Work Text:
Litterally just projecting on this kid
Mikey had no clue why he was awake at this ungodly hour of the morning. He wanted to go back to sleep, he really did, but his anxiety was going nuts right now so that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
He shuddered every few seconds and hated it every time. The uncontrollable feeling of dread in his gut was making everything feel so much worst. His entire body felt like it was burning and his eyes felt like they had a mind of their own. They moved without consent and even when he blinked it felt like the world was being forced in and out of focus.
He knew nothing he was seeing was real. None of it was real. It was single second ‘visions’, (as he liked to call them), where the room shifted and changed. It changed to scenes that felt so strange and familiar simultaneously. Like a distorted nightmare he would never be able to remember. It wasn’t anything that should be odd or creepy, just random places his ADHD flooded brain loved to create. The issue was it felt like he was shoved into these unfamiliar places for a moment and it threw him for a loop every time. The vibes of the room would shift for absolutely no reason. No matter how hard he looked he couldn’t find a trigger, and no trigger meant no solution. He would be in the middle of getting dressed and start twitching, or training and suddenly drop his weapon. The feeling even attacked when he was with his family and perfectly happy. Something about certain rooms would freak him out for no reason. It was inexplicable which frustrated him to no end. The only solution was to clench his teeth until it passed and play it off as if nothing had happened. His family knew about his anxiety but it felt like they could never truely understand what he was suffering through. No matter how long they spent listening and trying to talk him through it, his explanations never did his strange mind and it’s borderline insane creations the justice it deserved. So he felt alone. Left to be assaulted by this utter nonsense several times a day with no end in sight.
Another vision hit him hard and he twitched several times only for the sensation to slightly wane. He wasn’t suicidal but it was times like these his intrusive thoughts loved to come out to play. They whispered to him in his own voice and told him to break his arms for attention. They wanted his blood and body for their own amusement. They desired to see his family just as hurt as himself. They prayed on his inevitable downfall.
And they just loved to place bets on how he would eventually kill himself.
Mikey reached under his sleeves and started to scrape at his arms. It was a nervous habit he had picked up from Donnie. ‘Manic minds think alike’ he supposed.
He knew he was supposed to get help. He wanted to run for help and hide in his big brothers’ arms until it was all over. He knew his family would gladly wake up to help him. They wouldn’t be mad at all, (his intrusive thoughts said otherwise but he ignored them). He should just get his lazy butt off his hammock and go get help. The chance that either Donnie or Leo were already up were so incredibly high he was basically guaranteed the help he so desired.
If he could just freaking move.
He felt so exhausted even though he was wide awake. Moving his body aside from shivering and scratching his arms like a mad man seemed so freaking hard right now. He was able to throw goddamn buildings on a good day and yet leaving his room seemed to be his breaking point! Why was it so hard?
Mikey took a deep breath and swung his legs off the side of his hammock. He could do this.
Just as his feet were about to touch the floor another vision entered his mind and made his breath catch. As he stood he shook so hard it hurt his neck. One eye slammed shut for a moment and his head cocked to one side. Twitching was the only word to describe it.
He looked around his dark room and saw nothing there but his favorite things.
No monsters.
No villains.
He could do this.
One step, then another.
He could do this.
Mikey made his way out of his room and down the hallway. Light flowed from the curtain from Donnie’s lab. And he heard the blessed voices of not one but two of his big brothers.
“—which would you rather fight? 100 mutant silverfish or like, a really big mutant gopher?”
“Leonardo, it is so incredibly early in the morning and you are so increasingly close to my ear—”
Leo annoying Donnie while he worked at 3 am had never sounded so heavenly.
Mikey made his way to the curtain as visions racked his tired body. He was seconds away from relief when an awful thought crossed his mind.
They sounded… happy.
Even if Leo was being a little bitch and even if Donnie only gave annoyed responses to his brother’s stupid questions, they sounded so happy.
Did… did Mikey really want to ruin that?
Against all better judgment, logical thinking, instinct for comfort, and the voices of his concerned family playing over and over in his head…
…he kept walking.
