Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mikey’s favourite weather was easily fog. Something about the way it pressed in, the way that it consumed everything. Eating light like some great beast, the way it seemed to curl around him, isolating him until he felt safe and at peace. It was like a blanket around him as he walked through the fog laden streets. This was the one time he could meander the streets as he pleased without worry that someone would spot him. Sure the city knew of him and his brothers now, he was fine to walk among the humans. But it didn’t stop the looks, the whispers. It didn’t matter to Mikey if they were whispers of admiration or not, he didn’t like it. He wanted to go back to when they were heroes in the shadows, not so public with their work. But the others didn’t see it like that. Raph and Leo didn’t mind the public eye, hell Leo flourished in it, he had changed so much, he was like a flower seeing the sun for the first time. Donnie’s tech was being recognized for it's quality and he was finally able to sell it.

Mikey couldn’t take that from his brothers. So, he didn’t tell them that going in public made his skin crawl, that walking down the street made him feel like he was choking. He turned abruptly, ducking down an alleyway and tugging his backpack closer to himself, cringing at the way the cans inside clanged against one another. Looking around, trying to see through the thick fog, listening for something, he waited. And then he heard it. A loud caw from above. A grin spread across his face and he scaled up the fire escape, moving quickly and as silently as possible on the rusty, rickety stairs and railings. At the top he looked up, taking his backpack off and hucking it up at the roof. It disappeared over the edge with a clatter, and then a bird’s black head popped out from the ledge. Mikey grinned at it, laughing silently as he scaled the side of the building with ease. He pulled himself up over the edge, rolling onto the gravel laid on the roof. The rocks dug into his skin as he pulled himself back up, brushing them off.

There, sitting on his backpack was a large crow. Raven? Donnie would know what it was, but Mikey didn’t think it mattered, all he knew was this guy was huge. It cawed loudly and looked at his backpack almost expectantly. Mikey shooed it off the canvas, and unzipped the orange backpack, and pulled out what the bird was no doubt waiting for. Fries. Mikey tossed one to the bird, who caught it expertly in its beak before scarfing it down. Laughing, Mikey tossed another before scattering the fries on the roof for the bird, stuffing the red and yellow carton back in his backpack and walking to what he was really there for.

An empty billboard.

He’d been scoping it out for months, watching it carefully. Nobody had filled it, it was entirely untouched. No advertisements, no graffiti. Mikey had wanted to use it for ages, and he finally had the time to. No missions, no emergency therapy for his brothers. He had five minutes to himself and he was going to damn well use it. Dumping out the half empty spray paint cans, Mikey looked for his chalk. Grabbing a broken piece of orange chalk, he pulled himself up onto the edge of the billboard. He began sketching out the idea. He’d drawn it time and time again in his piece book, it was muscle memory now. He’d always wanted to do this design somewhere outside the lair, and now he finally had the chance. He began to sketch out the design, jumping up to reach the higher spots. Wiping away a mistake, and leaning back to look at his work, he kept at it until the fog began to lift and the sun began to rise. He hopped down and stood back, looking at his handiwork. It was perfect. The sketch outlined four turtle shells, a rat above them, and a baseball bat below them. He wasn’t even close to done, this would take him ages, but he was finally excited for the first time in months. They weren’t facing death at every turn and he could actually see himself being able to finish it. Mikey hid his paint cans and spare tips behind the water tower, grabbing his bag and zipping it closed. The crow had stayed, watching him work from its spot on the roof, and was eating the last fry as Mikey walked by.

“See you tomorrow.” Mikey said affectionately, crouching in front of the crow. The crow hopped closer and shook its tail, fanning it out and squawking, tilting its head at Mikey before walking away to the edge of the building. Mikey watched it hop onto the lip of the building before shaking its wings out and taking off, flying between the run-down apartment buildings.

Sighing, he walked to the edge of the building and began scaling down the fire escape. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. Looking around, he tried to see if he could spot anything, but when his search revealed nothing, he still felt it. The eyes were like lasers trained on him but he couldn’t find anyone. He stopped when he got to the ground again, turning as his heart rate increased. Whatever it was he needed to find it. Taking a moment, he took a breath, calming his heart so he could focus. Closing his eyes, he listened, trying to tune out the noises. There was an electrical buzz above him, the sounds of the city in the distance. But that’s not what he was looking for. Opening his eyes, he trained his gaze on the end of the alleyway, garbage cans and bags of trash stacked high. Scanning them he still found nothing. He must be crazy. There was no other explanation. He’d been having trouble as of late, it must’ve been that, nothing else.

Even still, he was quick as he pulled up the manhole cover and slipped under into the sewer. His feet hit the concrete floor and he looked around, panic consuming him, heart and lungs kicking into high gear. He broke out into a run, knowing exactly where to go, he knew these sewers like the back of his hand. As he approached the lair, the feeling began to intensify, until he was sprinting, his lungs working overtime as he hyperventilated. Bursting into the lair, he scrambled into the common area, tugging at his hoodie. It was too close to his throat, he was going to suffocate, he knew it. Pulling it off hastily, he dug his nails into his palms.

“Leo! Get back here!” Mikey heard Raph yell as Leo walked into the common area, past Mikey and flopping onto the couch.

“Chill out Raph, it’s not a big deal!” Leo said dismissively, lounging on the couch. Mikey’s panic immediately shoved itself down into his stomach, followed by the all too familiar premonition. Mikey was at the door before Raph was, meeting him there as it slammed open.

“It is Leo! You need to take some responsibility for once!” Raph yelled. Mikey slid between them, pushing Raph back as Leo scoffed.

“Last I checked-”

“Hey! Raph I need your help, c’mon!” Mikey tried, voice upbeat as he grinned up at Raph, it was his old standby, it almost always worked. Almost.

“Later.” Raph snarled, shoving forward past Mikey.

“Raph please-”

“Stay out of it!” Raph snapped at Mikey, turning to his younger brother. The words stung, but Mikey bit back the tears. It was just the anger, Raph wasn’t really mad at him, he was angry because of the fight.

“Raph c’monnnn,” Mikey said more insistently, grabbing Raph’s balled up fist and physically pulling him out of the room and away from Leo. Raph’s anger had grown more vicious, and far more venomous since the Kraang. Mikey couldn’t blame him. Wouldn’t blame him. Mikey led him out of the room, into the kitchen.

“He just… I’m just- I don’t know what-” Raph trailed off, grunting in frustration and slamming his fist on the counter as the door shut behind them.

“I know big guy, I know. Grab that for me?” Mikey asked, opening a cabinet and pointing up at a random item. He didn’t even bother to check what it was. He just wanted to keep Raph busy. Raph pulled it down and handed the bottle to Mikey. Mikey could’ve easily gotten onto the counter and grabbed it himself, but it was better if Raph had something to do. Mikey grabbed a few other things that would work with the spice Raph had grabbed down for him. “Wanna help me with breakfast?” Mikey asked, looking over his shoulder as he turned the stove on.

“Sure.” Raph said, rubbing the bridge between his brows.

Mikey filled the silence with random chatter, putting on the biggest smile he could muster and trying to put that morning out of his mind. Truthfully the cooking helped him too, it was his reprieve just as much as art was. He had Raph taste test everything, and it seemed to be helping his mood. Since the Kraang his anger had grown worse, more unruly, more venomous. Mikey had no doubt he’d been repressing it and was only now unable to continue hiding it from his brothers. Mikey had always been the buffer between Raph’s anger and their other brothers, had always been the one between Raph and Leo as they argued for the umpteenth time. Mikey dished up Raph’s and handed it to him. Raph elected to eat in the kitchen as Mikey brought Leo his plate and then put Donnie’s into his favourite bowl. Donnie had rituals, especially with food, and he liked to eat out of a bowl whenever possible, taking it further into the lair to bring to his brother.

Mikey wandered into Donnie’s lab, bowl in hand and found him where he always found his brother. Working on something at his unbelievably messy desk. Donnie was meticulous about most things, but his desk was always a disaster. Even when it was ‘clean’ it was a mess. Mikey replaced the empty bowl on his desk for the new one, peering over Donnie’s shoulder.

“What’cha workin’ on?” Mikey asked, looking at the array before Donnie.

“Reinforced battle shell.” Donnie replied, voice flat and monotone. But Mikey knew why he was making it. His mind replayed the crack of Donnie’s battle shell during the Kraang fight, the look of terror on his face. Remembering his own fear in that moment. Mikey was honestly glad he was making a new one.

“...Don?”

“Yeah?”

“I was out last night, in the city, I was doing something but… when I came back I felt? I don’t know, I felt like someone was watching me.” Mikey said, shrugging. “What d’you think?”

“That’s not likely, come on Angelo, think about it.” Donnie said, shrugging as he looked away from his work briefly. “Big Mama’s been dormant, doing whatever she does in the Undercity, you reformed Draxum yourself, the Shredder’s been defeated, and we got rid of the Kraang. It’s probably just anxiety.” Donnie rationalized, counting off on his fingers as he listed them all. “There’s nobody left.”

“Yeah… Yeah it must be anxiety, there’s no way.” Mikey nodded, taking a breath. That had to be it, the stress of everything must’ve gotten to him. They’d been running from some huge villain for so long now that it was weird to be free of that. He had no reason to fear anymore. It was just anxiety. “Thanks Donnie.”

“Anytime,” Donnie replied, still looking at his work but reaching over and rubbing Mikey’s head affectionately. Mikey took a breath and stepped away, going back to the kitchen. He wasn’t even hungry anymore, the anxiety forming a pit in his gut that sat heavily. Grabbing a plate for Splinter, and grabbing his backpack as he walked through the common area, he found his dad in the same spot he usually was. Mikey handed him the plate and sat beside the chair, leaning against it.

“Thank you son.”

“No problem,” Mikey mumbled, pulling his sketchbook from his backpack, along with a pencil. Flipping it open he found the first empty page and began sketching mindlessly.

“Are you not eating as well?” Splinter asked, leaning over the arm of the chair and looking at the page.

“Not hungry.” Mikey said, shaking his head.

“Alright. Where were you last night?” Splinter asked, still looking at the page curiously as Mikey’s sketches began to transform into a picture.

“I found this billboard a few months ago, I started a project on it,” Mikey said, a genuine smile crossing his face as he talked about it.

“What are you painting on it?” Splinter asked, Mikey knew he didn’t really understand his street art, but he was trying. That was more than he had done in previous years. It was all Mikey had ever wanted from his dad. Mikey flipped the pages back, to the final draft of the mock up, turning the book on it's side to show him the full scope. It was hastily coloured in, and messily sketched. But it was the best version he had available. Splinter grinned and took the book, looking at the image intently. “This is beautiful. You’ll have to take me to see it when you’re done,” he praised, handing the book back to Mikey.

“Thanks dad, I will, I promise.” He said, flipping back to the page he’d been working on.

It was nice, finally getting that type of recognition from his dad. He could see that Splinter was trying for them, now. Before everything, he’d always felt like his art was ignored or seen as a waste of time even. But now, finally, it felt like someone actually saw it.

Things were finally falling into place. Or to Mikey it's what it felt like, at least, and that was good enough for him. Maybe their family could heal after all.

Chapter Text

This was… not how Mikey thought his day was going to go. Mikey wasn’t someone that needed to know everything, but he liked predictability. This was not predictable. Had he been asked what the most outlandish part of his day would be, he might’ve said he could believe he’d be getting lectured. But not by a bird.

“How could you forget? You never forget!” The crow in front of him squawked, its beak moving with the words. It's (his?) voice was deep and raspy, a thick northern Jersey accent in its voice. The crow sputtered and ranted, short sentence fragments spewing from its beak rapidly. It sounded like a smoker’s voice with how hoarse it was, Mikey was expecting every sentence to be punctuated by a cough.

“I’m sorry?” Mikey said, still completely lost. He was a little hung up on the fact that the bird he’d been mindlessly chattering to for months could talk. Apparently when he got going, he really got going.

“Damn right ya better be sorry! I came all the way out here to listen to yous, on the condition that I get food!” The bird crowed loudly. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean it, you’re a good kid ya know? You got a lot of talent and whatever, I’m just hungry.” The bird sighed. Mikey didn’t even know birds could sigh.

“How are you doing this?!” Mikey asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he crouched down to the crow’s level and tilted his head at it. The bird cackled, a loud cacophonous noise that grated against Mikey’s ears. It was like a man guffawing and a bird screeching all at once.

“What’dya mean?”

“The talking!”

“Same way you’re talkin’!” The crow huffed, shaking out its feathers in irritation. “I’m a mutant or whatever the hell you call us.”

“You… don’t look like a mutant though?” Mikey said, face scrunching up as he scrutinized the black bird.

“And you don’t look like an artist.” The bird scoffed, turning it's beak up at Mikey.

“Sorry, this is just weird. Don’t you have a name?”

“No. Didn’t have one before the mutation, don’t have one now.” The bird said, visibly relaxing. It hopped over to the open canvas backpack, shoving his face inside and looking around. Apparently still holding out hope for some scraps. “You got a granola bar or somethin’ in here?”

“You need a name…” Mikey trailed off, not really hearing the bird. “How about Robert? You seem like a Robert.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever kid, I don’t care. I want food.”

“Oh! Yeah, that” Mikey said. He stood up, brushing the gravel off of himself and walking over to the bag. He lifted it, Robert squawking in shock and tumbling into the bag as it was lifted. He righted himself and sent a glare at Mikey, hopping up onto the turtle’s arm and climbing up to his shoulder as Mikey rifled through the bag, feeling around for something. Finding what he was looking for he pulled it out. A granola bar, wrapped in green plastic with big yellow letters. “I hate these things, do you like ‘em?” Mikey asked, showing it to Robert as he dropped the bag.

“Kid. I eat out of garbage cans. Now gimme.” The crow badgered impatiently. Mikey giggled, opening the package and breaking off the corner, holding it out to the bird. Robert took it quickly, accidentally pecking Mikey’s fingers in the process.

“Ow!” Mikey protested, scooping up the bird and setting him on the roof. He broke the bar into smaller pieces and scattered them on the ground, watching Robert hop around, picking up the pieces and throwing them back into his mouth. It was kind of hilarious. Giving it a minute, he turned and walked to the billboard, looking at the sketch he’d thrown up the previous night. Crouching down behind one of the posts of the billboard, he grabbed the gray can, and switched the nozzle, pressing the new cap on. Backing up, he pulled himself onto the ledge of the billboard. Getting to work he painted the basic blobs of colour, filling in the outlines he’d drawn previously. After a few minutes, Robert perched on the corner, watching him paint. For the first time since he got to the roof, he was silent, seemingly content to just watch. Mikey spent the time mumbling and talking to Robert, at what seemed like warp speed.

“I mean like what do they expect me to do?” He muttered, looking up at the bird, who nodded and turned back to the art. Mikey sighed and hopped down, grabbing another can of paint, this one blue. He clambered back up, throwing down the colour onto the board. “It keeps getting worse, how am I supposed to keep up with them?” Mikey exclaimed as he painted. “I don’t know how to fix it anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t.” Robert said, looking at Mikey intensely. Mikey recoiled from the eye contact, focusing on the billboard again.

“What’dyou mean?”

“Maybe it can’t be fixed. Maybe you shouldn’t fix it.”

“But they’re my brothers-”

“Which is why ya can’t fix it. Not everything can be fixed. That’s okay.”

“If I can’t fix it then what can I do?” Mikey protested, throwing the spray can down petulantly.

“Let them solve it.” Robert said. Mikey shook his head. He remembered the last time he’d left things alone to ‘resolve themselves’. And it ruined everything. It had been years ago by now, and he and Raph still weren’t back to the way they used to be. Mikey was not about to let that happen again. Heaving a sign, Mikey jumped down and grabbed the paint can, looking at it and then the unfinished graffiti. The flats for the blue shell and the rat above were almost done, but he couldn’t shake the unease he felt looking at it.

Maybe he shouldn’t finish it.

On the other hand, he’d been dying to paint this for ages. He shoved the anxiety away, shaking his head and climbing back up.

He didn’t leave until the sun began to poke up through the buildings on the horizon, bathing everything in a warm orange light. Hopping down from the billboard one last time, he said his goodbyes to Robert, and headed back down the fire escape. In the alleyway he felt eyes on him again. About to brush it off as paranoia, he began walking to the manhole in the road. Until he heard it. Metallic scraping, loud and uncomfortable. Whipping around he looked down the alleyway, trying to find the source. But once more, he saw nothing.

Mikey could feel that distinct panic grip his throat, squeezing his neck like it was trying to strangle him. A lump formed in his throat, burning hot like it was a lit coal, paralyzing him as he willed his limbs to move. He heard it again, his stomach twisting into knots as his mind ran wild with what it could possibly be. He half expected to feel Donnie or Raph’s hand grab his own and rug him to safety. But there was nobody to help him. His mind went from a complete stop to running a mile a minute. Ducking away, out of the alleyway he ran for the manhole cover, his only thought getting away from whatever was clearly watching him. Looking behind him as he ran, he screamed as he heard a car horn, and looked to his right, seeing a car, a man behind the wheel cursing at him and flipping him off before driving away as Mikey backed away from the car. Mikey moved the manhole cover hastily, descending into the sewer and barely thinking to replace the cover before he dropped into the sewer pipes and began sprinting. Running like his life was depending on it, Mikey could only hear his own blood whooshing past his ears, deafening him.

He burst into the lair, breathing heavily and choking down a frantic sob. All he could imagine was the Kraang, the Shredder, even the Foot clan. How many people had been after them for so long? He couldn’t even count them all, it was a blur. All he knew was he obviously wasn’t safe outside the lair.

“Calmate hermano, what happened to you? See a ghost again or something?” Leo asked from his spot lounging on the couch, turning his phone off and setting it down beside himself.

“I-“ Mikey huffed, doubling over to catch his breath. “I don’t know, but something-“ Mikey took another breath, swiping at his eyes. “Something was watching me.”

“How do you know?” Donnie interjected from his spot on the couch, looking away from his phone.

“I heard like this weird metallic scratching? I don’t know how to describe it but it came from the alleyway so I couldn’t see what it was and I-“

“Mikey, it sounds like it was just a raccoon in a garbage can or something.” Leo said, frowning at Mikey.

“No, no it wasn’t, I know it wasn’t, I felt it.”

“Felt what Angelo?” Donnie asked, exchanging a look with Leo.

“Don’t do that!” Mikey exclaimed, frustration boiling over.

“Do what?” Leo asked.

“Look at each other like I’m going crazy!”

“We weren’t-“

“You know what you were doing! You don’t believe me do you?” Mikey said, voice quivering more than he wanted it to.

“…I believe that you heard something. I don’t believe it was someone watching you. I agree with Leo. It was probably a rat or a possum or something.” Donnie said, shrugging. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not imagining it!” Mikey yelled, storming out of the room, walking briskly past a very confused Raph in the process.

“That was weird right? That’s not just me thinking that that was weird?” Leo asked, laughing nervously.

“No, that was definitely weird. And not the usual Mikey weird. Weird weird.” Donnie answered.

“You guys know what that was about?” Raph asked, looking behind himself as he walked in, promptly bumping into the door frame on his way in.

“Mikey’s wigging out, he’s all jumpy and shit.” Leo said, shrugging and turning to his phone.

“It’s probably just anxiety,” Donnie rationalized, shrugging.

After spending the majority of his day tucked away in his room, Mikey left the lair again that night, muttering to himself under his breath. He wasn’t going crazy. He was right, there had to be something watching him. There was no way, he knew what it was like to feel watched, knew what he heard. It couldn’t be a raccoon. Ducking through the sewers he reached the right street, popping up through the manhole cover. He looked both ways for a car before shoving the cover aside and climbing out, replacing the heavy cover back with a loud clatter.

This time he wouldn’t be caught unaware, he would prove to his brothers that it wasn’t just a raccoon. Pulling his phone out, he held his nunchucks in his free hand, opening the camera and hitting record on his phone he crept into the alleyway. He turned the flash on, using it as a flashlight, looking around. The sound of metal clattering came from his left and he whipped around, phone at the ready. There, sitting in the light, was a mutant silverfish, hanging onto the side of a garbage can, its beady red eyes shining in the light. It skittered away, an empty wrapper hanging out of its mouth as it ran.

“What?!” Mikey exclaimed, turning off his phone and putting it into his hoodie pocket. “Aw come on man, I was so sure it wasn’t.” Mikey kicked at the ground in frustration. He knew what he had heard, but here, the proof against him was blatant. Maybe he was just imagining it.

Oh god.

Leo and Donnie were right. They’d never let him hear the end of it if they found out. Mikey groaned and walked back to the fire escape, hopping up and clambering up the rusted metal stairs.

Like always, he took off his backpack and hucked it over the edge of the roof, heaving it onto the gravel. He heard it land, and waited, looking up at the roof. No bird popped its head out from the roof, there was no inviting squawk. Just silence. Mikey frowned and ignored the apprehension in his gut, leaping up and grabbing the edge of the roof, pulling himself up with more caution than usual. There, standing in front of the billboard was a hooded figure, with a metallic clawed hand that glinted in the light, wrapped around the throat of a very familiar large black bird. Robert struggled in their hand, scratching and trying to peck and screech, to no avail.

This had to be the person who was watching him.

They looked vaguely familiar, their red and white mask setting off every alarm bell in Mikey’s head at once. Where had he seen them before?

He didn’t get the chance to think further about it, the figure dropped Robert onto the ground harshly, ignoring him as he coughed and hacked like an old chainsmoker. As they approached, Mikey changed the grip on his weapon and widened his stance.

“You wouldn’t just happen to be admiring the art, would you?” Mikey asked, looking at them skeptically.

The figure didn’t respond, instead aiming a slash at Mikey, lashing out at him with their metallic talons. Mikey barely avoided the hit, backing away and yelping as he hit the ledge on the sides of the building. Steering himself he took a breath and ducked, rolling out of the way and towards the centre of the building. Looking up again he saw the figure running at him.

“Too slow!" Mikey laughed, sliding under the slash aimed for his head. He needed space, he needed to build up momentum, so he could make the big hits. But they were so laser focused on Mikey it wasn’t going to be easy. Mikey tried to make that space, dancing away from the claws as they kept aiming heavy slashes at him. Looking behind them, his eyes landed on the buildings beyond them. He needed to create distance, but there was no rule that he had to stay on just that one building. He had a whole city to play with. A grin plastered itself on his face, the spots on his arms beginning to glow a bright orange colour.

“Catch me if you can!” Mikey yelled, running towards the claws, and sliding under them at the right second, swiftly getting back to his feet as he ran to the edge of the building. He jumped off the ledge and dove down, not bothering to look back to see if he was being followed. He swung his nunchuck out, the weapon glowing a bright orange and the chain lengthening to wrap around a streetlight. Mikey hit the end of the chain and swung, grinning all the while. His feet barely missed the pavement, the chain retracting as he was launched into the air. Tucking himself into his shell, he hit the roof of another building, a couple of doors away. Popping out of his shell he hopped up, seeing how much distance he’d put between them.

They’d followed him, but were still below him on the roof of another building. The figure sprinted towards Mikey, clearly intending to scale the side of the building. Mikey wouldn’t let them get that far. He swung his nunchuk out again, the chain lengthening and wrapping around the figure, trapping them as Mikey swung down and drove all the force he could into his foot, hitting them in the gut. His foot met with a hard material, armour of some sort. They were pressed into the hard concrete of the roof, the material cracking slightly beneath the force. Mikey rolled away, the chains retracting again as he spun the weapon, building up momentum as he switched hands. As the figure got up he aimed a blow at them, but before the flail could make contact with their mask, their hand rose and caught the flail in their hand.

The figure pulled on it, hard, ripping it from Mikey’s grasp and tossing it over the side of the building.

“Hope that didn’t hit anyone.” Mikey muttered, watching his weapon go down. It was fine, he didn’t need a weapon. He could beat them just fine without one. Ducking around them, he tried to keep behind them, disorienting them and leading them around in circles.

Mikey aimed a kick at their back, recoiling when his foot met something hard under the cloak. It was familiar, curved slightly, segmented. A shell. They had a shell. Stunned, Mikey froze, staring at the masked figure as they turned.

“You’re like-“ a loud crack interrupted him as their metal hand made contact with his head. He could taste copper as his vision darkened around the edges, consuming it until he couldn’t see.

Chapter Text

“April!”

April would know that voice anywhere, she’d known the turtles far too long to not know their voices. Whipping around she looked for the source of the noise, confused as to why on earth Mikey would be calling for her while university students were milling about in a crowd. The turtles had mostly given up on hiding outside of missions, but Mikey was still careful. Following the voice, it kept calling her name, screaming and drawing attention. April could see other students looking around now too. The more she heard it, the more odd it sounded, it was definitely Mikey’s voice but there was a sharper edge to it, harsher than Mikey’s voice was. And it sounded panicked.

“Apriiiiilll!” The voice squawked, louder as she approached an alleyway. Ducking into the alley, she looked behind her to make sure nobody had followed her.

“Shut up you’re drawing too much attention Mikey,” she whispered, turning and expecting to see Mikey there. Instead was a large crow, just staring at her with its beady black eyes. “What? Mikey! Where are you?” She called, looking behind some garbage cans.

“Down here!” Another voice said, this one much different. It was raspy and had a thick accent, closer to an adult man’s and not anywhere near Mikey’s voice. April looked at the crow again, shoulders falling. “There you go,” the crow said, in that same voice.

“You have got to be kidding me.” April sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No time, you’re April O’Neil right?” The bird asked.

“I don’t even wanna know how you know that.” April said, crouching down to the bird's level. “How were you imitating Mikey’s voice?”

“Talent, but that’s actually why I was looking for you. It’s about Mikey.” The bird explained. “I didn’t know where to find his brothers, but he talked about you and your classes. He’s been kidnapped, they took him to the Hidden City.” The bird explained.

“Who’s ‘they’? You’re not giving much to go off of here.”

“I don’t know, that's sorta the problem.”

“How do I know you’re not just lying?”

“Why would I lie about this?”

“I dunno, but I still need proof.”

“Follow me,” The bird said, waddling further into the alleyway before leaping into the air and flapping it's wings. It led April out into the streets, flying slowly against the wind that weaved between the buildings, leading her towards a residential area. “I met Mikey while he was looking for a place to paint, and he gave me food. I sorta stuck around after that. He named me too.” The bird said as they ducked through another alleyway, looking back at April who was following a few feet behind. “He calls me Robert, I like it. I like him. He’s a good kid, which is why you need to find him. The bird explained, weaving between a clothesline hanging from a window. April was barely able to keep up, even as Robert slowed. Her lungs were practically screaming by the time the bird stopped. April held out her arm, the bird perching on top of it, his weight a bit too much for April. Shimmying to her shoulder, he settled beside her ear.

“Keep going down this street,” He said, ‘pointing’ with an outstretched wing. She followed his directions, walking down a street until they reached the mouth of an alleyway, where he stopped her.

Robert jumped off her shoulder, flying into the alleyway quickly. April heard the jangling of a chain, and when the bird came back, there in its beak was one of Mikey’s nunchuks. He landed in front of April as she knelt down, putting the weapon into her hands. She swore under her breath, frowning as she studied them. Definitely Mikey’s, there was no way they were anyone else’s.

