Chapter Text
“Alright Hypno, it’s time for you to disappear!” A cocky turtle in a blue mask called, leaning against one of his swords with a smirk. In a flourish, Leo swung the weapon towards his target, using the momentum to thrust his second sword at the mutant hippopotamus. Hypno dodged the attack, the blade swishing past his wide nose uncomfortably closely. The villain was sweating already, but he was far from safe, as less than a moment later the cold metal of Donnie’s Tech-Bo connected with the back of his head, sending him sailing towards the floor. Far more athletic than he appeared, the mutant magician caught himself with his hands, springing back onto his feet and backing away from the shell-clad threat. The large mutant was stumbling, the blow to his head sending his brain spinning, but he managed to get out of bashing range, at least for a moment.
Luckily, Hypnopotamus still had his most powerful weapon. Now… the tech wiz or the show boater? He asked himself, deciding on the first option and turning his attention to the purple clad turtle. Taking a deep breath, he howled out the name of his trick: “MesmeROOOOO!”
As soon as his echoing voice bellowed across the few feet between him and the turtle, a larger figure blocked the spell, shielding his brother. Well, no complaints from the performer in question, the turtle with the red mask was the strongest one, anyways. Raphael stared up at Hypno dizzily, a faint purple hue to his eyes signifying that the spell had landed.
“Destroy your brothers!” The well-dressed hippo ordered, his puffing breath betraying his desperation to escape the fight without further injury. Raph nodded to him in understanding, before turning to face the turtle behind him.
“Uh-oh,” Leo gulped, turning his gaze to his brother and giving Hypno the chance to escape he had been hoping to manufacture. A puff of smoke and he was on his way, speeding down the streets of New York until he made it back home to Warren.
Raphael took a swing at Donnie, narrowly missing an impact with the soft shelled turtle’s skull that would have cut his massive brain down a size or two. Donnie let out a gasp as he dodged, holding his Tech-Bo in front of him defensively, but reluctant to attack the other turtle. Leo had tried a sneak attack from behind to shock his brother out of the hypnotism, but their leader’s training was better than that. He spun around and grabbed the lunging turtle from mid air, sending him crashing into his twin instead, the two ending up a tangle of limbs nearly 20 feet away.
Before he could continue the assault on them, a chain wrapped itself around Raphael’s wrist. He pulled sharply, easily winning the contest of strength against his youngest brother and yanking Mikey towards him. Before the box turtle’s feet could hit the ground again, a fist connected with his jaw, sending him spinning across the floor until he came crashing to a stop between Raph’s feet. Mikey let out a groan of pain, but cut himself off when he realized the dangerous look in the eyes behind the red mask.
As he began trying to scramble away, a heavy fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs. Winded from the blow, Mikey couldn’t roll out of the way before the other fist connected with his chest, a wheeze of pain the only thing he could get out. Towering above him, his big brother was living up to his title, making the other turtle very aware of their size difference as another punch came careening towards his chest. A dull CRACK! could be heard after the impact, and Donnie and Leo scrambled to untangle themselves and get back to their other two brothers as quickly as they could.
But everything was happening so fast. A punch, another punch, and another, cracks slowly branching out across Michelangelo’s plastron from the impacts. The youngest member of the team whimpered and wheezed after each blow, his arms scrambling to try and pull himself away despite how leaden his body felt. Raph was hurting him. And not just the bumps and bruises he often received in their wrestling matches, this pain was real, intense. He could feel his lungs trembling as they pulled in whatever breath he could, crushed beneath the fists of the other turtle, and he was doing his best to fight back the blackness behind his eyes with each explosion of pain. His eyes were wide with panic; for the first time in his life, he felt legitimately afraid of his older brother.
Leo and Donnie reached them, grabbing onto Raph’s arms to try and prevent the ambush on their little brother. But… he was just so much stronger than them, so much bigger. Without him holding back from hurting them, they didn’t stand a chance, which was made clear as they were sent flying again as soon as they had wrapped their arms around his. Another blow focused on Mikey. Tears were spilling down his orange mask, the sharp taste of blood beginning to fill his mouth as his stomach felt hot. Raph raised his fist for another punch.
As Hypno got farther away, his control on the spell did as well. The hypnotism disappeared from Raphael’s mind just as suddenly as it had taken control.
And just in time for the now-present turtle to watch his massive fist plunge through the stomach of his baby brother.
For a moment, it felt like time froze. Everyone stared in shock at the scene, watching as if in slow motion as the massive fist of Raphael finally splintered Mikey’s shell, blood bursting up from the impact sight like a geyser as his knuckles and shattered bits of plastron tore through the soft skin of the other’s belly. They stared at the spot Raph’s fist had disappeared, his red-splattered wrist the only part of it visible. They stared at Mikey’s wide-eyed look of shock as blood began to bubble up over his lips.
