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A bit after the… bodyswap incident, Mikey says the one thing that he really shouldn’t.
“I’m glad we just get, like, one chill day. You know how long it’s been? Like, a month, dudes, I swear.”
It’s not been a month, not even close. Last night’s patrol had been just as boring, as had the day before it. But the moment the words leave Mikey’s mouth, his three brothers all share a groan, knowing that the simple sentence is pretty much bound to set their night off course.
Raph’s not superstitious, for the record. But turtle luck has proven its existence so many times that even he thinks it exists in some way or another.
Donnie sighs. “I’m guessing 30 seconds until we spot a Kraang.”
“10,” Leo agrees tiredly.
Mikey realises what he’s probably just done a few seconds too late. “Uh. Whoops?”
Leo facepalms.
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⠀
For a moment there, Raph thought that turtle luck had actually let up for once. But, nope, two minutes before the end of patrol, and Donnie’s just found an abandoned Kraang outpost that he has to scavenge through. It could have some great resources! Just imagine what he could create!
Another communicator? A body swap machine? A gun? None of those options sound particularly important, if Raph’s being honest here, and those are some of the prime examples of Kraang tech as of recent. And if it’s abandoned, the chances that he’d find anything to help rebuild Metalhead are low.
But Donnie isn’t the type to take no for an answer, so the turtles end up sneaking into the abandoned warehouse anyways.
As expected, Donnie gets his usual kid in a candy store glint in his eye and takes to scanning the disabled tech eagerly, pocketing stuff Raph’s not entirely sure even Donnie knows how to use.
Raph’s itching for a fight after so many boring nights. He’s, admittedly, disappointed that Donnie’s initial assessment of the warehouse was correct. Just one Kraang, please, Raph needs to hit something before he goes crazy. Casey skipped out on their last two person patrol so Raph wasted that chance at some good ol’ violence trying to track down his friend only to find out the guy passed out from sleep deprivation.
Deep breaths. HHHH. HAAAAH.
Yeah, no, deep breaths really aren’t his thing. He’s not really sure how long he’s even supposed to hold them for. Just knows that it’s in through the nose, out through the mouth, like meditation.
After maybe ten minutes of restlessness, Raph finds the nearest waist-level surface and sits down, not even checking what it is.
Something beeps.
Raph scrambles back to standing, feeling embarrassed that he’d just pulled a very, very Mikey-like move. In his defence, everything here is supposed to be disabled anyways, that’s what Donnie said! It’s not his fault that one piece of tech was still left online. It probably didn’t do anything anyways—
The warehouse is suddenly lit up in a familiar shade of magenta. Spinning around, Raph spots the expected triangular, purple portal. Raph reaches immediately for his sai, half guilty and half anticipating a fight with however many Kraang are about to come through.
Unfortunately, that’s not really what happens.
A light green figure comes flying out of the triangular portal right as it begins to shrink, crashing into a pile of cardboard boxes right as the amount of light in the room goes back to normal.
… What the fuck?
“Uh,” Leo blurts on behalf of everyone, slowly and uncertainly placing his katanas back in their sheathes. “Donnie, what just happened?”
“I have no idea,” Donnie admits, staring over at the new presence in the room. “But… sweet galileo, is it just me, or does it– he– whatever, look familiar?”
Raph squints at the figure, even though they’re shrouded in shadow. And yeah, Donnie’s onto something. From the flash of light green that he’d caught while they were still under the portal’s light, to the familiar head shape and larger than normal extremities, he’s quickly figuring out who this figure could be, and he’s not liking the concept very much.
“Dudes,” Mikey says with a gasp, bouncing on his feet. His nunchucks are already back on his belt, if he ever took them off in the first place. “Dudes dudes dudes. Is that another friggin’ mutant turtle!? But I thought that we were the only ones!”
Donnie opens his mouth to respond, but the noise he makes trails off. He opens and closes his mouth two more times before he figures out how he’s supposed to respond. “If… my theory is correct… that’s not a new one. But rather a… counterpart or clone of sorts. Jury is… very much still out.”
No kidding.
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⠀
Leo’s the first one to work up the confidence to approach the other turtle, or not-Mikey as Raph’s going to be calling him for the meantime.