“There’s more, follow,” The bird said, hopping up and flying down the street, stopping to wait for April on the corner. Leading her down the street, a couple apartments down the way, he ducked into an alleyway, perching himself on the rusted railing. “Up.” The bird said, flying to the top of the fire escape.

“You have gotta be kidding me,” April sighed, shoving the nunchuks into her bag and hoisting herself up. The fire escape creaked and protested under her weight, but she ignored the way it was groaning below her. Getting to the top, the bird moved to perch on the ledge of the building. April wiped the rust flakes off her hands, crouching before jumping, barely grabbing the edge of the building. Pulling herself up she rolled onto the roof, landing on the gravel with an almost comical thud. When she got up, she looked around taking in the sight. The gravel was displaced in several spots, suggesting some sort of scuffle, though in the turtles’ case it was likely a fight. The large billboard had unfinished art on it, spray cans below.

On the ground was an orange backpack that April recognized as Mikey’s. As she walked towards it, picking it up to find that it was covered in drawings and doodles that were undeniably the work of Michelangelo. Robert took off and April watched him fly a few buildings down, pick something up in his beak and bring it back. She offered her arm as a perch and he dropped the item in her free hand. Mikey’s phone. The bird climbed her arm, settling on her shoulder, watching as she looked at the screen. A spiderweb of cracks and chips that hadn’t been there before spread across the screen.

April bit the inside of her cheek, blinking rapidly. Shaking her head she shoved the phone into her pocket, turning quickly, sending the crow off balance.

“Thank you, I gotta to go.” She said, an edge of worry to her voice as Robert jumped down.

“Of course. Go get him.” The bird answered, hopping towards the backpack. April scrambled down the fire escape, pulling her own phone out and dialing a number rapidly.

“Commander O’Neil,”

“Casey, meet me at the lair.” April said quickly, breaking into a run for the nearest subway station.

“Why? What’s going on?” Casey asked, his voice edged with panic. April could hear him getting up and papers rustling.

“I don’t have time to explain right now, just get to the lair.” April said urgently, her voice insistent.

“You’ve got it,” Casey answered, hanging up.

Running down the steps of the subway station’s entrance, she weaved her way through the crowd, checking the train times above. She skidded to a stop, hopping from foot to foot. She needed to time this properly. A train rushed past, window billowing April’s jacket as people rushed out of the train, others rushing into it. The doors closed on her, and the people filed out of the subway station, leaving a very small audience. April walked to the side, the very edge of the station, hopping the fence and delving into the service tunnels, her shoes barely able to grip the concrete flooring as she ran. The tunnel narrowed, closing in on her, before opening into a giant cave. An abandoned subway station. Skidding around the corner she jumped down off the old platform onto the ground, following the tracks that were half buried in the dirt that covered the ground. Following the twists and turns she knew so well by now, she ran until she got to the entrance, ducking into the lair and panting heavily. Doubling over she struggled to catch her breath, her legs and lungs burning.

“Woah, what happened?” Donnie asked from his spot on the couch. “You being chased or something?”

“Go get Raph and Splints,” April said between deep breaths. “Now.” She insisted when Donnie just stared at her in disbelief. He scrambled to his feet quickly after that, leaving to go find them. April searched for Leo, finding him lounging in his room. She didn’t say anything, instead grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of his room and into the common room.

“What’s the rush April?” Leo asked as he was dragged into the room unceremoniously. Donnie was returning with Raph and Splinter.

“We need to wait for Casey, I told him to come.”

“Do you want me to grab Mikey?” Raph asked, tilting his head as he jabbed his thumb in the direction of Mikey’s room. April choked on the sob in her throat, tears leaping to her eyes.

“That’s what I’m here about-”

“I feel like I walked in on something,” Casey’s voice came from the entrance.

“Thank god,” April sighed, wiping her eyes. Diving into her explanation, she watched the brother’s faces go from confused, to concerned, until they were slack with horror.

“How do you know? He could’ve lied,” Donnie reasoned, shaking his head frantically. “He could be in his room or out painting or-”

“Donnie.” April interrupted, digging through her bag and holding out Mikey’s phone and nunchuks. “That’s what I thought too, but I saw the place. It was a mess. There was definitely a fight there, and I don’t think Mikey won.” She said, scrabbling at her eyes.

“No, no Mikey is perfectly capable of defending himself,” Leo said, shaking his head. “I’ll go look for him,” Leo added, slipping out of the room. When he came back several silent minutes later, he was frowning, staring at the floor. “He’s not in his room, he’s not in the kitchen. He’s not anywhere, I even checked Donnie’s lab.”

“Can I see?” Raph asked, stepping closer and holding out his hand. April put the items into his hand.

“His backpack and hoodie were there too,” April added. Raph rubbed his thumb over the screen, feeling the spiderwebbed glass. Kneeling down, he passed the items to a silent and stunned Splinter.

“What do you think Master Splinter?” Raph asked, voice cracking.

“I don’t know…” Splinter admitted, holding the items gingerly. “Can you show me where you got these?” He asked, looking up at April. April nodded.

“I’ll come with y-” Raph began.

“No. You won’t come with me, you’ll stay here. All of you will.”

“What! Why not? He’s our brother, are we supposed to just sit here doing nothing?” Leo protested.

“Yes. You think they would stop with just your brother? I am not risking any of you.” Splinter shouted, glaring at the remaining three turtles. “Even if he wasn’t kidnapped, I am not willing to risk losing any of you. Casey, stay here in case anyone comes to the lair, April lead the way,” Splinter sighed, following April out of the lair and into the sewers.

“This is bogus.” Leo protested, collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find him with my trackers,” Donnie said. Raph looked at him incredulously. “What? They saved you after all, as far as I’m concerned I was right to chip you all.”

“Just go, we need all the help we can get,” Leo said, shaking his head. Donnie disappeared into his lab, while Raph, Casey and Leo sat in utter silence.

“We should’ve listened to him.” Leo mumbled, voice quiet, barely above a whisper. “He told us he felt like he was being watched. I told him it was a raccoon. I didn’t believe him.”

“We’re not always gonna get it right Leo. Sometimes we mess up.” Raph sighed, sitting beside his brother. “It’s Mikey, he’ll be home in no time.” Though Raph didn’t know if he was convincing Leo or himself more.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Leo sighed.

“This is… weird.” Donnie said, walking back into the room, a map pulled up from his wrist. He tapped the screen a few times, the map projecting on the wall from his wrist. “It’s tracking within the Hidden City, that’s the good news, I wasn’t sure if it’d work down there. But it seems to be somewhere below the street level. I didn’t even know they had an underground level.” Donnie explained.

“So this dot is supposed to be Michelangelo?” Casey asked, walking up to the wall and pointing at the orange spot on the map. “This doesn’t look like it's below anything, so it should be moving shouldn’t it?”

“Theoretically yes,” Donnie replied, squinting at the map. “Let’s see…” He muttered, changing the view of the map. It was under the street but not under a building.

“But maybe there’s something hidden under the street.” Leo suggested, hopping to his feet. “I say we check it out.”

“Now?” Casey asked. “But didn’t Splinter say-”

“Our dad says a lot of things, but this is Mikey. We can’t just let him slip away if he’s in trouble.” Leo said.

“I don’t say this often but I think Leo’s right. Raph?” Donnie asked, the projection closing and appearing back on the screen on his wrist.

“I’m in.”

“Are you coming or not Case?” Leo asked, looking at Casey.

“I’m coming with.”

“Then it’s settled. Grab your weapons,” Leo said.

Ten minutes later they stood on a bustling street, nearby where they had seen Mikey’s tracker. On Donnie’s map it was still there, blinking below them as Leo tried to find the passageway down to below the streets.

“I think I found it!” Leo shouted victoriously from an alleyway. Raph Donnie and Casey wandered into the alley, looking for it.

“...Whaaat are we supposed to be looking at?” Donnie asked. Leo grinned proudly and kicked a trash can to the side, revealing… nothing. It was just bare ground. “Cool. Now try looking for the entrance.” Donnie sighed, shaking his head. Casey wandered over to the wall, tapping against it with the handle of his hockey stick, searching along the length of the wall. They all perked up when they heard it hit something hollow sounding.

“Just press any brick,” Raph said as Leo and Donnie crowded near, pressing every brick they could see, Until finally Donnie hit one and it gave way, slotting into place with a clunk, followed by a creaking noise as it swung open. Pressing a button, two lights sprung from Donnie’s shell, illuminating a dirty set of stairs before them.

“After you dear leader,” Donnie said, grimacing and pushing Leo ahead of him.

“Donnie you have the lights here.” Leo protested.

“Yeah but I don’t wanna go first, so.”

“Guys enough,” Raph sighed, squeezing past everyone and walking down the stone stairs, his footsteps echoing on the ground. Donnie followed after him, ignoring as Leo stuck out his tongue at his twin, Casey following and Leo flanking them.

Raph hit the bottom of the steps, finding a rounded tunnel, dirt caking the walls that may have once been tile or stone. Looking back at Donnie, he waited for instructions, as the tunnel stretched far to both his left and right.

“Uhhhh, right,” Donnie said, stepping down from the stairs. Their feet padded along the dirt passageway silently, Leo and Casey walking beside Donnie, while Raph seemed to be speed walking towards it. However, after about a minute of walking in silence, Raph stopped dead in his tracks.

“What is it?” Leo asked.

“I- Wh… It.” Raph stammered, finally moving to the side. Donnie’s mouth dropped open as he looked at what had stopped Raph.

A pool of dark liquid soaked into the dirt, and in the middle of it was a tiny flashing red light.

“Oh my god…” Donnie trailed off, touching his face as tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to spill over. Leo swallowed and walked over to it, kneeling down and picking the tracker up, beckoning Donnie over.

“Please D, tell me this isn’t your work.” Leo said, holding it up for Donnie to examine. Donnie shook his head.

“Let me see,” Donnie said, leaning in closer. “I wish I could say it wasn’t. But that definitely is.”

Leo looked further down the tunnel, a trail of blood heading deeper into the Hidden City on the ground. “It’s still a clue.”

Chapter Text

Mikey could taste something metallic in his mouth, like copper. It was pungent and unpleasant, clinging to his tongue thickly. Opening his eyes, he realized he was in a room of sorts. The cold floor pressed into his shoulder, hard and covered in dirt, and when he tried to sit up, he found his hands bound behind his back. Struggling to his knees, he contorted his body, awkwardly rolling to the side onto his knees and struggling to get his feet underneath himself, stumbling as he stood. His shoulder hurt, warmth radiating from the area, something wet rolling down his skin, cooling as it fell. It smelled more strongly of copper now, infesting his nose like a plague. The room was dark, but there was a square of light coming from what Mikey assumed was a door. Silently moving across the floor, Mikey turned, his back facing the door so he could feel the width of the door with his hand. The oiled wood slid under his fingers smoothly, and Mikey’s eyes began to adjust to the light. The door was very large and wide, the hinges felt sturdy, they wouldn’t be easily broken.. Mikey was really wishing they’d kidnapped Donnie too, there was no way Donnie wouldn’t have something on him to take the hinges off.

Raph probably would’ve brute forced his way out by now, and Leo would’ve come up with something to get himself out. But he wasn’t his brothers, he couldn’t do what they did, he had to do it his way. Peeking behind himself, he stood on his toes, trying to see through the window. Fuck. Too short. Jumping he tried to look, only able to see a stone hallway lined with fluorescent lights, like April’s school, only more prison-esque. Bending his knees to silence his fall, Mikey looked around the room to see if there was something he could use. He needed his hands untied first of all. Then he could work on getting out of this place, wherever it was. He could ask questions later, right now he had to get out.

Mikey contorted himself trying to get his hands to at least be in front of him, that would surely make it easier. He decided on stepping through his hands, ignoring the way his arms strained, and the way he swayed wildly as he did so. When his hands were finally in front of him, he held his wrists up to the light, studying them. Bound with zip ties. Well, now was as good a time to test those weird social media videos Mikey had seen for ages. Lifting his arms, he angled his elbows and brought them down hard, hearing and feeling the ties snap. Mikey laughed silently, rubbing his wrists. He didn’t need his brothers. He could get out without them just fine. Hell, Mikey would wager he’d be back before they even noticed he was gone.

Down the hall the click of shoes piqued his interest. Looking around, Mikey took a running start, scrambling up the wall in the corner, holding onto the walls and watching the door silently.

“Time to get up, the boss wants to see ya!” A voice called from outside the door. Mikey heard an exasperated sigh, followed by jangling keys. The door swung open, nearly blinding Mikey with the light from the hallway. The guard stepped into the cell, a large man with a raccoon-like head, looking around for Mikey. Mikey seized the opportunity, letting himself go and landing on the opened door, immediately lashing out with his foot, hitting the yokai guard’s head with a sickening thud that rang in Mikey’s ears as the man crumpled to the ground. Mikey hopped down to the ground silently, stooping down to grab the keys. Walking out of the cell he closed and locked it behind himself, grinning and puffing his chest out. His brothers would be floored to know he escaped on his own, maybe they would finally stop babying him like he was a toddler. Shaking his head, Mikey crept down the hallway, ducking under the windows in the doors, praying he was going the right way and not just walking further into the belly of the building. He couldn’t see any windows, he had no idea what time it was, but he had his guesses where he was.

The guard was a yokai, so clearly in the Hidden City or somewhere adjacent. It couldn’t be Draxum, he was on the surface now. Mikey’s mouth went dry as he realized who was left. He prayed it wasn’t her, they’d already had such a hard time getting away from her before.

“What could be taking him so long?” A familiar, high pitched voice rang. His fears were confirmed. Looking around Mikey tried to find somewhere to hide, ducking into an open cell, chest heaving as he flattened himself against a wall, covering his mouth with his hands, praying she wouldn’t hear.

“I smell something.” Another voice said, footsteps halting just outside. Mikey choked down the sob in his throat. He was so close, he couldn’t get caught now. Climbing the wall silently, he hung in the corner, limbs shaking with the effort of holding him up against the walls. The door swung open, the light flooding the room, and in stepped a large dog. Gus. He sniffed the air, looking around. Mikey’s hand began to slip, slick with sweat. Mikey grunted involuntarily as he shifted, heart sinking when Gus looked his way and locked eyes with him. Mikey gave in, darting to the top of the door aiming a kick Gus’s way, praying he’d be an easy target like the other guard. No such luck, the dog caught his foot in his hand, Mikey yelping as the grip tightened. Gus yanked his leg, and Mikey fell from the door, hitting the ground with a thud, his head hitting the door and the floor on the way down, his teeth clacking together hard. The taste of copper in Mikey’s mouth thickened, and he struggled to sit up, head spinning. He spit onto the ground, seeing it was entirely red.

“Goodness, you’re quite the little fighter hm?” Big Mama asked, stepping into the room, directly in front of Mikey, her human form as prim and proper as it always was. “That’s good, I seem to have picked the right turtley-boo.” She said, her voice saccharine and fake. “I’ll be taking these.” She added, grabbing the keys from Mikey. “Don’t want you wandering somewhere you’re not supposed to be, now do we?” She asked, bending down to study Mikey. He seized his chance, aiming a swift kick at her shins, toppling her over as he got up and made a run for it, head spinning all the while, begging him to stop. He couldn’t stop, he needed to get to the streets of the Hidden City, the sewers, the hotel, somewhere familiar.

Mikey picked up his pace when he heard Big Mama send Gus after him, lungs burning as he ran, skidding around a corner, finding himself at a door. He tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge. Mikey looked around, trying to find something, anything. But it was a dead end. Gus rounded the corner, hackles raised. Mikey banged on the door, screaming as he panicked, realizing there was no escape now.

“Please! Stop!” He begged, but it fell on deaf ears as Gus grabbed his ankle and began dragging him back to the hallway where he had started. Mikey struggled against his grip, kicking at his hand until he finally let go. He tried running the other way, past Gus, and successfully passed him. And then he saw what was waiting for him. Big Mama, in full spider form, staring him down. Mikey slid to a stop.

“Fuck.” He said eloquently.

Thrown back in the cell, Mikey groaned.

“I have a deal to propose.” Big Mama said, shutting the door and looking in through the window.

“No, die.” Mikey responded.

“Oh come on dear, you haven’t even heard what the deal is,”

“I don’t need to.”

“Oh I think you’ll change your mind. Gus, tell the guards to give him the solitary treatment. We’ll have him cooperating soon enough.” She said, eyeing Mikey with a grin. Something about that smile made Mikey uneasy.

Mikey couldn’t remember how long it had been now. He had no way to track the days, but he knew he was starving. He hadn’t eaten in so long, he couldn’t remember when he last ate. His blood sugar had been fluctuating wildly, leaving him weak and shaking in the corner of his dark cell. Mikey flinched as the door opened, revealing Big Mama, holding a tray. It smelled like it had food, and Mikey’s stomach immediately responded, growling hungrily as he looked at her like a saint sent to save his soul. She closed the door behind her, turning to Mikey.

“Much tamer now aren’t we darling?” She asked, her voice sickly sweet. Even so, Mikey welcomed it. No guards had even so much as looked into his room. His every escape attempt was thwarted by the simple fact of there was nothing in the room to work with. The door was constantly guarded, there was no bed, nothing. Just Mikey and the walls. “I have a deal to propose, and it has something to do with this.” She said, lifting the tray higher. Mikey’s mouth was so dry. Nodding, he watched her intently. “This food is yours-”

Mikey’s stomach rumbled at the promise of food, loudly interrupting Big Mama.

“-on one condition.” She finished, Mikey’s heart sinking as she said it. “You can eat, if you agree to fight in the Battle Nexus.”

“... How long?”

“To earn this meal? All you need to do is agree to one battle.” She said, kneeling in front of Mikey. There on the tray was rice, a sauce or stew he couldn’t quite see in the dim light, and what looked and smelled like miso soup. Mikey liked simple food first and foremost, but Mikey felt his heart clench at the sight. This was always Splinter’s go to meal when they were kids. Their father wasn’t a cook by any stretch of the imagination, but he could make this. And Mikey had always associated it with home. With the safety of his father’s grasp.

“I’ll do it.” He said, nodding. Big Mama set the tray down, backing up as Mikey grabbed the chopsticks and began shovelling the food into his mouth. It was japanese curry, and it was good. Tears streamed down his face as he ate ravenously, taking little time to actually taste the food. The door shut, but he kept shovelling the food into his mouth, barely chewing. He choked out a sob as he ate desperately, the feeling of food hitting his empty stomach so blissful. Part of him knew he would regret agreeing, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was this little slice of home, this piece of familiarity. Putting the curry and rice down Mikey picked up the bowl of miso soup, completely foregoing the spoon and lifting the bowl to his mouth. It burned as it went down, still too hot, but Mikey didn’t stop. Gasping for air when he finally finished the soup, he wilted against the wall, finally feeling some semblance of normal. His brain finally was focused on something other than eating.

The regret would only sink in later, as he was thrown an outfit and a mask. The clothing was thin and stretchy, black in colour, and came with a hood, the mask itself was bone white, with orange eyes and a painted orange smile that seemed more threatening than inviting.

“What’s this?” Mikey asked, turning to look at the guard as he held the garments in his hands.

“What do you think it is? A cupcake?” The guard snarled, all four eyes rolling as he crossed his arms. Mikey huffed and retreated into the corner, putting everything on except the mask. When he was done the guard grabbed him and pulled him into the hallway gruffly, marching him down to a turn.

“Mask on.” He snapped, pushing Mikey around the corner. Mikey pulled the mask over his head, flipping the hood up and walking down the hall, noises coming from the end of the hallway.

The walls pressed in around him threateningly, slivers of light leading his way in the otherwise dark passageway. The smell of blood was thick in the air, choking him and coating the inside of his mouth. There, at the end of the hallway that seemed to stretch forever, was a bright light in the shape of the doorway. A roar sounded from outside the doors, but to Mikey it sounded like he’d been submerged under water. All he could feel was the pound of his heart and all he could hear was his lungs working double time. Panicking more and more the closer they got, Mikey froze. Immediately he felt metal prod at his shell, shoving him forward even as he tried to back up.

“Keep moving.” The gruff voice came from behind him, asserting itself. Mikey pushed back, shaking his head repeatedly, fighting the urge to curl into his shell. He needed an out. But his brothers who normally gave him that option, who normally tried so hard to make sure Mikey was okay, were nowhere to be found.

For the first time in his life, Mikey felt well and truly alone.

Years of being the youngest of four, hell, five siblings, had not prepared him for the feeling. Inside he felt something shift, and it took him a minute to recognize it. It was so foreign to him.

He lost hope his brothers could save him.

He was being marched to his own death, for the viewing pleasure of thousands, and the benefit of a woman he had so stupidly and naively trusted before. There was no hope to be found, no matter how hard he tried. His limbs went slack and the panic in his chest gave way to despair. This is not how he wanted to die. But it didn’t seem he had much choice in the matter as he was shoved along to the arena.

The flooring changed under his feet, and the light blinded him as he entered the arena. Lifting his arm to cover his eyes he heard screeches and cheers, the crowd eating up every second. Mikey stepped forward, further into the arena, and heard a creak and a slam behind him. Whipping around he looked and saw the heavy iron doors shut behind him, and then he heard the lock turn. Tears stinging his eyes he ran to the door, pounding on it with his fists, screaming and begging to be let back out. He screeched and screamed like his life depended on it, sobs catching in his throat as he pleaded with the guards on the other side of the door, the audience, Big Mama, anybody to be spared.

His cries were drowned out by the crowd. It was futile. Turning, his chest heaved with his panic, watching as they released his opponent.

A gigantic dog-like beast, though it’s gnashing jaw was more like that of a crocodile’s. It was squat and hovered low to the ground, heavy frame supported by bowed legs and paws that were easily the size of a manhole cover. It's tail wagged as the crowd cheered, stirring up the dirt in the arena, making large dust clouds.

Mikey had no weapon, nothing to defend himself. He was entirely and utterly screwed.

Chapter Text

Donnie liked to count a lot of things to be within his talents and expertise. Science in general, engineering, inventing. He was a whiz with anything made of metal, but when it came to emotions he let Mikey handle that. Donnie was more one to run from his emotions, ignore them. Anything except feel them. Usually Mikey came to him with worries, wanting to be talked down, while the youngest was good with emotions and was so emotionally mature for his age, sometimes the thoughts he had were irrational. Donnie, on the other hand, was rational, so he would help Mikey calm down.

But now Donnie couldn’t shake the guilt of doing so. He thought that when Mikey came to him a week ago now, saying he felt like he was being watched, that Mikey wanted someone to justify it. Someone to help him think rationally, not that he was asking for help. Mikey had complained of feeling like eyes were on him many times before, this was nothing out of the ordinary. Donnie thought he should just do what he always did, and rationalize the feeling so Mikey wouldn’t worry about it anymore.

Shaking his head, Donnie focused back on the screen before him. Around him on every screen was every camera in the Hidden City, which admittedly wasn’t a lot. Donnie would forever curse the fact that the Hidden City used mystic powers more than they used technology from the surface.

Donnie stared at the screen in front of him, watching a figure. The camera was focused on the Battle Nexus arena, the dust kicking up around their feet. Something about the way it moved looked so familiar, but it was… off. Every move was athletic, bouncy, but there was something deeper. It was like Mikey, but the figure seemed desperate, terrified. This was like a pale imitation of his baby brother. It held back no punches and it retreated away from the beast in front of it instead of leaning in. Mikey always seemed to lean in. He was always engaged in the fight, he didn’t back down and rarely let on if he was scared. It was something Donnie was jealous of. Mikey always found a way to smile during a fight, Donnie for the life of him couldn’t figure it out.

But still he couldn’t shake the feeling. The figure scaled the walls of the arena, grabbing a chain, and Donnie found himself pleading that he would do something familiar, praying that it really was Mikey. He was so engrossed he didn’t hear anyone come in until he felt a hand on his shoulder, he jumped and screamed, whipping around only to find Leo.

“You’re up early.” Leo said, leaning over the desk, watching the screens.

“Haha, yeah. Definitely up early.”

“You haven’t slept yet have you?”

“… that’s between me and the coffee pot.” Donnie answered.

“Don give it a break, you’ve been at this for days.” Leo sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m so close though! I can feel it!” Donnie replied, pointing at the Battle Nexus camera. “Look, don’t they look familiar?”

“No. They don’t.”

“Not their clothes, Leo, look at how they’re moving,” Donnie insisted as the figure on the screen delivered a hearty kick to the ribs of the beast. The figure whipped the chain at one of the heads of the beast, the one in the middle, the chain wrapping itself around the neck of the dog-like creature. The figure grabbed the ends of the chain and swung onto its back, pulling the chain. Leo’s mouth hung open in disbelief as the crowd cheered and screamed their approval as the animal choked and gasped for air, the other two heads desperately trying to reach its back, spinning around like it was chasing its tail. There was an audible crack as the figure pulled at the chain again, and the head went limp, falling down at an unnatural angle. Donnie hurriedly closed the tab, covering his mouth and looking at Leo.

“I don’t think that’s Mikey… I hope it’s not.” Leo said quietly, shaking his head. “I fought in the Nexus, this isn’t normal, they don’t usually kill each other.”

“I don’t think Mikey would do that. What the fuck.” Donnie whispered, turning away from his computer.

“…Raph’s making breakfast. You should come eat, he’s worried about you.”

“I’m fine, he doesn’t need to be worried.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Fine. Are you really fine?” Leo asked, his voice getting quiet. There were a million unspoken words between the twins as they exchanged a glance.

“I will be.” Donnie answered. Once they found Mikey he’d be fine.

Breakfast without Mikey felt like sacrilege. For as long as Donnie could remember, Mikey had always made breakfast. Rain or shine, sick or not, he was in the kitchen first thing in the morning, music playing, humming along to the rhythm. He always had food ready for his brothers by the time Raph was awake, their preferences memorized. Raph liked jam on his toast and his eggs scrambled, Leo liked french toast with strawberries, Donnie liked cereal and peanut butter toast. Without him in the kitchen it was hard to even come near the room. Still, Donnie followed Leo, looking at the food Raph had made. Raph was the only one aside from Mikey who could make food that was edible. Leo and Donnie would not survive if they had to make food for themselves. Despite knowing that, Donnie couldn’t help the way his face scrunched when he got the smell of burnt eggs as he entered the kitchen. Donnie walked past a very stressed Raph, trying to scrape eggs off a pan and into the garbage, opening a cupboard and grabbing his usual standby, his usual cereal, before grabbing the milk from the fridge and his favourite bowl. He shook the cereal into the bowl, shoving it back into the cupboard.

“Hey, how’re you doin’ Don?” Raph asked, voice overly sweet. He meant well but it made Donnie frustrated. He didn’t need to be coddled.

“I’m fine,” Donnie said, shrugging his shoulders, pouring the milk into the bowl and grabbing a spoon before putting everything else away. Sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, he shovelled food into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to speak. He knew himself, he knew he’d say something. He couldn’t just pretend everything was fine when there was a giant elephant in the room, something so obviously and fundamentally wrong. The room felt hollow, just like every room in the lair. Mikey’s presence was vital to the lair, it wasn’t home without him. The distinct lack of humming and music that always followed his little brother was haunting, the smell of fresh paint was missing too, the ever cluttered walls were no longer covered in new works in progress. All the constants that were just so… Mikey in their essence were missing and everything felt wrong without them. It was their house, but it was lacking everything Donnie had associated with a home.

