Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀Warmth enveloped his body, and he felt an odd, soothing calmness. He couldn't tell how long he had been in such a state. But it didn't bother him when the soul was so pleasantly at ease.

There was also something sweet. So sweet that the taste became overwhelming, a pungent aftertaste lodged in his throat. The silence that accompanied him was satisfying in its muteness. He felt so soft, pleasant, and light, like a feather, that he was completely unconcerned.

He seemed to be immersed in an undefined and intangible space, where there was only emptiness. This space enveloped his entire body to the extent that he couldn't just move but also couldn't make a sound.

At first, everything seemed unreal, then came a vague and simultaneously shaky realization. He was cold. Then he was hot. And then came a calmness he had never felt before. Similar to a long meditation or sleep, but it was neither.

It was good, it was quiet, it was so lonely, and again, it was nice. He didn't know why, when, or for what reason, but it didn't matter anymore. Not important, but sometimes in this quiet little space, he could hear distant echoes, the only guests here. They had no schedule; they appeared spontaneously and whispered something trembling in the distance. These tones were filled with various shades of feelings, and differed in tone and frequency of speech.

They left as quickly as they came, without an invitation. Leaving only a powerful, sweet scent with a slight bitterness, creating a trail somewhere into the distance.

His head was spinning from this overly sweet smell.

But something familiar was in these voices, making him try to remember forgotten things, shudder, and try to do something. Anything.

There was a soft, gentle tone that brought with it some sadness, but also hope for the future, hearing it made him want to follow this person no matter what. The next, a lower, rougher voice, he heard quite often, this voice was full with loyalty, some warming security. And the other voice, too, was a somewhat tired, calm one, the kind that whatever the owner of it said to him, he believed everything would be alright.

He wanted to turn around, call out to these voices.

And again, someone's whisper is filled with these colorful paints he had forgotten. Someone seemed to be reading some magical spell that instantly made the soul lighter.

This voice was more soothing than all the other guests here; it was filled with wisdom and the same great care.

"...retsu, zai, zen," warmth spread throughout the body from such deep intonation. "...My son, find the true way home. Your family needs you; we all wait for your return."

A faint noise strikes the ears, involuntarily causing a flinch from the hissing sound. The wooden creak in the space echoes deeply as a slow, tired sigh goes in the same direction. Shouts filled with disagreements, and then, then... he drowns again, unable to hear such things.

These voices are full of a colorful palette of colors, different emotions. If he answers, the heat will burn his throat. And he didn't want to feel this sensation, even though he senses the metallic taste is familiar.

Despite everything, hearing the voices became harder each time for his soul. That desperate and angry arguing burned every artery, every vessel, and every vein in his body.

He feels like he should have stopped this.

Awareness wavered.

The heartbeat is rhythmic, like a beautiful melody, the instrument of the beat. Everything around takes on its spectrum of shades. When he turned towards the light, a stream of warm, fragrant air greeted him pleasantly. The short ties of the mask flew up, leaving the owner surprised as he touched his face, for he doesn't remember it being there before.

It was orange. He likes that color.

Everything trembles with these forgotten sensations, making him look around. Taking a step, he felt the strength boost, so he moved again along the white petals. So that is what it smelled so good. Intuition made him stop halfway and turn back. A blurred image of a smiling woman, standing shyly under a tree of beautiful falling sakura petals next to a lake filled with those same snow white flowers.

His eyes widened when he stopped. They exchanged unequivocal glances, and a word came from both of their mouths. Then she slowly nodded with the same gentle smile with which she greeted him, as if answering. The dark haired woman approached closer, enveloping him in tender embraces, which caused a pleasant fluttering in his heart. The petals swirled away from the breeze, creating a vortex around them. He couldn't fully hear words, only a quiet whisper, but he didn't need to know. It seems the answer will come in its own time.

So, he embraces the sun, closing his eyes with a relieved sigh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The damp air hit his nose as he shook his head uncertainly, causing ripples in the water around him. Everything blurred before his eyes for a few seconds, only to be replaced by calming shades of dark purple reflected in his clouded gaze.

His weak body refused to cooperate, growing limp in the water, and thoughts jumbled together, sticking like a web. Why was he lying in a bath filled with water? It was oddly soothing, but not really normal, right?

"Leo, I swear, if you move again in this direction, I'll-..."

Heavy things opened wider, trying to comprehend what was happening and why someone was yelling.

Lifting his shoulders, the teenager groaned softly from a flash of pain. Only then, lowering his gaze, did he notice some scars on his left arm and not only. Ah.

Leaning on his right, he slowly stood up, clumsily crossing the bath, swaying from side to side, trying not to fall, leaning on the edge of the nearby medical bed. Inhaling slight cool air, a chill ran through him to the bones. He grabbed the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around himself in search of warmth.

"Both of you are SO unbearable! Not the time for this! Can't you two just..."

Taking the first step, he immediately awkwardly fell to his knees.

His consciousness turned into mush with clouded thoughts; it was hard to concentrate on anything. Some things in front of his eyes blurred, and worse, he couldn't hear well, unable to discern the unfolding situation. It seemed both strange and funny at the same time, even somewhat absurd.

"Raph, I told you to step back. Did you not hear me?"

It was them. Those voices. He recognized them now. Blinking, he raised himself again, relying on whatever he could, hoping to find balance. His legs refused to obey, everything trembled, but the guy forced himself to walk.

Overcoming himself, he moved toward the door, which he didn't notice right away. Because of the headache, his head felt like it was splitting in half, adding to the list of his unpleasant sensations.

Leaving the room, or rather the med bay or laboratory, he glanced unsurely at the living room. The TV, changing pictures every half second, caused ache in his eyes, so he quickly looked away. This place... for a moment, everything seemed so right.

Leaning his healthy shoulder against the wall, he headed in the direction of the noise. Surprisingly, the concrete floor was not as cold as it seemed at first, and he was curious if something warmed down there.

Slowly but surely, he reached the slightly open shoji. For some reason, he knew what it was called. Peering inside, he noticed how soft light pleasantly fell on three turtles and a rat, illuminating dark areas of the dojo.

"Leo, brother, listen to me. It's not you right now," Raphael frowned, looking straight into the cold eyes of his older brother. "Any other time, I'm ready to help you break a few cans, but not when you're gonna do stupid stuff you'll regret later."

Only now did he feel the tense atmosphere that literally squeezed everyone in this room with iron clamps, and it saddened him.

He swallowed, finding solace in the beauty Japanese's interior.

"Listen to Raph, Leo. No doubt, you're the leader and, yes, you feel like shit, we all do. But right now Mikey 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 need a leader. He needs his big brother. We need you, Leonardo. We understand, we know what you feel, and we've been through it too," Donatello added sadly, approaching both brothers, glancing between the two turtles and occasionally throwing sideways look at their sensei.

"You can't just selfishly shut yourself off from us and run in search of the revenge train, like there is no tomorrow for you. And if in a normal situation... I'd let you two figure it out, it's just... wrong..."

The two mutant brothers were determined, though Donnie looked much tired from his speech, only sadly glancing between the two turtles and sometimes casting side long glances at their sensei.

Splinter's eyes were closed, seemingly contemplating something of his own, allowing his sons to deal with their problems independently. Their father was turned towards a tall tree, which, by the way, the awakened one didn't notice right away. He wonders how. The picture in front of his eyes did not seem clear; objects either blurred into outlines or transformed into some contours...

But the pink sakura was so beautiful.

"..." However, only a frightening silence followed. The two brothers realized Leonardo could not understand this simple truth, even their nearby sensei could not bring the lost son to his senses.

Standing in the doorway, he was genuinely frightened despite his dulled consciousness. Was it a family argument? He didn't want to intrude into personal things, but it was so heartbreaking to watch. Sadness corroded him from these words, in the emerging struggle between the brothers.

Leonardo clenched his hands into fists in an untypical manner, and his eyes distorted icebergs in a deep, lost ocean. Witnessing this spectacle, his heart sank, and when the turtle in the blue bandana took a step, he involuntarily repeated the same. He is holding out his hand, but freezing.

There was a strong desire to embrace this guy, to melt the ice that covered a sharp mind and the kindest heart with a layer of anger. But the other two were faster; they blocked the leader's physical attack, pressing against him with their entire bodies, literally knocking him to the ground.

"Leo, we're here, brother," Raphael whispered quietly, holding him tighter in his embrace.

"We won't leave you, Leo," Donnie sounded more confident, reminding him that they were here. For him and will always be, regardless of anything.

"Let me GO! I have to! I must... do at least something... it's my fault, I should have listened to him!" The turtle struggled for a while, looking desperate, until he quieted down after a minute.

And the hugs helped. The gaze of the eldest warmed, and his hands fell down to the carpet, hiding the shiny eyes full with sorrow in one of the mutant's shoulders. Leonardo was so helpless. He flinched in the family members' embraces, while two pairs of hands comfy pressed him closer. Donnie murmured something soothing in another language as Raph breathed heavily but just as calming, pressing him even tighter.

Leonardo forgot that his younger brothers already saw a similar scene. First, they almost lost him, carrying him in their arms, and now their youngest brother.

Leo couldn't even imagine how terrible it was. To watch, to wait, and only hope, unable to help with anything. To see Raph not far from the bath or Mikey's bed, sitting for hours on a chair in silence, then bursting into the punching bag, hitting it until it tore. Swallowing the guilt, tightening his sais more tightly and throwing himself into training on everything that moved. How Donnie didn't leave his laboratory for days, buried in tonnes of work, watching from afar only Mikey's state and sometimes Raph's. And Leo couldn't remember when Donnie last ate properly; he doesn't remember when everyone ate together at the same table.

Leonardo is embarrassed; he cannot describe his feelings.

The trio didn't dare to peek into the kitchen, avoiding it by the tenth way, fearing to hear the ghostly ringing laughter of the baby brother. And then it turns out that there is no one there, only a long cold stove from two weeks ago and an insanely sad Ice cream kitty in the freezer. Only when April and Casey visited, they pulled out the worrying family pet, carrying it to Michelangelo. For a short time, until April leaves for Donnie, closes the door to the lab, and stays there until evening or even night, sometimes with even Casey. And yet, Casey still sat around the bath for a while, holding a cool bowl with numb hands, returning to the kitchen and trying to make Raph eat his aunt's homemade food, knowing that his school friend is busy with a similar mission. And maybe later, they will go to Leo together. Together, like heavy artillery.