He prods the not-Mikey, then staring down awkwardly when he doesn’t even so much as groan. After a moment of hesitation, he bends down and hooks under the turtle’s armpits, hefting him up and dragging his body closer to a window, where they all can get a slightly better look at him.
It’s Mikey. Three-toed, orange-masked, nunchaku carying and wearing all the normal gear, at first glance the unknown turtle could easily appear exactly like their little brother. But looking closer, he’s a few inches taller, and covered head to toe in unknown battle scars. From chin to heel, slash marks and what looks like the marks of explosions coat his skin. No matter if they want to believe this is their baby brother or not, something happened to this body, something horrible.
“Dudes,” Mikey gasps. He’s bouncing a lot less, notably. “That– that’s me.”
Donnie’s expression is twisted as he scans over the turtle again and again. He hesitates a bit before he speaks, and Raph’s so desperate for answers that he nearly fills the awkward silence with something angrier than he probably should. “A… version of you. Evidently not you. If I had to guess, as far-fetched as it sounds… I believe he may be a version of you from the fu– an alternate timeline.”
“You’re right,” Raph says. “It is far-fetched.”
He’s not entirely sure what’s going through his brain. Denial? He can see not-Mikey clear as the rest of them can, and he’s clearly a slightly bigger and more scarred version of Mikey. But something in him refuses to even consider that it’s Mikey, a version of his brother, one who’s been so hurt. It doesn’t paint a picture he wants in his brain, at the very least.
Leo clears his throat. “We should get him back to the lair,” he decides, his voice wavering. “We can reconvene with Sensei, attempt an interrogation, and alert April and Casey if we need to.”
Immediately, Raph thinks this isn’t a good idea. Sensei is… Sensei. He wouldn’t have any useful input for them aside from adding to the confusion with cryptic words, and Raph really, really doesn’t want his father to see a version of Mikey who looks like he’s made it through his fair share of wars. If he can’t handle it, he doesn’t want to know how the rest of his family would fair – is fairing.
But what other choice do they have? If this does turn out to be some sort of Kraang trick, at least back in the lair they’d have the higher ground. Five highly trained ninjas in a secluded area underground, it’d take a really skilled fighter to make it out of there, and Raph doesn’t think the Kraang are capable of making one.
“I’ll carry him,” Donnie offers, walking forward and re-scooping the turtle. More evidence that this isn’t actually a version of Mikey: not-Mikey doesn't stir when he’s being carried. Mikey’s always been energetic, even when asleep or unconscious. He talks in his sleep or moves a bit or literally anything. He’s never this eerily still.
Add that to the list, dumbass.
“Nobody call April and Casey,” he blurts. “If this is a Kraang trick, we don’t want to give away too much info. Especially since Casey’s still on the down-low.”
Leo smiles, though it’s strained. “Good thinking, Raphael.”
Full names. This really is serious. So much for another boring night out.
Thanks a lot, Mikey.
⠀
⠀
They have a wooden chair. And an extra pair of nunchaku. Which happen to have incredibly long chains.
So yeah, they tie down not-Mikey with his own chains, which may be a little cruel but if this does turn out to be some sort of Kraang plot at least they had the thought to not just lock him in the garage or something.
“You better not ever try this on me!” Mikey says warningly, gesturing at not-Mikey’s tied down form and then at himself. Despite the situation, Mikey’s managed to keep somewhat of a level head, which is more than what Raph can say. Halfway through tieing down not-Mikey he’d had to step away and beat against his punching bag until he felt a little more comfortable being in the same area as the heavily scarred and probably not even real version of his little brother.
They’re not going to, of course. Out of the question, forever and always. Well… unless the body swap stuff comes back, but even then it’s still a maybe.
“So…” Donnie starts nervously. “Where do we go from here?”
Great question. If only o’ smart, quick-planning, completely organised Leo would have an answer for them all. This is entirely his plan, after all.
“We wait,” Leo responds with a shrug.
⠀
⠀
Not-Mikey stirs about half an hour after they tie them down, and the movement is so minute that all four brothers almost miss it.
Sitting there and watching had gotten boring fast, needless to say. One by one, by only a handful of minutes or even seconds, they’d all gone off to do their own thing. Leo and Mikey gathered around the TV to watch SRMFF and seemed to almost completely get their captive, aside from the occasional glance. Admittedly Raph isn’t much better, flipping through comics that he’s already read a hundred times over. Donnie’s the only one actually facing the chair in question, though he’s looking down as he scribbles frantically in his notebook.