“Geez Raph, how many eggs are you gonna burn?” Leo asked, snickering as Raph grumbled, tossing the pan onto the counter in frustration.

“Can it Leo.” Raph grumbled. Donnie could feel the tension in the air like a thick fog, a storm was brewing, and this time there was nobody to diffuse it.

“What? I was making a joke, lighten up a little buddy!” Leo said, grinning smugly. Leo somehow knew every button to press to get Raph to react.

“You always do this.” Raph snapped. Donnie sighed silently and stood up, leaving his bowl and slinking out of the kitchen into the common area. Not far enough, he could still hear them arguing.

“Do what?! It’s not my fault you’re so pissy all the time!” Leo taunted. Wandering further into the bowels of the lair, Donnie stopped in front of a door he hadn’t been near in over a week. It was Mikey’s room. Something took over Donnie, stepping into the room. It was dark, but Donnie knew there was no overhead light. Wandering into the corner, he turned on a lamp, orange light flooding the room, casting shadows on the walls covered in graffiti. There was a hammock strung across the room, and a discarded orange hoodie on the ground, where it had been for ages. The room smelled stale. Stagnant. It felt like Donnie wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Even still, he grabbed the hoodie, sitting on the hammock, crossing his legs and looking around the room. Distantly he could hear Raph and Leo yelling. Donnie hugged the hoodie to his chest, clinging to the orange fabric. It smelled of paint, and was covered in paint splotches and stains, some faded, some as bright as the day they appeared. His eyes stung, burning profusely as he tried to blink away the moisture. Even still, tears dripped down his face, and he couldn’t stop it as a sob bubbled up from his throat.

Burying his face in the fabric, Donnie let the sobs roll over him, shaking as they came like waves. He missed his brother. He missed everything that came with him, and he found himself even missing the parts he had once hated. There was a rift in the family now, their dad rarely left his room, Donnie was exhausted trying to find him. Everything was wrong and the only person who could fix it was Mikey.

Donnie sat there, choking on quiet sobs as he clung to what little he had left of his brother.

“My son?” A familiar, scratchy voice said. Donnie looked up, seeing Splinter standing in the doorway. Donnie hadn’t even heard the footsteps approach and stop outside. Donnie scrambled to wipe his eyes, feeling like an interloper in his own home. He began to get up, but to his surprise, Splinter walked over and sat in the hammock beside him. “I miss him too. Can I see?” His father said quietly, holding his hands out. Donnie nodded, handing him the hoodie. Donnie saw a blue stain and smiled sadly.

“That one was from when Leo knocked him off his ladder, Mikey was so upset.” Donnie explained, pointing at it. Splinter smiled, tracing the edge with his finger. “I think that was the first piece he did here.”

“He was so proud of that one. He said it felt like home again.” Splinter said, looking up at Donnie. He placed a hand on Donnie’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “He’ll come home. It seems impossible now, but he’s much more capable than he’s given credit for. He’s going to be okay.” He reassured. Donnie choked on a sob and found himself pulled into a hug by his father, the tears coming back full force as he sobbed into his dad’s shoulder, grip tightening on Mikey’s hoodie.

Donnie was back in his lab, watching the footage of the fight. Over and over, becoming desensitized more and more as he watched. There was blood, lots of it. The crocodilian heads of the beast looked bloodthirsty. Donnie watched as the figure on the screen came far too close to getting bitten by the freakishly large teeth for Donnie’s liking. He’d watched so many Battle Nexus fights, but never had they seemed so brutal. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was thinking it was Mikey or if it really was just that gorey. Studying the footage, he paused every few frames, going moment by moment, analyzing the structure of the figure, the stature, the body language, every inch of the figure until his eyes began to burn profusely. He gripped the orange hoodie in his hands tightly as he watched for the thousandth time as the figure snapped the middle head’s neck. The sound never got easier to listen to.

Staring intently as he slowed the footage, he watched as the figure jumped off the beasts back, the way it dove and rolled. When it jumped, the figure went exceptionally high, the chains were used so fluently and easily, there was an obvious familiarity for the figure. Donnie was sure of it now. Leo might not have been sure, but Donnie was. It had to be Mikey. There was no use of mystic powers, which was odd for the turtle, but Donnie felt it in his gut, in his soul. There were enough similarities. He usually didn’t like to leave things up to chance like this. But there was no time to lose. Mikey was in trouble, and someone had to help.

Standing up, Donnie stretched, feeling his back pop as he swapped out his artificial shell for his battle shell. Gently, he placed Mikey’s hoodie on his bed, carefully laying it out and giving it a long look, praying that Mikey would be around to wear it by the end of this mission. He checked the time, seeing it was the middle of the night. Perfect. Slinking out of his room, he crept through the lair, footsteps silent as he passed Raph’s room. He could hear snoring, and froze as it paused. Donnie held his breath for a solid minute, and then finally the snoring resumed. They really had to look into a sleep apnea machine for Raph. He relaxed, creeping along. Passing Leo’s room without incident, and finally making it to the common area, where he could slip out of the lair and into the service tunnels and sewer system. Donnie followed the tunnels, finally finding an exit and popping out onto the street. He darted into the alleyways, hiding in the shadows. He followed the alleyways until he reached what he was looking for.

His heart was doing somersaults as he looked upon the large building. The last time he was there it was during their battle with the Shredder. Donnie’s stomach churned in protest, his heart picking up pace. He shouldn’t be here. He should run. This place was nothing but awful experiences. But Mikey was inside. Somewhere inside his brother needed his help. There was no choice, he had to go in. For Mikey. For his family. Donnie waited, watching the doors, seeing someone heading in. He followed, hiding himself in the shadows the light cast, somewhat thankful for them. The person walked into the hotel, looking around and pressing their brooch, their human form giving way to a woman who looked the exact same, but on the back of her head, nestled in her black hair was another mouth. Donnie slipped in as the door began to close, sticking to the corners of the lobby.

Donnie watched in silence, following as she went to the front desk. Donnie needed a way in. He’d have to find a way down into the Battle Nexus.

Donnie felt around in his battle shell, grinning as he grabbed his wallet. He procured a coin, it was large and golden, if he recalled it was Canadian. Part of him wanted to keep it, but it was the biggest coin he had. Creeping through the shadows, he stood by the elevator, waiting. The doors opened with a loud ding, and Donnie waited for the operator to look up. When the small bird-like yokai looked up, Donnie tossed the coin. It bounced against the floor with a metallic chime, and caught the eye of the bird immediately. He left the elevator, looking around before grinning and stooping to pick it up. Donnie slipped into the elevator, closing the doors before the operator could turn around, pulling up a map of the building on his wrist. If he was right, it should’ve been the fourth floor down. Donnie pressed the button, relaxing as the elevator began to move down.

When the doors opened, it was to a lounge room, and he slipped into the shadows. He saw yokai all over the place, gargoyles hanging around. The room was beautifully lavish, the lights dim, and along one wall was a table laden with food that smelled amazing. The walls were a gorgeous shade of maroon, trimmed with golden accents. The only light came from a chandelier in the middle of the room, though it didn’t throw off much light to Donnie’s relief. The yokai and gargoyles were all chatting and eating, hanging around the centre of the room, hearty laughter coming from them. Donnie’s eyes locked on the only door out. Hanging around the edges of the room, he approached the door, waiting, crouched in the corner. The door opened, and out came several tall, sleek fox-like yokai, chatting and laughing to one another.

Donnie slipped into the door before it closed, finding himself in a hallway. It was ornately decorated, light sconces adorning the deep purple walls. Listen, Donnie loved purple, and would go on about how it was the best colour when pressed. But even this was a little much for his taste. It was accented with red doors that had golden name plates on them. There were names Donnie recognized, like Gus, and others he didn’t. He couldn’t recognize most of them actually. Creeping along the carpeted floor, he looked for anything that might point to Mikey being nearby. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly. But he had hope that he’d know it when he saw it. Part of him was hoping the smell of paint or splotches of acrylic or spray paint would point the way to Mikey, the way they did when he was home, but of course that would be far too easy.

Donnie froze where he was as he heard a door open. His vision snapped and locked onto the spot the noise was coming from. There, clad all in black, was a short figure. The clothes looked so familiar. They were loosely fitted, a hood over the back of their head. Donnie grinned and ran towards the figure. They were Mikey sized, it had to be him. Donnie, in his excitement, grabbed the figure, pulling them into a hug. They yelped and shoved him off, going on the defensive immediately, grabbing Donnie’s arm and twisting it behind his back.

“Who are you?” A high pitched, muffled voice came from behind the mask. It was bone white, orange eyes and a weird mouth painted on the mask. Donnie bit back a cry as his heart sank.

“I’m sorry! I thought you were someone else!” Donnie replied, his free hand fishing for his staff, pressing a button and feeling it expand, quickly aiming a hit at the head so they would let him go. As his staff hit their head, the mask flew off, revealing a shocked looking… turtle? Donnie stepped back, staring at her. “You’re… like me.” Donnie said, staring at her in disbelief. There was another one of them? How many more soldiers did Draxum create? She hastily grabbed her mask, pulling it over her head as she bolted away. Donnie swore under his breath, looking around above him. A vent. Bingo.

Scrambling up the wall, using the protruding door frame as a foot hold, he got up to the vent, procuring a screwdriver from his shell as he collapsed his staff, stuffing it into his pocket. The vent came off easily, and Donnie slipped into the vent, letting the cover clatter to the ground. He didn’t have much time to get out. Wiggling through the vent he grumbled and sighed.

“God, when was the last time they cleaned in here? This is so nasty.” He muttered under his breath, feeling the dust collecting on his arms and knees. This was his own personal hell, but it was this or get caught. Looking at it like that, it was preferable to be in the cramped, claustrophobic and utterly disgusting vent instead of anywhere else. Donnie tried to get his bearings, laying down on his stomach and pulling up a holo map on his wrist. He studied it for a moment, wiggling down the vent shaft and taking several turns before finally finding his exit. Donnie wiggled around, grabbing onto his staff and extending it, shoving against the grate until it fell to the ground with a clatter.

“So much for stealth.” Donnie grumbled, pulling himself out of the grate, flipping around so he landed on his feet, looking around. The elevator was a few feet away. He made a run for it, pressing the button over and over. “Cmon, cmon, hurry up” he grumbled.

“Hey!” He heard a shout. Donnie whipped around and looked behind him, seeing a large owl man dressed in the hotel uniform. He began running, two more yokai skidding to a stop and running towards him behind the owl man.

“Shit shit shit shit.” Donnie said, holding his staff in ready. The yokai were approaching, just a few metres away, when the elevator dinged and opened. Donnie backed into it, still keeping his staff at the ready while he frantically punched the main floor button. The doors slid shut, just as they reached the door, Donnie sighing in relief, wilting against the door. “Thank fuck.” He laughed breathlessly. The door opened and Donnie made a mad dash for it, sprinting across the lobby, ignoring the stares. He shoved the door open and ran into an alleyway, scaling the fire escape. Once he was on the roof, hidden away, he looked back at the hotel, seeing it in disarray, yokai disguised as humans filing onto the street, looking for him.

He needed to get home, he had some questions for Draxum.

Chapter Text

The beast before Mikey snarled, its reptilian heads gnashing at the air as the crowd cheered, their screams echoing around the arena. Mikey looked around, trying to find a way out, head swivelling frantically. There had to be a way out, right? The beast ambled towards him, the steps shaking the ground beneath Mikey. Adrenaline took over, flooding his system, and driving him away from the wall. Ducking under the beast he narrowly avoided a large drop of drool that dripped onto the dirt, a puddle forming below it. He popped out beside the animal, wasting no time in sprinting across the dirt floor as the dog-like creature turned around, its tail sweeping across the ground. Looking around again, he trained his eyes on the arena this time instead of the crowd. A weapon. He needed a weapon.

The bounding steps of the monster could be heard behind Mikey, loping towards him at a slow steady speed. Mikey glanced back at it. Which head controlled what? Were they all the same? Mikey was really missing Leo for something like this. He had to focus. What would Leo do?

Splinter had always taught them to assess their surroundings, gather their bearings and use any and everything to their advantage. Assess. Mikey scanned the floor, turning around and seeing the mud puddle the monster had created below itself, and the trail of them that followed. The left head drooled. A lot. He could use that. Skidding to a stop Mikey waited for the monster to catch up, before making a run for one of the mud puddles nearby. Stooping down as he ran, he grabbed a handful of mud, trying not to gag at the slimy texture in his hand. Turning on his heel, he hurled the mud at the monster who was following. The mud hit the middle head with a loud slapping noise that would’ve been comical if he wasn’t about to die. It landed exactly where Mikey wanted it to, hitting the animal in the eyes. It skidded to a stop, crouching and trying to wipe off the mud, the other two reptilian heads attempting to help. Mikey laughed gleefully, grinning cheekily up at the stands where the crowd cheered, despite knowing they couldn’t see his face due to the mask.

The distraction didn’t last long, the beast charging Mikey, catching him off guard as he celebrated, knocking him to the ground, his head bouncing off the hard ground with a loud crack that resonated in Mikey’s head.

Groaning in pain, Mikey grabbed another handful of mud. Gnashing its massive maws, it leaned down, drool dripping from the left head as they all closed in. Mikey launched the mud down the gaping maw of the one on the right, the mud going directly to its throat, clogging the windpipe. It immediately backed away, the left head whining loudly as the one on the right choked and coughed desperately, trying to dislodge the mud. Mikey’s eyes turned to the walls, decorated with large banners and velvet. Nothing of use. Or so he thought, until he spotted it. There was a chain on a wall, holding a box steady over the arena.

Making a run for it, forcing himself to his feet and passing the monster still coughing up mud, reaching the wall and beginning to scale the gaudy purple velvet curtains. Mikey inched up the velvet, ignoring how it swung under his weight. Reaching the chain where it was secured, he pulled it over the hook, the chain immediately sent flying as the box plummeted to the ground. Mikey dropped himself onto the ground, rolling to lessen the impact and slow his fall like Leo had taught him. The box had crumbled on impact, revealing rocks and branches, set dressing for a show. Mikey ignored it, grabbing the chain and yanking on it, pulling the other end towards himself. It was slightly bulkier than Mikey liked to work with, but he could do this. He had no choice. Gathering up the chains he made a run for it, towards the monster. It’s head all snapped towards him, the head on the right still choking on the mud.

Throwing the chain, it wrapped around the middle neck, and Mikey used the rest of the chain, jumping and swinging himself around onto the beast's back, where he fumbled for the other end as the monster began to panic, high pitched yelps leaving it's throats. Mikey finally grabbed the chain and pulled, the chain tightening around its neck. Mikey pulled harder and harder the more it struggled below him, until finally with one last heave, he heard something snap. The head gave way, snapping back and falling limply, the eyes of the beast open, staring back at Mikey. It was haunting. He could see the life fade from its eyes.

The animal began to spin, as if it were chasing its tail, trying to throw Mikey off it's back, bucking like a wild horse. Struggling to keep his footing, he looped the chain around the left head, grabbing the loop and pulling with all his might, trying to channel some of the insane strength he’d had during the Kraang fight. He tried to recreate that feeling, the ripple of energy below the surface, trying to conjure up the mystic chains around him to help him. But there was nothing. It was like trying to pull water out of a well that had long since been drained. Still, he pulled, digging his heels into the beast’s back, feeling its spine below him, under the thick skin. There it was again, that horrific pop, the feeling of the neck giving way under, and the head fell limp. The body collapsed to the ground, throwing Mikey off it, but not far enough. It landed on him, crushing him. He screamed and began to wriggle out from under it, feeling its last few laboured breaths as the final head suffocated, falling limp with the mud still lodged in its throat.

Wiggling out from under the beast, Mikey stood shakily, and began to limp across the dirt packed ground, the sound of cheering crowds turning into roaring waves in his ears. His eyes locked onto the large iron doors being pulled open. Staring down the dark hallway, he willed himself to make it to the threshold at the very least. He was caked in sweat and dirt, his ankle felt sprained, his jaw was sore, and his muscles were screaming at him, pleading with him to just stop. He didn’t dare look behind him. The beast had been trying to kill him, but that didn’t make Mikey feel any better. The snap of their necks were a noise that he was never going to forget. Mikey made it to the threshold and as the door closed behind him, he collapsed onto the ground. Covering his mouth, he rolled onto his side, tears snaking their way over his face under the thick mask he wore. Sobs rolled over him, wracking his body as he shook his head, scrambling to pull the mask off. He threw it away, hitting the wall with a solid smack, and rolling onto his hands and knees. Stomach churning, he gagged, eyes squeezing shut as he threw up onto the stone ground, sobs choking him between as his own stomach acid burned his throat.

Retching and gagging, Mikey’s stomach emptied itself until all that was leaving his mouth was spit and mucus. Struggling to his feet, he leaned against the wall, wiping the tears out of his eyes.

“Oh my god.” He panted, feeling his knees shaking. Mikey wracked his brain, trying to reassure himself. What would his brothers say? The first thing that came to mind was Raph. Even despite all their differences, despite the fact Mikey resented his eldest brother for coddling him so much, he found himself wishing his big brother was there. Raph would’ve pulled him into a tight hug, so tight it felt like being suffocated, but it would also feel like home. Raph would’ve told him it’s okay, let him cry into his shoulder. And it was all Mikey wanted, for the first time in his life he was wishing, praying for Raph to coddle him again. He didn’t realize how much he’d grown to rely on it.

“What a wonderful show!” A voice far too cheery for Mikey’s taste called. His head snapped up and he looked at the source. Big Mama, in her human form, walking down the hallway. “You should be proud! Nobody’s bested my Guardian before,” she called, approaching. She ignored the vomit on the floor and grabbed Mikey by the shoulders. “This was a record turn out! The crowd adores you, ratings have never been higher, you’re a star,” she praised. Mikey opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

He couldn’t help it, it was just reminiscent enough of Raph that it reminded him of what he was missing out on, and he burst into tears all over again. Clutching onto her suit jacket he buried his face into her shoulder, shrieking and wailing like he was going to die. She smelled distinctly of cinnamon and vanilla, the scent soothing even as Mikey felt guilt grip his neck. Deep down he knew he shouldn’t trust her, shouldn’t even touch her. But he needed comfort so badly. He would take it from anyone. Even her.

“It’s okay darling, you did beautifully. You can rest now sweetheart,” she crooned. Mikey wanted so desperately to believe her. Needed to believe her. So he did. She took a few steps, stooping down to grab the now chipped mask off the ground, pressing it into Mikey’s hand. His hand barely gripped it, but he held onto it.

“I’m not fighting again.” He said, voice wavering as he shook where he stood. Handing her back the mask, he shook his head.

“Aw, darling you don’t have a choice.” She said, her voice just as sweet as it had been moments ago.

“I do. I'm not going to fight.” Mikey said, blunting the edge to his voice. “I don’t care what you do, I’m not going to fight anyone.”

“We’ll see about that yet darling.” She said, gently pushing him forward. “Take him back to his room, he needs some more time to think.” Her grin was sinister as she looked at him over her glasses, even as Mikey was grabbed by the wrist and dragged back down the hall. Mikey didn’t even bother walking, going limp and flopping onto the ground. It wasn’t smart to try to escape while being accompanied by a guard, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Sixteen years of being the youngest of four siblings had taught him many important skills. The main one? Getting what he wanted, every time.

Mikey had perfected the art of getting what he wanted from his brothers every time, all the time. In fact the only person it didn’t work on was April. Even Donnie was vulnerable to his powers. It was something Mikey was proud of, and he was going to make it work on Big Mama too. He was sure of it. The guard roughly threw Mikey into the cell. Mikey shifted, sitting cross legged against the wall, arms folded over his chest, and staring at the door as it shut. When it did shut he waited a few moments, before shifting to a more comfortable spot, laying across the floor. He sighed silently, closing his eyes and praying for sleep. He was exhausted, and something told him that would only compound over the next few days.

He was right. Though lately Mikey was regretting being right more than he liked to admit. Normally being right was a rare occurrence for him, but if this is what it meant then he didn’t want to be right anymore.

Mikey woke up what had to be days later to the door opening, light flooding the dark and straining Mikey’s eyes as they tried to readjust to the light.

“I told you, I’m not fighting anymore.” He said firmly, scooting back against the wall, looking at the door. There, silhouetted by the light, was Big Mama in her human form, looking down at him. It took Mikey a minute to realize she was holding something, and then it finally clicked. She was holding a glowing canister, filled with something that was an ominous, noxious shade of green.

“Oh I think I can change your mind.” She said, grinning, her face illuminated in a sickly green hue.

“What is that?” Mikey asked, leaning against the wall, curling in on himself and face scrunching up.

“The ooze from what you call the ‘oozesquitoes’ darling,” she explained, stroking the canister like it was a cat.

“Why?” He asked, frowning at it.

“Have you ever seen someone get mutated twice before?” She asked, looking over the rims of her glasses at him.

“No?” It took a moment to click in his mind and when he did finally realize what she was suggesting. “No. No you wouldn’t.” He said, his heart raced, his breath picking up pace until they were running in tandem. “You can’t be serious.” His eyes were fixed on the canister, vision tunneling. “How did you even get that?”

“Oh quite easily. Draxum was quite sloppy, left the little things everywhere, from there we just had to recreate the ooze.” Big Mama said, her grin growing with each word. “Now I’m sure we can come to an agreement that suits us both.”

Chapter Text

Leo had never feared Raph. His brother was huge sure, but he was a big softie who still collects plush animals and teddy bears. Raph’s room was clean, orderly, his comics stacked perfectly in crates. There was a princess peach poster on his wall, fairy lights adorning the walls and roof. Leo never had a reason to legitimately fear his brother. Even with how angry he got, Leo knew that Raph would never do anything to hurt them. Especially not on purpose. The very idea went against everything Raph stood for. But things had changed since the Kraang. Raph’s anger had grown, turning into something that was far less controllable for the terrapin.

And yet Leo kept pushing.

Leo liked teasing his brothers, especially Raph, it was easy to do. It was fun, and he never meant any harm. It was just hard to be genuine with his brothers sometimes. He never wanted this response though.

Leo’s back slammed against the wall, and he looked up at Raph with a grin, knowing he was winning this. Whatever it was. He felt like he was winning at least. Something changed in Raph’s expression though. The restraint faded, and Leo barely had time to react before a fist was aimed for his head. Some part of Leo expected someone to stop him, an orange figure to dart between them and distract Raph, pull him away. But there was nobody. Nobody was there to save Leo from the consequences of his actions. Leo barely managed to drop to the ground before Raph’s fist met his face, the wall instead taking the brunt of the damage. The metal crumpled under the force, a dent forming in the subway car. Leo looked up at Raph, face falling.

Suddenly his game wasn’t so fun. The vitriol in Raph’s eyes was beyond normal frustration and anger. It was hatred, violence.

For the first time in his life, Leo was scared of Raph. It was a feeling he wouldn’t forget any time soon. Raph blinked, shaking his head, and looking between his fist and the massive crater it had left in the metal.

“Raph-”

“I’m so sorry Leo,” Raph said quickly, face falling. His eyes shined as tears welled up in his eyes. Raph reached for Leo to help him up, but Leo flinched instinctively. Raph froze, mumbling another apology and walking away briskly. Part of Leo screamed at him to follow, to reassure his brother that it was okay. But his body wouldn’t move.

It had never been that bad before. Leo had spent all seventeen years of his life bothering Raph, riling him up, pushing his buttons. He couldn’t remember a time before their bickering. It was a constant. Before the Kraang it had been bad, sure, but not like this. The realization hit Leo like a ton of bricks.

Mikey wasn’t there. That’s what the missing piece was. The barrier between Leo and Raph. Whenever they fought like this, whenever it got this bad, Mikey was somehow always nearby, slipping between them and pushing them apart. How long had he been keeping them from hurting one another? How long had this responsibility fallen to their baby brother without them noticing? Leo brought his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on them and closing his eyes, taking in deep breaths. His mind conjured up the memory of speaking with Casey. Even when he talked about how badly he needed his team, he had assigned Mikey such a stupid role. Leo’s eyes stung, and his breath wavered, shaking as he exhaled, wiping his eyes with the heel of his palm.

He wanted his brother back. He missed Mikey, missed every facet of him. From Doctor Delicate Touch to the kid who still slept with stuffed animals and drank juice boxes to the guy that threw a building at the Kraang. Leo covered his mouth as sobs burbled out of his mouth without his permission. Shaking his head, he took in deep shaky breaths, waiting for it to pass, willing it to stop. He couldn’t break down. He needed to be a leader, now more than ever. Pulling himself to his feet, he resolved to look for Raph, to make things right.

Walking past the hollowed out subway train they used for their rooms, Leo stopped in front of the door to Donnie’s lab. A detour wouldn’t hurt. Right? Besides, Leo hadn’t seen Donnie leave his lab in what seemed like days.

Poking his head into Donnie’s lab, Leo was immediately greeted by chaos. It was weird. Donnie normally liked his room and lab to be orderly. Sure his desk was in a constant state of disarray, but that was expected by now. What wasn’t expected was Donnie surrounded by empty energy drink cans, empty coffee mugs stacked on the corners of his desk. Though the most concerning thing to Leo was the fact that there was exactly one bowl on the desk. Donnie had moved his coffee machine from its spot in the corner of his lab, to his working desk, and there was the smell of stale coffee wafting from the pot.

Leo had never seen his twin in such a disaster area. Leo’s room was messy, of course it was, he was Leo. He was the messy twin. But Donnie was the opposite. This just felt… wrong.

“Hey Don-ton, how’re you doing?” Leo asked apprehensively, voice wavering.

“Fine,” Donnie mumbled, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him. Leo could see his eyes were red and irritated. It reminded him of the purple game fiasco. The laser focus, the way Donnie seemed to be neglecting all other aspects of his life for this one task. It was not a time Leo wanted to revisit. Even so, Leo turned away, something catching his eye as he went to leave. There, hanging off a whiteboard that was scattered with half erased ideas, was an orange hoodie. Mikey’s. Leo paused, looking at it. Not once in Leo’s life had Donnie ever kept anything. Leo loved to give small tokens to his brothers. Raph had his organized meticulously, cycling them out, rocks and sticks traded for statues and hoodies. Mikey scattered them around his room, never throwing any of them out. Leo himself had a collection of gifts from Donnie and Mikey, but Donnie never kept any of that stuff. He never meant it maliciously, but he just didn’t like to keep it around. It was clutter, and Donnie’s lab and room were spotless. He didn’t like to bring in extra stuff that would clutter his spaces. This was the first time Leo had seen something like that in Donnie’s room.

Leo thought it would feel good to see it, but it was eerie. Unsettling. Leo took one last look at the hoodie, eyes lingering on it, before he walked back through the doors of Donnie’s lab, walking down the corridor. He passed Mikey’s room at a brisk walk, speeding up before he reached Raph’s room. Standing outside the room, he paused, willing himself to walk in, but his legs wouldn’t listen to him. His body wouldn’t move. He had to do this, had to make things right. Normally he could’ve left things hanging, let it boil over and calm down on its own, but this time was different. This time he had to make things right. Pulling open the door, he saw Raph collapsed onto his bed, his back shaking as he sobbed.