The teenagers remember the difficult recovery stage on the farm, but there was Mikey, despite all the troubles, he glued everyone together with his optimism. But now, even Michelangelo cracked.

This glue dissolved, along with it in his blood.

Their training became rarer, even Leonardo, the most dedicated to this art among the brothers. Even more, he no longer looked his father in the eyes, guiltily leaving, thinking that his sensei was disappointed in each of them, even if it was far from the truth. A few times, Karai came to them, not uttering a word; she sat next to Leo and went into the astral world, after which he hesitantly joined her for a long time. After that, she left just as quietly, heading to her father, doing the same thing and disappearing, looking in on her way to the younger brother, taking part of the sadness with her. Both thanked her for that. Splinter didn't really leave his room, however, visiting the youngest son, reading healing mantras, changing fragrant herbs and flowers near the table, sadly examining the bowed heads. He didn't speak, just let them figure out their own mistakes on their own. It seemed in their unusual family; understanding silence in such situations was the most necessary.

Leo exhaled, drained.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to attack you... I just..."

"It's okay Leo... just please stay with us... I don't want to lose anyone again... you and him almost died, you both are 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 closer to death.... just... that's enough...." Donnie answers quietly, his voice almost didn't tremble, but the pictures of his red hands stained with the blood of his brothers are in his nightmares.

"I'm not a doctor, I don't have a classification... I only know how to fix broken tech."

"I'm sorry Donnie..." Leo mumbles quietly, pressing himself into his genius brother.

Donnie slightly nodded, his lips trembling as he sniffled.

"I'd still trust you with my life over some stupid docs, Don," the red masked turtle exhaled. "You always find a way."

Ah, Donnie huffed, muttering something half angry, half proud at this statement: "That doesn't mean I can always do this, Raph. Don't push our poor turtle luck."

Raphael is grumbling now too, but it was a pleasant moment.

"...Geez, Raph, when did you manage to become the voice of reason?"

"Probably when you lose your shit, it turns on," he responded with a shrug, when his grip eased. "Two hotheads here? Leo, we should already evacuate the planet."

"I agree. It would be a disaster," Don added with a half smile, slightly stepping back, slightly sensory overloaded.

The guest near the door smiled.

Watching this scene made him feel better, despite the dizziness. Standing on his feet for more than five minutes turned out to be much harder than it seemed.

He felt incredibly sleepy; he felt like he'd reached his limit, without fully understanding what was happening. His distracted attention was caught by a figure in a dark raspberry kimono that turned around.

The sons flinched and immediately squirmed their faces, completely forgetting that their sensei was standing nearby. Leo lowered his eyes in shame, and the guys patted his shell for support, while Splinter hid a half smile of relief, his whiskers twitching, giving yet another important lesson.

"My sons, discord and estrangement are never the solution in difficult situations."

The eldest mutant sat down with a sour expression on his face when he spoke quietly but loud. "That is why you always only watch, father?"

It was a cold bite, as true as it was. The other two brothers stared at each other in surprise, understanding completely the frustration they felt from their sensei's actions, less than their father now. Though hearing Leo's shocking disobedience and resistance was still surprising.

Oh, even he was surprised by this, not knowing how to react.

And the tall rat, slightly confused, sighed softly, folding his hands behind his back, averting his gaze. He didn't expect that, of all of them, the once eldest son would say something like that to him. Well.

Master Splinter nervously cleared his throat, his ears dropped a bit.

"True... I also made a mistake here... I apologize, my sons. I must... also take a more active part in the emotional side of our family and not only observe."

It seemed like the tension slightly eased with the admission of their father's mistake, when the fearless now confused one now embarrassed by his snap, but not apologizing. Yoshi doesn't blame him for it.

"Leonardo, I know how bitterness hurts, but seeking revenge for the past is meaningless. It only burns our hearts and souls. What happened cannot be changed, but we must know and remember it to avoid such in the future," all the sons in the room nodded in response to Splinter's wise advice, "...even if someone is to blame, we must overcome it. Only then can we protect each other, for there is nothing more valuable than family."

"In this life, we only have each other, if one of us goes down, we all go down."

In that brief time, only these deep words brought something in a mess up memory.

He remembered every rustle, every conversation, and every scent in detail.

That sweet scent of pure white flowers. He remembered a dark haired woman under a beautiful blooming sakura, just like here, but even greener. Her beautiful dark hair, as delicate as she was, pink petals circled around her back then. An incredibly loving gaze filled with the most sincere emotions in her black eyes. That velvety voice, leaving her never ending gentle smile.

One word escapes his lips in a whisper, and it seems the acute hearing of an old rat caught it. Finally, Sensei opens his eyes, stepping back, fixing his eyes in genuine amazement on the pale turtle standing beside the shoji.

"My son... Michelangelo?" Splinter's voice trembled for the first time in a long time.

But he didn't hurry to answer; his head was so heavy, not noticing how the world darkened before his eyes. Not even managing to turn his gaze to the three mutants, he only noticed a blurry blue ribbon and a raspberry blotch. Even so, he didn't feel the cold floor with old carpets, only the warmth of hands.

He doesn't understand anything, but right now, it feels so calm that he doesn't even want to.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀At the moment, Michelangelo was sleeping, and all his indicators were stable. They made sure he was not in any danger, especially Donnie, when they brought additional weighted blankets for comfort.

"...or later, he'll wake up. It's no longer a comatose state, which already indicates improvement. He just needs… a little more time," Donatello sighed deeply, leaning against the door of his laboratory and improvised medical wing, trying to remember when his scientific shelter turned into a place for family meetings.

Leonardo nodded slowly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, sharing his worries with a pensive look, he gazed at the sleeping figures in the dimly lit room.

"Maybe we should send Raph to get some rest?"

"I don't think that would work," Donnie replied fast, looking in the same direction as his older brother.

"Me neither," he admitted, chuckling softly. Leo listened to the quiet snoring. "They're usually so loud and it's so out of place now. What about you? You should rest, Don."

With a smile, the inventor walked silently across the room, pushed aside scientific notes, grabbed the thermos recently left by April, and filled two cups. The light scent of mint wafted through the air, starting to relax the tired bodies and souls of the warriors. Returning, Don handed the hot drink to Leo, who took the cup. Leo responded with an equally warm smile, understanding the hint.

Having blown on the ginger tea, Donnie took a sip, and then pursed his lips. "Still, I guess teas belong to your systematics, Leo. I'm motivated here only by mint."

The eldest brother chuckled, enjoying the tea, but the aftertaste of sharpness on the tip of his tongue wasn't his favorite either.

In the room of brilliant ideas, a real chaos was unfolding, not typical of the accurate Donatello, who was used to order, not as much as Leo with his feng shui, but clean enough for a scientist living in a sewer.

The desk was cluttered with some notes on the mutagenic serum for the younger brother. Various vials with unknown liquids, ranging from gray to maroon-brown, and only Don knew what these glowing subjects, including almost the entire periodic table, were for. On the edge of the other half of the table, closer to the corner where the brothers slept, was the desktop first aid kit. Desktop because everything was visible in case of emergency. Bandages and temperature lowering items were the main doctors of this mini hospital. Nurses were thermometers, patches, and vitamins, and medical brothers were antiseptics, pain relievers, and herbs. The last, Sensei added, reminds of the important olfactory receptor system.

So a day and a half passed since the incident in the dojo. Mikey didn't come to consciousness again.

None of the brothers wanted to leave Michelangelo; they had already missed his awakening once, and a second time, they couldn't afford it.

However, they avoided each other for some time. Donnie thinks he hasn't seen Leo for a few days, and the whole situation makes him feel ashamed.

"Sorry we weren't there," he apologized.

"You were," Leonardo firmly replied, shooting one of his displeased looks at Donnie but softened. "Let's not talk about it, okay? Not now," and then fell silent, not wanting to continue this topic.

With a sigh, the tall turtle only quietly added, "What you said to sensei was cool... thanks."

". . ."

Still, despite all his attempts, Donatello saw guilt and conflict in his brother's eyes, one of those guilt that he's not being good enough, creeping, long suffered on his brother's face. But he decided to comply with the request this time. Later, they will return to this talk, even if Leo doesn't want to. And now, let him sip his tea; it's healthy after all.

In that short time, stress had penetrated too deeply into the heart of the family, forcing them to be apart from each other, to be alone, and the guilt for what happened poisoned the air with venom, clouded minds, allowing them to forget the true meaning of the word 'family'.

"You know, back on the farm... I didn't notice how much Mikey did for us. He cooked, took care of the animals, entertained and laughed with others. He pulled me and Raph out of our shells, even if he was irritable. Without you, the time was horrible; we didn't know if you'd wake up. He never lost his hope, even if he seemed kind of upset."

Leo multitasked and looked again towards the other room, continuing to be silent.

"We were... we weren't bad brothers, right? I mean, he's Mikey... no matter how much I don't want to admit it with a logical side, he understands emotions better than me, any of us. He was always aware or seemed to know some things about us, understood how we feel, and... I got used to it as if he were the most understanding... but I'm not used to him not reminding us..."

It seemed like Donatello was trying to find the right words, emotions not always characteristic of him.

"...Being a family?" the blue eyed one prompts, knowing that Mikey has always been a significant part of their team, their family, but he hadn't thought about it as deeply as the scientist did. He just always knew Mikey was the heart of the team.

"Exactly."

And they fell back into silence, a little more comfortable, thinking about their own things.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Raphael bit his tongue, overhearing the last part of the conversation between the two, but agreed mentally with the techie, swallowing his own voice and opinion. He gently squeezed Michelangelo's hand, continuing to warm his cold fingers and successfully coping with his task. The pleasant scent of herbs performed its job really well, slightly calming the anxious green heads, but around Mikey, everything smelled so suffocatingly sterile and medicinal that there was no trace of himself.

