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"Holy Chalupa!"
It was early, six in the morning to be exact, when the shriek could be heard from the bathroom of their home.
Mikey stood in front of the mirror, his hands hovering nervously around his face and head, both covered in hair.
Hair.
Mikey couldn't believe his eyes. There was a stubble on his chin that crawled up to his cheekbones- and his head-
He looked like something straight out of a horror movie, face shielded under a veil of black hair, faintly illuminated by the weak lightbulb in the bathroom.
He uttered another shout and leaned forward to stare closer at this reflection. What the hell was going on? His hands went to grasp at the sink, fingers gripping the porcelain so hard his knuckles whitened.
He had hair.
Which was incredibly strange because yesterday, like any other night when he'd gone to bed, he had been bald.
Not sparing another second to look at himself, the wizard-in-training darted out of the bathroom toward the living room, where he was sure his father would be passed out on his recliner.
Why was he seeking out Splinter? Simple. He was the only one out of the family of five who had any prior experience with hair.
He slid around the corner and grasped onto the side of the doorway, nearly tripping over his feet because he couldn't see them because he had hair now, apparently, and the dark locks were blocking his vision.
"Dad!"
The rat on the couch startled awake with a snort, bleary eyes blinking open with surprise. Mikey reached up to part the curtain of hair from his face so he could actually see where he was walking and approached his father.
"Dad," he repeated and went to stand in front of his father. His breathing was coming out in short breaths now, and he could feel himself starting to panic. "Ya gotta help me, pops."
"Michelangelo, aren't you a little old to be-"
Splinter blinked, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head before blinking them open again. He stared up at his youngest son, mouth dropping open into a gape.
"What have you done with your hair?"
Mikey couldn't hold back the nervous wheeze, gesturing widely around his head as he wailed.
"My hair!?" The turtle fell to his knees in front of his father so they could be at an equal height, and he reached forward to grab his shoulders, "Dad, I don't have hair! Or- I didn't use to!"
"Right," Splinter nodded, his sleepy brain trying to catch up. His son was in distress. The hands grasping his shoulders shook, and Splinter reached out with his own to pull his son's hair aside so he could look at his face. He smoothed his thumb over Mikey's freckled cheek, and the familiar gesture seemed to calm him.
"How did this happen?"
"I have no idea! I- I-" Mikey swallowed thickly around the ball of emotion in his throat, he thought back to the image of himself in the mirror, and his face contorted into a sad frown, "It's so different. I couldn't look at myself- it's..."
The young man couldn't express his thoughts, but Splinter understood he must feel conflicted about the sudden change in his appearance. He could sympathise with why Mikey might feel a distaste for it, but he himself couldn't help but soften.
"It is just as mine used to be," he said soothingly, one hand staying comfortingly on Mikey's cheek while the other reached out to stroke the dark strands of hair. Splinter smiled warmly as he recalled his younger years as a human.
"I never thought I'd see myself in any of you, not physically, but this," he indicated to the source of Mikey's distress, "You look exactly like I did when I was your age."
Mikey's frown turned upside down, splitting into a grin.
"Really? But I'm green and don't have a nose or anything."
Splinter laughed, hearty and resounding, and he leaned back in the chair and clutched at his stomach.
"Perhaps not exactly," he said between laughs, and he was pleased to find Mikey completely relaxed where he sat, "But I still remember it fondly."
"If you remember... Could you help me cut it?"
"Of course, my son," Splinter nodded, hiding his disappointment effortlessly as he adjusted himself to hop off the recliner, "If that is what you want, I will help you."
Before he could get up, a hand grabbed his wrist to stop him.
"I don't... we don't have to cut all of it," Mikey reasoned. He glanced to the side, and his cheeks grew red with an embarrassed blush, "I just wanna be able to see, you know? And my chin is kinda itchy... but it would be pretty rad to look like Lou Jitsu. To look like you, I mean."
Splinter looked at his son, his heart squeezing at the sentiment.
"I'll see what I can do."
Donnie had been awake to hear the scream, still up working on his latest project. He hadn't been too alarmed. Mikey always woke up early to cook breakfast for the entire family and had always been a loudmouth. Even at twenty years old, that fact had been unwavering when it came to the youngest.
Nevertheless, Donnie had stretched his arms in front of him and rolled back his chair with a push of his legs. He'd wanted to get up to get coffee, anyway. He could check on Mikey on the way.
What did alarm him, however, was noticing that his brother was neither in his room nor the kitchen. Donnie's first hypothesis had been that Mikey had woken from a nightmare, stubbed his toe on the way to the kitchen, or perhaps injured himself while preparing breakfast. But realising none of those to be possible with the current information, he found himself searching through their home, about as curious as he was worried.