Leo was never good with crying. Whether it was himself or his brothers, he just didn’t know how to handle it. But nobody else was there to handle it, so Leo had to. Raph needed help, so he would just pretend to be good at it. Walking into the room, he knocked on the wall, tilting his head at Raph.

“Hey big guy?” He asked. Raph clutched the pillow harder and shook his head rapidly. Leo walked in deeper, sitting on the edge of Raph’s bed, avoiding his tail and reaching out. He pulled his hand back as Raph choked out another sob, but steeled himself after and placed his hand on Raph’s shell, between the large spikes on his carapace. Raph froze at the touch, and Leo bit back the fear he was doing something wrong. Gently he patted his brother’s shell, looking at him. “It’s okay Raph.” His voice wavered as he said it. “It’s going to be okay.” He repeated with more confidence.

“It’s not okay Leo.” Raph said, voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m becoming a monster. I can’t control myself anymore, I almost killed you, I-” Raph was cut off by a new wave of sobs.

“Hey, buddy it’s okay, we can figure it out. As a family. You’re not alone.” Leo said, trying his best to emulate all the things Doctor Feelings would’ve had to say. Clearly their lack of therapy was catching up with them, because when Raph finally looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and irritated, tears staining his face. “Besides, it would’ve taken more than that to kill me,” Leo said, offering a smile. Raph laughed and shook his head, wiping his face.

“I hate you,” He said, though he was smiling and his voice held no malice. Only amusement.

“Love you too Raph,” Leo said, smiling at his brother. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” He replied with confidence.

“... You think we’ll ever find him?” Raph asked. Leo didn’t need to ask who he meant.

“I don’t know. But I do know he’ll come home. Have faith in him. He’s more capable than you think he is.” Leo said, patting his shell reassuringly. “You wanna help me drag Donnie out of his room?”

“Is he still in there?”

“Yup.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Raph muttered, sighing and shaking his head. “Let’s go,”

Raph sat up as Leo bounced to his feet, backing out of the room, looking at Raph all the while. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, but gained his balance after a moment and meandered towards Leo. Leo led the way to Donnie’s room, their eldest brother peeking into the room. Eyes wide Raph stared at the mess, looking up to Leo before his eyes flitted over to Donnie, seeing his desk littered with coffee cups. Shaking his head, Raph walked into the lab, and wordlessly pulled his desk chair back.

“Hey! I’m working!” Donnie protested, Raph ignoring him and simply picking him up by his artificial shell. “Raph put me down!”

“No, we’re going to visit April and get some fresh air.” Raph said, voice leaving no room for argument. Donnie sighed and relaxed, back popping loudly as he gave up on fighting. Leo snickered as they passed him, trailing behind. They passed their rooms, and Leo stopped short in front of Splinter’s room. He glanced at the door, pausing.

“I’ll meet you guys outside okay?” He said, turning.

“Alright,” Raph and Donnie said in unison, Raph still holding Donnie by his artificial shell. Leo waited a few seconds, hesitating, before finally knocking on the door. A few seconds passed and he pulled the door open, seeing Splinter sitting on his bed. He was staring at a book, the cover splattered in paint. Leo tentatively walked in and craned his neck to see what he was looking at, but Splinter closed the book and set it beside him. The cover was familiar, spelling out “Mikey” in large orange bubble letters. It was his sketchbook.

“What is it, my son?” Splinter asked, voice cracking as he looked over. His eyes were watery and red. Leo had never seen his father so upset.

“Just checking in on you.” Leo replied, sitting on his heels beside his bed, picking up the sketchbook. He didn’t open it, instead tracing the letters on the cover carefully.

“Thank you. I’m alright.” Splinter sighed, offering a sad smile to Leo.

“We’re going to visit April. Donnie needed to get out of the lab for a bit. Do you want to come?” Leo invited, reaching out and gently grabbing Splinter’s hand.

“No, no I’m alright, I’m just going to go make some tea.”

“...Where do you think he is?” Leo asked, blinking back tears.

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Donnie had a lead but it fell through.” Leo said. “I think that sorta ruined him.” He admitted for the first time out loud. Somehow it was that, the idea of losing his baby brother and his twin losing himself at the same time that made him break. Tears poured from his eyes without his permission, streaming down his cheeks as he choked out a sob. Splinter’s face fell and he hopped off his bed, kneeling in front of Leo. Ever so gently, as if his son would break if he wasn’t careful, he pulled Leo into a hug, holding him close.

“It’s okay,” Splinter whispered, gently cradling the back of Leo’s head.

“I’m nothing without them,” Leo sobbed, shaking his head. “I can’t lose them. I need them. The team, our family,” He cried, voice muffled by Splinter’s shoulder.

“Oh baby blue,” Splinter sighed, voice filled to the brim with sorrow. “You need your team, your brothers, that is true. But you are still something without them. You’re my son. You are Leonardo Hamato.” He said, pulling Leo away from his shoulder, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. “We will find him. And we will heal.” Splinter reassured him, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well. Leo nodded, hugging his dad again, holding him tightly before finally letting go and handing him the sketchbook. “Go. Have fun, you need it.” He added. Leo nodded, standing up and wiping his eyes. “Say hello to April for me.”

“I will.” Leo nodded, smiling at his father. “Thanks Dad.”

“Of course my son.”

Leo walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He jogged to catch up with his brothers, sniffing and trying to get himself back in order as he climbed the stairs and ducked into the tunnels. When he caught up to his brothers, he waved to them and called their names, smiling as he walked towards them. Donnie was walking on his own now, beside Raph.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Donnie asked flatly, looking at Leo.

“It’s the same as yours asshole,” Leo replied, gently shoving Donnie as he walked by, smiling.

“I know but I didn’t mean that. Why are your eyes red?”

“They’re not.”

“Yes they are.”

“No they’re not, you must be colourblind.” Leo replied, grinning as they walked through the tunnels.

“Are you trying to gaslight me?” Donnie asked, narrowing his eyes at Leo.

“No, you don’t even know what gaslighting is.”

“Guys shut up, please.” Raph pleaded, shaking his head and sighing.

“He started it,” Leo and Donnie said at the same time, pointing at eachother.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it. We’re here.” Raph replied, stepping aside to reveal the ladder up to the surface. Leo shoved Donnie gently, walking past and climbing up the ladder, pushing the manhole cover aside. They popped out of the sewer and into the familiar alleyway, beside an apartment building. Leo helped Donnie out of the manhole and held him steady as he swayed. He could feel Donnie’s hands shaking.

“You good?” He asked, holding onto his forearm.

“Fine,” Donnie replied. Somehow Leo doubted that.

Raph popped out last, leading them up the fire escape, up to April’s window. Leo knocked on the window, waiting and seeing April’s face pop up. She grinned and threw open the window, stepping back and letting them in. They all slipped in, April collapsing onto the couch.

“Nice to finally see you guys again. Splints is letting you out again?”

“Finally,” Leo sighed, smiling at her. He saw her eyeing Donnie and Raph, assessing them and how they were doing. He sat next to her and nodded. “I know. I’m trying to keep an eye on them.” He whispered as Raph and Donnie found their spots, Donnie opting to sit on the floor.

“So any leads yet?” April asked after a very tense, long moment of silence. There was a piece missing in their dynamic. It felt awkward. Like a blackhole had opened in April’s living room.

“No. Nothing yet.” Donnie sighed, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. “I’ve tried everything.”

“Then I think it’s time we get help.”

Chapter Text

Mikey’s lungs burned as he sprinted, glancing behind himself as he tried to shake the beast behind him. It was huge, he could hear the footsteps as it stomped behind him. Mikey ducked through the trees, dodging through the large trunks and weaving, crawling under fallen logs. Fog lay thick all around him, clouding his vision, blinding him and making it almost impossible to see where he was going. The trees were all dead, not a leaf to be found, the dirt under his feet shifting as he heard the roar of the beast behind him.

Looking back again, he slowed as he realized it was no longer chasing him. Panting, he finally looked around himself. He needed to get home. His brothers would protect him. Trying to gain his bearings, he heard a low, menacing chuckle. Whipping around he looked to the source, and there it was. Emerging from the fog, a tall beast that towered over Mikey. It was all bones, barely held together by scraps of flesh and fur. Sickly thin, and yet Mikey had no trouble believing it could and would take his head off with a swipe of its gigantic claws. Its hands were huge, ending in sharp, bony points that looked as sharp as knives. Its eyes were glowing a ghastly green, and mutagen dripped from its massive fangs. It's mouth stretched into a horrific grin, the fangs shining in the moonlight.

“You think you can escape?” It said, voice rumbling from its mouth. The fur and flesh hanging from its bones shook and flapped as it laughed at Mikey. Mikey was frozen on the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe. He stared at the disgusting creature before him in terror. “This is the fate that awaits you little turtle,” It taunted. “Nobody is going to save you. Look.” The beast said, hand clutching Mikey’s shoulder as it swept it's arm out, presenting a view of the forest. The fog began to clear, and Mikey saw several familiar figures. He grinned, eyes widening. They were here. They would save him. They would help him.

The fog cleared and Mikey saw their features, looking to Raph first. His older brother looked down his nose at Mikey, face recoiling in disgust as he stared at Mikey, saying nothing, making no move towards Mikey.

“Help! Raph! Donnie! Someone!” Mikey screamed, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to get to them, lunging forward. They all recoiled in fear. Including Splinter. Stepping back, Raph shook his head, pulling Leo and Donnie closer. “Please!” Mikey screeched, pulling against the grip on his arm, the grip only tightening until it was painful. “I’m sorry! I need you! Please someone!” He called, watching April pull Casey Jr away, as Splinter began to usher the others into the fog, until all that was left was Draxum, arms folded as he looked down his nose at Mikey, shaking his head. As if he was pitying Mikey. “I don’t understand…” Mikey whimpered, looking back at the beast. The monster holding onto him just chuckled, a grin stretching across its gruesome patchwork face.

“Why would they help you? Just look at yourself.” The monster said, stepping aside and releasing his arm, revealing a mirror. Mikey’s jaw dropped as he saw himself. Chunks of skin had rotted away, leaving his skeleton exposed. He was missing a chunk of his shell, and his eyes were glowing a sickly green, mutagen oozing from his many open, festering wounds. Mikey screamed, covering his eyes and sobbing as he curled into a ball.

“No! No it’s not real!” He screeched, shaking his head.

“You’re a monster like me. Inside and out. Accept it.” The beast said. Mikey shook his head, refusing to believe it. He screamed again, trying to drown out the words of the beast.

Mikey flung himself upright, choking and coughing, bile rising in his throat, leaving a bitter acidic taste in his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Panicking, he felt his arms and neck, sighing with relief when he felt his skin still in one piece, pausing on the scar on his neck briefly before relaxing. He looked around, trying to remember where he was. There was hard ground under him, and the room was completely dark except for a single square of light.

Right. He was still imprisoned. It was a dream. It had felt so real though. This was the fifth time in as many days now, the same dream, over and over again, tormenting him. Bringing his knees to his chest he hid his face in his knees. His hands were shaking profusely, like he was shivering. Trying to distract himself he tried to think of his family. What were they doing? They had to be coming for him. They wouldn’t just leave him trapped would they? The monstrous figure in his dream couldn’t be right.

The door creaked as it swung open, revealing a large yokai, octopus-like as it slunk forward on eight legs.

“I told Big Mama. I’m not fighting again.” Mikey said flatly, turning away from the door.

“You’re not going to the arena.” The yokai replied, voice burbling and shaky. Mikey lifted his head in curiosity, looking at the yokai skeptically.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, already rising to his feet shakily. There was a large part of him nagging at the back of his mind telling him to take the chance to leave this hellish cell. The boredom was taking over, the smell of dirt and mildew was driving him crazy. He was going stir-crazy to put it lightly. A change of scenery would be welcome.

“To see Big Mama.” The yokai replied, watching him intently. Mikey swayed on his feet, vision going dark for a moment as he grabbed the wall to steady himself. When his vision returned he could see the yokai frowning with concern. Vitriol lumped itself together in his throat, anger at the audacity to be concerned but continuing to do this. The yokai offered a slimy tentacle to steady him, but Mikey pushed it away, shaking his head. He didn’t need pity. He needed help. Actual help.

The yokai led the way, and as Mikey exited the cell he swore under his breath. There, outside waiting for him was Gus, along with two massive yokai, one a large rhinoceros and what looked to be a boar? Warthog? Mikey wasn’t sure. The two were chatting idly with one another, Gus staring Mikey down. There goes any plan he had to escape. Mikey sighed and followed the octopus yokai down the hall. They went up two flights of stairs, Mikey almost blacking out several times as they climbed up, and passed through a doorway, into a lavish room. A table stretched along one wall, laden with all kinds of food that smelled so tempting to Mikey right now. His stomach growled loudly and he stared at it longingly as they passed through the room into the next hallway. It was just as ornate as the last room, much warmer and more extravagant than the clinical concrete hallway filled with fluorescent lighting. The lights here were on the walls, illuminating the warm purple paint of the hallway. There were name plates on the doors, one for Gus, one for a Bebop and beside it for someone named Rocksteady, and at the very end of the hall one for someone named Jenikka. But on the opposite side of the hall to jenikka’s nameplate, there was an unlabeled door.

They went through another door, and it opened into a large room. It seemed to be an observation room, one wall was completely made of glass, and there were large plush chairs scattered around the room, televisions broadcasting the fight. Big Mama lounged in one of the chairs, and beside her was the familiar masked figure who had brought him here, but on the other side was a woman. She lounged on the couch beside Big Mama’s chair, staring at Mikey with wide eyes. Her features were pointed and distinct, and Mikey could see behind her a large plush fox tail. Below, beyond the glass, was the arena, and the crowd watching. Mikey stared down at the familiar dirt packed ground, watching two figures dance around one another. His brain replayed the crack of the beast’s neck all over again without his permission, snaking its way into his head. Closing his eyes tightly, Mikey took a breath, steadying himself and shaking his head. He did what he had to do. There was no other option. Right?

“There he is! My little champion!” Big Mama called, breaking Mikey’s focus, his head snapping up to look at her with hate and disdain.

“Don’t call me that.” He said firmly.

“Oh come on darling, don’t be like that,” She said, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “I’ve called you here to propose a deal.”

“The answer is no.”

“You haven’t even heard the terms.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well.” Big Mama sighed. “I wish it hadn’t come to this dear, but I suppose you’re more stubborn than I accounted for. Kitsune?” She asked, looking at the fox woman beside her. The woman stood and walked to the back of the room, procuring a canister of the sickly green ooze that Mikey remembered from Big Mama’s last visit. She walked back and handed it to Big Mama.

“Grab him.” She said, rising from her spot. Before Mikey could react, the two large yokai grabbed his arms. Mikey tried to tug his arms away but they held him in place. Walking forward, Big Mama smiled. “Because I’m so nice, I will still offer my deal to you. You can refuse, but you really don’t want that.” She said threateningly. “Now. If you agree to fight in the arena you’ll have access to all the food and drinks you could ever want. I’ll give you a nicer room, along with my most beloved workers. You just have to fight. Once a week is all I’m asking. You’ll be the headline.” She offered, smiling. “Or. You can continue to refuse, and we can see how long you can go without food. And if you try to escape, I’ll get to see what mutagen does to a mutant.” She said, grinning wickedly at Mikey. “Now. Do we have a deal?”

Mikey looked at the two yokai holding him, and back down into the arena. His eyes drifted back up to the two figures still beside Big Mama’s chair. Mikey wanted to say no. Wanted to have faith that his brothers would get him out before he starved. But he couldn’t. He’d been stuck here for what seemed like forever, and he hadn’t been found yet. Looking up, Mikey faced Big Mama, and slowly nodded, ignoring the lump in his throat and the way his eyes stung.

“Wonderful. Welcome to the family little champion.”

Mikey had nothing to move, he was simply led to the new room, the unlabelled one across from Jennika’s. Stepping into the room his breath was knocked from his chest, looking around. There was a massive bed in the middle of the room, a canopy and privacy curtain surrounding the bed. The ceiling was high, vaulted, and the lights were beautiful, warm tinted wall sconces. The room was warm, comfortable, and there was a door off to the side. Mikey wandered to it, looking back at Big Mama, who nodded and gestured at the door. Behind her, the woman with the fox-like features laughed, a high giggle as she hid her mouth and looked at the masked figure. They seemed to exchange a look, but Mikey couldn’t decipher it due to the mask. Mikey opened the door and was greeted by a washroom. There was a large porcelain tub, and a fancy sink. It was spotless, and the mirror was huge. Mikey caught a glimpse of himself and grimaced.

He was smeared with dirt, his cheeks were hollow, his eyes had large bags below them. He looked awful.

Turning back around, he looked at Big Mama, and she grinned at him warmly.

“Enjoy, I’ll be in my office if you need me. Just remember, we won’t hesitate to hunt you down~” She said, tone far too cheery for the content of her words. Mikey nodded, watching her leave. Sitting on the bed he stared at the wall. He could’ve said no. It felt like he was betraying his brothers, his family, himself by saying yes. But could he really trust they would find him before he starved or lost his mind? Part of him really doubted that they would’ve found him. Would it be that bad though? He only had to fight once a week. That was pretty much what he had been doing at home for the past several years. Fighting the foot, fighting Big Mama, fighting each other, Meat Sweats, Hypno, Draxum before he started living on the surface. What difference did it make anymore? Sighing Mikey flopped back onto the bed, surprised at how comfortable it seemed. It was hard to tell if it was actually that soft or if he was just used to sleeping on the ground. Either way Mikey curled up, in the middle of the bed, letting his eyes fall closed.

Mikey opened his eyes to see the same misty forest as the night before. Looking around, he saw the beast from before, skin hanging from it's bones.

“You took the deal.” He said, voice rumbling.

“I did.” Mikey said, looking down at his hands. They were covered in blood and glowing green ooze. He didn’t want to know if the blood was his own or not.

“You betrayed them. You’ve got more guts than I thought you would.” The beast said.

“I didn’t betray them. I did what I had to. I chose survival.” Mikey said, shaking his head.

“So did I. And look where it got me.” The beast replied, gesturing to it's malformed skeletal figure. Mikey sighed and sat down. “What? You’re not going to run away?”

“What’s the point? You’re not going to kill me. You can’t. I can’t do it again. I can’t face them.” Mikey shook his head. The beast sighed and sat across from Mikey, staring at him.

“You’re giving up then?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Mikey scrubbed at his face with the white washcloth, the fabric being stained brown from the dirt and sweat caked on his skin. He felt so disgusting, desperately trying to scrub away some of the filth. He’d had what felt like an impossible amount of baths, trying to rid his skin of the dirt that seemed to be clinging to him. The first time he sunk into the water it had almost immediately changed colour to a murky brown tone. Sighing he looked at himself in the mirror. It was him. But it wasn’t. All at the same time. There was something off. He didn’t look as tired or gaunt anymore, but there was something off about his face and he just couldn’t place what it was.

The door opened with a creak, and Mikey darted behind the bathroom door, peeking out from behind it, hitting the lights. He caught a glimpse of who it was. One was the elegant, extravagantly dressed Kitsune, and the other was Big Mama’s assistant, her mask off for the first time he’d ever seen. Her skin was a deep shade of green, almost black, and there were yellow dots adorning her round face. Like freckles or stars almost. Mikey relaxed slightly, watching them.

“Come out come out wherever you are little one~” kitsune called, her smooth voice carrying around the room.

“Oh yeah that’s how you’ll get him out.” The assistant scoffed, crossing her arms and looking around.

“Cause you know so much about making friends.” Kitsune shot back. They reminded Mikey of Donnie and Leo almost. Bickering, but there was no real venom behind it. Nothing more than teasing. It made Mikey’s heart ache for home, it was like a punch to the gut. Mikey shook his head. It was too late. He couldn’t go back, not after this. Looking up again, Mikey made eye contact with the assistant, and her face softened. Kitsune followed her gaze, grinning as she spotted Mikey. “You’re a stealthy little thing,” She crooned, walking over and grabbing Mikey’s hand, pulling him into the room.

“Come on Kitsune, don’t baby the guy. He took down the Guardian, he’s fine.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“You’re such a bitch you know that Jennika?”

“And I regret teaching you that word.”

Mikey looked between them, frowning and stepping back from them. Part of him expected them to start truly fighting, and expected that he would have to step in to stop it. But they didn’t. It didn’t go any further from there.

“Anyways,” Kitsune said, shooting a lighthearted glare at Jennika before turning to Mikey. “We wanted to show you around, welcome you to the family.”

“She’s a liar, she has a prank she wants to pull and she needs you,” Jennika replied, smiling.

“Yeah, you have little hands,” Kitsune replied, smiling and laughing again. Her laugh was musical, warm. It was refreshing. Like the sincere version of whatever Big Mama was trying to aim for. It made Mikey want to trust her. Mikey looked at her outstretched hand and smiled, nodding and taking it.

“Okay,” He said, voice small and weak.

“Follow me.” Kitsune said, pulling him out of the room. Mikey looked back at Jennika, watching her tail them, her smile was warm. She reminded him of April almost. She had a warm energy that was odd for Mikey to associate with her. He shouldn't like her, she had been the one to kidnap him. But he'd been away from his family for so long now, he was desperate. He was willing to give her a chance. Kitsune dragged him out of the room and through the hall, her grin and excited energy was contagious, and for the first time in weeks Mikey was excited too. She led him through a labyrinth of hallways, through secret passages that were dimly lit and service halls that were sparsely decorated. Mikey tried to keep track of all the twists and turns, but he couldn’t.

She brought him into a kitchen, yokai everywhere, cooking food. Mikey looked at Kitsune and Jennika, frowning in confusion.

“What are we doing here?” He asked. Kitsune turned and urged Jennika to ‘grab the thing from the human shop’ and Jennika sighed.

“This is a bad idea.”

“This is a great idea you mean.” She replied, pulling a tube from Jennika’s hand, handing it to Mikey. The tube was tiny, yellow and blue. Mikey looked at the tube’s fine print and looked back at Kitsune.

“Mouth numbing cream? Like for the dentist?” he asked.

“What’s a dentist?”

“...nevermind. What do I do with this?” Mikey asked, looking back at the kitchen. Kitsune grabbed him, pointing at the other end of the room.

“Put this entire tube into that pot.” She said, pointing at a large copper pot on the stove.

“Why can’t you?”

“She has no training, and her shapeshifting is limited at best.” Jennika filled in, leaning against the door frame. Mikey looked at the tube again, a grin stretching across his face.

“I can get this in there.” He said confidently. Looking up, he studied the roof, looking at the rafters, and studying the floor carefully, plotting out a path he could follow. Tracing it with his eyes, he grinned to himself, looking behind him into the service hallway. He followed it, ignoring Kitsune and Jennika’s eyes on his back. Jumping, he grabbed onto one of the pipes, swinging himself up. He crawled along the low roof, keeping close to the pipes and being careful to feel how they creaked and whether they shook. The roof opened up to the kitchen, the ceiling much higher, leaving Mikey room to climb freely. He followed the larger vents and pipes on the roof, eyes flitting from his goal to those below him. None of the yokai chefs seemed to be any the wiser as to where he was. Mikey climbed past the copper pot, waiting for a moment where nobody would see him before letting go and landing silently on the floor, knees protesting as they bent to soften his fall. Mikey grinned and made eye contact with Kitsune as he approached the pot, uncapping the tube. Watching carefully he studied the patterns in which the yokai moved, switching from one dish or pan to another in a circular motion, back turned for a solid few seconds. He darted in, squeezing the contents of the tube into the pot.

Success.

Mikey darted under the counter, tucking himself away as the chef came back to the pot, silently snickering to himself as the chef stirred the pot. Mikey darted out as they turned their back again, running along the outskirts of the kitchen, ducking into cabinets as chefs passed him. Holding his breath he waited for another opening, darting towards Kitsune and Jennika tucked away outside the kitchen in the shadows. He stood, grinning at them triumphantly.

“You’re a natural.” Kitsune praised, gently patting his head and craning her neck to look beyond him at the pot.

“The orders are going out,” Jennika said, a mischievous smile stretched across her face.

Kitsune dragged them through the halls to the dining room, where they watched in the corner as fellow yokai ate the stew, many of them looking confused and some concerned as their mouths apparently seemed to go numb. Mikey hadn’t genuinely laughed in ages. It was nice. Kitsune held his shoulders, Jennika standing behind them trying to stifle her giggles. They weren’t like his family, but they felt like family all the same. Mikey felt like he fit in here. Like he could get used to it. Even so, something nagged at his mind as he went back to his room, something telling him he was a traitor. That he was betraying his brothers. He shoved it out of his mind, he had a fight to prepare for.

The fight was no less bloody and gruesome. Mikey loved animals, adored them even, but it seemed he was fighting all manners of mythical animals and monsters resembling them. This one was like a giant ferret with a scorpion tail and an insect-like face complete with pincers. Mikey could remember exactly what it felt like as it's spine snapped under Mikey’s foot. Remembered the pained screech it let loose as it collapsed to the ground, writhing below him. He sat on the end of his bed, covered in dirt and blood he hadn’t been able to bring himself to wash from his skin just yet.

Mikey looked up as he heard a knock at the door, instinctively standing and going on the defensive. It was Jennika, leaning in the doorway. She pulled her mask off her face and offered a smile.

“Hey.” She said, voice gently, as if she was approaching a wounded animal almost. “I’ve got something I wanna show you,” She said, standing up straight and nodding her head towards the door. “C’mon.”

Mikey hesitated for a second, but decided to follow her, ducking through his door that now had his name on it and into the overly extravagant hallway. She led him past the fighter’s lounge, and the elevator, into another room attached to the lounge. It was older, more dated by the carpet and wallpaper choice. It was barren, all the furniture covered with a thick layer of dust and dirt. The air felt stale. Jennika led him through another door and to a stairwell, beginning to climb. They passed door after door, climbing higher and higher, both of them panting quietly as they walked in silence. When they finally reached the top, there was a ladder about halfway up the wall. Jennika jumped up and grabbed the bottom rung, feet scrabbling at the wall as she pulled herself up. Mikey waited for a moment and stepped back, taking a running start at the ladder, jumping and pulling himself up. They climbed the ladder, Jennika pausing at the top to open some sort of door. When she pushed it open, cool air rushed towards them, and Mikey took a deep breath, relishing in the way it didn’t feel stuffy or suffocating. Jennika pulled herself through the door and waited for Mikey, holding her hand out to him. He looked at it for a moment before nodding and grabbing it, letting her pull him up. When he stood and looked around he realized they were on the roof. But not the New York City roof, the Hidden City roof. The city was glowing a shade of luminescent blue, like the city itself was alive. They walked to the edge, Mikey studying all the yokai and mutants below. It was beautiful in it's own way.

But it wasn’t home.

Jennika sat on the ledge of the building, feet overhanging the massive drop below, and Mikey followed suit, plopping down beside her.

“This is my favourite place to be.” Jennika said, sighing and taking in a deep breath. “It’s nice up here, away from all the commotion, out of the hotel.”

“It’s beautiful.” Mikey replied.

“But it’s not New York. Right?” She said, filling in exactly what Mikey was thinking.

“Exactly.”

“I used to live on the surface. I miss it sometimes.” She sighed, smiling wistfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, back when I was human.”

“You’re a mutant?” Mikey asked, looking at her.