Rubbing his nose sleepily, Raph raised his stiff back, adding a couple more wrinkles to the already crumpled sheet, and then turned his head to his brother, counting to himself all the freckles, dots, and spots on his face. It helped to deal with the pain, finding solace in this small ritual.

"Faster, wake up, lil bro," Raphael prayed more than whispered to the sleeping Mikey, still remaining unnoticed by his brothers.

And he seemed to be heard. After some waiting, Mikey's face twitched, and eyelids began to move.

For a moment, Raph was startled, gasping at Mikey's expression, and after the same interval, joy overwhelmed him.

"He's waking up!"

Jumping on emotions, Raphael almost knocked over the chair, and the furniture itself unpleasantly hissed like a cat. The younger man sighed softly, confusing not only his brother in the red mask, but also his brother in the blue mask. Only the doctor of this temporary hospital didn't lose his composure, pushing Raphael aside, already managing to grab a flashlight and leave a warm cup on the table. Splinter entered the lab, perhaps driven either by intuition or by his son's scream throughout the house. However, the father's presence helped Leonardo calm and release the death grip on the unfortunate cup.

With a less greedy sigh, the mutant opened his eyes, unfocused as he looked at the ceiling, and then at the doctor, who lacked a white coat for the image. What pleased him first was that the thoughts in his head had collected themselves into a pile. He had a headache, but compared to the previous awakening, it was mild. Concentrating, he saw those standing in turn, and they patiently waited, scrutinizing the dull and tired eyes of the once sparkling different colors. It seemed they were afraid to touch him, as if he could dissolve in any moment. And it came to him, barely of course, but their worried faces said it all.

Oops. They were... different.

He swallowed a whimper of pain from his injured shoulder and tried to sit up. The hurried hands of a mutant in a purple mask helped, supporting his trembling back.

"Don't strain your body, relax," he said softly, placing two soft pillows under his back. "My speech is clear, do you understand me? Nod if yes."

Don held a confident expression, trying to act like a doctor first, because it was more critical now than his trembling hands.

Accepting the care, the youth hesitantly nodded in agreement, although he was clearly disoriented, examining the unusual eyes of Donatello: chocolate, but deep, transitioning into a dark crimson, resembling some precious stone filled with mysteries and speculations, somewhere there in the glow.

Meanwhile, a wave of relief washed over the room, causing Raph to lean on Leo like a support, and the last didn't mind, embracing him with the same feelings.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Donatello also sighed more calmly, casting glances at his brothers, smiling gently.

Blinking, the mutant caught a suspicious look from the tall rat, and for some reason, he completely shared his distrust about himself. The concern in Splinter's eyes, like fire, didn't fade; he could still feel that worry. Understanding each other through this delicate connection of mutual gaze, the father came closer, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, and the others exchanged skeptical glances at the sensei's gesture, awaiting a reaction.

"Michelangelo... my son?"

His intuition worked just as finely.

"...I'm not sure... I'm sorry," these first words softly, almost in a whisper, escaped him, bringing Splinter's fears to life. The trained hands of the wise sensei softened, and a chill on his soul from the realization uncomfortably tickled. He couldn't resist, embracing his son, gently stroking the cool reptilian head, as the lost child breathed in the scent of herbs, familiar and homely from this unfamiliar figure.

Poor, poor child. The ray of light in their lives, the merciful heart of their family, shattered. Their sun. Yoshi's hands trembled slightly, as no training and meditations in life had prepared him for the lost gaze of his sweetest son. Those eyes no longer sparkled; they had only dulled.

Why him? Must they go through such pain? Alas, Hamato Yoshi had no answers to these repeating questions in his mind. Master Splinter would give everything in the world to shield them all from pain, but he couldn't, or else they would cease to value their own and others' lives. All that was left for him was to sigh, shed a couple of tears, and sigh again, hugging his pale son tighter.

But did his clan's moral principles really make sense now when his hands were shaking? The master didn't want to answer.

And no more words were needed; everything became clear without them when a big smile didn't light up the face of the younger brother. When his eyes revealed a confusion mix, when in his hazy and tired gray eyes, there was a reflection of fading compassion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Sensei Splinter slowly told the story of the New York heroes. About them. About their incredibly complex life, full of adventures and dangers. The brothers felt the calm aura of their father, but awkwardly flinched at their own names, and those briefly aquamarine eyes attentively studied the present mutants. Literally for a second, their sparkle reflected in their lost brother. Michelangelo never lacked curiosity, it seemed, even now?

"So, my name is Michelanj-..." he awkwardly stumbled, biting his tongue, and shyly lowered his gaze to his feet, abandoning attempts to repeat the name.

Donnie's heart shattered into a million pieces made up of molecules and atoms, realizing the first issue after his younger brother's comatose state. Clenching his trembling hands, he mentally slapped them with his index finger, keeping control over his emotions. He had to be strong to help his family and his brother. Only Don could put Mikey back on his feet, just as Leo did in his time, as it was his direct duty to him. To his only younger sibling.

No one else.

"Yes, Michelangelo, but we call you Mikey," Donnie spoke slowly but firmly, activating a small flashlight and, at the same time, adopting the role of a doctor. "I need to check your central nervous system for any deviations. Also, can you tell me what's bothering you right now? I promise there's nothing to worry about. Okay?"

It took a moment, but Mikey nodded, ceasing to examine the unexpectedly intriguing blanket. With approval received, the family doctor began checking the pupils' reaction to light, awkwardly lifting his brother's head in the right angle.

"Don, wh-why is he talking like that?" Raphael couldn't completely get rid of the trembling voice due to recent panic but dared to approach closer, leaving Leo behind.

"It's called aphasia," he muttered, flickering in front of Mikey's eyes, "Mikey, please, follow the light," Donnie chuckled, finding no abnormalities except for a slow reaction, "uh, what was I saying? Right, to be brief, a speech disorder, possibly, because of the coma or head trauma, he might not be able to read and write as well."

At this statement, Mikey became upset, discovering the bandage on his head, but allowed himself to be further examined in the room of purple hues, despite the annoying glare in his eyes.

"What do you mean? Leo didn't have that..."

And Raph, at the mention, turned his head towards the elder, silently evaluating his brother on a mental level and raising his eyebrows in surprise at a confused Leo.

"Everyone has their individual manifestations. Leo was luckier in this. He didn't damage his memory and could almost use communicative skills at the same level, but it took him longer to recover physically," the inventor explained, finishing the visual examination. "Mikey has increased regeneration... It's a miracle."

"Also, amnesia is caused by brain damage and comas. It's good that it didn't last as long as Leo's, but unfortunately, we can't do anything about the consequences. Just observe rehabilitation and hope for the best."

"That's all?? You can't do anything? You're the smart one. Figure it out."

"Raph... I can't fix this. If I could, I would."

Sensei carefully studied the floating energy in the air, observing his children. They all face a long path to recovery, not only materially but also spiritually, to regain trust in themselves and each other. It was truly painful to see a split in the turtle team, but this was their new trial on the path of life, just like his. But something hinted that if his amnesiac son looked at Leonardo with such concern, forgetting about himself, then everything would fall into place at the right time.

"My sons, I think it's best to leave Donatello and Michelangelo to not interfere with the medical examination. And the rest of us need to gather strength for the upcoming day," Sensei softly stated, placing a hand on the technician's shoulder, but with a glance, cut off the approaching protests of the red-banded brother, "Raphael, we can only help Michelangelo in this way for now, but I ask you not to linger. Everyone needs to rest their body and soul."

"Hai, Sensei."

Only Raph and Donnie agreed, exchanging worried glances at the two other brothers. This poisonous tension could be felt by everyone without exception. After all, Leo was far from okay; none of them were okay. And to repel the incarnate fragments of pure fear in their heads, Leonardo couldn't do it in any way.

"Hey, are you o-okay?" Leo flinched, uncertainly raising his forehead at Mikey's trembling voice.

The room became quieter, as if listening to every little word that came from Mikey.

In moments like these, Raph hated seeing Leo unsure, so silent, torturing himself inside, icy with his own guilt. He was their leader and older brother, and Raphael couldn't stand the burden placed on Leonardo's fragile shoulders. This martyr-like mask, similar to Dante Alighieri, as Raphael once read about in that writer's works. Unconsciously, he nudged those shoulders, finally making the frozen mutant move.

"Go to him, dummy," these quietly spoken words from behind didn't radiate any irritation, typical of the usual Raph.

The ninja threw a frown at Raphael's smirk beyond his understanding, almost stumbling over the same unfortunate chair. Donnie shook his head amusingly but still stepped aside, allowing the younger brother to get a better look at Leo.

"I-I'm glad that... you get along again, guys. You're Leon-Leonardo, right?" he said carefully, and a small smile flashed between Leonardo's lips, even if he was upset that the other caught them fighting, and they didn't even notice.

Leo was not okay, far from it, but right now, the image of a dying brother on his hands faded, as if Mikey himself was chasing those buried fears haunting them in the darkest nightmares.

Gaining courage, the elder stepped forward, now standing by the bed. Regardless of his memory loss, Mikey remained Mikey, their kind little brother, with his presence and sincere words. Leaning down, Leo gently hugged his unexpectedly bewildered brother and whispered in Japanese:

"Welcome home..." a sense of déjà vu flooded Mikey from the familiar unknown words, but he didn't mind, gently stroking the turtle's head with his healthy hand.

Splinter was pleased with the slightly changed Leonardo's aura, even if he would return to the dark side. Right now, his younger brother was needed by all of them.

"Rest, hero. We'll see each other tomorrow," Mikey yawned when his brother stepped back, following the departing ones. "Take care of him, Don, and yourself too. If Sensei told us to rest, it includes you, Dorkatello," Raphael waved his hand without turning around, not facing Donnie.

"And not because you're worried, right?" Donnie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, holding the flashlight.

"Right," he threw it, not turning around, leaving the laboratory, but the coming smile won't leave Raphael's face until tomorrow. And his family doesn't need to know about it; he's a cool guy, after all.

Donnie snorted but knew that his older brothers would probably spend the night in the living room, waiting for a chance to see Mikey again, and they would definitely peek through the open door, which the inventor wouldn't close. They didn't care how uncomfortable the couch was and how they would fit on it; they would definitely do it.