He made his way to the kitchen and the visions continued getting worst and worst. At this point he was pretty sure his stress was only feeding them. And now, after Mikey walked away from salvation with his tail tucked, they were having a full-on feast.
They assaulted him from all angles and made his face curl up into one he would have if he was crying. He should be crying right now but the tears were trapped behind his eyes.
This was torture.
It felt like he was five again and the monsters under his bed had come out to surround him. He couldn’t see them but he could feel them. They crawled out from all the dark corners and blind spots with murderous intent. Reaching tendrils and sporting grins.
He fell on his butt and pushed himself against the cabinets. He had tucked into a ball and was ready to retreat into his shell when he had a thought.
Mikey was a ninja, he should protect himself.
A green hand reached up for the drawer above him and searched desperately for something sharp, eyes never leaving the sea of darkness around him.
He found something he thought he could worked with and pulled it in front of his face to get a look.
Scissors.
Mikey weilded the scissors and was prepared to fight for his life when a horrible realization struck him.
It was all in his head.
It was all in his head!
IT WAS ALL IN HIS HEAD!!!
He let his head fall back and hit the cabinets behind him and his body relax. His legs uncrumpled themselves and his arms fell to his sides. Somehow his tears still refused to fall.
He felt the weight of his shitty weapon in his right hand. Exhaustion washed over him as the adrenaline that had built up crashed against the shoreline.
Why was he like this?
Why couldn’t he just get help?
He knew he should but it felt so freaking hard. His body felt like lead again but this time he knew he wouldn’t be getting up.
It was over.
Another vision hit him and he shook so hard. The scissors made a clacking sound against the floor.
His arms burned with his anger and fear. He looked down at them and saw the strange golden scars left over from when he opened that portal. They didn’t hurt anymore, and really he was somewhat proud to have them. Michelangelo had earned those scars by doing something impossible and saving Leo. His brother. His family.
If only he could be proud of whatever this pathetic display of anxiety was.
His arms still burned but he was sure that was in his head too at this point. Maybe it all was. How should he know.
His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, how he wished to cut it out.
His teeth felt foreign in his gums, how he wished to yank them free.
His eyeballs still twitched and moved erratically, how he wished to scoop them out of their sockets.
His throat felt achy and wrong, how he wished to slit it.
His arms still burned intensely, how he wished to cut them over, and over, and over…
Mikey’s eyes found the scissors once again, and one intrusive thought giggled before piercing through the rest and danced of the very top of his head.
‘We can do one of those things, can’t we…’
~
The point of the scissors was not as affective as Mikey thought they would be. They only drew blood in a few spots and that was already beginning to dry. Mikey had dragged the dull blade across the inside of his left forearm repetitively. It creeped him out how neutral he felt the whole time. Numbness surrounding him as he scraped away layer after layer of his skin. When he was not satisfied with the results on the inside, he moved to the back of his arm and made one massive deep patch. He kept going and pushing it in harder and harder until it burned. Then he kept going until a layer of skin was completely gone. He kept pushing because he wanted blood. He wanted something more than just the next layer of skin. He wanted to be splattered with the crimson red he was so used to after hundreds of fights and battles. He wanted it to drip down his arm and onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. That way the floor could feel his pain too.
His intrusive thoughts had actually gone silent for once. They were always here to instigate but never here to deal with the mess they caused.
The visions were still there but they were less intense. He didn’t shake when they came, instead allowing himself to sit in the misery they brought.
Finally he felt something drip. He looked down at his leg where the drop had landed, but found no blood. Oh.
Oh.
When had that damn broken?
‘Whatever,’ he thought to himself ‘crying seems appropriate for this shitty occasion.’
He continued to dig for blood, scraping harder and harder over and over again. The inside burned in glowing pain and radiated a strange inflamed red. Dried blood was smeared over some of the scraps. A clear liquid oozed from the deep cut on the back. Still no blood though.
It was really starting to hurt to keep this up. He had an incredibly high pain tolerance, it was necessary to be a ninja. So the fact that this hurt…
…ya he fucked up didn’t he.
