who the hell took my first-aid kit?!" Raph looks up from his magazine slowly, a small smirk on his face. Donnie doesn't find this pleasing.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Donnie," Leo responds, a blank expression on his face. Donnie looks back over to Raph, and he only seems to find this amusing because Donnie's angry. Which, of course only makes him more pissy. However, he doesn't have the energy to fight right now. So, he storms out of the kitchen, his feet stomping with malice and annoyance.
Casey sits on one of the cushions in the main room, watching whatever shitty show was on TV. He's leaned back, one arm hanging on the upper level and his legs crossed over one another. He turns to look at Donnie who stomps up to him. "Waddup, Dee," Casey says, very unknowing.
"Jones, what did you do with my first-aid kit?!" Donnie half-yells. Which makes Casey raise an eyebrow and shrugs.
"I dunno, didn't touch it."
The turtle doesn't respond and walks across the room to the hallway where the bedrooms meet.
~x~
His feet kick back and forth behind him in rhythm, turning his head slightly to see the words on the page better. Mikey looks up from his comic to see Donnie barge into his room. Now he remembers he still has his red box thingy. The worst part is: he never asked for it and he never was supposed to go skating because he's still healing. So at the very least, he's fucked.
"Mikey. What did you do with my first-aid kit?!" Oh, that's what its called. Donnie looks the floor next to Mikey's bed and sees the red container. Oh shit. "Why do you have it?!" The younger brother looks away in embarrassment. Mikey wasn't supposed to be skating while he was healing and if Donnie finds out then he's screwed. Royally.
"Uhhhh, I dunno." Donnie picks up the box, opening it to scan the contents and to see if anything was missing. He rearranges the items then closes it, looking back to his brother.
"Yes, you do. Why did you have this?" Donnie places a hand on his hip, furrowing his brow. Mikey purses his lips slightly, trying to come up with a lie quickly. He's never been good under pressure.
"Ice Cream Kitty got hurt," Mikey blurts out, immediately regretting it once he did.
Donnie gives him a mixed look of dissatisfaction and anger. "You wen't skating didn't you?"
Mikey pauses for a second, looking away because he knows he's horrible at lying once he's already caught. "Nooooooooo," Mikey looks back up to Donnie, getting scared if his older brother gets pissed off enough. "Yesssss."
Donnie scoffs and rubs his temple, "You're supposed to be healing. Not skating!" Mikey flinches his head back a little when Donnie yells, definitely not expecting the amount of irritation in his tone.
"I was getting bored! What do you want from me?!" Mikey responds, sitting up on his bed slightly.
"Oh, I don't know, not trying to cause more pain for yourself?!" Donnie throws his hand up in frustration.
"I can hurt myself all I want! It's not like you would care!" The shorter turtle stands up from his bed, throwing the comic he hand in his hands onto the bed.
Donnie doesn't respond after that. He just looks at his little brother with a slight shocked expression, his mouth open slightly. He turns around and leaves the room.
What a brother he is.