"Goodnight, my sons. Get well, Michelangelo," the mutant rat nodded, calmly folding his hands on his knees. "Leonardo, I hope tomorrow we can discuss what we've been ignoring for so long. The time has come to clear our mind of negative emotions and open up the wounded feelings."

Splinter stroked his beard, stepping a few steps towards the exit, where the eldest son was already standing, tilting his head towards the departed Raphael, after which he left lost in thought, knowing that he wouldn't get confirmation.

Leo still hadn't looked into the two amber lights, just nodded, hastily returned his gaze to his brothers, ignoring his father. "Get well, Mikey, and follow Donnie's instructions, okay? Don, Raph already said it, but don't overstrain yourself. Please."

Mikey didn't nod this time, just glanced into Leo's ocean blue eyes, agreeing, and it seemed he understood, displaying a softer smile than before. Undoubtedly, a smile suits Leonardo more than a face filled with fear and hopelessness in the heart.

Mikey wasn't sure why he was reacting so calmly, but he felt safe.

"Of course, Leader-san. Now, Mikey, I need you to drink this serum. It will normalize your hemoglobin circulation and raise your body temperature," the doctor, digging through the mess on the table. He definitely needed to clean up here.

Finally finding the necessary vial among the papers, Donatello grabbed a spoon and returned to his patient in an uplifted mood. Filling the spoon with the strange muddy-green substance, Mikey reluctantly opened his mouth and swallowed it without attempting to taste the incomprehensible liquid that resembled bile. Leo sympathized, he knew the totally awful taste of what he had to drink. It was the worst thing he had ever tasted in his life. Now this nightmare experience was passed on to Mikey, whose face contorted into a grimace. Mikey managed to overcome himself, through the desire to lick the blanket.

"I'm glad you and Raph managed to find humor now, but I hope this time, because of this miracle medicine, we won't have another swamp maniac showing up wanting to drain all the mutagen from us," Leo commented, causing the younger brother to freeze in tension, although he quickly relaxed due to drowsiness.

Donnie rolled his eyes, noticing that Sensei had already left the laboratory, and he hadn't paid attention.

"Ha-ha, Leo, if you had followed the dosage, nothing would have happened. And now, you're not helping," he reminded, shooting an irritated glance at his brother. Leo innocently shrugged and hurried to retire. "Okay, Mikey, now that we're alone..."

The doctor said no more, just sighed and fixed the blanket that had slipped down a bit when his brother fell asleep.

Sitting at the table, Donnie focused on his work, occasionally glancing at the sleeping Mikey. The pretense of calmness left the room along with the fake smile, as Donatello didn't feel relief deep within himself. And the infirmary was filled only with the sound of the keyboard and the quiet snoring of the turtle.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀For the next week or two, the extensive rehabilitation continued, progressing fairly smoothly. Donnie devised a special schedule for Mikey, spending most of his time with his brother and slowly aiding in his recovery. Mikey, different from his usual talkative self, could only briefly loosen his tongue with speech exercises. It wasn't so much Mikey's fault as it was the effects of the medications continuously administered by Don and sheer exhaustion, inducing sleep during intense therapy.

Leo often discussed the possibility of reducing the dosage to allow Mikey's immunity to independently combat minor internal disruptions. They didn't have that much medicine anyway. After some time, Donnie gave up in this battle, but with the deal that if Mikey's state would worsen, they would revert to the original plan. Everyone noticed Donatello's emerging trend of ultra care. While he took care of Mikey: treating, feeding, and helping in every way he could. He rejected assistance from others, claiming that he could handle it all on his own. No matter how hard Donnie tried, the prospect of his fatigue and self destruction didn't please anyone.

"Dr. Bronatello, I'm bored."

Mikey was showing his naming skill, which was a good sign.

"Understood, but you still have to finish this. We need to continue developing motor functionality and memory; you know that," Don reminded sternly, simultaneously jotting something down in his notebook. "...and Bronatello?"

Mikey pushed the table aside, frowning at the annoying geometric shapes he had been folding for a long time.

"But I've already folded them. Again," he pouted and kicked his legs against the bed. "And calling you that gives me some fun.... for some reason."

Reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the screen, Donnie looked at Mikey, then at the moved table. Standing up, he cracked his neck, the sound audible even to his younger brother.

These sessions yielded significant progress. Initially, Mikey couldn't string together a couple of long sentences, but now he could almost speak without hesitation. His motor skills had also improved, but Donnie strictly forbade full walking, allowing only a few exercises each day under his careful observation. Mikey protested about his easy mobility, but Don noticed the shaky steps instantly.

"Alright, I suppose it would be reasonable to pause for lunch, and then we'll proceed with cryotherapy," Donnie ignored him, lost in thought, while Mikey sighed disappointedly.

"I can help with that," a voice sounded near the exit.

The lab door creaked open, letting a bright stream of light into the room.

"Assist with applying cold treatment to Mikey's headache areas, or try to convince him to eat something from your suspicious food?"

"You cook no better than us, even though cooking is kinda about chemistry," Raph snorted, leaning against the slightly ajar door. "By the way, Sensei is at the stove this time. Seems like we're desperate."

The two turtles peeked to see if there was another elder, sadly but no.

Donnie reluctantly agreed, narrowing his eyes at the bright glare that reached him. Sniffing the air, he caught the pleasant scent food from the kitchen. Was Splinter finally making normal food after all these years of existence? Mikey needs the right food, to promote the growth of lipoproteins enhancing the construction of cholesterol plaques in the vessels, Mikey had to give up his usual food and to a strict diet. It helped him recover from the coma, after the traumatic experience with his heart.

"Hello, Raph," Mikey greeted modestly, burying his nose in the blanket, and the mutant waved to him with a smirk.

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

Mikey responded with a faint smile, glad that someone else had arrived, not taking offense. However, he looked sadly at Donnie, who had been working for long hours. His intelligent brother needed to rest, get some sleep, instead of hiding dark circles under his eyes with a purple mask, and they were undoubtedly there.

"Okay, but remember, the food should not be too hot or too cold, 145-155 °F, neither more nor less, so that all enzymes are better absorbed," Donnie explained.

Mikey buried his head in the blanket, hoping to create a barrier against the wizardly genius with his smart words. Raphael rolled his eyes, approaching the inventor.

"Donniepedia, you have too many requests," Raph interrupted him, slapped the turtle's shell, squeezing out a characteristic. "Ow!" from him, and he fell silent. "Warm, got it. Sit back, relax, buddy. You need to take a break too, you're scaring us all, y'know?"

Michelangelo giggled genuinely, melting the hearts of his older brothers, who were not used to Mikey's constant laughter, which had been replaced by a weakened and awkward mutant.

"Just bring me some coffee," Don finally responded, yawning.

Frowning, Raph said nothing in response to the request, heading to where his father was. He suppressed the urge to slam the iron door behind him, afraid of scaring Mikey. The ninja's heavy footsteps as well as his bad mood didn't go unnoticed by the old rat.

Entering the small but bright kitchen, Raph noticed the focused Splinter stirring something in the pot. Without paying much attention to it, he took out two pairs of plates and cups from the top right cabinet.

"Is something bothering you, Raphael?"

Almost dropping the dishes, Raph felt cold sweat run down his back from Sensei's voice. Why does everyone like to ask questions after someone has turned their back, and it's not about ninja skills, but simple etiquette?

"Not really, Sensei," he slowly replied, placing the dishes on the countertop in confusion.

He noticed that their sensei had begun to spend more time with them or perhaps attempting to, although it seemed like there was some conflict between the fearless leader and him. Splinter's whiskers twitched in interest, and out of the corner of his eye, he watched Raphael, who approached the coffee maker but hesitated to turn it on.

Not thinking long, the father guessed why his child had come here and what he was going to do next.

"I am listening, my son," he insisted, picking up one of the plates and filling it with food.

"Just... I feel useless about my brothers," Raph sighed heavily, folding his arms on his chest, finally deciding to share. "Mikey still doesn't remember us, Don is overworking himself, and Leo avoids everyone like an idiot, as if it helps," he admitted, sparing the colorful curses in front of his father and lowering his head.

Splinter closed his eyes, silently placing two hot plates on the tray, inadvertently tapping his tail on the floor, understanding the problem of his second eldest son. The worst part in such situations is the need for waiting. Time heals all wounds, sometimes completely, and sometimes only partially, but the concept of time is relative. And it's challenging to understand such things, even for Yoshi himself, as one can't accurately predict the outcome of the inflicted damage.

"My son, do you think my cooking is unnecessary?" he asked in a steady tone, opening his eyes. Raph hurriedly shook his head, "Why? Can food remind Michelangelo of us? Help Donatello find inner peace or calm Leonardo's anxious thoughts?”

Raphael thought, frowning. The answer was obvious, but even the wisest in their family couldn't help them? It's impossible to count how many times sincere advice saved them from different life situations, so why didn't it work now?

"Not every one of our actions, not every step we take, can change something so fast. We are just moving slowly toward our goal," Splinter filled the cups with tea. "You are doing the right thing, Raphael, in your old father's humble opinion."

"I am?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, my son, you are," Sensei smiled. "You are following your heart, taking care of your family, directly expressing your feelings, not just with words but with actions. Your brothers, however, need time to understand some things. All we can do is wait for them to open up to us, but that doesn't mean we do nothing for them."

A bit confused, Raph agreed with his father's words.

There was a sense in it, however strange it might sound.

"Thanks, dad," Raph awkwardly thanked, which he rarely did, especially in this form, briefly embracing the tall figure.

Splinter was caught by surprise but tenderly returned the gesture, leaning lower and rubbing the shell. It didn't last long, but it seemed to be enough when Raph stepped back, slightly embarrassed.

"Any time, my son. And yes, tell Donatello, until he rests, he is forbidden to drink coffee," Sensei said, folding his hands behind his back, only now noticing the two plates. "Raphael, are you not going to have lunch?"

Taking the tray, Raph grinned, looking at his father before leaving and threw back only:

"Younger ones first, then the elders."

The tall rat smiled in response, understanding his son's hint. He definitely should leave another pair of plates and cups before Raphael comes back.