With a fresh cup of coffee in his hand—because as much as he loved Mikey, he really really loved his caffeine—Donnie walked through his home, looking for his brother.
He'd checked Leo and Raph's rooms on the off-chance that Mikey had gone to wake one of them up, but both brothers were still sleeping soundly, and Mikey was nowhere in sight. Interestingly enough, the light in their shared bathroom was on, and it was just enough of a sprinkle of information to motivate Donnie to try to solve the mystery.
Nearing the living room, he finally found something interesting, or rather he'd heard something interesting. Splinter and Mikey were talking in hushed voices.
Donnie frowned. Mikey had been distressed and had gone to their father for help?
He stopped walking, not wanting to get too close and hear a conversation that was meant to be private. Because if Mikey had gone to their dad, then it must be about something none of the brothers could help with.
Because as much as they all loved their dad, they always sought out help within their group of siblings. When one of them went to their dad for advice, it was most likely more personal.
So Donnie hesitantly went back to his lab, tearing himself away from the intrusive thoughts that wanted him to go and listen in on the conversation. Why had Mikey screamed? Why had he gone to their father instead of one of his brothers? Donnie's brain craved to know the answers to these questions, but he willed himself to respect Mikey's privacy.
When he was younger, boundaries like that had been hard to come to terms with, but with the help of his patient and understanding family, he'd matured a lot over the years.
Though, as luck would have it, Donnie's childish wishes to instantly know all of the answers came to fruition only half an hour later when Splinter and a hesitant Mikey stood at the entrance to his lab.
"What can I do for you two fine gentlemen?"
Donnie, who had sensed them rather than seen them walk in, swivelled around in his chair to face his latest fascination.
Needless to say, out of all possibilities, Donnie could have never fathomed what stood before him.
Mikey, shy and hesitant behind Splinter's small back, waved awkwardly once Donnie made eye contact with him. Donnie barely noticed it, too transfixed on the head of hair his little brother had attained.
"I have never wanted to ask so many questions in my life," Donnie said bluntly, standing up from his chair so fast that it rolled across the floor, "And that is saying a lot, since as you know- Mikey- what-"
The soft-shelled turtle interrupted himself as he spoke, words and sentences tumbling over each other as he tried to formulate a question. He stalked up to Mikey with long strides and walked around him in a circle to inspect him.
"Interesting," he uttered, reaching out to tug at a strand of dark hair.
"Ouch! Why'd you do that?"
"So, not a wig," Donnie concluded, stopping his pacing and rubbing his chin with his thumb as he thought over the potentials. "What in the world could have caused this? What did you do?"
"We were hoping you could help us find the answers," Splinter—who Donnie had forgotten about—said, and oh if that wasn't exhilarating to hear.
"Excellent. Why don't you have a seat, dear brother?" Donnie gestured to his desk before sauntering off to find the various things he'd need to run tests.
Mikey shifted on the cool surface of Donnie's metal desk, doing his best to avoid bumping any of the materials he shared the space with.
"Tell me, Angelo," Donnie said as he walked up to him, pulling a rolling trey table littered with various equipment with him as he went. "How long has your... hair... been growing out?"
"No, it- this just happened overnight. At least, that's what I think? I'm pretty sure we would have noticed."
"Yes, which only makes this all the more intriguing," Donnie said and picked up a pair of tweezers. When both Mikey and Splinter eyed the object questioningly, Donnie sighed, "Relax. It's not like I'm going to cut you open. I couldn't care less about your inner anatomy at the moment. I just want to take some samples."
"That's fine, but really-"
"Spit into this," Donnie interrupted and pushed a small plastic tube into Mikey's hands.
"Okay, Dee. But maybe we could just talk- ow! Stop that!"
Mikey rubbed the back of his head where Donnie had plucked a strand of hair, pouting at the onslaught.
"Maybe you should be more delicate about this," Splinter remarked, but Donnie ignored him as he carried the strand of hair in the tweezers over to his microscope.
"This is fascinating," Donnie murmured as he hunched over the instrument and examined the strand of hair.
After spitting into the tube and putting the small cap on it, Mikey hopped off the table and bounced curiously over to where Donnie stood.
"Whatcha find, Don?"
"Mystic energy," the older supplied curtly, "I didn't even have to extract your genetic code to see it... the energy is visible on a cellular level."
He stood back up, looking contemplative.
"I still want to compare it to your DNA, but this pretty much confirms my theory," Donnie looked at Mikey, who was eyeing the microscope, "You can take a look. Did you provide the saliva sample?"