It’s hard to tell how long not-Mikey has been up, considering the noise of the TV has blocked out any chance of them notice a change in his breathing patterns as it happens. But Raph looks up as not-Mikey begins to open his eyes, and as he dashes to his feet a much more noticeable groan escapes from the turtle.
The four brothers are all switching gears within seconds. Leo and Mikey both ditch the TV show while it’s still playing, only bothering to turn down the volume a few notches. Donnie and Raph both close their respective ‘books.’
Hands all hover around their weapons as not-Mikey seems to slowly take in his situation.
Raph’s ready to start a full on interrogation, questions rapidly returning to the forefront of his brain.
If needed, he’s not entirely sure if he’d even use his sai, or if fists would be enough to keep the turtle passive. Seeing his brother overlapping with the unknown, though, that definitely keeps him a bit less violent. He knows that he could very well be staring at the next Kraang plot, and yet that’s still his younger brother in the chair, isn’t it?
This is confusing.
And to add onto the confusion, Donnie suddenly grabs Mikey by the edge of his shell, dragging him in the direction of the garage. Mikey yelps and protests, but Donnie uses his other hand to cover Mikey’s mouth, muffling the sounds.
The hell?
Donnie did that for a good reason, right? He’s the smart one, and Mikey has been surprisingly civil about the clone-seeming turtle in the chair so far, so there’s no reason to take him out of this, right?
Right at that moment, whatever subtlety not-Mikey was attempting flies right out of the window, and he struggles loudly against the chains of his own nunchucks holding him down. He doesn’t seem to care how harshly he rubs his body against them, even though Raph is holding back winces in sympathy at some of the bruises and scratches that he’s probably giving himself. And rope burn, if that’s what it’s still called for chains, is definitely going to be ‘fun.’
Yet another red flag that this isn’t Mikey: when the struggling fails, it slows to a stop.
Leo takes the opportunity to start speaking. He’s standing with his arms crossed, despite the disadvantage it’d present if he did end up needing to unsheathe his katanas. It’s probably some sort of brain manipulation thing, using a threatening pose to intimidate the person you’re interrogating. Raph doesn’t listen as much as watch Sensei’s lessons, okay? “Who are you and why do you look like my brother?”
Starting off strong, then.
Not-Mikey reacts quickly. His eyes fly open, more focused than Raph was expecting. They jump around the room rapidly, landing just about everywhere within a few seconds before settling on Leo. “Uh. What?”
He sounds like Mikey, too.
“I said—”
“Woah, Leo! Dude! You got your normal voice back! Nice! How’d you— how’d Dee manage that!?” Not-Mikey tries to lean forward eagerly, but is quickly caught by the chains. He frowns at them. “What’s with these, by the way?”
Only a few sentences and Raph’s already had enough.
Stepping forward, Raph shoulders Leo so that not-Mikey can clearly see the change in speaker happening before him. “Cut the shit. Why are you pretending to be Mikey?”
“Raph.”
Unfortunately, Raph’s not the best at reading people. Not-Mikey gets an expression on his face that Raph doesn’t recognise, even though he looks exactly like real Mikey who Raph can somewhat read, and it takes him a notably longer time to respond.
A growl rises in Raph’s throat as the other turtle scans the area around him, slower this time. He stares mostly at Leo and Raph, especially Leo. Eventually, though, he figures out what he wants to say. “Ooh! Is this time travel again? It’s been a while! Like… a bunch of months. A bunch a bunch of months.” In his excitement, he tugs on the chains some more, though he barely seems to even take notice. “Which makes you lil’ Leo and Raph! Woah! How old even are you? At least 16, right? Force 5 is playing in the pit, so… yeah! 16! Wicked!”
Like the real Mikey, who is now in another room, not-Mikey’s thoughts are going a bit too fast for Raph to track. The bits he catches are nonsensical (as always) and only serve to give Raph a fresh headache on top of the one he got carrying the 5th turtle back from the warehouse.
Leo, always the calmest of the turtles, takes one deep breath. His arms uncross. “I’m going to need you to repeat that.”
For some reason, Not-Mikey gives a smile at the words, like he’s trying not to laugh at something. “I time travelled, bro! Dunno how, because usually Renet should have dragged me back by now, but I’m not gonna question it. But it’s chill! Have you done any of the time stuff? I can’t remember…”
“Yeah, no,” Raph snaps, “We’re not complete morons. Time travel isn’t real.”