Snapping to, Raph yanked his fist back like it had been burned, his own eyes the size of dinner plates. “Mike… M-MIKEY?!” The snapping turtle yelped. His head reeled looking at his injured brother and the crimson-drenched fist attached to his own body. No. No no no no no, surely not. Surely this was a nightmare of some kind, surely he hadn’t just…
Before he could drop down to Mikey’s side, he was shoved away by Donatello, he and Leo rushing to the younger turtle. Mikey moaned weakly, his small body curling in on itself as he rolled onto his side, a steady trickle of saliva and blood spilling from his mouth. There were tears pooling with the mixture below his head, his eyes frantic but the words he was trying to get out just resembling a strangled gurgle. Leonardo gently pulled the other’s head onto his lap, stroking Mikey’s cheek reassuringly and trying to swallow back his tears as he whispered everything would be ok. Donnie slowly moved the younger turtle’s hands away from his stomach with uncharacteristic gentleness. Raph realized it was because his own hands were shaking.
As the purple wearing turtle examined the wound, the shadow over his face only darkened. “We need to get him home… now.” Donnie ordered, the urgency in his typically dry voice blatant. Leo nodded, his own shaken gaze drifting up to their eldest brother for a moment.
Raph was staring at Mikey with wide, detached eyes. He felt like he was standing behind his own body, unable to get himself to move towards his brothers. His trembling hands hovered midair as if he didn’t want to be close to them, knuckles busted from the force with which he had hit his little brother. Deep red droplets rolled down his fingers and dripped onto the ground, but he didn’t react. It felt like his brain was full of static, the loud buzzing in his ears making it hard to hear his own thoughts. He only had the one anyway, repeating like a mantra in his head: I hurt Mikey. I hurt Mikey. I hurt Mikey. I hurt Mikey.
Donnie and Leo moved to lift their injured brother, Leo giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder first. Finally mustering the strength to say a few words, Raph wheezed out an offer. “I-I… I can ca-carry him…” The other two turtles exchanged a glance before Donnie became very interested in the ground to his left.
“I, uh, don’t think that’s a good idea, big guy… you’re injured too, don’t want to risk either of you getting worse, huh?” Leo offered, his voice strained as he addressed Raph. The snapping turtle nodded slowly, his gaze not moving from Mikey’s small, trembling form. All three of them knew the real reason was because they didn’t want their youngest brother’s attacker anywhere near him. He couldn’t even blame them, as desperately as he wanted to rush to Mikey and scoop him into his arms, an equally large part of him never wanted to be near enough to touch him again.
“Leo,” Donnie said firmly, the panic in his voice just nearly hidden. “I said now.” Leonardo didn’t bother a nod this time, simply slipping one arm behind Mikey’s back and the other under one of his legs. Donnie did the same, and together they lifted Mikey into the air with a weakened wail of agony. His blood splashed against the ground, running down the legs of the two carrying him. They did their best to ignore it. It made Raph feel sick.
Stumbling as fast as they could towards the turtle tank, they lay the young turtle down on one of the seats, Donnie immediately turning to the controls while Leo crouched next to Mikey, cupping his face in one three fingered hand and gently murmuring reassurance, as much to his brother as to himself. “Shhh, shhh, it’s gonna be ok, it’s all gonna be ok, Mike, just breathe buddy.”
As soothing as the red-eared slider’s voice was, Michelangelo’s breathing remained a shallow, strained gasp. His eyes were unfocused and glossy; Leo wondered if he even knew where he was. His limbs twitched and spasmed feebly, and his older brother moved his hands towards the hole in his stomach, clasping over it as firmly as he could as if it would hold his blood inside. It trickled out from between Leo’s fingers. Shards of the broken shell sliced at his hands as he pressed his palms against them, ignoring the pain.
With considerable effort, Raphael managed to get his paralyzed legs to move, stumbling after his brothers if only to not let Mikey out of his sight. He hesitated in front of the tank entrance, feeling almost as if he wasn’t allowed on board. He shouldn’t be allowed on board, after what he had just done. But every moment spent making up his mind was another moment Mikey wasn’t getting the care he needed, so he loaded himself onto the tank.
As they sped down the back streets of New York at a speed that surely would have gotten them arrested if any of the cops had been paying attention, the only sounds in the turtle tank were Mikey’s labored gasping and the hitching breath of all of his brothers as all three of them tried to be a good big brother and hide their sobs. Each of their thoughts were so loud, the only reason the others couldn’t hear them was because the volume of their own drowned everything else out.
Well, almost everything. A few minutes into the ride, Leo’s quiet voice raised slightly, taking on a slightly firmer tone.
“Mikey. Mikey, you gotta keep your eyes open. Mikey?” He shook his brother gently. His eyes didn’t open. “Mikey! I know you’re tired, but just hold out a little longer, ok? Don’t fall asleep. Mikey!” Leo’s voice grew more and more desperate with each word.
Mikey didn’t respond.