It seemed like they were starting to act more like a normal family. The situation around Michelangelo made each of them step out of their comfort zone to reflect on many things.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀The guy entered the laboratory not in a hurry, witnessing a funny scene: Mikey, wrapped in a blanket cocoon, resisted letting Donnie go from embrace, attempting to wrap him in another blanket. However, Don, in turn, tried to free himself from the warm captivity without touching his brother.

"Delivery, sign here."

Approaching these amusing subjects, he placed the tray and pulled a chair next to the bed, sitting down with them.

Meanwhile, Donnie, who'd been confused for a moment, was rolled up and wrapped in a yellow blanket, glancing at Mikey and Raph. but finally his eyes settled on the drinks.

"This isn't coffee," he declared with a displeased tone, raising his head in a lying position. "And please, tell me the second lunch is yours?"

"Coffee is not rest or food. Sensei said, and I quote: ‘until you relax, no caffeine in your blood, Donatello,’" Raphael grinned in response. "And you need food too. How about those metabolism boosting things you so passionately tell Mikey about? Huh?"

"Wait a minute, no coffee?" Don gasped, instantly sitting up.

"No coffee," he confirmed.

Looking back at the food, Don shook his head, demonstratively refusing it. Raph impatiently tapped his foot, as he hadn't seen Donnie take a single bite during Mikey's awakening. He would bet that Mikey hadn't seen anything other than coffee himself. Mikey clicked disapprovingly, shaking his head.

"He's right, you should eat more, Doc."

What the youngest brother learned during this time was that the doctor was an extremely stubborn person, with a clear tendency to help others at the expense of himself. But there was something twisting in Donatello's soul. All of his brothers, especially the eldest, whom he had only seen a few times since awakening, seemed unusually sad. It became incredibly sad, and the reason probably lay in lost memory, as Mikey thought.

However, it was irritating because no one really told him about what had happened.

Somewhere there was a hidden secret, the truth concealed in this horrific event of their lives, but Mikey tried to understand them. Watching his saddened brothers was more painful than giving in to his own anger.

Mikey looks away as if lost in the room, thinking more, hearing only distant voices. Ah... he could feel the cold air, the wind blowing in his face until he smelled something burning. The New York's stars, so beautiful and unattainable, while the ties up a little higher from the wind... huh, a mask?

He blinked as he touched his head, not feeling the fabric on his face. Or those feelings. The turtle frowned in slight pain with a heavy sigh.

His attention returns to the other two, having difficulty remembering what the conversation was about.

"I have one condition... then I'll eat," a brilliant idea flashed in the ninja's mind, and the two brothers exchanged confused glances. Mikey raised his right hand and gently poked Donnie's cheek, "You have to eat with me and rest... please. That's my main request."

Donatello had no time to resent such a horrible request when Mikey removed his hand from his face as his older brother puffed up his cheeks. Mikey is holding back a chuckle. Donnie shared a look, clearly stating that he wasn't happy with the situation, but he folded his hands and closed his mouth.

"Don, did you hear him? You have no choice. Mikey is a rebel, you knew it. He learned from the best." Raphael sighed, leaning back on the chair.

"Yep! I AM!- Wait... am I?"

Donnie was oddly uncomfortable, but then he smiled nostalgically, quite faintly.

"It reminds me of childhood, Mikey used to make you eat soups when you were sick."

"What? No, that never happened," Raph retorted sharply, stopping his banter and giving a threatening look to Donnie.

Mikey was a bit disappointed, feeling left out of these moments, so he pulled the blue blanket tighter in hopes of hiding. One thing made him happy, apparently even then, he cared about his family just like now. Michelangelo was filled with the purest curiosity.

"If you don't mind, could you tell me more about us?" he asked slowly, leaning on Donnie with his undamaged shoulder, smiling shyly.

He knew very little about the outside world, but one thing was clear: a giant turtle was an unwelcome guest for Earth's inhabitants. Correction, a mutant ninja teenage turtle, as he had been told. It sounded absurdly funny, but when he saw himself from head to toe in green with a shell on his back, it was much easier to believe. They also told him about the sad fate of Hamato Yoshi, his father and sensei, as well as his wife Tang Shen and daughter Miwa. Compassion settled heavily on that fateful evening, but if he didn't misunderstand what he heard, then his step sister survived, and they even managed to bring her back.

Unfortunately, no one bothered to provide Mikey with details, but he didn't blame them as he had slept a lot, unbelievably too much, which made Raph start joking. In reality, he managed to lighten the tenseness between them with his sarcasm, most likely on a nervous basis.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" Don seemed to have resigned himself to his fate, grabbing a cup and sipping slowly. "Hot... you'll have to wait a bit to drink."

Deep in thought, Michelangelo decided not to press on the sensitive topic about himself for them. Though he wouldn't mind getting more information, it was better to ask Master Splinter or maybe later them all; there was no guarantee his brothers wouldn't lose the current atmosphere.

"Are you all really this bad at cooking?"

"We just haven't had to, that's all," grumbled Raph. "Actually, you're supposed to be our chef." This time, Raphael catches a glance from Donnie, a clear hint for a more friendly tone.

"Really? Oops, sorry for letting you starve without me," Mikey shut up in shy silence, feeling off again. So he can cook?

In general, Mikey didn't understand many things. First, why did everyone in this lair believe in him so strongly? Even him. By logic, he should have jumped from them with wide eyes, but nothing. It just felt normal, as it should be. Although, according to Donnie, he was injected with some painkillers, probably ibuprofen or morphine; no wonder he took everything so calmly, especially with the second drug option. It seemed he almost had an arterial bleed from his shoulder or something close to it, but fortunately, there were small stitches. At times, Mikey couldn't stop staring at the cardiac monitor not long from his bed. Although he had heard that he might have lost one of his arms.

"It's not your fault," Don smiled wryly, reaching out to touch Mikey. "Actually, Leo can cook ramen and noodles. He'd been practicing cooking before you lost your memory. Though he's still banned from the kitchen....."

Leo.

His older brother, who rarely appeared. Why didn't he visit more often? Sometimes Mikey wondered if it was his fault that they avoided him or if Leo just needed some time to himself after what happened. Moreover, when Mikey woke up, there was a mention of a similar condition Leo had experienced once. Did he also fall into a coma?

Sometimes, he could hear arguments. Donnie waved them off, but the voices clearly belonged to the tall rat and the turtle with a blue mask. He wondered what conflict there was between them.

The guy blinked.

What happened to his concentration? It seems he missed part of the conversation, how awkward.

"...We also order pizza, and sometimes we eat pizza gyoza from Murakami-san." At the mention of food or the name of the restaurant owner, Mikey twitched and smiled.

"Wow, you're aware that's not very healthy?" he joked slightly, but still skeptical about this news. "You're a ninja... we are? And that kinda stuff is harmful in general, I thought?"

"I don't believe what I'm hearing," Raph said with interest, raising an eyebrow towards Don, catching a disapproving pair of amber eyes on himself. "You have the weirdest appetite among us. Once you made pizza with... geez, not just once... with jelly beans, anchovies and jalapeños. Let's say, earth and worms, the most harmless things that could be there sometimes."

"Omigosh... s-seriously? Worms?"

"Well, worms are protein. We've been eating them with algae all our lives, so it's not that bad," Raph shrugs.

"Mhm, Mikey's stomach remains a worldwide mystery even for me to this day, but maybe it's because we grew up not on the most ordinary diet. We're turtles, don't forget, or maybe Mikey is just that unique," Donatello said casually, halfway through his drink.

"I don't even know if I should be offended or not," he snorted, moving away from Donnie, grabbing his soft pillow.

His brothers burst into the most sincere laughter they'd had in a long time, not loud but not too quiet. Riding this wave of a fun mood, Michelangelo couldn't help but giggle. They were having fun, so not everything was so bad.

As Mikey's mind became more stable, he treated everyone with caution but tried not to show it. Over time, he became more friendly.

Then again, what if everything around him was a lie, and the actors were talented? Or was there another, darker script? Was he going insane, lying somewhere in a white, empty room, unwanted, tied in a straitjacket, and quietly or loudly delirious?

Thinking about the last scenario was the last thing he wanted, so he redirected his thoughts back to the family.

Mikey didn't fully understand the relationships between the brothers and Master Splinter, but he didn't object much. He was getting along well with his family, and the initial awkwardness between them disappeared over time, only occasionally reminding him of its existence.

"And... was Leo in a coma too?" Mikey squeezed out, hugging the pillow. The faces of his brothers instantly changed from smiles to clear fear. Raph looked very tense, and Donnie glanced at the entrance door as clearly wanting to escape.

Why did he even decide to ask this? What happened to his filter? The mutant covers his mouth with his hand. Of course this is a sensitive topic, he should have waited.

Raphael clenched his fists so tightly that they even turned pale in some places, and Mikey nervously swallowed, feeling his throat dry up. Who would expect positive emotions in response to such a question? While Michelangelo mentally scolded himself, Raph's tense shoulders lowered after a moment. It seemed his older brother was trying to deal with his own war in his head.

"...After the Krang attacked New York, Leo fought with many enemies, including the Shredder," Raphael began unexpectedly, covering his eyes. Mikey shuddered but nodded, listening. "We only found out when he crashed through the window of our temporary shelter. Sensei disappeared, and we had to run. Hide outside the city, no home, unknown future and Leo fell into a coma for three months."

The names sounded familiarly unpleasant, leaving a bitter aftertaste, and the story itself sounded terribly, incredibly sad and heavy. Did they really have to go through something like that? They were still kids, not even seventeen, even if they were mutants, but still. Three months... Usually, if people don't wake up within one, then the chance of awakening decreases with each passing day. Perhaps the DNA of the turtles played a role here as well?

"Three months? That long?"

"Yes... we were helpless. Neither April's telepathy nor even my knowledge of genetics could help," Donnie added in a whisper, hugging himself. The emerald eyes of Raphael narrowed unfavorably at his brother.

Looking at Donatello's already bitten lips, and then at Raphael's deadly gaze, which literally said, "We seem to have been through this already, no pity party, Don," These guys sometimes don't know how to relax, for sure.