“Yup. I’m like you. Only a little different. I was human once, I got mutated a few years ago, back when all those mosquitoes were around the city. I was taking my pet turtle to the vet.” She explained. “I never went home. I hid around the city, and Big Mama found me. Told me about the Hidden City.”

“What about your family?” Mikey asked, looking at her.

“I don’t know…” She answered, shrugging. “This is my family now. The hotel, Big Mama.”

Mikey sat in silence, nodding and looking back out across the city. His mind flickered back to his brothers, his dads, April, even the Casey’s. Hot tears flowed from his eyes over his cheeks without his permission, a sob bubbling up from his throat.

“I miss my brothers…” He whimpered, wiping his eyes as he tried to keep himself from crying. Jennika shifted closer, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him towards her, rubbing his arm gently.

“I know.” She replied. Mikey turned his face into her shoulder and something about it, that moment, broke something inside him. He sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to her, letting her warmth and kindness envelope him. The sobs came without his permission, but he couldn’t make them stop. All he could think of was his brothers, the fact he might not be able to go back. Not now, not after everything. Mikey wasn’t the same person he was when he left. How could he face his family and tell them that their baby brother, the one who was meant to be ever optimistic and happy-go-lucky against all odds was gone? That the Michelangelo they knew had died when he fought in the arena?

“I wanna go home,” He choked out into Jennika’s shoulder, clinging to her like she was his only lifeline.

“Shhh,” She soothed, pulling him away from the ledge and onto the roof, twisting them around so their back was against the lip of the building, before pulling him close and rubbing his back calmingly. “I know how you feel, it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll be okay.” She said.

“Hey,” Another familiar voice said softly. Mikey looked up and saw a familiar figure, but she looked different. Instead of her more humanoid figure, Kitsune looked more like a fox. She still stood on two legs, but instead of a human face, she looked like a fox standing on it's hind legs, dressed in beautiful red robes. She smiled, though it was less reassuring and more horrific as her lips pulled away to show a mouth full of sharp canines. She kneeled next to Mikey smoothly, looking at him sympathetically. “Homesick?” she asked Jennika. Jennika nodded, rubbing Mikey’s shoulder.

Kitsune leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, patting his head. It honestly only made Mikey more hysterical, reminding him of the affectionate pats Donnie would give him to reassure or calm him. Similar, but still too different to actually help. Mikey sobbed louder and clutched onto Kitsune’s robes, hands shaking as he held the fabric as tightly as his hands would allow him. She hushed him and gently cradled his head to her chest, exchanging a look with Jennika. Mikey’s sobs slowly but surely turned into soft hiccups, calming and slowing as his breathing began to match Kitsune’s. When she was sure he was winding down she began to hum a soft melody, a song long forgotten by the surface world. She rocked side to side, pulling Mikey along with her, the two of them swaying.

“...What song is that?” Mikey asked, voice hoarse and strained.

“One from my childhood, back when I lived in Japan. My foster mom used to sing it to me while she brushed my hair.” Kitsune replied. “Back when I had a name,” She sighed wistfully.

“Why don’t you use your name anymore?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day. It’s a long story.”

“Do you know what your name was?”

“No, not anymore. I used to know, but those days are long gone.” she replied, pulling away to cradle Mikey’s face. “I miss my family too sometimes. I can’t ever return to them, but maybe you can one day.” She said, smiling at Mikey. Was this what it felt like to have a mother? Mikey had never really yearned for a mom, he had his dads and that was enough for him. But he understood it now. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Thank you,”

Chapter Text

Raph wasn’t much of a baker, as evidenced by the mountain of burnt cupcakes around him. Four tries and it still wasn’t good enough. The first batch he’d used salt in place of sugar by accident, the next he’d forgotten they were in the oven. Somehow he’d managed to forget the flour in one batch. He just wasn’t cut out for baking, but he needed to get this right, even just once. Grimacing, he opened the oven, his other hand holding a box of baking soda at the ready, fully prepared for these to be on fire just like the last batch. However, when he opened the oven, all that came out was steam and the delicious smell of warm vanilla wafting to him. Pulling an oven mitt on, Raph pulled them from the oven, inspecting them. They were perfect. Laughing he celebrated quietly, placing the cupcakes on the counter before he inevitably dropped them. He’d never made cupcakes successfully before. This was a huge milestone for him. And yet it didn’t feel quite right. There was no younger brother who had criticized his cooking, no small orange ball of energy to celebrate way too loudly with him. Nobody to steal a cupcake before it had cooled enough to be frosted. Raph paused, sighing and shaking his head. Part of him was wondering why he was even celebrating. What was the point?

Even still, he waited anxiously by the counter for the cupcakes to cool, scrolling endlessly through all the photos on his phone. All of them were of his brothers, April, their dad, the pizza pigeon they’d seen that one time. He paused on one picture. It was one he knew their dad had saved in a picture book somewhere, stashed under a layer of dust. It was Raph and Mikey, both much younger. Mikey was signing the word hug. Raph knew there was a picture following that showed Raph hugging Mikey. Raph still remembered those days, before Mikey spoke. He had learned so much later than the rest of them. Mikey was five before he ever said his first word. Mikey babbled and signed fluently, but just didn’t speak. They’d all given up on him speaking and were content with the idea that Mikey was mute, and then one day when he was five Mikey just busted out a full sentence without even realizing it. Raph remembered being so proud, crying even as he hugged his baby brother, thrilled that he had found his voice. Raph missed Mikey’s voice. Wiping at his eyes he shook his head. No tears. It was a celebration, even if it felt a bit like a funeral.

Raph made the icing, carefully whipping the butter and the sugar together, adding splashes of milk until it looked right. He rifled through the cabinets, finding the food colouring Mikey had stashed, along with the vanilla extract. He added the vanilla first and then the food colouring, mixing a tiny bit of red with yellow to make it orange. There was no piping bag, and honestly Raph didn’t know how to use them, so he grabbed a butter knife from the drawer, and smeared the icing across the tops of the cupcakes. He finished them, putting them on a plate, leaving one off to the side as he cleaned up the many many messes from his prior attempts, shoving the pans and bowls and many utensils into the sink he’d filled with hot water. Grabbing candles from the pack April had bought him, he stuck one into the cupcake he’d set aside, and grabbed a lighter from the drawer, walking to their rooms, passing his own and Leo’s. Standing in front of the door he took a breath, steadying himself.

When he pulled the door open he was greeted by the smell of paint and stale air. There was a fine layer of dust over everything, but it was all exactly the way it had been when Mikey left. Sketchbooks scattered along the floor, a pile of spray paint cans in the corner, his hammock lay untouched, and the makeshift bed was still unmade. Raph picked a spot in the middle of the room, sitting on the floor. He set the cupcake on the ground, flicking the lighter on and lighting the candle on it.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Raph sang, voice nearly inaudible. “Happy birthday dear Mikey, happy birthday to you.” He blew out the candle, staring at it miserably. His eyes stung and watered almost painfully, but no matter how much he blinked it wouldn’t stop. Tears formed in his eyes and he couldn’t make them go away. A sob bubbled up from his throat, and out his mouth, several others following one after the other. Shaking his head, Raph scrabbled at his eyes, crying softly. Tears ran down his cheeks, staining them, eyes red and irritated.

Raph felt like a failure. He wasn’t able to keep Mikey safe. What could he do if he couldn’t keep his family safe? Raph wasn’t the leader anymore. Leo was. He wasn't the leader, and now he wasn’t the protector. His role was nebulous, maybe they didn’t even need him anymore. They were all growing up, but Raph felt like he was stuck in the same place he had been for the past ten years, trying to be grown up for his brothers, but now he felt stunted and alone. Leo and Donnie didn’t really need him anymore, and there was a chance Mikey wasn’t even alive anymore.

Raph froze at that realization. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Mikey might be dead now. Covering his mouth he sobbed loudly, shaking his head. He couldn’t handle that idea, the idea that he might have outlived his baby brother, that he’d never get to see him grow up. Raph stood, walking to the bed in the corner. He sat on the bed, tail curling around himself as he looked around the room. Letting himself fall to the side, he laid on the bed, curling up, clinging to the pillow and sobbing into it, tears soaking into the fabric.

“Raph!” A familiar voice yelled. Raph groaned and sat up, taking a minute to process where he was. Looking around he frowned, pausing. This wasn’t his room? It wasn’t until his eyes landed on the cupcake, still on the floor, the burnt out candle sitting on the top of it. He was in Mikey’s room. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep. Raph sighed and stood, holding the pillow to his chest. “Raph!” The same voice called. It was Leo’s. Raph stepped out of Mikey’s room, closing the door behind him, pillow still clutched to his chest. “Oh thank god, there you are.” Leo sighed, pulling his phone out. He poked at it a few times before holding it out, the phone on speaker.

“Found him!” Leo said into the phone.

“Where was he?” Donnie asked, sounding absolutely exhausted.

“In Mike’s room.” Leo replied. “We can call off the search.”

“You guys had a search going for me?” Raph asked, frowning.

“Well yeah,”

“Why? I was fine.”

There was a moment of silence, before Donnie spoke bluntly, cutting it off.

“After last time. We got worried.” Donnie said. “I’ll let dad know, just fill him in Leo,” Donnie added, hanging up abruptly. Raph was terrified for his sake. As much as Donnie liked to pretend he didn’t have one, his mask was slipping, and it was scary. Raph knew that Donnie and Mikey were close, but he seemed to have underestimated just how close they actually were. This was destroying Donnie.

“What’s up?” Raph asked, looking at Leo and trying to ignore the big brother instinct screaming at him to fix whatever was going on with Donnie.

“April is gonna take us to the Hidden City, she said she found someone who might be able to help.” Leo explained, gesturing for him to follow.

“One sec okay?” Raph asked, walking past Leo and ducking into his own room. He placed the pillow on his bed, meticulously made, between his favourite plushies. Lingering, he stared at it for a moment. “I’ll be back,” he whispered to it, as if he was actually talking to Mikey. “Lead the way,” He said as he walked out of his room.

When they finally met up with April, Donnie was already there, swaying and looking so pale he may as well have been a corpse. It was like he’d been replaced with a shell of himself. Leo and Raph exchanged a look and Leo silently walked to Donnie and clasped his hand on his shoulder, whispering to him. April grimaced at Raph and Raph shook his head in response.

“What’s the lead?” Raph asked, steering the conversation away from Donnie’s state.

“Follow,” She said, gesturing for them to come with. “So I talked with Sunita and the witches, I figured if anyone would know anything it would be them, so I talked with them and long story short I found out a name. This guy who goes by Leatherhead. Apparently he used to work for Big Mama, and he’s pretty tight-lipped but he’s apparently seen it all.” April explained, hands gesturing almost as fast as she was talking. “I figured out where he hangs, so we’re gonna go in, and convince him to help us.” April finished.

“That’s an awful lot of effort for it to have a possibility of going horrendously wrong.” Donnie said flatly, yawning.

“Shut up, go home.” April replied, looking him up and down. “You look awful.”

“Fuck you.” Donnie replied, rubbing his eyes.

“He won’t go. I tried.” Leo said, shaking his head as he steered Donnie along the alleyways and streets. They reached one of the doors to the Hidden City, Raph opening it and letting them all in. It deposited them in the middle of a bustling street, Donnie almost toppling over, Leo barely catching him. April got them situated, and started leading them, holding onto Raph’s hand so they didn’t get separated. They passed shops full of different goods, mystic or not, the smell of street food wafting through the air. Any other day Raph would’ve enjoyed himself, but he just couldn’t this time. He grabbed leo’s hand, the four of them forming a chain almost, weaving through the street until April steered them left down another street.

Bit by bit the crowd thinned, until they were the only ones on the pavement. At the end of the street was a small building, tiny really. There was a sign out front, and the lights were yellow and dim, one of them flickering ominously.

“That’s our place,” April said, pointing at it.

“Are we old enough to be in there?”

“Isn’t the age of adulthood for a turtle like eight?” April asked.

“Depends on species,” Donnie chimed in.

“Still. It’ll be fine. We’re not gonna do anything illegal I promise Raph.”

“I figured, I just don’t know how I feel about this. Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Raph asked, frowning as he looked at April. “He worked for Big Mama, how do you know he’s going to help us?”

“I don’t. But we have to try, right?” She said, turning around and grabbing Raph’s forearms. “We can do this. It’s for Mikey.”

Raph had to fight himself to not tell her that he wasn’t even sure there was a Mikey to be found anymore. Instead he nodded, looking back at the bar and taking a deep breath. “For Mikey,” He whispered.

The bar smelled like dust and old beer, from the moment he stepped foot inside. It was pungent and repulsive, but Raph steeled himself and looked around. There weren’t many people there, but one caught his eye immediately. It was a large figure hunched over the bar, a long scaly snout and webbed hands clutching a glass. It was some sort of alligator yokai or mutant, it’s scaly skin greyed out and covered in massive scars, ropes of irregular scarring all over the beast. Raph looked back at April and she nodded. That was their guy. Raph approached, sitting beside him. The bartender eyed him and asked gruffly what he wanted, and Raph asked for water in reply. The bartender laughed, a raucous and cacophonous noise that grated on Raph’s ears, before filling a cup with water from the sink. It was cloudy and looked chalky almost. Raph fought back the grimace, and simply thanked him. Raph pushed down the feeling of apprehension and anxiety about to choke him and turned to the alligator man.

“Leatherhead?” He asked.

“How do you know my name? Do I know you or something?” The alligator replied, voice deep and gruff. He didn’t look at Raph, taking a drink from his glass instead.

“No. I need your help.” Raph replied.

“What’s in it for me huh?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Damn. You must be either desperate or stupid to offer up anything. Don’t keep offerin that around these parts, you’ll get in trouble kid.” He cackled, shaking his head. “Another beer,” he called to the bartender, who simply nodded and grabbed his glass, putting it away to grab a new one.

“We’re desperate.” Raph answered, staring at the water that had still not cleared up.

“What do you need?”

“Our brother went missing. Someone kidnapped him. We need to find him.” Raph explained, voice hushed.

“How long?”

“It’s been two months or so.”

Leatherhead cackled and finally turned to look at Raph. “Kid, give up. If he’s not back by now he’s either dead or he left on his own. It’s too late.”

Raph’s face fell and he wiped his eyes. “Right.” He mumbled, turning away and hopping off the bar stool.

“Bullshit. We’re not giving up.” Donnie said, words beginning to slur together, his arm slung over Leo’s shoulder. “I still think we need to check the Battle Nexus.”

Leatherhead turned, head snapping to them and staring intently. “The Battle Nexus?” He asked.

“Yeah, why do you care?” Leo asked bitterly.

“I used to work for Big Mama, in the Battle Nexus. I may be able to help you after all.”

“Why? You said to give up hope.” Leo answered, tugging Raph towards the door. “Why would that change anything?”

“I know how the Nexus works. Big Mama’s been looking for her next champion for years, she wouldn’t have killed her next prospect.”

“What’s in it for you?” April asked, glaring at the alligator.

“I would do anything and everything to destroy the Nexus. If he really is in there, I get my revenge. Do you want my help or not.”

Raph, Donnie and Leo all exchanged a look, April stepping in to see. They all nodded in unison, turning back to Leatherhead. “We’re in.” they all replied.

Chapter Text

Mikey was beyond exhausted. He’d agreed to this deal sure, but it was wreaking havoc on his body. Intense training, even more intense battles, and all with an expectation to make appearances at Big Mama’s side so she could flaunt her “little champion.” He had grown to resent the mask he was forced to wear almost everywhere except his own room. Half the time he didn’t bother to take it off in his room anyways, he would just have to put it back on to leave again. The one thing that was saving him right now, that was getting him through, was Jennika and Kitsune. Jennika brought him food after his matches, and Kitsune would soothe his wounds with her magic, fingers ghosting over bruises. It never fixed the injuries, but the pain subsided for a moment, letting him breathe.

“Hey kiddo,” Jennika said, pushing the door open, a plate in her hand. Mikey groaned from his spot on the bed. His ankle was sore, his jaw was sore, and the room felt like it was spinning ever so slowly.

“Have you ever tried not hitting your head Angelo?” Kitsune said sweetly, a mischievous grin stretched across her face as she sat beside him on the bed. She pulled his mask off his face, discarding it to the side as she whispered softly in Japanese. Her hands began to glow with a warm red light, and she gently placed her palm on his forehead. The room stopped spinning and his head stopped throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

“Thank you,” He said, gently holding her wrist and leaning into the touch. The glow faded and she pulled her hands away, the pain now muted and having lost it's edge. Sitting up, Mikey thanked Jennika, grabbing a piece of bread from the plate and taking a bite. Kitsune leaned over and grabbed a slice of fried tofu from the plate as Jennika set it on the bed between them and sat cross-legged at the head of the bed. “I feel like I’ve been run over.” Mikey said through a mouth full of bread.

“You look like it too,” Jennika answered, grabbing a strawberry off the plate and popping it into her mouth. “You can’t just eat bread,” She added, shoving the plate towards him.

“Why not?” Mikey protested. “It’s good bread.”

“You’ll get fat.” Kitsune filled in, earning a laugh from Jennika.

“Shut up,” Mikey replied, smiling at Kitsune through the mouth of bread. Mikey could sit here with them forever, chatting, eating, bonding. It felt like home. A different home, but a home nonetheless. It wasn’t the same as the lair, or his brothers, but he was thankful to have them. And part of him was grateful. Jennika and Kitsune bickered, but they didn’t fight, and Mikey never had to stop Jennika from hurting Kitsune or vice versa. They were so kind to him, they treated him like he’d always been part of the crew, unlike Gus and other yokai that seemed to not exactly be a fan of the new addition to the crew.

This was their routine. Mikey would fight, he would win, and Jennika and Kitsune would meet in his room, Jennika brought food, plate piled with all their favourites, and they’d chatter away endlessly until Mikey fell asleep. It was growing on Mikey now, this little ritual of theirs. He kept it in mind while he fought, the idea that there was food and friends waiting on the other side motivated him, pushed him to do better, win faster. It kept the guilt at bay.

This week was supposed to be no different. Key words, supposed to.

Mikey breathed hard out of the mask, stepping into the arena, the lights blinding, the thick smell of copper and dust filling his nostrils, all too familiar to him now. The crowd was deafening, screeching and screaming at him. It was like a shot of adrenaline, it fired him up. He’d grown to enjoy the crowd almost. The safety of the mask and the outfit made him feel better about being in front of a crowd. They all loved him. Big Mama was right about one thing. The crowd loved a good underdog. The air was electric almost, alive with the energy of the crowd. Mikey heard the familiar grating of metal on metal and turned. Mikey could see a set of eyes behind the thick iron bars, reflecting the light, almost glowing. There were three sets of them, all glaring at him. He readied himself, looking to the sides of the arena, weapons laid out for the fights. Mikey darted to one of them, rifling through all the weapons, trying to find the right one.

Panic began to seize his throat. Where was it? It had to be here. It had to. It was always there. He needed it. What was he going to do?

Swearing under his breath, Mikey looked up, seeing the boar charging his way, it's many eyes staring him down with a ferocity. Mikey grabbed the nearest weapon and decided he’d figure it out as he went, diving out of the way into a somersault, barely missing the boar. He stood quickly, looking at the weapon he’d chosen. It was a chain, two large weights connected to either end. Mikey was almost positive he’d seen other arena fighters use it, but they’d all been much larger than he was, and they’d used it so skillfully. He couldn’t exactly finesse his way through this,but it was good enough. It was a similar idea to his missing nunchuks, heavy blunt objects attached by a chain. He could make this work. Mikey watched the boar veer towards him, swinging the flail around, trying to make it pick up momentum, but it was too heavy for him. Mikey swore under his breath, shaking his head and giving in, throwing the weighted end at the boar’s head, recoiling as he heard the thunk it made, connecting with the skull of the boar. The crowd went wild as the boar screamed and squealed loudly, screeching so loud it rose above the sound of the crowd.

Backing away, Mikey dropped the flail, giving up on using it. There was no point. He needed to get back to the weapons and get something else. A sword, a staff, something he’d seen used properly before.

In his mad dash towards the weapons, something in the stands caught Mikey’s eye. Something purple. His head darted to it instinctively, ready for disappointment. But some part of him held out hope. And he couldn’t believe it. There, in the stands, by the wall of the arena was his brother. Donnie. Just ahead of him were Leo and Raph, and some giant wall of a mutant guiding them through the stands. They were here. They were still looking for him.

Something lit up in Mikey’s chest, a fire that had long been suffocated since his time in the hotel. Mikey’s hand went to his mask, about to lift it, but just before he could lift it, the boar squealed loudly and charged, swinging its tusks at Mikey. Mikey screamed as the sharp tusks met his plastron, a loud scrape sounding from the collision. He was thrown backwards, and his shell hit the arena wall with a loud crack, a sharp pain emanating from the point of impact, his neck snapped back and straining as his head hit the wall. Mikey sobbed out, reaching up for his brothers, the pain making his head swim. The boar seemed to be far from done, walking to Mikey, its large cloven hoof stepping on Mikey’s foot, a loud snap echoing around the stadium. Looking around desperately, Mikey grabbed a handful of dirt, whipping it into the three sets of eyes on the boar’s face. It squealed and screamed like it had been shot, backing up and thrashing, spinning around wildly. Mikey tried to stand, foot screaming in pain the second he put any pressure on it. Shaking his head Mikey dragged himself to the weapons, grabbing the first thing he could get his hands on, a sickle of some kind with a chain attached to the handle.

The boar charged Mikey again, but this time he was prepared, throwing the weapon at the boar and watching as the blade sunk into its snout. The boar stopped but Mikey didn’t, pulling the chain taught and then ripping at it, the blade cutting through the delicate flesh of it's nose. Blood gushed onto the arena floor, pooling below the screeching hog. Mikey dragged himself to his feet, hopping on one foot towards the beast as it collapsed on the ground, squealing and screaming so loud it reverberated around the arena. Mikey cast a glance up to the stand, taking one last look at his brothers, before turning back to the boar, and burying the blade of the sickle in its neck, and ripping across its throat. Blood poured from the wound, like the most gruesome kind of waterfall.

Mikey felt sick to his stomach. He turned and began hopping on one foot towards the exit that was opening as the crowd cheered and screamed for him, celebrating this brutal massacre. Mikey felt dirty. Like he’d soiled his soul, the weight of what he had traded his comfort for finally weighing down on his shoulders. The weight of it was almost too much to bear, wearing on him as he reached the door. The moment he was inside, he collapsed to the ground, sobbing under the mask, not bothering to lift it. A loud crack sounded as the door shut behind him, followed by panting and quick footsteps. Looking up, Mikey saw Big Mama walking leisurely, and in front of her was Kitsune, more fox than woman, racing to him, Jennika beside her, mask still on.

Jennika slid across the dirt on her knees, Kitsune stopping and kneeling in front of him, both placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Jennika asked, her voice muffled and distorted by her mask. Mikey shook his head, afraid he’d throw up if he opened his mouth. Kitsune gently touched his mask, gripping the edge.

“Can I?” She asked. Mikey nodded, and she pulled it up, off his face. Immediately he felt better, cool air hitting his face and calming him somewhat. He didn’t feel as queasy either. The air was just as dusty and stale as the arena, but it was easier to breathe without the mask. Kitsune pulled him down so he was sitting properly, looking him over. “What hurts?” She asked, voice soothing and slow.

“Foot,” Mikey choked out, writhing in pain even as he sat down, pointing at his left foot. Kitsune nodded and pulled her hands away, murmuring softly. Her hands began to glow a soft red, lighting their faces in the dim hallway, casting an ominous shadow on the walls. Hovering her hands over his foot, her voice grew louder, more insistent. Mikey screamed as it felt like the bones were moving, trying to realign themselves in his foot. Jennika shifted, pulling Mikey closer, cradling his head to her chest carefully, trying to soothe him. Kitsune only stopped when Mikey screeched for the third time, voice giving out and turning into a choked wail. Big Mama meanwhile stood by, watching with a smile on her face. It wasn’t malicious by far, but Mikey almost would’ve preferred it if it had been malicious. This was just cold, indifferent to his suffering. Jennika let him catch his breath, trying to coach him to breathe in with her. She helped him stand when he finally calmed, supporting him on his left, while Kitsune steadied him.

“That was brilliant,” Big Mama praised, smiling.

Mikey had to bite back the words laced with venom that lay at the back of his mouth. Instead he settled for a glare as he panted heavily, trying to keep the black that edged his vision away.

“We need to get him to a doctor,” Kitsune said. “This is beyond my capabilities.”

“Not an option my dear, we can’t risk anyone finding out who he is.”

“It has to be an option. This could be permanent damage if we’re not careful,” Jennika answered, glaring at Big Mama.

“You forget yourself Jennika. You are in no position to make demands. Remember where I found you, how I brought you up from nothing. What I say goes, he can deal with it. Unless you’d like to see how easily I can ruin you?” Big Mama snapped, glaring daggers at Jennika, who looked down and nodded obediently.

“Yes ma’am.” Jennika replied. Mikey looked to Kitsune, whose fist was clenched, nails digging into her palm, clearly fighting back an argument. The two helped Mikey to his feet precariously, and Mikey watched Big Mama’s back disappear into the hall. She really didn’t care. She valued the spectacle over his well being. But his brothers were still looking for him. He needed out. At any cost.

Mikey had spent hours in his room, waiting for nightfall, for the traffic to die down outside. When he finally decided it was dead enough, he limped across the hall, looking frantically at either side, making sure nobody spotted him. He knocked on the door, waiting until a voice called from within. Slipping in the door, he hopped deeper into the room. Jennika was sitting on the couch, reading a comic. When she looked up and saw him she hopped up, frowning.

“What’s up? You should be resting.” She said, steadying Mikey as he swayed.

“I can’t. Jen I need to tell you something.” Mikey said, looking up at her.

“Go ahead.” She replied, nodding at him reassuringly.

Mikey took a breath, looking around before whispering. “I saw my brothers today. In the stands. They were looking for me. I have to leave. I have to go home Jen.”

Jennika was silent for a minute, before smiling warmly at Mikey and pulling him into a hug, cradling his head and squeezing him gently. “I’ll miss you kid.” She whispered, pulling away and rubbing his head. “Do you need help getting out? How are you gonna get out with your foot like it is?” She asked, voice hushed.

“I have a plan, I don’t need help, I don’t think you could help even if I needed it. But you could come with me. You could live with me and my family,” Mikey offered, praying she would say yes. The melancholic smile on her face said otherwise.

“Oh kid. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. This is my home now, if I left I wouldn’t be able to come back. I can’t leave them. As awful as it is here, I grew up in this hotel.” She said, placing a hand on Mikey’s cheek. “Go, go home kid, you need to be with your brothers.” She added, swiping her thumb over his cheek.

Mikey paused and lunged forward, hugging her. “You’re like my big sister. I’m gonna miss you.” Mikey said, voice muffled.

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll cover for you,” She answered as Mikey pulled away. They lingered for a moment, looking at one another before Mikey turned away and hopped back into his room. He wanted to say goodbye to Kitsune, but he didn’t know where she was. She tended to disappear and reappear at will. Mikey closed the door behind him and stood in his room, bracing himself.