But Mikey was not a quitter. He needed blood for this to be complete. He had no clue why it needed to be complete in the first place, (and if he was being completely honest with himself the world was getting a little hazy), but he did.
Mikey pushed and pushed. The ends of the scissors were coated in dead skin cells but he kept pushed. Long lines now focused in one spot. He was going to get blood. And then he would… do… something…
More and more… more and more…
Blood was necessary…
Don’t stop at the blood…
Go through the blood…
To the bones…
Cut the veins…
Feel the flesh…
Keep digging..
More and more… more and more…
And then finally…
Hands.
A voice.
A question.
“Mikey?” Leo asked.
Shit.
He fucked up.
Everything seemed blurry and odd following that. Voices spoke either to him or to someone else. He could make out very few words. Like “anxiety.” Sounded about right.
The scissors were carefully removed from his hand. He whispered a quiet thank you to whoever took those vial blades away from him.
Mikey distantly recognized that he was crying. Someone was poking at his arm but he intictivly pulled it away. He realized his mistake though and softly offered it out again. All the touches were soft. All the voices were kind.
Strong arms lifted him off the ground and brought him to a new room. If he wasn’t so out of it he may have recognized the new location, but he was too tired for silly things like that at the moment. He was sat down on something squishy and someone sat behind him to support him. He let himself slump back against the familiar plastron. Hands took his arm and began to work on it. Something was sprayed and HOLY SHIT THAT HURTS! The pain was sharp and stinging. He cringed inward and would have teared up if he wasn’t already sobbing his eyes out. Arms wrapped around him from behind and someone whispered sweet reassurances into his ear. They made him feel marginally better.
Eventually his arm was wrapped and he was once again lifted into the air. This time he was aware enough to curl head head into the crook between his carrier’s, (Raph’s, he finally recognized), neck and shoulder.
Mikey said the only thing he knew how to say just loud enough for only Raph to hear.
“I’m sorry.”
He began to repeat it in small little whispers over and over again and Raph just met his nonsense with kind words and love.
~
Mikey woke up feeling drained and broken the next morning. He discovered that the four of them made it to Raph’s room at some point and curled up on his massive bed together. Donnie was off to the side, (close enough to be there without needing to be super cuddly), Leo was sprawled obnoxiously across the bed and managed to invade all three of his brothers’ space at once, (its not like they minded though), and Raph was holding Mikey like a teddy bear.
Just like when they were kids.
Mikey inched just a little closer to Raph and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to go back to sleep and avoid thinking about last night as much as possible but then he distantly noticed his arm.
It was on fire in pain.
He backed up a touch and felt Raph shift. He froze in fear for a moment before his brother went still again.
Mikey raised up his arm and cautiously looked at the bandaging. It was white gauze surrounded in ace wrap. He noticed Leo’s signature ‘No one will ever break though this bandage ever’ style of overprotective wrapping, but he also noticed something else.
On top of the ace wrap were three different messages written in three very different handwritings.
In a messy purple scribble it said “Please come to us the next time you need help. If walking or moving is too difficult just send me a text and SHELDON will make sure I see it. I have also found that screaming is rather affective for getting attention. Keep that in mind as well.”
In pretentiously neat blue writing it said “It’s ok to have some bad days. It has never been and will never be your fault. Love your most favoritist brother.” (Below that in purple it said “favoritist isn’t a word, dum dum”)
In red shaky script, (a different messy than the purple though), it said ‘We love you Mikey. You are never ever a problem and I will personally smash every single thing you see no matter how crazy you think it is. It’s Raph’s specialty.” The red heart beside it was a nice little touch.
Mikey’s mouth hung open a little bit in shock. He knew his brothers loved him and would do anything for him, but this…
…it was just so incredibly thoughtful.
They were so incredibly thoughtful.
Anxiety might be a bitch, but at least he had the best support system anyone could ever ask for.
Mikey drifted back to sleep in the arms of his protectors, knowing no intrusive thoughts or monsters would ever dare to mess with him right now.