Mikey took a deep breath.

"April, is she our friend? The human... red girl, right? I've seen her a couple of times, but I was too sleepy," Mikey innocently bounced, dispelling the lingering awkwardness between them.

The younger one ignored the surprised emerald eyes; it seemed his brother with the red bandana suddenly understood something for himself. Perhaps exactly what Mikey was trying to do, but he kept silent. Instead, he grabbed two warm plates and handed them to the two brothers.

"Yeeeeah, our friend," Raphael smirked satisfied, playing along, "Donnie's giiiiirlfriend."

Mikey sparkled, covering his mouth again.

Well, it was damn funny to witness the change in the usually stoic Donatello, who raised an eyebrow at Raph's words.

"Holy Chalupa. Really? Why do all our conversations always boil down to making fun of me about April? Years have passed. For your information, I've outgrown that phase. We're just friends, f r i e n d s," Donnie snorted, sipping something under his breath.

After a few seconds, he choked.

Raph punched him on the plastron. Somehow, the brute force helped the young teenager from suffocating, and Don managed to cough.

"....Ha- Why hasn't April visited us in a couple of days? I haven't seen her and Casey for a while," Donnie a bit panicked, spilling the remaining liquid from his cup onto the floor. Raph's hands itched, and there was an opportunity to scratch two problems at once.

Hitting the inventor's smart head again, Donnie hissed at the elder brother.

Raph had gone too far with his punches of 'wisdom' today. Well, at some point, Don would ask him for help with some gadget testing... Then he would get back at him for his overconfident avoidance of situations.

Who canceled Donatello's instructive lessons for the elder ones?

Nobody. Revenge would be terrible.

"When was the last time you checked your t-phone, genius? I bet the battery died a long time ago," sitting back down, Raph felt around for some towel on the chair, throwing it at Donnie's face. Mikey, on the other hand, tried to hold back the impending giggles but ended up choking on air, squeaking into his pillow.

Donnie's facial expressions slowly transformed into some concern. Weakness was felt in his fingers on the tightly squeezed cloth.

After what happened, he somehow forgot about such a little thing as his own phone. He had other priorities, and their human friends were fine, right?

Mikey stopped teasing; his eyebrows drew together over his nose, and the corners of his mouth drooped.

Don's eyes fell on his plate, slowly but surely, he nodded in agreement. The appetite disappeared somewhere, and poking at the food with a fork brought only a drop of pleasure.

"Donnie, you have to eat. Stop burning a hole in your food," Raph chuckled, relaxed, "They're 'kay. They just got a cold, when they left here last time, they got caught in the rain, got soaked, and became losers with snot."

"Why didn't anyone tell me? I have to go see them."

"Don't get ahead of the train. It's a stupid cold, not a krang virus or space poison or anything else," these arguments didn't really convince the doctor. "They asked me not to tell, especially April. She said you need to focus on Mikey's rehabilitation, and catching a cold wouldn't be fun at all."

"And you agreed?" Donnie pursed his lips.

Mikey raised an eyebrow, holding his breath. Donatello was too emotional.

Is this... Is this normal? Is it supposed to be like this? He bit his tongue, unable to answer. To know nothing, to remember nothing, to forget, it's strange for two reasons.

Easy because nothing ties you down, but scary because you're not connected to anyone, not even to yourself.

"Of course not, so I shut up," he growled in response, remembering the last conversation with the hoarse girl. "Wanna give a piece of your mind? Go ahead, but not to me. I didn't sign up to be a mommy, find Leo. Besides, she's your woman, not mine. Add Casey to the list or something."

Crossing his arms, Raphael smugly finished. He was right, and he knew it.

Donnie opened his mouth but couldn't squeeze anything out, turning his head away and silently starting to eat, muttering:
"You always talk like that about Mona. God... I just want to do science."

A few times, Mikey blinked, hesitating to insert his words into this conversation.

The mutant put a spoonful into his mouth, savoring it. Suddenly chuckling with pleasure, he repeated the action, pleasantly shuddering.

"Deliciojs"

"Don't talk with your full mouth," the sai master wiped his nose in disapproval when Mikey accidentally spat on him, "what have we been teaching him for so many years? All is lost."

"Not that he had any etiquette before..."

"But the taazty is noh metallix," he protested, loudly smacking, a sound that seemed to echo throughout the room. Although he covers his mouth with his hand afterwards, shy, it makes him feel better. The food brought him so much pleasure and he didn't know why. He could see some kind of melancholy in others. Did he remind them of something bad? Well, he was too hungry to think much about it or feel guilty.

The contents of the plate disappeared quickly into the turtle's mouth.

Giggling to himself, Mikey rocks slightly back and forth, placing his hand on his cheek.

"Take your time, the food won't run away, Mikey. By the way, its a good sign that you're getting better. Perhaps we really are bad cooks."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Donnie snorted, silently chewing his food.

Mikey finished his portion with great enthusiasm. He decided not to share his assumptions about the truly terrible ninja cooking skills.

"I know what you were thinking," Raphael suddenly flared up uncomfortably on the chair, which creaked under him. "Yeah, the food wasn't fancy, but we tried. At least it reached the edible level."

Yawning, Mikey stared in confusion at his sarcastic brother. Was he so interested in arguing about nothing, or was he getting rid of stress in this way? The corners of Mikey's mouth lifted slightly, and he involuntarily covered his opened mouth with his hand again.

A small smile subtly appeared on the younger one's face when the disgruntled Raphael removed the falling plate from his knee.

It seemed that these two started chatting about some topic, occasionally arguing, but apparently, the past disagreement was left aside. Mikey didn't like that his eyelids started to feel heavy, and blinking excessively didn't help shake off the drowsiness.

He still had so many questions, both about himself and about them. He wanted to know more. More about how to stop being a stranger in this house.

Donnie's shoulder turned out not as bad a pillow as it might seem at first. The main thing is to get used to it, and then it's a piece of cake. The blanket that slipped off some time ago from his shoulders with magic covered him again, probably because of Raph.

Oh well, he probably needs to wait for next time. He almost didn't hear the third voice that appeared near the door, two turtles were talking to someone else, until he was patted on the head. Well, that gentle voice was habitually soothing.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀The clicking of the keyboard was not quite the symphony Michelangelo expected upon waking up. Squinting, and then narrowing his eyes at the faded familiar purple color, rubbing eyes.

Doctor Donatello was typing something incessantly on the laptop again, but over the past few days, his observant position had shifted to the patient's bed. Some progress over time. Almost a normal rest.

Casting a sidelong glance at the screen, it displayed many abbreviations and symbols with values Mikey didn't know, but they seemed terribly familiar to him. As if he had seen it somewhere before, as if he could write some formulas from memory; when Don scrolled down, some images flickered.

About the workaholic inventor himself, he looked, to put it mildly, crumpled: the purple mask had shifted a bit, but the owner seemed not to care too much. It seemed like he was dozing off from time to time, judging by Mikey's previous yawns, but this time, the case was a bit heavier. Donnie occasionally pinched his arm, occasionally massaging his neck.

Apparently, for Donnie's body, the last straw was the food. After eating, the body demanded rest, to which the guy didn't agree too much.

The clock showed late evening, almost night, and he still couldn't sleep, although he promised.

And he looks at him in silence for some time, with an uncertain gaze, wanting to say something. He couldn't say that he much trusted this person without memories... it was just some feeling, and every time the so called brother looked at him, he could feel warmth. Yet now, he was just a shadow of the one this turtle loved. Mikey struggled with the desire to ignore Donnie, weighing the options with doubt. How could he trust them, him? How could he start doing it more? However, he saw how the smartest guy in the lair processed, how he was looking for answers, probably related to him, without a break, as if he could lose him. His scar unpleasantly pulsated on his arm, and his heart weighed heavy in his chest from seeing Donatello in such a state.

The best thing he could do for him, at least, was to express gratitude:

"Why aren't you sleeping?" The soft, hoarse voice, waking up, was enough to make the other flinch, sharply pulling his fingers away from the laptop, as if he were caught.

"Oh... Mikey, I'm working," he mumbled indistinctly, looking towards his brother, finally noticing his presence, "sorry, did I wake you up? You fell asleep, on me, and then... it was hard to move."

Shaking his head, Mikey slowly sat up, moving closer to Don, leaning on his shoulder.

He had the time to go to sleep, but chose to overwork, probably bringing inner peace. And yet, he didn't like it. It wasn't a good thing. If Michelangelo could fold his arms across his chest, he would definitely do it.

"Lie back down, you need to rest," the keyboard played the familiar melody again as Don's hand gently rubbed the mutant's head.

Mikey welcomed the affection, but not the reason for this tenderness.

"Says you."

"You can't keep working like this... you want me to be okay, but it doesn't seem like you... you look so tired," the younger spoke from the heart, pulling part of the blanket.

And dark amber eyes finally looked at the other, and the expression was one of the rarest to be seen on Michelangelo that Donnie could ever remember. A sadness in his eyes, mixed with persistence, irritation, and great concern. Maybe Don wasn't an expert in such matters, but so many emotions in one facial expression from his brother were so elusive. Did he not always seem the most sensitive of them all? Ow, his head hurts. Why did this question only surface now? The answer was not found; he was too tired for analysis and random thoughts.

Yet, Donnie felt how this look was more overwhelming, he didn't like seeing Mikey so serious.

"And do I have a choice?" he sighed, putting the laptop on the bedside table.

For some reason, he thought that he lost this battle as soon as he looked into those aquamarine eyes.

"Nope."

They both knew where it would lead. It was a victory for the younger one, Donnie knew, but now he couldn't argue and was irritated. And yet, intuition and just glances within the B Team were more than words, although it was usually the other way around.

Anyways, Donnie was tired, and a little sleep wouldn't hurt.

Donatello felt a great weakness spreading throughout his body. His brother remained silent, but he could tell that he was observing him very attentively. Studying, perhaps, to see if he was trying to trick him, avoiding the unnecessary thing called sleep.

He yawned after forty seconds, feeling his body leaning somewhere to the side.