He tried to remember that feeling, from the Kraang invasion. That spark of hope he’d grasped onto when he got Leo out of the prison dimension. This was just like that, only he was breaking himself out. He tried to grasp onto that spark of hope, thinking about his brothers in the stands, still looking for him after all this time. Mikey held his hands out in front of him, feeling a warmth spreading down his arms. He focused on the spot in front of him, grinning as he saw a bright yellow crack begin to form in front of him. Tensing his fingers, he began to pull and rip at the air, trying to pull the crack open further. It grew bigger, turning into a tiny portal. Mikey grunted as the warmth began to turn into pain, sharp and almost unbearable. Glancing at his arms he saw the yellow cracks forming on his skin, beginning to bleed as they spiderwebbed up his arms. Shaking his head, he refocused on the portal.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Mikey jumped, looking to see who it was. A familiar fox face was at his side, smiling as she gripped his shoulder. Kitsune. She made eye contact with him and nodded, beginning to chant something softly, holding both of his shoulders carefully. The cracks began to spread up her own arms, faint underneath her fur. Mikey turned back to the portal and channelled everything he had. He could do this. His brothers may not have been there, but he had family here too. The portal grew, pulsing with energy. Mikey could see a city on the other side, it was familiar, it was home. Mikey let his hands fall and turned to Kitsune.

“Thank you,” He said, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you,” he repeated, whispering.

“Of course darling. I’m proud of you.” She said, lifting Mikey’s chin.

“Do you want to come with me?” Mikey asked. Kitsune laughed and shook her head.

“Maybe one day I’ll go home too. But not today. I’ll find my way.” She replied. Leaning down she placed a kiss on his forehead, patting his shoulder gently. “Go.” She encouraged.

“I’ll miss you,” Mikey said, turning away, to the portal. He took a breath, then took a step into the portal, letting the warmth consume him for a brief moment, before he was deposited into an alleyway. Turning back, he waved at Kitsune before closing the portal. Mikey looked around himself, and up at the cloud filled sky, breathing in fresh air for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Time to go home.

Chapter Text

Mikey leaned against the wall, looking around. Something felt off. The smell of salt in the air was heavier than he remembered, the buildings looked out of place for New York, but Mikey shrugged it off. He was just remembering it wrong, right? Looking down he looked at his hands. They were a mess, covered in blood that dripped down his fingers onto the concrete of the alleyway. It was dark out, the moon illuminating the alleyway with its dim cold light, casting everything in shades of blue. His blood appeared inky black in the light. Mikey could hear the crash of waves against the seawall. Seagulls screeched overhead, instead of the usual pigeon cooing and cacophonous cawing from the crows. Mikey tried to steady himself, wondering how on earth he was going to manage to get from the street into the sewer, ignoring the gut feeling telling him something was up.

The street was illuminated by a warm orange light, the street was wet and the buildings seemed old, covered in worn brick and ivy that reached its fingers up to the night sky. First off was gaining his bearings. He needed to figure out what part of town he was in. Mikey pulled his black hood closer over his head, looking around before limping out and towards the intersection, trying not to be seen. Big Mama had eyes everywhere, he didn’t need to be dragged back to her. Not after everything he did to get away from her. His foot ached and creaked in protest, screaming at him to stop, but he didn’t bother listening. Reaching the intersection he stopped, leaning against a light pole to steady himself. It was a three-way intersection, and he could see a river on the other side of the street. Weird. Looking up at the street signs, he read them silently. Pierpoint and front street? He hadn’t heard of those before. Mikey liked to count himself fairly knowledgeable about the city, so why couldn’t he remember a river or these streets? Mikey shook his head and sighed, heading back towards an alleyway. He couldn’t exactly ask for directions back home. Even if he could while looking the way he did, did he really want to chance Big Mama knowing where their lair was? That seemed way too dangerous.

Exhaustion tugged at Mikey, weighing him down. He looked around and peered around the corner from where he came. Some rest would be okay, surely it would be fine. Hopping back into the alleyway he ignored the way his hands stung and his foot throbbed with a thick, dull pain, and slid down the wall, sitting behind a garbage can, tucked away in the corner.

He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them again, it was morning, and the sky was a beautiful, clear powder blue. The sun was beyond one of the buildings, a shadow cast over Mikey as he stretched carefully, yelping when his foot twinged painfully. Right. That. Mikey struggled to his feet, taking a look above the dumpster, the street didn’t seem so busy. Looking down, Mikey saw a sopping wet newspaper in the open dumpster. Grimacing he lifted himself and reached into the trash, procuring the paper. Some of the ink was smudged, and pages were torn and falling apart in his hands. But the title was still mostly intact. Mikey expected it to say it was the New York Times, maybe the post, something like that. Instead, it said “NHR” in large bold letters. The New Haven Register. Mikey felt his heart drop through the floor like it was being swept away in the river nearby. No. He couldn’t be that far off the mark, he couldn’t be that far from home. His throat felt like it was closing in on him, his hands going slack and dropping the wet newspaper with a moist slapping noise. Shaking his head he dropped from the dumpster, yelping loudly as his foot hit the ground. His knees buckled like a folding chair, sending him to the ground. How was he still not home yet? How was he further from the lair than he had been when he was with Big Mama? His eyes stung fiercely, persisting even as he blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears away. It felt impossible, a void opening where his heart should’ve been as he faced reality. Maybe he wasn’t meant to go home.

Mikey was the most spiritual of all his brothers, and it drove Donnie up a wall, but it helped Mikey. It gave him purpose and made him feel like he had power in such a shitty world. Believing in fate was important for him, but right now it wasn’t helping. He couldn’t help but think maybe he wasn’t supposed to make it home, maybe it would be best if he never went back. He’d killed so many, the blood of so many creatures who had no clue what was happening was on his hands. He knew what he was doing, but they didn’t, they were just trying to survive, but Mikey had a choice. Between choosing comfort and keeping those animals alive, he chose comfort.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to go home to his family.

Mikey wiped at his eyes, shaking his head. He wanted his brothers, he wanted his dad. But part of him, just for a moment, wondered if he could go back to Big Mama. Make an excuse for his absence, and get her to accept him into the family once more. Then he would have Jennika and Kitsune, he wouldn’t be so utterly alone and helpless. The part that scared him though wasn’t the fact he thought about it, but the fact that the only reason he dismissed it was that he knew Big Mama would make good on her promise to mutate him once again. It wasn’t because he wanted to go back to his real family more. Shame and anger at himself flooded his chest, fuelling him. He really wasn’t fit to go home. Mikey stood on shaky feet, holding onto the dumpster once more, taking in a deep breath, the fresh scent of salt water filling his nostrils. He had to get home, and soon. He could feel himself teetering on the edge of a major breakdown, and he couldn’t afford that. Not yet.

First, he needed a map or something, he knew New Haven was north of New York, but he didn’t know how far. He also didn’t know which direction south was. Mikey bided his time by sorting through the garbage, trying to find something useful. It seemed to be mostly cardboard and boxes decorated with large colourful fonts. He couldn’t find anything of actual use in the trash, but he persisted, even searching through the garbage juice at the bottom, the rank smell of rainwater mixed with rotting cardboard and rancid food was overwhelming, he nearly threw up multiple times. But the sun eventually began to sink below the horizon once more, which meant that he could get to work. He smelled awful, but that was okay, maybe it meant he could walk around with fewer people coming near him. Mikey walked down the street, head down, hoping that his clothes were enough to hide his face. A cloaking brooch would’ve been really convenient right about now. Looking around, Mikey tried to ignore the emptiness in his stomach, the echoing grumble in his gut telling him he needed food. He would eat when he got home. Passing by shop after shop, Mikey tried to think of who on earth would still be selling a map.

Cartographers still exist right? But what kind of store would that be? A tourism centre? Maybe, but he had no money to purchase a map and the garbage was a long shot, even if he found one it would likely be ripped. A bus stop? That seemed like his best bet for a map. It didn’t require him to enter a store or dumpster dive, and he could find one that wasn’t busy. As long as he left before the bus got there he would be fine. The best idea he had for finding a bus stop was to just keep walking. It was hell on his foot, and he was gritting his teeth the whole time, trying not to cry. Tears ran down his cheeks, dripping onto the ground as he tried to keep quiet. Eventually, he found a bus stop, and thank god for it. Mikey was thrilled to see a bench and a shelter. Underneath the shelter was a compartment, stuffed full of maps. Mikey practically threw himself onto the bench, holding his foot out as he panted silently, waiting for the pain to subside. He reached up and grabbed a map, pulling it open and scanning it in the street light. He cross-referenced the bus stop sign to find out where the fuck he was and found that he was much, much further than expected. There was a map of New Haven, and then on another page in the pamphlet, a map of New Haven and New York. He was so far from home.

He could never walk that far. Even uninjured. It was hours by car, and even longer on foot. Grunting in frustration, Mikey folded up the map and stuffed it into his pocket, resisting the urge to tear it up into confetti. Maybe that was another sign he shouldn’t go home. But where could he go? There was nowhere left for him. Mikey looked around on either side of the street and swore under his breath when he saw the bus approaching. Standing, he hid behind the bus shelter, out of view of the bus driver. Thankfully he just drove past, not seeing Mikey. He began walking, heading towards the river he saw earlier, hoping that maybe he could jack a boat. Something. He didn’t know anymore, there was no plan.

He missed Leo. Leo’s plans were usually a hail mary but he had good instincts, he could always get them out of a situation like this. Leo probably wouldn’t have messed up the portal like Mikey did. Shaking his head, Mikey banished the thought. Leo wasn’t there. Raph and Donnie weren’t either. The only person he had was himself. That had to be enough, he had no choice. He barely looked as he crossed the street, walking down the grassy bank towards the river. It rushed past him quickly. Swimming across was out of the question. Mikey wasn’t a strong swimmer, especially in comparison to his brothers, and it would’ve been difficult even for them. The river mouth opened a bit further down, widening into a bay. Mikey could see docks, ships and boats tied to them, bobbing up and down. There were several yachts and a couple of sailboats, a few houseboats even. They all looked tempting to Mikey. They would have somewhere safe to sleep, and if he was lucky, food to steal. Mikey limped to the docks, wobbling as they bobbed and swayed with the water underneath his feet. There was a gate with a lock on it, but it wasn’t very tall. It was like they weren’t even trying to keep him out. Mikey laughed and grinned, grabbing the fence and beginning to clamber up the gate. Even with his bum foot, he scaled the gate easily. The only tricky part was landing. His foot hit the ground, his knee giving out and sending him to the ground, yelping quietly. Standing up he limped towards the boats, looking around quickly, trying to avoid being seen. He didn’t want to have to answer any questions.

Now he had to pick a good boat. He didn’t want to steal from anyone down on their luck, but he would if he had to. He didn’t want to go near the yachts, those would likely have better security. Sneaking around, he made his way to the sailboats. They seemed to group together, which was perfectly fine by Mikey. Picking the first one he saw, he boarded quickly, searching for signs that someone was already there. He couldn’t find anything and sighed with relief, going down into the hull of the boat, looking around. There was a small kitchen, and he nearly sobbed in relief. Food. His stomach growled angrily and he threw all caution to the wind, searching the cupboards. There wasn’t much but he did find a jar of peanut butter. Good enough. Food was food. Mikey opened the jar, not bothering to grab any utensils or see if there was any bread or something to put it on. Mikey scooped it from the jar and began to shovel it into his mouth carelessly, sighing in relief as his stomach began to fill.

“God I missed this,” He muttered through a mouthful of peanut butter. Some part of him was thrilled, it had been so long since he’d stood in the kitchen at night scooping peanut butter into his mouth. He used to do it in the lair all the time when his blood sugar dropped at night.

Something crunched and the boat swayed heavily with a set of loud footsteps, and Mikey felt his blood run cold.

Mikey clamped his hands over his mouth, ducking behind a counter, and leaning against the wall. Holding his breath he felt his heart pounding against his ribs like it was throwing itself against his chest trying to break out. The footsteps stopped and Mikey’s eyes went wide as he curled up around his impromptu comfort peanut butter. He was found, they were gonna kill him and he couldn’t get away, not on his injured foot. Mikey chanced a glance around the cabinet, eyes immediately seeing a large set of scaly legs. He traced up the legs, to the figure’s face. It was some kind of alligator or crocodile creature, eyes glowing in the darkness that surrounded them. Mikey was frozen in terror, staring at the creature in absolute horror, unsure of what to do, his brain simply not working.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” The creature said, his voice deep and gravelly. Mikey gulped and shook his head. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He added, grabbing Mikey by the shell and pulling him up. Mikey screamed out as he felt something shift, thrashing and scrambling to get away like a startled cat. The alligator dropped his shell, backing up quickly, looking terrified himself. Or as terrified as an alligator could look.

“Ow, ow, that hurts,” Mikey muttered, not daring to move.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Mikey shook his head, taking in a deep breath.

“Can I look?” He asked. Mikey shook his head, backing away and slowly getting to his feet. “Who are you?” He asked, tilting his head at Mikey. Mikey hopped back and flipped on a light, getting a better look at him. He was large, his skin thick and gray, covered in thick ropes of scar tissue across his snout and chest.

“Who are you?” Mikey shot back, still clutching the peanut butter in his arms.

“...Leatherhead. Your turn.” Leatherhead replied, looking at Mikey cautiously as if he were approaching a rabbit in a trap.

“Michelangelo,” Mikey replied, not sure what was compelling him to give his actual name. No turning back now though.

“You! You have brothers right?”

“Yeah,”

“Three other turtles? The big one, the loud one and the…” Leatherhead paused as if trying to find the right word. “Blunt one?” He tried cautiously.

“Yeah, that sounds like them,” Mikey replied, a small smile stretching across his face as he was reminded of his brothers.

“They’re looking for you. They asked for my help finding you.” Leatherhead explained, stepping forward. This time Mikey didn’t recoil, instead looking up at him.

“Then how’d you get here? Do you know how I can get home?” Mikey asked hopefully.

“I do. But I don’t know if I can recommend it.”

“Why not?”

“New York is crawling with Big Mama’s henchmen. They’re everywhere, no doubt searching for you. I had to bail, I swam up from the harbour.” Leatherhead explained.

Mikey looked down at his foot and cringed. “That’s definitely not an option.” He said, shaking his head.

“There is another way. But I need you to understand. This is dangerous. She may find you again.” Leatherhead warned.

“I need to go home. As soon as possible.” Mikey replied, shaking his head. “I can’t stay here until it dies down.”

“Alright. Then I think I have a way to get you home. Into the city at least.”

Chapter Text

“There’s a truck you can get back to New York on. It comes from the north, bringing supplies for a store in New York, somewhere in Brooklyn. It stops in New Haven on the way there to drop off supplies at another store and stops here on the way back overnight. There’s a problem though.” Leatherhead explained, fiddling with his fingers. “It runs every two weeks.”

“Okay, so when does it come through again?” Mikey asked, looking at Leatherhead, watching him fiddle with his fingers.

“It just came back today if I’m right. You need to wait two weeks.” Leatherhead said, shaking his head. “I was planning on taking it up here, but I missed it.”

“So if I fuck this up, I’m stuck here a full month instead of two weeks?” Mikey asked. Leatherhead nodded. “Then let's make sure I don’t fuck this up.” He sighed. The two sat in the kitchen, talking long into the night, Leatherhead giving him times. Mikey pulled the map from the bus stop out of his pocket, and he and Leatherhead drew on the map, marking the stops the truck would make, showing Mikey the best route to remain unseen.

“How do you know New Haven so well?” Mikey asked, curiosity winning over him.

“I used to live here while I was human. Before I got mutated I drove this route, I’d drive from Canada, through New Haven, into New York and back again. I spent all my off time in New Haven, it became my home. I was mutated in New York and never left. Until now.” Leatherhead explained. “I found the Hidden City, and Big Mama.”

“...Did you fight in the Nexus too?” Mikey asked.

“Yes.”

“...Does the guilt ever go away?” Mikey said, voice small, cracking as his eyes welled up.

“Not so far. It gets better but it still hurts.” Leatherhead replied, looking away. “You have to remember that it was for survival. She didn’t give you a choice.” He added. Mikey nodded and shoved down the urge to tell Leatherhead that he was given a choice.

Mikey’s plan was going to be staying in the boat until he could get out of New Haven, but there was no such luck. Mikey was sleeping in one of the quarters, near where Leatherhead had set up his own sleeping space. Mikey felt safe again, Leatherhead wasn’t warm, but he was kind, and they got along well. Leatherhead seemed to appreciate the fact that Mikey didn’t seem to be afraid of him, and Mikey liked the fact they both knew what it was like being under Big Mama’s thumb. They slept during the day and plotted at night, ensuring the plan was polished. Leatherhead was going to come back to New York eventually, but he seemed content to just stay in New Haven until things settled down. Mikey on the other hand was anxious to leave. There were about twelve days until the plan went into action when things began to go wrong all over again. Mikey had been sleeping, enjoying the comfort of a bed, and the gentle back-and-forth rocking of the boat, when a scream sounded from down the hall. Mikey went on the defensive immediately, leaping out of bed and nearly folding from the shooting pain that ran up his calf. Ignoring it, Mikey whipped open the door to the cabin, looking towards the bow of the ship where Leatherhead had made his sleeping quarters. Mikey saw a human, standing in the doorway, frozen in fear as he locked eyes with Leatherhead.

Leatherhead looked like a deer in headlights, frozen and hunched over, a loud hissing noise emanating from his massive jaw. Mikey locked eyes with Leatherhead, the alligator staring at him before something appeared in his eyes, his gaze changed. Fear melted from his face, giving way to determination and resolve.

“Go!” Leatherhead snarled. “Leave!” His roar echoed around the small quarters of the boat, and though he was looking at the human, Mikey understood who he was talking to. Part of him wanted to stay, fight, something. But as he hesitated, Leatherhead hissed louder. “Get out!” the loud growl was guttural, coming from his throat. Mikey nodded, and signed a quick thank you with his hand, turning tail and slinking through the ship’s belly, melting into the shadows in case another human showed up. Mikey carefully picked his way through the kitchen, flinching and backing away as the door slammed open, and two more humans came running down into the hold. Mikey’s eyes widened when he saw the silver muzzle of a pistol clutched in the hand of one of the humans. Mikey froze, watching in horror before his muscles moved without his permission.

“No!” He screamed, immediately clapping his hands over his face, realizing he’d given away his location. He had to see it out. The man holding the gun pointed it his way, shooting without even really aiming. The shot rang in Mikey’s ears unpleasantly, the bullet barely missing his arm, the air heating up with the speed of the bullet. Mikey lunged forward, diving toward the humans. He swept his leg out, catching one of the human's legs, sending him toppling to the ground with a loud thunk, the other two humans looking at him. Mikey was hopeful the hood gave him enough cover. The woman who came in with the man ran for the gun, picking it up. Her hands shook as she pointed it at Mikey. Leatherhead hissed loudly and lunged, jaw gnashing as he dove in front of Mikey, the bullet aimed for Mikey’s head landing in Leatherhead’s arm. Mikey looked at both of the humans still standing, grabbing Leatherhead’s other arm. Dragging Leatherhead behind him, Mikey pulled him up onto the deck, jumping onto the dock despite the fact his foot felt like it was being ripped apart.

Looking both ways, Mikey saw flashlights and human figures approaching from their only exit. His face fell as Mikey shook his head. They had been so close. He had been so close to going home. Despair flooded Mikey’s chest, drowning him in hopelessness.

“Hide,” Leatherhead said.

“Where-” Mikey began when Leatherhead turned him around and shoved him off the dock into the water with a large splash. Mikey struggled below the surface, the freezing chill of the water stinging his skin, thrashing under the water, trying to figure out which way was up. He finally oriented himself, and popped up under the dock, spitting out what felt like an ocean’s worth of water from his mouth, taking in deep breaths as he treaded water, grabbing the side of the dock to keep himself above the water’s surface. He almost popped up on the other side to pull himself back onto the dock, when he heard hissing and scrams. A loud gunshot rang out, nearly deafening Mikey once more, and Leatherhead screamed out. There was a loud thud, and Mikey saw his claws grip the side of the dock, dragging his body across the wood until he sunk into the water. Mikey silenced the scream in his throat and took a deep breath, diving below, struggling to kick with his broken foot. Several feet below Mikey saw Leatherhead through the murky water, eyes open, blood colouring the water in faint clouds. Leatherhead shook his head, pointing up. Nodding Mikey swam back up, Leatherhead not following. When he popped back up from the water, he heard voices from above.

“Get boats in the water, tell the coast guard, that thing is not getting away!” Came a shout. “It’s friend too, hunt them both down!”

Eyes widening, Mikey lowered himself under the water again, looking for Leatherhead to warn him. But he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, Mikey had to reach the surface again for air. Popping up from the surface, Mikey saw that he was between several boats, looking around. He found the shore, and began silently swimming towards it, ignoring the way his lungs burned and his legs protested. Reaching the shore, Mikey grabbed the edge of the sea wall, his hands burning and tingling, sending shooting pains up his arms. He lifted himself up, water cascading off himself. The moment he hit the pavement he was up and running, darting into the nearest alleyway and hiding behind the dumpster. As the water began to dry, he shivered, shaking profusely as he curled up against the dumpster, trying to keep quiet. His hands and feet were freezing, even though it wasn’t actually that cold out. At one point he tried to wring out his clothes, but it didn’t do anything other than leave him sitting in a puddle.

The next several days were almost worse than his time with Big Mama. Nights were spent scavenging food from the trash cans, eating things Mikey preferred not to remember, and praying he wouldn’t vomit. Rancid foods, mouldy food, barely edible things. Mikey kept telling himself he wouldn’t eat until he could find safe food. But then his blood sugar would drop. His knees shook under his weight, and black ebbed his vision as he swayed and shivered involuntarily. Mikey felt unbelievably cold, but he was sweating as if he’d just finished training with Raph. Stumbling to his feet, he opened the trash can, recoiling at the smell. Digging through the scraps, he sorted the possible food he could eat into a pile beside the can. He found something near the bottom, and for a moment he was thrilled. It was a closed take-out box, and there seemed to be rice in it. Mikey opened it, ready to scarf down the leftovers, taking a moment to look. Something felt off about this. He looked closer and he froze when he saw it. The ‘rice’ was moving. It wasn’t rice. Mikey launched the food back into the can, stifling a scream as he wiped his hands on his clothes, writhing and shaking his head. Grabbing the apple he found half eaten on top of the can, Mikey booked it, ducking into another alleyway. Never again. He would never be able to eat rice again.

Settling down into another alleyway he ate the apple scrap slowly, forcing himself to swallow the chunks of brown oxidized apple, ignoring the thought that he had no idea who the hell was eating this before. Mikey missed his kitchen. He missed making breakfast, and eating peanut butter out of the jar at midnight. He missed Big Mama. She had food. Good food, food that wasn’t just bugs. Mikey shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his head like his brain was an Etch-A-Sketch.

Mikey wondered where Leatherhead was, how he was doing if he was even still alive. The alligator had been so kind in his own way. The boat had been so comforting, he missed the rock of the waves. Honestly, he would’ve taken anything over sleeping in alleyways and eating out of garbage cans. Though it happened slowly, the days ticked by, Mikey remaining silent through all of it. He couldn’t afford to draw any more attention to himself. So he wouldn’t say anything, he wouldn’t make any noises for anyone to hear. The day approached, and Mikey camped out at the stop the truck would be making in New Haven, watching it like a hawk the whole time. When the truck finally pulled up, Mikey waited, watching carefully. The driver hopped out, walking to the back.

When he opened the back of the truck, he got in and came back out, several pallets on a dolly carried behind him. The platform on the back of the truck lowered down with him on it, and he went into the store. Mikey made his move, sprinting to the truck, and frantically scrambling into the back, catching his leg on one of the pallets. He felt the skin rip, and ignored the feeling, trying not to shout out. He kept going, climbing to the back of the truck and hiding himself behind a pallet, just as the driver came back, grabbing another set of pallets for the dolly.

The truck ride felt like an eternity from when the driver shut the doors of the truck, to when they finally arrived in New York. Mikey could tell immediately when they reached New York, the familiar sounds of New York traffic, the constant stop and start of the truck struggling to get to its destination. Mikey never thought he’d be so glad to hear New York traffic and the many many people shouting angrily at one another. The truck finally stopped for the last time, the driver turning the truck off. A few tense minutes later, the doors opened, flooding the truck with dim blue light.

Mikey waited for the truck driver to turn his back before darting out between the pallets, and into the nearest alleyway. The alleyways in New York felt different, familiar. Like home. Mikey’s foot screamed at him, and now his shell was beginning to hurt quite a bit, but he was so close. He couldn’t stop now, he needed to get home. Darting between streets under the lamplight, he navigated, finding his way to a subway station. Looking around, Mikey slunk into the service tunnel, limping unevenly down the tunnel. He made his way through the tangled maze of tunnels, crossing subway tracks carefully. It took ages, but for the first time in months, Mikey knew exactly where to go, exactly how to get there. And the promise of safety, of freedom, lay at the end. So even though his leg burned, his hands stung, his shell throbbed and his foot was screaming for him to stop, he made his way to the lair. His resolve didn’t stop his injuries from affecting him however, and the closer he got, the slower he got, and the pain began to wear on him heavily. Mikey began to feel queasy, stomach churning unsteadily and his eyes beginning to lose focus. He was so tired. But he was almost there, he was so close he could almost taste it now.

Mikey dragged his feet across the floor, huffing and puffing as he finally reached it. He shoved the door open to reveal the lair. It had stayed the same in the months he’d been gone, everything was exactly as he had left it. Grinning, he gripped the wall, ignoring the black encroaching on the edges of his vision, stumbling forward. He followed the wall until it ended, going pillar by pillar, passing by his brother's rooms. Mikey knew exactly where he was going first. Shambling past Raph’s room, his own room, and Leo’s room, he reached Donnie’s lab, prying the door open.

“I’m busy Leo, I’ll sleep in an hour,” An exhausted, but familiar voice called. Mikey never thought he would miss that voice so much. Donnie paused in his work as Mikey stumbled forward, turning around. “Leo are you o-” Donnie froze, staring at Mikey with wide eyes. “Holy shit.” Mikey heard him whisper, screwdriver clattering to the ground.

“‘m back.” Mikey mumbled, smiling as his head swam. Nausea rolled over him and the black overtook his vision, feeling his limbs go slack before a steady set of arms caught him.

Chapter Text

Leo never really slept at night, he liked to stay awake far into the night, sleeping more in the mornings. In all fairness, humans didn’t tend to like giant mutant turtle teenagers, especially since most humans didn’t like human teenagers to begin with. But some part of Leo mourned the time he missed in the morning, breakfasts with his family, and training some days even. Leo loved sunrises too, and he missed them all too often. Today though he was grateful for his nocturnal tendencies. Leo popped his head out of his room when he heard Donnie scream. Leo assumed it was a nightmare, maybe he’d finally dropped and fallen asleep. More likely was that Donnie hurt himself welding.

“Leo!” Donnie yelled, popping out of his lab. Leo’s eyes immediately dropped to what he was holding in his arms, and Leo’s eyes widened as he realized what, or rather who it was. Leo froze, staring at Donnie wordlessly, the wind knocked from his chest. Tentatively he stepped out of his room, pointing.

“Is that…?”

“Yes, I don’t know what to do, Leo tell me what to do, he just passed out,” Donnie explained frantically. Leo could see him shaking vigorously.

