Chapter Text
The house was silent.
Normally the Hamato house was loud and lively, full of energy and spontaneous pranks that kept Raphael on edge and everyone else curious.
So when Raphael opened his door and didn’t receive a water balloon to the face, he knew something was wrong.
When those “oh no something’s seriously wrong here” instincts kicked in, they were hard to ignore.
Wandering down to the kitchen, Raph poked his head through the doorway and turned his emerald eyes to the table where Mikey was usually camped out at all times (And people called Donnie bad; Donnie fell asleep at desks. Mikey fell asleep on tables and stoves). There was nobody there, just a discarded history textbook and a water bottle.
Maybe he went out with friends? That wasn’t so hard to believe. Mikey had always been easy to be around, so he’d always had a large group of friends. Maybe he went out with them right after school and forgot to call? It sounded like something the golden-haired boy would do.
So Raph ignored those “there’s something seriously wrong here” alarms and moved back to the couch in the living room, throwing himself into the soft cushions to wait for his family to come back home.
———
Six o’clock passed and Raph was officially worried. It was six at night for god’s sake! Even Don and Leo were home (though they’d both locked themselves in their shared room doing god-knows-what), and they were usually home later than six.
Raph waited.
He wasn’t a patient person; Their father insisted he had zero patience and zero impulse control, which, honestly, was probably right. He was eighteen, shouldn’t he have more patience by now?
Apparently not, because he was still in the same spot staring at the same door and ignoring the same show that played over and over and over again in the background.
“Raph,” There was Leo, padding down the stairs in his usual blue jacket. “You should probably eat something.” His dark blue eyes were firm. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Raph simply brushed him off, shaking his head. “‘M not hungry.” He yawned into his elbow as he turned his head to stare at the tv again.
Leo scowled but didn’t press the matter, simply trotted down the remaining steps and vanished into the kitchen.
Which wasn’t the best idea. Even though he was almost twenty-one, Mikey was still the best damn cook in the house. And they all knew the kitchen was practically off-limits without him there to supervise.
Stupid Leo. His very existence made Raph want to throw a glass cup at the ground and scream.
His phone chirped, a welcomed distraction from his mind.
Grunting with the effort of reaching for it, Raph clasped his fingers around the device and pulled it off the side table, holding it above his head as he opened it, clicking on the text.
Leatherhead: Have you heard from Michelangelo?
Leatherhead: He has not responded to any of our messages recently.
Raph felt his heart stop beating and drop out of his chest.
Raphael: I thought he was w/ you??
Leatherhead: No, not all day.
Leatherhead: Are you saying he is not home?
Raphael: mother fucker
Raphael: I’ll get back to you
The likelihood of Raph actually remembering to respond to Leather was less than zero, but if it made the older feel better then he would say it.
———
Seven o’clock rolled around and there was still no sign of Mikey.
Donnie was in the basement, tinkering with nobody-knows-what down there. Raph could hear the telltale signs of occasional explosions, which couldn’t help but draw a snort from him. And Leo was in his room, probably doing stuff for work. So they were both off limits for now.
So when the front door was pushed open, Raph was the first one there.
Mikey stumbled into the house at around seven-thirty, brushing his golden hair out of his soft blue eyes. He looked a little tired, practically slumped over as he tumbled into the house, kicking the door shut closed behind him.
“Mikey!” Raph exclaimed, leaping off the couch and hurrying over to get a good look at his brother. “Jeez kid, yah gave me a hea’t attack! Where were yah?!”
He couldn’t help but notice the way baby-blue eyes flicked to the floor for a split second. “Out. With friends.” Was the clipped response he got.
Scowling, Raph reached out to drop a firm hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “Seriously man. Where’ve yah been? It’s been five hours since ya were s’posed to get home!”
“I lost track of time! Don’t worry about it, dude!” Mikey’s voice had its usual airy cheer to it as he brushed by Raph and dashed up the stairs to their shared room. “Imma go to bed! Night, Raphie!” He yelled over his shoulder. The door slammed shut behind him and Raph was left blinking in his wake.
His baby brother’s voice sounded shaky.
———
Raph absolutely did not pull back Mikey’s covers to get a good look at the younger’s face. Absolutely not. No way.
He gasped and nearly dropped the blankets.
There was a showing dark-circle around Mikey’s left eye. It was already looking purple, with a hint of green splashed in there. And his hair was more ruffled than usual, more fluffy and poofy than it usually was.
And there was blood dripping out of Mikey’s nose in his sleep. He’d gone to sleep without even noticing.
Apparently his gasp was too loud, because Mikey was sitting up very suddenly, pressing himself against the wall to avoid contact with Ralph’s outstretched hand. Blue eyes were wide with fear as he shrank back into the pillows. Raph drew back cautiously, worry and fear seeping into green eyes.
“Mikey,—“ He started cautiously, only to be cut off.
“It’s nothing! I’m fine!” Mikey snapped back, rubbing furiously at his eyes as tears began to form.
This time, Raph wouldn’t let himself be swayed. “What happened to yer nose?” He questioned carefully, watching his baby brother shrink into the wall.
Mikey opened and closed his mouth a few times, desperately seeking an answer. “I tripped,” He decided on. “And hit my face against a table.”
Eyebrows twitching, Raph pressed on. “And ya gave ya’self a black eye too?”
Wide eyes— Score one of Raphael. “What black eye? I don’t have a black eye, right?!”
That made Raph roll his eyes. “Yah, Mike. Not pretty. You look like you got into.. Into a.. A fight..—“
“What?! No way! I would never!” Mikey protested immediately, blue eyes wide with horror. “I wouldn’t get into a fight!”
“Mhm,” Raph reaches out to press one hand carefully against Mikey’s shoulder. The could feel the younger boy relaxing underneath his touch. “Ya know, Mikes, you can tell me anything.”
“I know.” It wasn’t anything special, but it made Raph’s heart swell with pride. He’d done okay by his baby brother. “You’re my best friend.”
“Really?”
Mikey nodded, eyes wide with pure honesty.
“Then wha’ happened to yer eye?”
That faint smile dropped right off of Mikey’s face and he scowled, pulling the blankets up over his head. “Seriously dude, just drop it. It’s none of your beeswax anyway.”
“I think it’s everyone’s beeswax when ya come home with a black eye.”
“Go back to sleep, Raph.” Voice giving no room for protest, Mikey shoved Raph off his bed and slumped over, rolling over and pulling the blankets over his head.
Muttering, Raph pushed himself to his feet and retreated back to his own bed, crawling back underneath the blankets.
He knew damn well that he was going to find out what happened to his baby brother.