Not-Mikey meets his gaze easily. Raph is caught off guard by a look that he’s never seen in Mikey’s baby blue eyes before, leaving him with the unsettling feeling that he could be taken down easily by the turtle who is currently in a much worse position, with no weapons, and pretending to be Mikey, the worst fighter of the four. “And you’re calling me the moron? Rude, Raph.”
Apparently this is all he has to say, because he looks down at his plastron and decides that he’s going to go back to attempting to wiggle out of the chains.
Losing control of the interrogation, Leo starts, “H– hey—”
“Wow, you tied me up good!” Not-Mikey notes. He somehow manages to get his bulky right hand underneath one loop of the chains, the wrist predictably beginning to bruise from all of the squeezing of the metal. “I didn’t think we knew how to do this when we were kids.”
That is enough.
“Cut the shit!” Raph snaps, surging the rest of the way forward. He grabs one loop of the chain, tugging it forward as much as he can (not much) and making the binds even tighter. He does his best to hold eye contact, but that stupid look is back. “I know you’re not really Mikey.”
“Because it doesn’t make sense? Or because you’re a stubborn bitch?”
Mikey doesn’t swear. It’s not a thing that he’s really uptight about, because he’s not uptight about anything, but if he says a swear word that means he is getting serious. And even when he’s serious, the words don’t make too many appearances.
“This hurts, by the way. Can you let up a bit?”
Raph very much intends to say no. Leo yanks him back, and despite Raph trying to shove out of his hold multiple times, ever since they started going topside last year Leo’s gotten infuriatingly better at meeting Raph at his level.
“Donnie’s coming back,” Leo hisses in such a quiet voice Raph almost doesn’t catch it through the haze. He didn’t even hear the door to the garage/lab open.
“You’re literally playing the alternate timeline episode of Force Five! C’mon guys! You just gotta open your minds for a bit!”
Donnie walks back into the scene, missing Mikey at his side. Leo didn’t say that he was coming back with Mikey, but Raph had sort of assumed that he’d be coming back anyways. “If I may.”
They leave him silence to speak. It takes a moment to realise he is actually asking for permission, which is when Leo and not-Mikey both offer nods, the latter’s seeming almost eager.
“I have reason to believe that… the turtle before us… is telling the truth. And ah—” Raph opens his mouth to protest, but Donnie of course needs to say his whole piece first “–my turn talking. As far-fetched as his story may seem, in digging through logs on the communication orb, some sort of unknown interference was caught right about the time that he would have exited the portal. Unknown for the Kraang. I believe we can all understand how rare of an occurrence that is.”
Raph can’t. The Kraang can barely speak English properly, whatever Donnie’s trying to show as evidence may be good but what’s that stupid thing about causes not always being linked or whatever that other ‘c’ word is? Pretty sure it’s one of Donnie’s favourite sayings, the one that means not everything is relevant.
Or maybe he’s being stubborn.
“Thanks for backing me up, Dee,” not-Mikey says with a grin, and he does not deserve to use that nickname. Brothers and friends only. “Can we maybe untie me now? Please?”
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“If I talk to him, will the timeline, like, implode?”
Hopefully not. It’d be great for Raph to be proven right in this mess of a situation.
“No, Mikey,” Donnie replies exhaustedly. He sets the pair of nunchaku, that he’s thankfully agreed to still keep out of not-Mikey’s hands for the time being, onto his desk. “If the timeline were to implode, it would have happened back at the warehouse, and before you ask an event that severe would have immediate consequences, and we would not just be noticing them.”
That’s what Donnie feels the need to explain right now? Not the fact that the ‘smart person’ of the family has turned around and is now blindly following stories of time travel from what is most likely an impressive Kraang recreation of Mikey? What the heck even are his priorities?
Leo looks at Donnie with a serious gaze. “And you’re sure that he’s telling the truth? 100%?”
Donnie sighs. “Well, no, not completely. There’s room for error, as there is with anything, but from what I’ve been able to decipher of these Kraang transmissions, they are entirely unaware of any of their property being in our possession, nor what we activated in the warehouse last night. Meaning that there aren’t many plausible explanations other than, unfortunately, turning further into sci-fi tales than we have already.”
