Chapter Text
How do the colors of the sky come to be? The mixtures of blues, whites, pinks, purples, reds. It seems so beautiful. At least he thinks it is as his eyes drink up the soft hues fading into each other.
He wants to paint it. To be able to hold the colors in the palm of his hands.
A wistful sigh leaves his slightly parted mouth, still agape in awe. A lot of people do not usually look up at the sky. They do not realize what they have. If he has to be completely honest, he feels guiltily envious of those who can look at the beauty that is the sky in their disinterest at any moment. Not like how he has to sneak around to take a peek. Not like how he stares now at the box in front of him.
It fizzles for a quick second.
He should mention that next time.
But not right now. Not while transfixed, eyes unable to break away from the scene in front of himself. Mikey's knees draw up to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head leaning comfortably on top, as Mikey's mind captures the colors. Who knows how long he will be able to witness this as it is?
The colors darken. Blue mixing into purple, turning blacker. As it does, bright lights start to filter through. They blink into existence as if they weren't always there to watch over everyone. It feels like the galaxies open up just for Mikey's very eyes to drink in the wonders.
Black.
He blinks. Why–?
A harsher-sounding sigh this time as his eyes close. The screen turned off again. It makes sense. The frame was only a prototype from his self-proclaimed genius of a brother, not yet fully developed like he wanted it to be, the promise of multiple scenes at any time Mikey wanted to be left hanging for the future. Not yet completed. His only way to view the sky right now, not reachable at the moment.
A smile creeps on his face. Swirls of colors breach in the darkness of his mind's eye.
At least he has his memories.
''Mikey?''
As a single tear flows down the orange turtle's face, he turns towards Donnie, who just entered the room.
''Did it shut off again?'' The soft-shell observes the prototype before patting Mikey's head.
Mikey nods, his gaze moving up to the ceiling with a sigh.
''I see...'' Donnie brings up his glasses as he joins Mikey in gazing up.
''Do stars shine that bright, D?'' Mikey looks back at his big brother, his eyes still watery.
''They do.'' Donatello's sudden embrace of the little turtle startles him. ''They shine almost as bright as you do.''