“Okay, give him here Don, I’ve got him,” Leo said, shaking his head and jogging over, holding his arms out. “Alright, I’m gonna take him to the med bay, go tell Raph and dad, and then call April, meet me in the med bay after, alright?” He said, voice as level and calm as he could muster, trying to take the situation over. Donnie was clearly far too shaken and far too exhausted to be able to handle this like normal. Donnie nodded and carefully settled Mikey into his twin’s arms, making sure he was settled. Leo grimaced, immediately feeling how much lighter Mikey was than he used to be. He had always been able to carry his baby brother but this was far easier than it should’ve been. That was a problem for later though, Leo could feel something wrong with Mikey’s shell that would have to take precedence. Donnie lingered for a moment, before abruptly turning and running to Raph’s room. Leo jogged across the lair, into the med bay, shoving the door open with his shoulder and going to one of the two beds in the room. Gently he laid Mikey down on the bed and shifted him carefully, pulling the black hood away from his face.

“Okay, wake him up first,” Leo muttered to himself, rushing to grab their first aid kit. It was more of a trunk than anything but he’d need it, judging by Mikey’s hands. The web of scabs that spread across his palms and the backs of his hands was concerning at best. “Mikey, buddy you gotta wake up.” Leo said, gently shaking Mikey. A thought far too dark crossed Leo’s mind, and he quickly pressed his fingers against Mikey’s neck, pausing, holding his breath as he waited and adjusted his fingers. His heartbeat was steady and strong. Leo breathed out, relief flooding his chest. “Mikey,” He called, gently patting Mikey’s face.

Groaning, Mikey shook his head, eyes squeezing shut defiantly.

“Mikey, hey, I need you awake bud.” Leo replied. Mikey’s eyes opened slightly, and Leo grinned at him. “There we g-” Leo was cut off as Mikey’s eyes widened and he threw his arms around Leo. Leo heard Mikey sniffle as he tightened his grip, clinging to Leo. Blinking back tears, Leo laughed and clung to Mikey, making sure to be gentle. “I missed you too,” he said quietly, voice cracking.

“Mikey!” Raph’s voice rang from the doorway. Leo pulled away holding his hand out as Raph began running to them.

“Woah big guy, gentle, be gentle,” Leo laughed, stepping away, only to find that Mikey had grabbed onto his hand tightly. Raph slowed down and pulled Mikey into a hug, being so careful not to hurt him. Leo looked to the door, seeing Donnie and their father step in shortly after, Splinter’s eyes lighting up when he saw Mikey.

“My son,” He said, voice breaking. Raph stepped back, standing next to Leo as Splinter stepped forward, reaching out with shaky hands that seemed so unsure. “You’re home.” He simply said, cupping Mikey’s face in his hand. A sob escaped their father, and he lunged forward, hugging Mikey carefully. Donnie stood at the foot of the bed, watching them all quietly, swaying slightly. When Splinter let go of Mikey after a long minute, Mikey laid his eyes on Donnie and slid out of the bed, hopping on one leg to Donnie, pausing in front of him. Donnie closed the distance, hugging Mikey and smiling for what seemed like the first time in ages.

“I called April, she wants to know what she should bring,” Donnie said, looking up at Leo.

“I’ll let you know when I need it, I’m still not sure what I’m working with,” Leo said. Donnie let Mikey lean against him, helping him back to the bed, getting him to sit on the edge and settling beside him. Leo shooed Raph and Splinter away, asking for some space as he stepped up in front of Mikey. Holding out his hand near Mikey he asked “How’s your blood sugar, Mike?” Voice low and struggling to stay even and measured. Mikey took a moment and raised a shaky hand, placing it below Leo’s hand, and dropping it slightly. “Okay, Raph can you go into the third cabinet to the left, there should be a bottle, it’ll be white and purple and have a bunch of oranges on it, grab a tablet from there for me,” Leo said, holding out his hands, palms up. “Can I see your hands?”

Nodding, Mikey tentatively placed his hands in Leo’s. They rested open, palms up, but even as Leo held them steady and looked at them, they shook and twitched, almost violently. They were lined with intricate webs of scabs and scarring that formed neat squares and rectangles in his skin. Leo tried to gently grab one, turning it to examine the skin. As he did he pushed Mikey’s sleeves up to see how far it reached, Mikey recoiling and hissing in pain quietly. Leo pulled back, deciding not to push it, and saving the millions of questions he had for later. Raph handed Leo the tablet he asked for and Leo handed it to Mikey.

“Glucose tablet,” he explained, Mikey nodding in response and putting it in his mouth. Immediately Mikey recoiled, chewing it slowly. Leo stepped away searching and grabbing a water bottle, handing it to Mikey so he could wash the sugar chalk down. Mikey drained the entire bottle effortlessly, signing a thank you with stiff hands. “Okay, now I gotta look at your foot, which one is it?” Leo asked. Mikey stuck out his right foot, and Leo knelt down, pulling the wrapping and shoe off of it. It was swollen and bruised to all hell. Leo grimaced, breathing in sharply. Ever so carefully, he pressed down on the top of Mikey’s foot, Mikey immediately yelping and pulling it away like he’d been burned. “That might be broken,” Leo said, shaking his head and moving to the other leg, noting the large tear in the fabric. The fabric itself was black but when Leo touched it, his fingers came away with small flecks of congealed red blood. He pulled the wrapping and shoe off that foot as well, looking at the gash on it. It wasn’t so bad but he still wanted to clean it and keep an eye on it. For now though, he had something else he was worried about.

“Mikey!” A voice yelled. Everyone whipped around to the door, seeing April in the doorway, illuminated by the cold white light of the med bay. She walked over, dropping her backpack beside Leo and pulling Mikey into a hug, her hand cradling the back of his head. She quickly recoiled when Mikey’s breath stuttered. Leo shifted and frowned when he saw tears beginning to roll down Mikey’s cheeks, hiccuping sobs wrenched from his throat. April frowned and pulled him back into the hug, shushing him softly. “It’s okay,” She soothed, her voice careful and gentle. Mikey’s back shook with his sobs, and Leo stood back up, beginning to herd everyone else out.

“I need some space to work, can you guys wait outside?” Leo asked, already pushing them towards the door. Raph and Splinter lingered for a moment before walking out, followed by April who paused to say goodbye and let Mikey know they were just outside. The only one that remained was Donnie, still sitting silently beside Mikey. “Donnie, you too.” Leo said. Mikey waved at Leo, catching his attention as he wiped his face, signing that Donnie could stay. Leo nodded and stepped forward, gently wiping Mikey’s face. “You okay?” He asked

Mikey paused, taking in a shaky breath and nodding. Somehow Leo didn’t think he was being completely honest.

“Can I take a look at your shell?” Leo asked, tilting his head at Mikey, who nodded and carefully pulled the clothes off, wincing when he had to stretch out. Immediately Leo saw a crack in his plastron. It was a long, jagged crack, but it didn’t run the length of the shell thankfully. Leo bit his tongue, walking around the bed to see his actual shell. Leo’s face fell and his heart dropped when he saw the damage. A large jagged crack ran along Mikey’s shell, and near the top was a web of cracks. Leo could see the irritation and fluid leaking from the wound. It was infected. “Okay, one second here, let me see what I have,” Leo said under his breath.

Rifling through the supplies and flitting from one spot to another, Leo tried to figure out where the supplies were. His own shell had been cracked pretty badly when he fought the Kraang, so he was hoping they had leftover supplies. They had no antibiotics but Leo found their stash of saline and the plaster they’d used to repair Leo’s shell. Leo jogged to the door and popped his head out, looking for April and motioning her over.

“I need your help, can you try and get some antibiotic cream? Something over the counter?” Leo asked.

“Got it,” April replied, pulling out her phone and dialling a number. Leo slipped back through the door again, grabbing the plaster.

“Okay, your shell is cracked, and I need to clean it,” Leo explained, grabbing the saline. “I’m really sorry, this is going to hurt. A lot.” Leo said. Mikey nodded apprehensively, Donnie and Leo shifting him so he was laying on his stomach, Donnie holding his hand while Leo washed his hands and pulled a pair of gloves on. As Leo gently began to rinse the area, Mikey yelped and tensed up, holding Donnie’s hand tighter. Leo tried to move as fast as he could, but he needed to be thorough. Even when he was done he had to carefully pick out any debris, Mikey sobbing hysterically into the pillow. Leo felt awful the entire time, but he had to do it. Eventually, he was done, getting Mikey to sit back up so he could clean the crack in his plastron and fix it with the plaster. Leo was finishing up smoothing the plaster down when April came back, dumping a tote bag on the bed. There were a few tubes of antibiotic cream, and Leo thanked her, relief washing over him. They could at least treat his shell.

It took several more minutes of agonizing wails and sobbing, but Leo finally got everything in order. He put gauze over the crack in his shell, taping it down so that he could continue washing and treating it. Pills or IV antibiotics would’ve been better, but they couldn’t exactly bring him to a hospital. Even with a cloaking brooch. Mikey laid down on the bed, still crying, tears streaming down his face.

“Move over a bit,” Donnie said quietly, nudging Mikey, who listened and moved to the side. Donnie climbed into the bed, sitting beside Mikey and pulling him in, hugging him gently. “It’s okay Angelo. You’re alright, you’re home.” He said, voice softer than Leo could remember it ever being. Leo stepped back, deciding they were okay on their own, and slipping out to update everyone. When he came out, it wasn’t just April, Raph and Splinter. Casey Jr, Sunita, and Draxum were sitting with the others, everyone silent as their heads whipped up to look at Leo.

“He’s alright. He will be at least.” Leo sighed, walking past them. “Go get some rest, Donnie’s in there with him, he’ll be okay.” He added, walking into his room briskly, ignoring the looks the others threw him and shutting the door behind him quickly. Leo sank to the ground, guilt wrapping its vice grip around his neck, choking him.

They had spent months looking for Mikey. And they didn’t find him, he had to come home on his own, walking on a foot that was very likely broken. Leo was the leader now, he was supposed to make sure they stuck together, got through all this, and he’d failed. He failed Mikey, and now his little brother had what felt like a laundry list of problems to suffer with, all because they couldn’t find him in time. Leo shook his head vigorously, tears streaming down his face as he hiccuped and choked sobs down. Mikey was home but the road ahead felt so unbearably long, but he wouldn’t break down in front of them.

Someone had to be strong, and it should be the leader, shouldn’t it?

Chapter Text

Mikey stared at the plate of food in front of him, scratching at his arm to try and rid himself of the feeling of bugs crawling just beneath his skin. He was hungry, starving even. This was the first meal he’d seen in two weeks, he finally wasn’t living on garbage scraps. But the mere thought of putting that food in his mouth made him sick. Trying desperately not to gag, Mikey pushed the rice around his plate. It wasn’t real, he knew it wasn’t, but he swore that he could smell the scent of rotting food and see the rice writhing around. Guilt gnawed at Mikey’s chest, worming itself around his heart as he looked up at Raph. How was he supposed to tell Raph that the hour he heard him banging around in the kitchen was for nothing? That Mikey physically couldn’t make himself eat it. Even beyond that, Mikey felt embarrassed. It was humiliating to be so broken and so picky that he couldn’t even eat something like this. Even Donnie, the pickiest eater and notoriously a creature of habit would eat this, so why couldn’t Mikey, the chef of the family, take a bite of rice?

Logically Mikey knew the answer. But he didn’t want to admit it to himself. It wasn’t that bad, what happened wasn’t that bad, Leatherhead had it bad, and Jennika had it bad. All the creatures that met their demise in the arena had it bad. There was a term for the feeling. Survivors' guilt. But even that label felt wrong. It felt like taking something from everyone that had it worse. Mikey tried to find the words to tell Raph all this, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Leo seemed to pick up on the tension in the air, sliding between Raph and Mikey smoothly.

“Can you give us the room big guy? I gotta clean the broken shell,” Leo said, actively herding Raph out of the room. Raph reluctantly agreed, lingering in the door, opening and closing his mouth over and over. Mikey could see him try to form the right words, but none of them made it past his lips. Instead, he nodded at Leo and walked out of the room silently. Leo sat on the end of the bed, pushing his way into Mikey’s view. “What’s going on?” Leo asked. It was just him and Leo now, Donnie had been moved to sleep in his own room, and Raph was gone. Mikey felt less crowded like he could breathe easier.

‘I can’t eat it,’ Mikey signed, gently pushing the plate away.

“Why not? Are you feeling nauseous?” Leo asked, furrowing his brows inquisitively.

‘Kind of.’ Mikey signed back, trying to think about how to explain it, eventually just signing ‘worm.’

Leo paused, trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate, looking at the plate and mouthing a silent “oh.” He nodded, picking up the plate and placing it on a counter a few metres away. “What do you think you can eat?” Leo asked, gently pulling Mikey’s hand off his own arm, and holding onto his hand to stop him from disturbing the scabs anymore. Mikey paused, thinking hard about it.

‘Toast.’

“You got it,” Leo said, going to move away. Mikey grabbed his hand and gently tugged him back gently.

‘Don’t tell Raph.’ Mikey signed, staring at Leo.

“I won’t, I promise.” Leo said, grinning and holding out his pinkie to Mikey. Mikey stifled a giggle, locking his pinkie with Leo’s before letting him leave.

Leo was gone for about five minutes, coming back with a smaller plate, setting it down in Mikey’s lap, a single piece of plain toast on the plate. Mikey thanked him, picking up the piece of toast and staring at it apprehensively.

Steeling himself, Mikey nibbled at the toast, barely managing to will himself to eat it. His stomach growled angrily, egging him on to shove it in his mouth, all while his brain resisted even touching the food. This time it didn’t manage to convince him that it was rancid or a pile of bugs, but that didn’t make it any easier to eat. Leo was sitting on the counter, watching something on his phone. Mikey appreciated the fact he wasn’t watching Mikey eat. There was far less pressure on him. It took what felt like an eternity to finish the toast, but it was food and it was in his stomach. Good enough.

“I really do need to clean out that wound again though,” Leo said once Mikey finished eating, hopping off the counter and grabbing a bag of saline. Mikey nodded, and carefully lay on his stomach, tense as he waited. Leo pulled on a pair of gloves and took the gauze off the wound. Mikey could hear him breathe in through his teeth, a hissing noise that immediately sent images of Leatherhead to his head. Mikey shifted, grabbing the pillow and hugging it to his chest. He still had to find Leatherhead. Leo placed his hand on Mikey’s shell, above the wound, and began pouring the saline on the wound. The pain was almost unbearable, tears jumping to Mikey’s eyes as he tried so hard not to writhe and move too much.

“Almost done,” Leo promised, patting Mikey’s shell gently. “You’re doing good buddy, you’ve got this,” He soothed. Mikey gripped the pillow, almost ripping through the fabric. When it was finally over, Mikey was gasping for air, trying desperately to catch his breath. Leo stepped away, grabbing a bunch of gauzes and the antibiotic cream. “We gotta go get more gauze,” He muttered to himself, gently patting the wound dry and gently applying the cream before covering the wound with gauze and taping it down to his shell. “All done,”

Mikey sat up, shaking his hand to try and rid himself of the sensation.

Leo backed off, giving Mikey space so he could calm himself down, watching silently as Mikey flapped his hands faster, trying to get rid of the pent-up discomfort. When Mikey didn’t stop, Leo elected to give him space, leaving the room. Mikey spent the next half hour trying to calm himself down, still thinking a bit too hard about the hole in his shell. He couldn’t keep this up, he needed some sense of normalcy. Hopping up from the bed, Mikey crept towards the doors, hopping carefully on his good foot.

Mikey was well aware he shouldn’t be up out of bed, he knew very well he was supposed to stay in bed because they didn’t have a way to set his foot, or even tell if it was actually broken, but Mikey didn’t particularly care. He wasn’t going to stay in that room alone all day. So he hobbled into the belly of the lair, looking around. Nobody was there. Mikey made a beeline for Donnie’s lab, slipping in the door and looking around. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw an orange hoodie hanging on a whiteboard. His hoodie. Mikey smiled a bit and hopped on one foot over to Donnie’s desk, sitting on the floor beside his brother, who seemed to be working on something.

“You’re not supposed to be up and about yet,” Donnie said, though Mikey could tell that he wasn’t really chastising him. “How are you feeling?” He asked, turning to Mikey so he could see his response. Mikey signed back ‘so-so’ and Donnie smiled, reaching out and gently patting his head. “Good to have you back. I have something for you,” He said. Donnie pulled out a phone, Mikey’s phone. Mikey grinned and grabbed it from Donnie, thanking him excitedly. The screen was pristine, the screen had likely been replaced in his absence, and it was as clean as the day he got it.

Turning it on, he was greeted by his home screen, a picture of him and his brothers and April. What he wouldn’t have given to have this when he was with Big Mama. He was so stupid, if he had just put it somewhere secure he wouldn’t be in this mess. Kitsune, Jennika and Leatherhead wouldn’t be in this mess with him either. Mikey shook his head, setting his phone down and flapping his hands, rocking back and forth. It seemed to help. Donnie looked at him and paused, standing up and reaching for something, pulling it out from the messy pile stacked high on his desk. Sitting down, Donnie showed Mikey the pair of headphones, placing them on his head. Mikey thanked him, looking for the switch on them and flipping it on. Mikey connected it to his phone, turning music on and leaning against Donnie’s desk, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his knees. Donnie worked quietly, Mikey stimming while he listened to his music. Mikey didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, Leo came in, Mikey perking up when he saw Donnie’s chair swivel.

Pulling one of the speakers on the headphones away from his ear, he listened to Leo.

“Raph was worried about you, should I tell him where you are?” Leo asked, crouching in front of Mikey. Mikey nodded, pulling the headphones off. “Don I gotta talk to you about something later tonight, come grab me when you have a minute,” Leo added, looking at Donnie. Donnie replied with a nod, watching Leo leave. Leo had been acting weird since he came back, and Mikey didn’t know what was wrong but he wanted to fix it. Looking back over at Donnie, Mikey noticed him staring.

Mikey could see the questions running through Donnie’s head. He knew Donnie well enough to know that he was struggling to not ask them, to preserve Mikey’s feelings. But, as Mikey expected, Donnie couldn’t hold out.

“What happened?” He asked. Mikey didn’t need him to elaborate, he knew exactly what he meant. Mikey didn’t know how to phrase it. Opening his mouth, he tried to find the words, trying to force them out.

“Big Mama.” Was all he managed, turning away as he realized his eyes were stinging and filling with tears.

“...Were you in the Battle Nexus?”

Mikey nodded. Donnie’s face fell and he turned to his computer, opening a program and typing something in. He pulled up a video, and Mikey watched him pause the video immediately. It was an aerial view of his first fight, the massive crocodile-faced three-headed dog. Donnie pointed at the figure in black, dwarfed by the massive beast.

“You?”

Mikey nodded.

Closing the program, Donnie slid off his chair and knelt in front of Mikey, gently taking hold of Mikey’s shaky hands.

“I am so sorry.” He said, looking Mikey in the eye, as uncomfortable as it was for both of them. “I tried so hard, I thought it was you, I just couldn’t figure out how to get to you, I’m sorry.”

Mikey opened his mouth, words refusing to come out, mouth refusing to work properly. Instead, Mikey pulled Donnie closer, hugging him and burying his face in Donnie’s shoulder.

Mikey didn’t tell Donnie any more than that, but it seemed like he didn’t have to. Donnie knew what he wanted to figure out, and that was enough. The other pieces, the other people, he could share that later. Donnie walked Mikey back to the med bay, but Mikey froze in the doorway, staring at the room. Something wouldn’t let him cross the threshold. Mikey squeezed Donnie’s shoulder and looked at him, trying to convey that he couldn’t get in.

‘No,’ Mikey signed. Donnie paused for a second, thinking.

“Do you wanna go to your room?” Donnie asked. Mikey paused, nodding. He hadn’t been in his room since before he was captured. Part of him was nervous, but another part of him was excited. He missed his bed, the hammock, the familiar graffiti on the wall, and the dim lighting he set up. Donnie helped him hobble to his room, both of them pausing outside the door. Mikey opened it, pulling it aside. As he hopped into the room, he noticed a few things. The air felt stale, and he could smell dust that has settled on every surface. And, sitting in the middle of the room, on the floor, was a cupcake, bright orange frosting and a candle stuck in the middle. Mikey stared at it for a minute, not knowing why it was there or what it was for. Donnie seemed to know something he didn’t, walking over to the cupcake briskly and grabbing it.

“I’m gonna go throw this out, are you good to get settled on your own?” Donnie asked, gently placing a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, but not looking at him. Mikey nodded, thanking him and offering a smile. Mikey waited until Donnie left to hop into the room, sitting on his bed and looking around. The air may have been stale, but it felt like he was finally truly home. Throwing himself back, he flopped onto the bed, smiling.

Mikey yawned and pulled himself up to the head of the bed,

Mikey was on the dock again, standing in front of the ocean. The air was salty and the wind bit at his skin. Looking around, he tried to gain his bearings. On one side, blocking his path to the shore was Big Mama, standing on the dock, beside her was Gus, and on the other side was Jennika, her mask askew. Whipping around, Mikey saw between him and the ocean were Leatherhead, and Kitsune. Kitsune was holding her arm, blood dripping down it ominously. Leatherhead was bleeding profusely from two gunshot wounds. Nobody was moving or saying anything. Trying to find an escape, Mikey looked around, hoping to find a boat. There was one, bobbing gently beside him. Perfect.

Mikey tried to board the boat, but as he stepped on the ship, several figures materialized from the deck—humans, wielding guns. Mikey backed away, tripping over himself and falling onto the dock. Looking around again, he saw something else. On the shore, just past Big Mama, were several figures. His brothers, April, and Splinter. Opening his mouth, he tried to call out to them and scream for help, but nothing came up. Instead, he felt a wriggling in the back of his throat. Mikey gagged, looking down as he scrambled to his hands and knees. He gagged again, this time his stomach emptying its contents into his mouth. He threw up, and as he did he was horrified to realize that all that was coming out were stomach acid and wriggling and writhing maggots. Mikey wanted to scream, wanted to move away, but all he could do was continue retching and gagging as more and more bugs wriggled their way out of his mouth.

Mikey shot straight up, gasping for air and shaking his head. He whimpered in distress, looking around. He was in his room, but he still shook vigorously, the nightmare sticking to him like glue. There was no way he was sleeping after that. No way in hell. Mikey grabbed his phone, praying that it was morning so he didn’t have to go back to sleep. No such luck, it was only three in the morning. Mikey got up from the bed, shifting his weight to his good foot, hopping to the door and prying it open. Leaning against the hollowed-out subway, Mikey hopped along the length of the train, one thought in his mind. He needed Raph. Reaching his eldest brother’s door, he paused outside, apprehension curling in his throat. Reaching up, he knocked on the door, waiting for his brother’s response.

“Yeah?” came the sleepy answer. Mikey pulled the door open and leaned into the doorway. Raph looked at him and sat up, tilting his head at Mikey. “What’s up? You okay?” He asked. Mikey could see his brows furrow in concern and his stomach dropped. He shouldn’t be bothering his brothers like this over a stupid dream.

‘Bad dream, sorry,’ he signed, lingering in the door. Raph smiled and shifted towards the wall, patting the empty space on his bed.

“Come on,” He said. Mikey smiled and hopped over flopping into the bed and pressing himself against Raph’s chest. Mikey thanked him as he pulled the blankets over them both, Raph gently holding Mikey. “Of course,” He replied. “Sleep well,” Raph added, yawning and closing his eyes. Mikey’s eyes fell shut, listening to Raph’s breathing even out and letting it soothe him back to sleep.

Chapter Text

“No.” Raph said sternly.

“Why not?” Mikey asked, his voice raised even as it scratched at his throat uncomfortably.

“It’s not safe, you can’t go out there. Especially not with a gaping hole in your shell.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!”

“I don’t care. You’re not going. That’s final.” Raph replied, turning around.

Mikey balled his fist, nails digging harshly into his palms as his hands shook. “You can’t keep me locked in the lair forever.” He spat, voice laced with venom. Mikey could hardly contain the anger. It had been two weeks and he hadn’t been so much as allowed to poke his head out of the lair. Leo wasn’t stopping him anymore, it was just Raph that wouldn’t let him.

“It’s not forever stop being dramatic,” Raph replied, shooting a glare over his shoulder.

“It might as well be! You guys get to go see April, you guys get to train, and you guys just leave me stuck here with nothing to do! I’m not doing this again. I’m part of the team, treat me like it.” Mikey sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. From the sidelines Donnie and Leo watched the fight, exchanging a look between themselves before staring at the fight before them. Mikey saw Donnie nudge Leo, and the two of them stepped forward, Leo making a beeline for Mikey.

“Raph come on,” Mikey heard Donnie say as Leo wrapped an arm around his shoulder, guiding Mikey to the med bay.

“On a lighter topic,” Leo said, trying to change the subject, grinning at Mikey. “I talked to Donnie and he made something for you, I think the wound is healed enough to put it to work. It hasn’t been infected for a few days, it’s stopped oozing,”

“Gross,” Mikey said, laughing a bit, finding his words cut short once more.

“It was indeed gross, sit,” Leo said, gesturing to the bed. Mikey hopped up, sitting and waiting. Leo rummaged around in a cabinet procuring a curved piece of what looked to be resin or plastic. It was jagged at the edges but the top portion has a lip of some sort with a smoother shape to it, and it was the same colour as Mikey’s shell. “Ta-da! Shell prosthetic!” Leo said, holding it up proudly. “I took measurements for Don and he made it over a few days.”

Mikey’s face lit up, a grin stretching across his face as he looked at it in awe. ‘Now?’ He signed, flapping his hands excitedly. Leo nodded and circled around Mikey.

“Hold this,” Leo said, handing him the prosthetic, and getting to work removing the gauze off his shell. Mikey cringed as he felt the wound exposed to open air. It had become desensitized in the few weeks he’d been home, but that didn’t stop the feeling from being foreign and uncomfortable. Leo fiddled around with his shell, Mikey could feel him checking the large open wound and the mostly healed cracks webbing out from the spot. “Prosthetic?” Leo asked. Mikey handed it to him, trying to stay as still as was physically possible for him. Leo pushed it into place and it slid in with a satisfying clicking noise. Leo stepped back and into Mikey’s view, grinning. “It looks great,” He said as the med bay doors opened. Mikey turned and saw it was Donnie, and immediately launched himself at his older brother, hugging him.

“Did you already do the thing?” Donnie asked, laughing a bit.

“Yeah, it fits amazingly Don, you’ve outdone yourself.” Leo praised.

“Show me,” Donnie said, prying Mikey off of him and spinning him around. “Damn, you’re right it is perfect.” He said proudly.

“Okay well don’t let it get to your head.” Leo said, laughing. Mikey tapped Donnie’s shoulder and got his attention.

‘See?’ He signed. Donnie nodded and pulled out his phone turning Mikey around again. When He turned Mikey back around there was a picture of his shell on his phone.

“So these parts lay over the existing shell which keeps it from being pressed into the wound and reinjuring you or losing the prosthetic. That’s why they’re not as jagged. It’s removable in case we ever need to treat the scar and wound underneath it. That being said, you shouldn’t sleep in it.” Donnie rambled, barely taking a breath while he explained it to Mikey. “I colour-matched it to your shell for camouflage and missions, but I have the design saved so I can make a fun one for you if you want too,” He added, the grin on his face contagious. Mikey thanked him.