“Thanks for saying that quickly, Don,” Raph snaps.
They left a stranger in the other room, by the way. Completely unbound. Free to roam. Because Donnie and Leo’s minds together are great and thinking critically and having strategic ideas.
“I want to meet him!” Mikey decides, attempting to bolt out of the room. His brothers, well used to his antics, grab him easily before he makes it to the door. Mikey doesn’t struggle for very long, allowing Leo to drag him back away from the door.
“We should think of the best way to approach him moving forward,” Leo decides.
Is he serious?
“Aren’t you saying he’s Mikey?” Raph exclaims. “I don’t think planning to talk to him makes it any easier.”
And he’s roaming the lair. On his own. Able to get into anything, or to just leave and memorise a trail between the lair and a manhole cover, it would be so simple.
“Your input is not helping, Raph,” Leo decides.
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In the ten minutes that they left not-Mikey alone, he surprisingly hadn’t done too much. He’d returned the chair back to where it belongs, and then turned the volume on the TV back up so that he could just sit there and watch SRMFF. Which, while convenient, still grades on Raph’s fraying nerves.
Without much of an announcement of their presence, the TV quiets, and not-Mikey spins around eagerly. “Dudes, you’re back! Was wondering– oh my gosh, little me! How are you, dude?”
The look Raph had spotted earlier is gone. He didn’t imagine it, though, right? That wouldn’t even make sense.
Not-Mikey hops over the edge of the couch, landing standing on his feet in a clearly practised motion. When he’s standing on his own, it’s even more noticeable that he’s a few inches higher than Mikey, almost up to Donnie’s height.
Immediately excited, Mikey pushes forward until he’s standing in front of his alternate, bouncing eagerly. “You. are. so cool! You look like the coolest of cool main characters. The coolest!”
“Aw, lil’ dude! You’re pretty cool yourself.”
Nope. Nopenopenope. Somebody please end whatever this is before it can get further.
One Mikey is hard enough. Two Mikeys Mikey and someone trying to be a second Mikey is 10 times worse. Raph’s headache is growing by the minute.
“Excuse me?” Donnie cuts in, in a bad attempt at being polite. Not-Mikey looks over at him, and Raph catches the way Donnie hesitates under his gaze. Yet another red flag – Donnie does cave under pressure but usually it’ll take a bit more than just a glance. “Uhm– is it possible we could have a bit more of an in depth conversation about the temporal disturbance that brought you here?”
Despite the big words, not-Mikey responds easily. “Sure, dude! Not sure how much I can tell you, but I can try my best!”
“Is it possible that I could also join you in this discussion?”
The four– wait, no, five now –turtles are jump at the appearance of their Sensei, not having heard him exit the dojo or spotted his approach.
“Of course, Master Splinter,” Donnie responds easily.”
And not-Mikey, in all of his definitely not suspicious glory, bolts right out of the room.
Like the real Mikey he’s nothing more than a blur of movement as he rushes over and past the turnstiles, dashing into the maze of tunnels beyond. Without hesitation the four brothers follow, but the ‘ninja’ is either long gone or better at blending into the shadows, because he’s nowhere to be found.
With a quick gesture Leo instructs them to head further out, Donnie vanishing around a corner to check a tunnel with a bit more light from a grate. He returns not even thirty seconds later, shrugging.
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They do find the other turtle, thankfully. It only takes half an hour and a lot of back and forth complaining.
He’s completely pulled into his scratched up shell, which is rocking back and forth rapidly as he probably shivers. Raph hasn’t seen the real Mikey do that in years.
Because apparently he can’t be trusted with anything, Mikey and Leo give him twin glares before Leo risks his approach, crouching down in front of the shell in question. Raph crosses his arms awkwardly, taking a step back from the group because he’s getting the feeling now’s not the time to speak his mind.
Leo’s an idiot.
He begins rubbing the shell comfortingly, as if that is their actual brother, which he’s not. It’s a fake version. But Leo keeps up his attempt at comforting anyways, a soft smile fighting its way on and off his features.
Raph adjusts his position awkwardly as this process drags for a lot longer than he feels comfortable. He’s not about to leave his brothers, unless this is somehow a really weird way at kicking off a sneak attack, but the itch to move is there and it’s not going away anytime soon.