The heavy fifty seconds were instantly felt as someone gently helped him land his thought filled head on the pillow. There was so much he needed to do for the family. He didn't want to fall asleep because he missed other important people in his life like April and Casey. If he sleeps, nightmares might return, making it harder to think and easier to blame himself.

He was afraid to sleep, to see again how his brother weakly smiled with tenderness and blood around.

Could the situation have turned out better if he had listened more and talked less, like now?

"Mikey... I'm really sorry," Donnie couldn't open his eyes, no matter how hard he tried, he muttered quietly, hugging the younger turtle as if afraid that he would disappear while his consciousness was sinking into sleep.

The younger one bit his lip, unsure if this apology was meant for him. He felt like a thief.

"Donnie, everything's fine. You're amazing. Please, get some sleep," gently, with one hand, Mikey managed to cover him with a blanket, pressing closer, "thanks for taking care of me..."

"I... he wouldn't want you to be in so much pain."

Mikey rubs the edge of his shell, sometimes catching the mask ties with his fingers, hearing only a quiet, barely noticeable sob. Oh. It was still awkward for him. Donnie looked like a man who always had a plan and things under control. Was this normal? Was he allowed to see this? The forever hardworking, slightly strict, and sarcastic Doctor, flinched in his arms. Almost guiltily, he presses him closer.

"...You're still him... you're so kind, you always have been... I'm sorry... sorry that I didn't listen to you more.... never thought that silence could be so loud... I'm so sorry, Michelangelo..."

Was it right to comfort someone without knowing them? Anyways, he was right, he was too kind, and something called out when his lips trembled slightly, and his gaze got wet without his permission. Dark as a storm cloud, the emotions surrounding the inventor made him want to give something in return, because, after all, they were brothers, right?

"...Then I'll try to fill this silence. You're not alone, Donnie... I'm here."

He leans into the other, staying like that for some time, feeling sobs getting louder, and tears falling like a waterfall in the lab. Mikey didn't let go. His hands clumsily clenched and unclenched, blinking back tears. How could he? No matter who was to blame for what happened earlier, it couldn't be changed now. One could only move on with the consequences. Wasn't that what Master Splinter used to say?

After some time, Donatello's voice quieted down, and the buttons on the keyboard no longer clicked. The taller turtle's mouth remained slightly open, despite the noticeable traces of tears on his face, calmly inhaling and exhaling, but due to the gap in his teeth, there was a slight whistling sound.

The younger teenager slowly pulls away, trying not to creak the bed. Lost in thought for a moment, he didn't notice how his hand lifted the purple mask, removing it from the eyes. Not at all surprised, Mikey examined the dark circles under the eyes.

It seemed familiar. And he gently patted the other's head.

"Goodnight, Doc."

A faint sound from the slightly open door made him sharpen his hearing.

It was unusual, considering the quite late hour. Startled, Mikey sharply turned his gaze to Donnie. Exhaling tension from his lungs, he was glad that his doctor didn't wake up from the sound.

Someone else couldn't sleep either?

Maybe it's the night raiders? Hold on, they're giant mutant ninja turtles living in the sewers. Absurd. Still, Mikey became alert, slowly sliding off the bed, trying not to make unnecessary noise as he stood up.

He didn't want to leave his brother, but this was a chance.

His guardian was in a deep sleep, meaning no one would interfere with him sneaking out to see something interesting happening beyond these four boring walls.

The concrete was, as always, barely warm, but why not lay down some carpets for comfort? Did those bandages on his feet really help so much? Too many questions in the last two minutes for Mikey.

Quietly heading to the door, he occasionally glanced at the bed but mostly examined various devices near the wall. On one of them, he noticed a note that read. 'Don't touch, Mikey.' He froze, his head buzzing a bit, feeling a cold shiver from the line of text. Perhaps Donnie suspected his potential curiosity. But what if it was from before the incident?

No answers.

Shaking his head, he headed towards the exit. His steps were steady, no deviations right or left, which was somewhat comforting, but not as firm as he'd like. The turtle had to admit that weakness was present and definitely not going away.

However, glancing at his sweet snoring brother, he chuckled with a half smile, leaving the lab.

He decided to follow his intuition somewhere, and if anything happened, he could shout in case of danger or hit whatever came to hand.

Descending the stairs and passing by the television, he walked along the small pool of surprisingly clean water. There were probably filters there.

It seemed like he was heading towards the dojo. It was possible that someone was training, so the noise could be coming from there.

He needed to go up to the arches where the dojo was, passing by the yellowish room, probably the kitchen. In his head, he made a mental note to check it out somehow.

He loved this place. His head hurt, but it seemed like he knew every corner here. As if he could name every dent and scratch and where they came from. However...

The weakness in his body turned out to be stronger than Mikey thought. But why be surprised when you lie in bed all day, taking medicine, recovering from a coma after injuries. Also, a new buzzing headache at the back of his head didn't give him strength, his eyes hurt, and the pain is coming to the front of his head.

This time, the dojo doors were closed. Strangely, he didn't remember the steps in front of the Japanese-style door. Unexpectedly, the partition shook and creaked, moving aside to reveal a turtle in a blue mask with his head bowed down.

When he closed the dojo with a sigh, Mikey squeaked softly, dispelling his brother's deep thoughts.

Leo swallowed, completely stunned.

"Mikey?"

The green skin slightly gleamed, not like usual. Mikey guessed that he had been training, but Leonardo looked somewhat upset. Was there someone else behind the door?

A whirlwind of questions from the past few days swirled in the younger one's head.

He wanted to know everything, every detail, but Mikey was at a loss.

"Hey?" he awkwardly fiddled with his hands.

"Are you okay? Where's Donnie? Can you walk already? Why aren't you in bed?"

And Leo didn't stop asking questions.

It seemed as if he didn't want to interrogate him but, on the contrary, be interrogated.

Yet, it appeared that both of them shared some thoughts and feelings.

Mikey felt a warm nostalgia for knowing things he seemingly didn't remember.

He just knew that Leonardo was like this. And it seemed like he wasn't going to stop until Mikey did something or said something.

Leo had strong hands, and also very warm, soft, and gentle.

And, for some reason, Mikey felt a sense of sadness, and his eyes unpleasantly ached...

"Hey, onii-chan! Let's hurry up or else the guys will find us before times up"!

Children's voices exchanged words in Japanese. A little freckled turtle with starry eyes was pulling his older brother by the hand somewhere around the lair, quiet laughter echoing around. Another turtle follows, seemingly not too concerned about losing; a blue bandana hangs around his neck.

"Otōto, don't run so fast, or you might..."

Leo's words became prophetic when the little buddy stumbled, but another child pulled him towards himself, causing Mikey to be caught in his hug, emitting a squeak. The boy with the blue mask fell to the floor with a soft sigh, sitting awkwardly.

He looked at Mikey, who froze with concern:

"Are you okay, otōto?"

"Oh... mhm? You saved me, Leo, you're the best!"

A bright childlike smile adorned the older one's face, and his gaze softened, unable to scold his baby brother when he pulled him close. Both turtles chattered with each other, not letting go. Mikey gently rubbed his cheek against Leo's, giggling, while the other one patted his head, leaning forward for touches. Their blue eyes sparkled as they continued to chirp in the soft turtle language until they heard other boys nearby, and Leo reached out to help the other up.

"We need to run before they catch us, Mikey. We still need to see the new Space Heroes episode."

"M'kay, onii-chan... I love you, hehe..." The little guy covers his mouth with one hand, giggling, watching as the other, embarrassed but joyful, mumbles similar words in response.

...The image from the distant past seemed to freeze before his eyes: the tots, and he was one of them, and another with a blue bandana, was pulling him by the hand. He turned, seeing that it happened in the same place, and... his headache intensified. Mikey had to bite his lip, touching his head, feeling the onset of a worse, sharp, pulsating, dull pain, as if a puck had hit him in the back of his head.

His stomach twisted, and his face paled, while his lips trembled.

Yet, other cold eyes seemed to notice his ingravescent condition, so concerned, wishing to help. When Leo's hands ended up on his shoulders, gently supporting him? The headache didn't get any easier, although it seemed to be gradually, but unexpectedly sharply.

What was this at all? A flashback?

And without hesitation, Mikey reaches out to touch the palms of the other, squeezing gently, despite feeling like he might throw up.

"Mikey? Are you okay? I'll call-"

The teenager shakes his head, waving it off.

"...no, no- I'm fine, onii-chan."

Leo looked like a fish again. Oh, what did he just say? Onii-chan? Mikey touches his mouth in confusion as that new, familiar word comes out. Why did he say this? Why does Leo have this reaction? This pronunciation was still on the tip of his tongue, while his gaze was also questioning whether it was right to say this, looking into the blue eyes of the elder.

Leo isn't going to get angry, is he? He's not trying to show off.

Mikey doesn't know why, but he knows it's Japanese. He knows he just said 'big brother.' It seems like it was always there, and before his eyes, he sees the image of a lil turtle holding his hand and leading him somewhere.

A fragment of a memory? He chokes a bit, realizing it with wide eyes. It hit him like a flash of joy, suddenly moving when a migraine hit him. The turtle hisses quietly in pain. He tries to focus more on the present, as attempts to grasp memories further cause unbearable pain.

Mikey realizes that he can subconsciously read the emotional side of the situation better now. And now he was sure he felt another, yet happiness proved to be stronger than the pain.

"I missed you too... and much more."

And deeper, more mature blue eyes look at the face covered in freckles, and then at the hands that were squeezing. Cold as usual.

And he blinks again.

"Otōto... I- You...?" seemingly a gamma of contradictions in each of the boy's words when the younger comfortingly rubs his palms with his fingers.

He... called him little brother.

"A bit. I remembered how, in childhood, you often held my hand, and we chatted in English and Japanese, playing around..." and that was indeed something he could remember now, as Mikey laughs softly with glassy eyes, "Leo, you like stars and space... how could I forget? Forget you... and others-"

And now there was a lump in his throat.

Sadness in his emotions. "I want to remember you all so much... you all care about me, and I can't even do anything."

How Donnie spent all his time trying to find a solution, how Raph helped as much as he could, despite his sharp tongue, how Leo looked at him, welcoming him in any form, even warm fatherly hugs warmed him on dark days.