"Yes Donnie, I spit in your little tube thingy. It's on the table over there," Mikey waved dismissively, diving to look into the microscope. He peered into the eyepiece and was met with the slightly disturbing view of a magnified version of his hair.
It resembled a coarse thread of sorts, yet it looked slightly scaley. Mikey's artistic mind tried to wrap around the sight when something much more interesting caught his attention. A shimmer, golden like his magic, flickering lightly over the strand like it was coated in a sheen of mystic energy.
"That's trippy. Is it supposed to shine like that?"
"No. This hair growth of yours is definitely a byproduct of your use of the mystic arts."
That made Mikey draw away from the microscope, turning to watch his brother, who was now tapping something into his computer.
"But I've been doing that stuff since I was, like, sixteen."
Donnie raised a drawn-on eyebrow at him, "Think, Mikey. Sure, you've used your magic from time to time for the last five years, but when did you begin to truly practice it?"
Splinter snapped his fingers as he realised, gaining the attention of his sons.
"You started your wizardly training with Draxum when you turned twenty barely a month ago!"
"Exactly. You've never used your powers as much as you have in the last few weeks," Donnie sauntered over to Mikey, inspecting him once more, "Have you been focusing on anything in particular in your training? Something along the lines of 'becoming one' with your powers?"
Mikey's eyes widened, impressed at his brother's deductive skills.
"Yes! We've been doing a lot of meditation and soul-searching, which is hella boring, by the way, but Baron insists it is important."
"By the looks of it, it's working," Donnie laid a hand on Mikey's shoulder and smiled down at him. Mikey felt his heart swell pleasantly at the pride mirrored in his older brother's eyes. "You look good, by the way. Like dad in his movies."
Mikey smiled and ran a hand through the hair. He was quite pleased with how it had turned out and was not disappointed by his father's skills.
Before he could properly thank Donnie for the compliment, a loud crash sounded from the hallway, and the three of them looked to see a startled Leo with a now shattered mug by his feet.
The slider gaped and pointed at Mikey, eyes wide as saucers.
"What the fuck!?"
"So."
Raph took a deep breath through his nose, pursing his lips and frowning deeply as he observed the two youngest brothers sitting across from him at the dining table.
"Mikey has hair now."
Donnie and Mikey nodded simultaneously, and Donnie confirmed for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.
"Yes."
"Okay," Raph nodded, features smoothing over, and for a second, Donnie thought the endless loop had been severed, only to see Raph's questioning gaze return. "But why?"
"We've been over this, Raph," Donnie groaned and took a big gulp of his coffee.
"I know, but I just can't wrap my head around it!"
"It's magic, bro! You can't explain this stuff," Mikey grinned. Since they'd left the lab, he hadn't stopped playing with the hair, and a finger was currently twirling through a bundle of locks near his nape.
"Trust me, I'm not ecstatic about the explanation simply being 'it's magic', but that's, unfortunately, the complete truth in this instance," Donnie waved his mug in the air as he talked, uncaring as some of the coffee trickled down the side of it. "Although we should take into account that we all have human DNA, and the likeness of Mikey's hair to dad's human hair shouldn't go unnoticed-"
"Who cares why it happened," Leo exclaimed beside Raph. "Mikey has hair. This is newsworthy stuff! I'm talking headlines, broadcasted live over all seven continents, shout it from the rooftops, what have you. Everyone needs to know!"
"Don't tell April," Mikey ordered with a glare. He'd repeatedly told Leo not to take any pictures or text anyone about it. Eventually, Raph had confiscated his phone entirely.
"Oh, so I can tell Casey? And Junior?"
"Stop it, Leo," Raph scolded, "Let him tell people at his own pace."
"God, you're making it sound like I'm coming out or something," Mikey drawled, rolling his eyes, "I already did that years ago."
"Miguel," Leo said with a shit-eating grin, reaching out his hand and touching Mikey's arm in a show of mock comfort, "I want you to know that we all love and support you. Hair or no hair."
"Okay, I'm leaving."
Mikey stood, wooden chair scraping against the tile. He crossed his arms and pouted as he made his way out of the kitchen but smiled secretly once his back was toward the room. He heard Raph berate Leo further as the leader continued to yell jokes after Mikey. Donnie loudly sipped his coffee as he watched the scene play out.
"Bald or not, we still love you, Mikey!"
"Stop it!" Raph hissed.
Mikey couldn't hold back his laugh as he walked down the hall toward his room, and later, the reflection in his mirror didn't scare him as much as it had earlier that morning.