Mikey was so unbelievably excited to hear that he wouldn’t be sidelined forever. He just wished Raph would stop treating him like he was made of glass.

Part of him, if only just for a moment, wondered if Raph was right. If the surface would always be too dangerous for him. Mikey shook his head, banishing the thought and ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest.

“Can you come with me so I can test it out? I wanna see if it works properly.” Donnie said, grinning excitedly at Mikey. How was Mikey supposed to say no when Donnie was so excited? Waving at Leo he trailed behind Donnie, staring at the floor and moving a bit faster as they passed Raph’s room. Donnie herded him into the lab, towards the middle of the area, having him sit down on a stool. Donnie’s tests included a lot of different things. He pushed on the shell, and threw a ball against the spot, seeing if it hurt Mikey. It didn’t, it felt weird, Mikey felt like he should be able to feel it like the rest of his shell, but it just felt like brief pressure pressing against his shell before it went away in an instant. Donnie grinned and flapped his hands excitedly, Mikey hadn’t seen him this excited since the last lair games.

“Okay now, are you actually able to retreat into your shell?” Donnie asked. Mikey realized he hadn’t tried to duck into his shell in ages. Shrugging, Mikey tried, pulling himself into his shell successfully. He peeked out of it and grinned at Donnie. He popped back out and gave him a thumbs up. It felt a bit odd, he could feel the edge of the prosthetic, but it didn’t pop out and it didn’t hurt.

Donnie pulled the prosthetic out of the spot, gently applying pressure to it and bending it to ensure it was flexible enough to withstand all their usual activities. When he was satisfied he handed it back to Mikey. “Put it back in now, I want to know if you need help with it,” He said. Mikey nodded, taking the prosthetic and shifting it in his hands.

‘Which way?’ he signed. Donnie righted it in his hands, pausing.

“Wait here,” he said. He scurried off, coming back with a metal hand-held hole punch. He grabbed the prosthetic and placed the very top in the hole punch, struggling with it for a solid minute before it finally cut through, the piece of plastic falling to the ground. “The hole is at the top,” He explained, handing it back to Mikey. Mikey nodded and carefully felt around, tracing one of the cracks to the edge of the hole in his shell. He carefully slotted the prosthetic into the spot, pushing and hearing the click of it sliding into place.

Mikey turned to Donnie, grinning at him. “It works!” He cheered, Donnie, inspecting the prosthetic.

“Good job Angelo,”

‘Field test?’ Mikey signed, smiling hopefully at Donnie.

“I dunno Mikey, Raph was pretty strict,”

“How are we supposed to see how it works in action if I’m cooped up in here? C’mon Donnie, it’s for science!” Mikey tried. Donnie hesitated and Mikey knew he had him. Donnie sighed and nodded.

“Lead the way.”

Mikey led Donnie through the maze of tunnels, still remembering exactly where and how to get to the spot. They reached the right spot and Mikey shoved the manhole cover out of the way, popping up and helping Donnie up after him, shoving the heavy manhole cover back where it belonged. Grabbing Donnie’s hand, he pulled him into the alleyway. Mikey immediately began scaling the fire escape, ignoring the discomfort in his foot. Donnie called after Mikey, before sighing and giving in, scaling the building with his brother. Mikey reached the top and jumped to try and reach the lip of the building. He grabbed on but his hands slipped and he fell back down, his balance thrown off and almost sending him over the railing. Donnie yelped and grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

“Okay let’s not fall off a building. Raph would kill me.” He said. Mikey nodded, looking up at the top of the building.

Mikey nodded and Donnie knelt down, cupping his hands above his knee. Mikey understood what he was doing and stepped onto his hand, reaching up as Donnie pushed him up, giving him more leverage. Mikey was able to get a better hold on the edge, pulling himself up as his hands shook uncontrollably, feet scrabbling for purchase on the side of the building. With a larger pull, he heaved himself over the lip of the building, rolling onto the building. The gravel felt weird against the prosthetic. Mikey struggled to his feet, watching as Donnie scaled the stretch of wall with ease. A pit opened in his stomach, filled with broiling jealousy that made him feel sick. Mikey turned his attention to the rest of the roof. There were spots where the gravel was displaced, Mikey retraced every bit, remembering every detail of his fight with Jennika. It was so long ago, but it was burned into his mind like a hot brand. Mikey looked down at his hands, watching them shake, the jagged scars that crossed over them methodically, and it was hard to not resent her.

He knew it wasn’t her fault. She was following orders. But some ugly part of him that lived deep in his gut was angry, bubbling and foaming with rage and resentment. And envy. Mikey didn’t want to be envious of her, of all his brothers, but he couldn’t help but wish it had happened to literally anyone else. Mikey wasn’t sure he could handle it. He was out but now he had consequences to live with. Permanent consequences. A hand on his shoulder jolted Mikey back into his body, ripping him from his thoughts.

“You sure you’re okay to be here Mikey?” Donnie asked. Mikey nodded, stepping towards the billboard. There, perched on the top of it was a larger-than-usual crow, watching silently. Mikey waved at it and it cawed back in response, ruffling its feathers and tilting its head at Mikey. Walking under the billboard, Mikey found all his paints, grabbing one of them to start tossing to Donnie to shove in the backpack. Part of him wanted to stay and paint all night. But as he held the can his tremors began to get worse. Beginning to toss them to Donnie just behind him, Mikey began scooping up the paint cans, blinking rapidly. He wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t. It felt like if he did he would be proving Raph right.

They cleaned up all the cans of paint, Donnie quietly staring at the billboard as they worked, in all it was maybe three minutes but the longer Mikey lingered the less he wanted to be there. The tremors in his hands had him dropping paint cans and nozzles, unable to control his own hands. Handing the last can to Donnie he sighed, stepping back and looking at the billboard. It was unfinished, and Mikey honestly wasn’t sure if he’d ever finish it. Walking back under the billboard he looked up at the art. The sketch was faded and invisible in some spots, and the flat colours on the blue shell and the rat were peeling up. There was no point in finishing it. He’d have to start from scratch, and how could he do that when his hands shook so much he couldn’t even keep hold of a spray paint can?

“You okay?” Donnie asked.

‘Fine.’ Mikey signed back, holding his head low and walking to the edge of the building. Hopping down to the fire escape he bit back a yelp as his foot hit the rusted metal. Donnie hopped down beside him silently, leading the way down the fire escape. They paused in the alleyway, Mikey leaning against the brick wall of the building. They stood in silence, Mikey waiting for the pain to subside so he could just go home.

“Over here,” A voice said nearby. Mikey looked up in terror, it sounded familiar. Not in a good way. Donnie froze, both of them holding their breath. The source of the voice rounded the corner and Mikey felt his heart stutter, stopping for just a moment. Gus, hackles raised as he looked at them. “Found him!” He yelled.

“Mikey run!” Donnie said, grabbing something from his shell quickly and pressing a button on top, his bo staff extending out and landing in his hands. Mikey didn’t hesitate, launching himself towards the back of the alleyway, and hopping the fence, ignoring the way his foot screamed for him to stop. Sprinting through the alley, he ran across the street, zigzagging through the alleyways, trying to throw them off while he still could. Mikey sprinted until he couldn’t anymore, running into a dead end and looking around. He threw himself beside a garbage can, retreating into his shell, peeking out at the alleyway, praying nobody would find him here. Waiting with bated breath, he hardly dared to blink. It was several minutes until he saw anything. Feet approached him silently, stopping in front of his shell. Crouching down, Mikey saw the familiar bone-white and blood-red mask.

Jennika.

Chapter Text

Mikey poked his head out of his shell, face contorted in horror as he looked at her. Fear gripped his heart with its icy grip, strangling him as his chest heaved, gasping for breath. He couldn’t move, his limbs wouldn’t listen to him, and all he could do was sit there, watching in fear, a thousand scenarios running through his mind, every single one ending with him back with Big Mama, and not his brothers.

Jennika paused, crouching down towards him. She pulled her mask off, letting it hit the concrete with a clatter. She looked in awe, pausing before a smile graced her face.

“Shh, it’s okay. I won’t take you back,” She said. “I missed you.” She said, gently pulling him into a hug. Mikey relaxed, hugging her tightly.

“I miss you too,” Mikey mumbled back, squeezing her before letting her pull back. She cradled Mikey’s face in her hands, swiping her thumb over his cheek.

“Wait here for five minutes. Then run. Go east, I’ll take them west. They won’t even know you were here.”

“What about my brother?” Mikey asked, mind racing back to Donnie.

“I’ll go get Gus. Okay?” She said, nodding. “I’ll lead him away from your brother. Take care of each other, yeah?”

“I promise,” Mikey replied, gently grabbing onto her wrist. “Visit me?”

“If I can kiddo,” She answered, smiling at him kindly, patting his cheek affectionately. Grabbing her mask, she stood once more, placing it back on her face and taking one last look at Mikey, pausing before she ran out of the alleyway. Mikey listened, holding his breath as he waited. “No sign of him there. I think he headed west.” Jennika replied voice raised. Mikey heard the others agree, still sitting beside the garbage. Waiting until he was sure nobody could hear him, he whispered a small thank you to her, the world, whoever or whatever just saved his ass.

Waiting felt like torture to Mikey, but he waited, listening to make sure nobody was nearby when he finally stood, hand shaking as he pulled himself up using the garbage can. Mikey looked around, gingerly stepping out of the alleyway. Looking around Mikey tried to find a manhole, finding one fairly easily. He waited for the road to clear, pulling it up as his arms trembled, barely able to scoot it across the concrete enough to move it. Mikey slipped into the sewer, pulling the manhole back into place. Setting off back towards where he last saw Donnie, Mikey texted his brother anxiously, trying to get ahold of him as anxiety screamed in his head. His brain was convinced Donnie was about to go through what Mikey had just gone through, and the thought of his brother going through that because of Mikey was almost as bad as the thought of going back to Big Mama

Mikey’s phone chimed and he looked at it, relief washing over him when he saw it was from Donnie. Mikey texted back quickly telling him to meet him at their nearest crossroads. Mikey set off at a run, ignoring the way his foot felt off, like the bones were misplaced. Picking up speed he approached the spot, seeing Donnie already there, leaning against his bo staff. Mikey threw himself at his brother, nearly sobbing with relief, squeezing him tightly. Whispering a soft thank you he thanked every force or deity he could, burying his face in Donnie’s shoulder. Donnie laughed quietly, gently patting Mikey’s back.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Mikey asked, leaning back to look at his brother.

“I’m fine Angelo,” he reassured, patting Mikey’s head. “You ready to get home?” He asked as Mikey finally loosened his grip.

Mikey nodded. Donnie looped his arm around Mikey’s shoulder, the two of them walking in silence toward the lair. Mikey was scared, but mostly disappointed in himself. He had fought Raph so hard, only to end up wrong. Again. It felt like he always was, like he could never be right about something. Part of him wondered if he’d ever be able to be on the surface again. He couldn’t let this be his last try.

Sure enough, Raph was waiting for them when they got back, Donnie admitting he had texted Raph about what had happened. Mikey didn’t even bother to argue this time, storming into his room, anger stewing deep in his chest.

Mikey knew it wasn’t safe, he was well aware of it. But something kept pulling him back. He needed fresh air, he needed time alone. Mikey loved his brothers dearly, but Mikey also valued time alone. Raph was overbearing even before everything had happened, but now he was about ten times worse. Leo had changed too, he seemed to be slower to joke with Mikey, their competitions had suspiciously been going Mikey’s way and at first, it had been nice but now it was just frustrating for Mikey. He didn’t want to win because Leo was too scared to hurt him, he wanted to win because he had worked for it. Donnie had changed too. Donnie was nicer, he was more touchy with Mikey, and it all felt wrong. Nothing felt like home anymore. Mikey had been spending time with their dad, watching Splinter’s stupid shows to escape his brothers and their coddling. Mikey wasn’t made of fine china, he was just like them. And he would have to prove it to them.

Slipping out of the manhole, Mikey looked up at the building, pausing for a minute. He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head, shadowing his face before he shoved the manhole back into the right spot and began to scale the fire escape. When he reached the top he launched himself up, grabbing the ledge. His arms shook fiercely, and he almost let go of the building’s edge, but he managed to keep hold long enough to swing himself over the edge. He landed with a soft thud, and he quickly scrambled up to his feet. Looking at his hands he sighed and shook his head, looking at the billboard. There, on the top, was Robert, perched and watching him.

“Hey,” Mikey said, looking up at the bird. The bird hopped off the billboard, gliding down and hitting the roof with a solid thud.

“You’re back.” Robert said, voice hoarse.

“I am, I need your help.” Mikey said, crouching in front of Robert.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll get you a burger.”

“A whole burger? With cheese?”

“Yes. All yours, if you help me.” Mikey said.

“I’m in, whaddya need?” Robert asked, tilting his head at Mikey.

Mikey cleared his throat, sitting on the gravel. “I need you to find someone for me.”

“This city is huge, how am I supposed to find so-”

“He’s a giant alligator mutant.”

“Oh. Yeah, that should be easy.” Robert said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I think I actually saw something down by the harbour. Gimme a sec, I’ll be back,” Robert said, hopping towards the edge of the building and launching himself into the air. Mikey waited, looking at the billboard, hatred broiling in his chest. Looking at the unfinished work just makes Mikey want to destroy it. There was no way he was actually going to finish it. He studied the paint, the effortlessly smooth lines, the confidence in every stroke. Mikey wasn’t the same person he was when he started this piece. Even after the Kraang he had been confident, loud, and strong-willed. It felt like there was a piece missing now, like Big Mama had torn a chunk out of his soul and vanquished it to disappear. Mikey sighed and threw himself back, laying against the gravel, staring at the blank canvas of the night sky, lit from below by the city. The moon hung in the sky, a smooth crescent.

Mikey heard the gravel shift below a heavy weight and looked up to see Robert, standing in the gravel beside him, looking up to see what he saw.

“You find anything?”

“Big guy, huge, he was an alligator like you said.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Hard to say, he wasn’t very chatty. He’s under a pier.” Robert explained. Mikey nodded and stood up.

“I gotta grab some stuff, wait here.” Mikey said, heading to the edge of the building. He hopped down onto the fire escape. Mikey scrambled down the rickety metal skeleton of the fire escape, into the alleyway. Stepping towards the street he saw an odd glow. Peering towards it, he craned his neck and squinted to see what it was.

There, standing in the street was a luminous white fox. A large red circle adorned its forehead, red lining below the fox’s eyes. It turned its head, warm, dark eyes staring at Mikey. It paused in the middle of its stride, watching him for a moment. Behind it, three tails fanned out, large and fluffy, immaculately groomed. The fox sat delicately on the pavement, tails curling around its dainty paws. It tilted its head and yipped at Mikey. As if it were saying goodbye. Standing, the fox turned and ran into the nearest alleyway, the heavenly glow following behind, illuminating the dingy alleyway.

Mikey paused, watching the spot it had disappeared into. Trying to decipher what he had seen, a single name came to mind, from stories his father had told him about mischievous fox shapeshifters and their multitude of tails. Kitsune. Mikey was positive he was right.

Mikey slipped into the street, and into the manhole. He made his way back home, creeping into the lair. Leo would still be awake right now, but Raph was definitely asleep. Mikey didn’t know if Donnie was asleep but if he was awake he’d be in his lab. Leo was the only one to worry about thankfully.

Sticking to the shadows, Mikey crept along silently. He’d show his brothers he was ready to be treated like a part of the team. He’d remain unseen, he’d bring Leatherhead home, and he’d get through the city without being spotted by Big Mama’s henchmen, being spotted by anybody. And he’d do it alone. He didn’t need his brothers to coddle him. Mikey had brought down foes ten times his size, with ten times the amount of experience, and while he didn’t feel good about these “accomplishments” he knew he deserved to be trusted enough to leave the lair.

Slipping into the med bay was easy, but this was the hard part. Mikey moved at a snail’s pace, gathering supplies into a first aid box. Saline, gauze, antibacterial cream, bandages, everything he could pack into the box and still be able to close it properly. Spinning around, Mikey slipped out of the door, walking towards the exit, when someone cleared their throat.

“Orange, where do you think you’re going?” Splinter asked. Mikey froze and sighed, turning to his dad. Caught. Of course he was.

“...myyyyy room?” Mikey tried, offering an awkward smile.

“Uh-huh. Tell me then, why do you think I’m stupid?” Splinter asked, raising an eyebrow, his eyes boring into Mikey’s soul.

“I just… I can’t be stuck in here anymore.” Mikey huffed, relenting. “I can’t stay cooped up, I’m going crazy, I need time alone, I need to be outside. I stayed in that stupid hotel for months and now I’m just as trapped as I was there. But this time nobody thinks I can do anything for myself. Everyone treats me like I’m fragile.” Mikey said, words he’d been keeping inside himself for days pouring out like a waterfall.

Splinter smiled and nodded, gesturing to the exit. “Can I walk with you?”

“You-you’re not stopping me?”

“My son, I can certainly try, but what use is it at this point? You’d go anyways, would you not?” Splinter said, walking to the exit, Mikey trailing behind him.

“Yeah,” Mikey replied.

“Besides, there’s not much left to protect you from. You’ve defeated the Shredder with your brothers, you’ve vanquished the Kraang, and you opened a portal to save your brothers. And now you’ve proven yourself in the Battle Nexus.” Splinter said, shaking his head.

“How did you know? I didn’t tell you that. Did Donnie?” Mikey asked.

“No. You didn’t need to.” Splinter said, pausing and turning around. “You remind me so much of myself, a better version of the child I once was. You looked the way I felt after I was Battle Nexus champion.” Splinter explained, gently pulling Mikey down. Mikey knelt in front of Splinter, both of them pausing as Splinter gently held Mikey’s face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, my son. I’m sorry I didn’t push harder. I’m sorry this happened to you. Please, don’t let this be the thing that sours your life. Don’t give her that the way I did. You can rise above this. I promise.” Splinter said softly, eyes glittering in the dim light. “I know if anyone can, it’s you, Michelangelo.”

Mikey smiled and placed his hand over Splinter’s.

“I love you Dad.”

“I love you too.”

Mikey finally reached the harbour after ages of sneaking through the city, avoiding the yokai that were hunting for him. Sliding down the rocks, grabbing the edge of the pier and swinging himself under it, and there, exactly where Robert said he’d be, was a mass of scaly skin, rising and falling with each slow breath. Mikey grinned brightly, sliding down the rocks towards him. Leatherhead’s head snapped up and turned toward Mikey, a low hiss sounding from his throat.

“It’s me don’t worry,” Mikey said, holding up the first aid kit he’d swiped from the med bay. Leatherhead stopped, blinking slowly.

“You made it back. Why aren’t you hiding? You should be home.” Leatherhead said gruffly, turning away from Mikey.

“I had unfinished business. How are the wounds?”

“They have seawater in’em, how do you think?”

“Good point. Can I?” Mikey asked, holding up a piece of gauze and a bottle of saline wash. Leatherhead nodded and Mikey grabbed hold of his arm, gently manoeuvring it and beginning to squirt the saline over it, pieces of debris coming loose under the water pressure. Leatherhead grunted, a soft hiss emanating from his jaw, but Mikey kept at it until the water was washing away clear of debris and dirt. Mikey dried it with gauze, gently prodding the wound below. He could feel the metal of the bullet lying just below the skin. It hadn’t managed to pierce far into the thick hide that made up Leatherhead’s skin, but it was still there.

Backing off Mikey moved to the one lodged in his shoulder, working it over carefully, feeling the bullet. It seemed to be lodged a bit further into his skin. Mikey felt guilt broiling in his chest, festering and resurfacing as he remembered who had gotten him shot in the first place.

“You should come home with me.” Mikey said, voice barely a whisper, avoiding Leatherhead’s eyes.

“What?” Leatherhead asked, Mikey could feel his eyes trained on him, boring into his head as he refused to look up.

“Until you’re ready to go. Until things die down enough for you to go back to the Hidden City.” Mikey left out the part about feeling like this was his fault, knowing exactly what Leatherhead would say in response. They hadn’t spent much time together, but on the days they were together on that boat, they bonded. Mikey would willingly stick his head into Leatherhead’s maw, he would trust Leatherhead with anything. He had taken a bullet for Mikey, given him a way home, shelter. Companionship when it was most needed. The least Mikey could do was get him to Leo for some better first aid and give him a place to stay.

“What about the rest of your family? How would I even get there? Do you have room? There’s a million questions you have to consider before you just offer that.” Leatherhead replied, shaking his head.

“And I accounted for all of them. It’s an abandoned subway station, there’s enough room, you’re family now too.”

“I spoke to your brothers for all of two hours.”

“And we spent days on a boat together. You got me home. You took a bullet for me.”

“Two actually.”

“Exactly my point, you’re family now. Whether you like it or not.” Mikey said, smiling as he dried off the shoulder wound with a piece of gauze.

Leatherhead heaved a large sigh, shaking his head, a smile stretching across his reptilian face. “Lead the way then.” He said, relenting.

Truth be told, getting Leatherhead home was a bit trickier than anticipated. He was a very large mutant alligator, and he wasn’t exactly built for stealth. But, Mikey dragged him through the shadows, from alleyway to alleyway, until they found a quiet street with a manhole. Mikey made a beeline for it, practically stuffing Leatherhead into the damned thing, down into the sewers. Mikey followed behind him, slipping into the manhole behind him and replacing the cover. They walked in comfortable silence, Leatherhead following Mikey’s frequent twists and turns. They reached the lair, Mikey dragging Leatherhead through the threshold. Mikey paused, listening. From the kitchen, he could hear humming and faint music. Mikey pulled Leatherhead into the kitchen, looking and seeing Leo in the middle of the kitchen, shredding on an air guitar, music blasting through his headphones. Mikey waited, Leo eventually opening his eyes and jumping, yelping.

Mikey stifled a laugh, watching Leo double over, catching his breath and pausing the music, tossing the headphones onto the counter.

“Why is he here?” Leo gasped, looking up.

“I owe him, he’s family now and we need your help.” Mikey said, smiling hopefully at Leo. Leo seemed skeptical.

“I dunno.”

“Please?” Mikey asked, tilting his head and giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. Being the youngest had some perks. Namely manipulating your older siblings into doing whatever the fuck you want. Only April was immune to it, and just as expected, Leo immediately folded, sighing and rolling his eyes.

“Fine. This isn’t even the weirdest thing you’ve brought home.” Leo muttered, walking past them out of the kitchen.

Leo did what he could, cutting open the scars and pulling out the bullets, washing the wounds before stapling his wounds back together. But Leo did end up kicking Mikey out to go get some sleep halfway through when they realized Raph would be awake soon.

Mikey ended up explaining to Raph and Donnie why Leatherhead was there, and why he’d offered their home to a complete stranger. They too folded under the weight of Mikey’s puppy dog eyes, though not without some hesitation. Mikey found a subway car they hadn’t yet begun to use, it was a bit further into the tunnel, which gave Leatherhead some privacy and space. Raph wasn’t happy about Mikey sneaking out for a second time, but this time Splinter stepped in, reminding Raph that he wasn’t Mikey’s parent and he didn’t have to be.

Mikey had been in his room, flipping through his sketchbooks for what felt like the millionth time, sulking and feeling sorry for himself when Raph poked his head into Mikey’s room.

“Leo said he wants to see you,” Raph said, a barely contained grin stretched across his face. Mikey frowned, confused as to why he looked so excited.

“What for?”

“Just go see.” Raph said, disappearing as fast as he showed up. Sighing Mikey hopped off his bed, and walking over to Leo’s room.

Mikey poked his head into Leo’s room, where Leo was sitting in his bed, hunched over something. Watching, Mikey saw Leo pull his hand away sharply, hissing before sticking his finger into his mouth.

“Is this a bad time?” Mikey asked, unsure if he was even supposed to be here, even though Raph had told him that Leo wanted to see him. Leo whipped around and grinned.

“No, come here,” He said, patting the spot beside himself. In his lap was a pile of black fabric, pins stuck into the fabric, and a sewing needle hanging by a black thread in Leo’s hand. Mikey couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Leo sewing. It had to be years. But Leo was really the only one of them any good at it. Mikey remembered how hard he had tried to learn to sew, only to fail every time. Raph could knit, Donnie could do practically anything with machinery, and Mikey could cook. Leo’s gift was sewing. He was just good at it, but Mikey hadn’t seen him sew lately. And now that Mikey himself was avoiding the kitchen and he felt like he understood it. But now he felt alone again.

“What’s that?” Mikey asked, sitting cross-legged on Leo’s bed. Leo pulled a piece of the fabric up, this one free of the silver pins. It was a tube that tapered towards the bottom where there were two holes.

“Compression garments,” Leo explained. He stretched the fabric a bit, showing off its elasticity. “They might help the shaking.”

Mikey paused, taking the tube of fabric. Quietly, he pulled the fabric up his arm. They went all the way up to his elbow, his fingers popping out of the two holes, the fabric ending at his knuckles. Mikey smiled, flexing his fingers and feeling the pressure on his arms. He held his hands out in front of him. The uncovered one shook and twitched uncontrollably. The one in the compression garment still shook and had tremors, but they weren't so bad. Mikey leapt up from the bed wordlessly, running into his room next door. Blindly he grabbed a marker, and a sketchbook. Flipping to a mostly empty page, he drew across the paper. It was slightly shaky, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been when he first got home.

Tears stung at Mikey’s eyes. He could cook like this. He could make art, he could finally go back to normal. No longer was he trapped under the weight of all the things he couldn’t do. Sniffling Mikey turned around to see Leo in the doorway.

“Thank you, Leo,” He choked out, sobs quaking through his body, rolling through his chest. Mikey walked over, dropping the sketchbook to the floor, and slowly hugged Leo.

Leo hushed Mikey, pulling him closer. Mikey felt like this was the missing piece, the last thing that had been holding him back from truly feeling like he could move on from this, heal from all the things he had done and seen. It was like reuniting with a piece of himself he didn’t know he had lost.

Chapter Text

Mikey stepped back, looking at the billboard. He was still getting used to the compression gloves, still trying to get a feel for them. But they worked well. Before him laid a beautiful mural, the lines were a bit wonky, and Mikey could see flaws in the paint, but it was bright, and it was beautiful. Four shells, a rat above, and a baseball bat with a ghostly green aura below. Emblazoned on the side in Mikey’s handwriting were the words “mad dogz”, the Hamato clan symbol nestled comfortably between the words. Mikey turned around, wiping his face with his forearm, slicking the sweat off his face. There, sitting comfortably, was his family. His big, fucked up, imperfect family. Leo and Donnie were arguing good-naturedly, Raph trying to break them up, while April watched, cackling to herself. Splinter stood from his spot sitting on the roof, walking over and grabbing Mikey’s hand gently.

“It’s wonderful my son,” He said, looking at the billboard. “I look so skinny, good work,” He added with a soft chuckle. Mikey laughed, leaning down and hugging his dad gently. This was it.

As imperfect as it was, as much as their dad had fucked up and as overbearing his brothers could be, Mikey wouldn’t have traded this little family of theirs for anything in the world.

This is where he belonged, home with his family.