By the time not-Mikey finally begins stretching out of his shell, Raph’s leaning against a wall, twirling a sai in one hand. Mikey sits below him, entranced by the movement.
As soon as he’s made it out of his shell, not-Mikey rushes himself to his feet, rapidly assessing where he is and who’s around him. Raph’s never spotted Mikey scan his surroundings so thoroughly, but this is now the second time not-Mikey has done it.
“I’m sorry,” not-Mikey says weekly, hands hovering by his belt. He takes a step back, away from the other turtles. “I didn’t mean to freak you dudes out. I think I’m just gonna… go for a walk. Yeah. A walk. For the next few years. Goodbye.”
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Needless to say, not-Mikey doesn’t make it very far.
Raph cuts ahead of him not even two turns down, Mikey at his side and Leo and Donnie blocking him from turning around.
But one thing they really should have taken into account was that he’s supposedly a ninja, too, and a good one at that.
Before Rapu even knows what’s happening he’s taken a blow to the plastron, sending him stumbling backwards. Not-Mikey spins around to face Leo and Donnie, using one of his legs to trip up Mikey, sending the turtle toppling to the ground. He charges right at the two turtles and then behind them, getting a yank on Donnie’s mask that makes the purple-wearing turtle stumbling into Leo’s side, and then with one final shove those two are also sent to an embarrassing topple.
Raph tries to cut the other turtle off, he really does. But somehow he’s left his guard down again, and instead of just using shoves like before, not-Mikey full on flips him without struggle, and rushes off further down the tunnel on silent feet yet again.
The four turtles all rush back to their feet, but the fifth is already long gone.
“What the heck was that?” Raph snaps.
Donnie and Leo share a quick glance, serious in a way that Raph can’t decipher. “I don’t know,” Donnie admits.
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None of the turtles get much sleep that night. April and Casey come over for a bit, as per routine, but the four turtles stubbornly refuse to tell them about the ‘other Mikey’ and so eventually they go home after an ‘uneventful’ night. April is very loud about the fact that she knows she’s being lied to, but well… it wouldn’t be the first time.
Donnie and Raph are awake well into the early hours, waiting in case the turtle would return for his nunchaku. Leo and Mikey came out of their rooms after an hour or two, whatever sleep they got not having been for very long.
Admittedly, the drowsiness is beginning to take over Raph’s brain by the next morning, and he’s considering turning in for the time being when the turtle finally makes his reentry. Instead of coming from the turnstile entrance, he sneaks in through the Shellraiser tunnel, which is unexpected. Unfortunately, the lab door is very visible from the pit, and so he’s not hidden in the slightest when he attempts to sneak through it.
“Welcome back to the lair,” Raph greets sarcastically. “Planning on sticking around this time?”
Not-Mikey scans the room. The movement is awkward, but his expression not so much. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Master Splinter says as he slights the dojo doors open. “It would be preferable that way.”
Raph’s never seen a guard both drop and raise at the same time before, but he can’t think of a better way to describe what not-Mikey does. He flinches, eyes scanning the scene wildly. The rise and fall of his chest quickens. But on the bright side, at least this time around he’s not—
… running. At least he’s not running.
Not-Mikey surges forward, and in a completely unexpected move, he envelops Master Splinter in a tight hug, standing on his tiptoes and almost being able to match the mutant rat in height. The four younger turtles are all stuck into shocked silence as not-Mikey’s shaking starts anew, and he clings to a father that…
Raph really wants to think that this turtle isn’t Mikey. Because Mikey is always relaxed to the point it’s a character flaw, and this guy has done more situation assessments than Leo probably does. Mikey brushes off everything with a laugh, and the way not-Mikey jumps into tears makes him seem lachrymose.
But only a real monster could hug someone else’s father and pretend that they’re their own. Not even a Kraang experiment could be that cruel.
Of course, this only raises a new set of questions in Raph’s brain. What had happened to Mikey in the future, to leave him with so many scars? What does that mean for the rest of them?
What does that mean for Splinter?
It’s hard to look away from the moment, but Raph spares at least a glance at one of his brothers. Mikey’s doing the same, and for only a second they meet eyes. Donnie’s brows are wrinkled in concern, jaw clenched. Leo’s face is painted in poorly concealed confusion.
“We won, Papa,” an older, more worn version of Mikey breathes into the silence. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”