Only now he could feel how, actually watching others, he wanted to know more about them, to remember. He started to get attached, and when he remembered something, he realized that he couldn't imagine life now without that piece, and there were thousands he lost.

This melancholy was hard on his soul.

And now the leader's hands tightened more distinctly, taking a very emotional breath. It felt heavier in his soul, and he wanted to cry. Everyone surrounded him with care, and he couldn't give them anything in return. How could he forget?

"It's not your fault..."

"Nor yours either," the younger brother gently returned.

Leo shook his head, glanced away with guilt as he loosened and clenched his fingers, slightly calming down when he changed position to embrace the other, not that anyone objected. And so they stood in comfortable silence, hugging, as if they found each other again. It was scary to miss his brother, even if it was just a little flashback.

Mikey exhales very slowly, still thinking that he lacks at least telling them what happened to him. Why did every turtle look so down when mentioning that incident? He means, he knows, why, but still. How was he supposed to deal with it if everyone stayed silent?

Anyway.

"Everything will go back to normal, I promise," Mikey promises, trying to suppress fatigue, breaking the silence after a while.

Looking embarrassed, Leo holds him closer, still refusing to let go. It was reassuring to hear those words from the younger one, but it didn't cancel the fact that their leader deliberately avoided the whole team sometimes, including Michelangelo.

They shouldn't console him. Quite the opposite.

"Leo, you don't need to say anything, I understand," he smiled gently, although his body was no longer coping with the simple task of standing, "just don't distance yourself anymore, 'kay? I'm sure I will remember. All of you."

Mikey wasn't sure why he said it all so confidently, why he knew those were the right words. He just knew that his older brother needed it.

"You've grown up so much."

"Are we not all the same age, huh?"

Suppressing a smirk, Leo snorted.

"Nah, you're still our baby brother."

Was his younger brother always this insightful? Read him without any memories. Almost creepy emotional potential. Did their sensei not speak of this part either? Oh, he's trying not to think about father for now.

And yet, Mikey's words warmed his heart, but it was hard not to notice how his legs were shaking. The guy could barely stand and looked... horribly pale. Leo was concerned, holding his brother in place, hugging him tightly.

"You need to get back to bed, otōto."

It was logical, but now, when stars from the past still twinkled before his eyes, he was a little afraid to be alone. So, he shakes his head, leaning on the other's body.

Ha, stubbornness was probably in the genes.

"I want to stay with you a little longer… what if... I forget again."

And Leo is silent, sighing, and then agrees, lifting him up, to the quiet Mikey's squeak, as they head towards the living room, to settle on the couch and watching their (Leo's) favorite show, full of stars and space, which the younger brother seemed to be delighted with, pressing closer.

And they slightly hug, Leo tries to give the other more space, as reflections of white and blue flicker in his eyes.

"I love you, otōto..."

And now the innocent but tender gaze is directed towards the older one.

"...Oh- I..... will you say it again when I remember everything, please?" the other asks with a little hope, semi sleepy and sick.

"As many times as you want, Mikey."

In gratitude, he hugs closer, he didn't have the strength or desire to do anything with it. His head hurt terribly, and drowsiness dulled it.

"Ow, thanks, onii-chan..."

"Anytime."

Leo had a gentle smile as he lulled another with a quiet lullaby, all worries and anxieties temporarily went out the door when the younger one fell asleep on the couch, where the second eldest probably found them in the morning with a slight relief.

Michelangelo sincerely believes that the pain in his head was worth it, and maybe he'll have to start getting used to it.

Chapter Text

"It's so unfair that of all of them, it was that hermit's ass that he remembered."

"Raph, it was just a childhood memory, I don't think it can count."

"Then why are you grinning ear to ear, asshole?"

"We don't have ears."

There was the old familiar squabble between the two older turtles, which Mikey unwittingly watched while Donnie successfully ignored them to just run a couple tests. They returned to the lab, which the light green turtle reluctantly stayed in, but still, the other was a little calmer that way. Mikey was glad that Donnie looked more cheerful, it would seem that sleep and... a small breakdown did him good. Neither of them talked about last night, there was no opportune moment, but they exchanged slightly awkward but knowing glances.

He could see Leo's face had changed considerably: his gaze was clearer, more mischievous and collected, especially when he couldn't stop smiling softly, even though he had to run away from the guy in the red mask. And the one who was chasing the other turtle didn't seem too upset, though he might have realized that the other one was being hurt.

"That's a very good sign that memory recovery is quite possible in our case," blinking, Mikey returned his unfocused concentration to the smartest guy in the room. "I was worried it might go to the very worst scenario."

The two brothers stopped chatting, paying attention to those words.

Oh, Mikey smiled a little awkwardly.

"So I have a pretty good chance to remember everyone, Doc?"

"That's right. However, it's still a pretty serious injury that we can't really affect..." the inventor shook his head, looking thoughtful as he sat with Michelangelo on the bed. Rest seemed to do him some good as well.

And that's where Raph comes into this conversation:

"So... are there any ways to help him remember us faster?"

Those words made the younger man glow, nodding. He thought about how sad it would be when part of his consciousness got lost in Mikey's present.

"You offend me dear brother, there are a bunch of factors, and the main ones are associations, familiar people, places, objects, that help with things like this. Speaking of that, time plays an equally important role too... At times the brain can block memory in the case of traumatic memories or emergency injuries, so it's our job to unblock that."

"In our case, perhaps some triggers helped him remember a little Leo."

Leo wasn't verbose, letting his genius brother speak, but noticed the slightly confused look on the smaller mutant's face.

"Is something wrong, otōto?"

"Oh, well yes, you'll be using big bro privileges all the time now, onii-chan?"

Well, the team leader stepped on Raph's foot defiantly. Though, it seemed the center of attention had returned to Mikey, which he wasn't too happy about. He blinked again, rubbing his fingers awkward between them, and looked up hesitant.

"It's... not that important, just silly stuff I'm thinking," and the turtle smiled slightly again, tilting his head, and with a muffled laugh continued, "just... means that part of me, well... that exists now... will sort of disappear? I wanna remember you guys, it's just, uh, it's kinda scary the whole thing, y'know?"

He was uncomfortable sharing this experience of his, that had been collecting since a more aware day, that meant he was replacing someone who was supposed to be here in his place. And he flinched slightly when a soft hand touched his shoulder.

"Oh, Mikey... that part of you will always be inside your mind, it's just that you'll remember what you're missing, become complete," Donatello could hardly imagine what he would become if he forgot all his knowledge, but that didn't mean he wouldn't support the other.

And it did. Mikey was tempted to say something again when his gaze shifted to the brown eyed scientist's desk and his expression didn't fall. He could feel the eyes on him, expectant, perhaps concerned. However, he only looks at his hands.

"I mean, yeah, I guess... it's just... uh, I guess I've been a pretty annoying sibling, as I can tell, so... why do you guys want me back?"

At this quiet statement, Leo stared at the turtle in surprise, Donnie opened his mouth as if trying to get a word out. But no one would do anything unless Raph acted first. He crouched beside the bed, trying to peer into his favorite freckled face that wasn't covered by the mask.

"...Lil brother, I... I don't understand why you think we don't want you. It's not true... isn't it obvious? You're our baby brother, of course we will always want you."

And actually, at that question, Mikey nodded, hastily averting his baby blue eyes from the caring emerald ones.

"I dunno why I said all that... I guess I'm probably just worried and talking too much, sorry."

And with those words, the turtle quieted down, looking more clumsy and fidgety now.

Strong hands, a little rough because of the bandages, touched the younger one. Raphael looked both surprised and deeply saddened, but there was an inner core to him.

"It's okay, otōto, you're scared...we're all scared, but things will get back to normal soon."

He thought it was very sweet that his other big brother called him that.

"Really?"

"Yep. I promise."

Hearing those words, Mikey was able to exhale a little, feeling the weight on his shoulders become a bit lighter as his gaze sparkled at the reaching out pinky finger. A pinky swear was so childish, but it was what Michelangelo really needed, and maybe his brother knew it. Whatever, they had the ninja's greatest weapon.

Hope.

"If I lie, I will drink 1000 needles, and cut my pinky off!" The turtle shakes their hands and the words solidify that promise.

To these actions, Raphael only rolled his eyes, smiling in a friendly manner:
"Why I'm not surprised you remember such a thing, but nothing else."

This statement is accompanied by quiet laughter from the entire company. Mikey's aquamarine eyes sparkle with reticence until the next step comes.

"Can I really go back to my room?"

The mutant eagerly shuffled his feet, following the leader, paying no mind to the slight frown from the smart brother.

"Yeah, why not? It's still your room, isn't it?"

"Maybe because he should still be under my watchful eye, Leader-san?"

"He needs more things related to himself."

Leonardo stopped by the door, looking at the taller turtle as if trying to convey something with just a glance. He probably succeeded, as Donnie had slightly changed their body language, appearing defensive about what steps they should take next.

"Maybe mom's status in the team will soon pass to Donnie. Hey, Leo, you're losing your grip," Raph intervened between them, grinning, and then pushing the older one away from the door. "And now, both of you, shut up and let him in already."

There were no extra words as they allowed Michelangelo to touch the handle and open the creaking door. The turtle glanced back for a fraction of a second and, seeing supportive brothers, still took a step forward. Someone from the team reached out to flick the switch that would finally light up the place.

Shielding his blue eyes for a split second, Mikey quickly adjusted. The first thing that caught his eye was the bed resembling a pirate ship, confirming the guess about that real black flag with a skull on the wall. A spacious, slightly pleasant room in gray yellow tones of concrete walls adorned with various horror movie posters. He took another step forward, exploring, finding numerous empty pizza boxes.

"We didn't clean up here, so everything remains the same as before the incident," Donnie quietly suggested, probably reading the confusion on Mikey's face.

"Seems like I love chaos," he said, shrugging, looking at the shelves with action figures. Mikey examined his room, noticing that even if things were scattered or lying strangely, it was dirty a bit but... still, almost nice to be here.

"...Or you're just too lazy to clean up," Raph added, for which he received an elbow shove from the eldest this time.

"Maybe, although some things are where I'd look for them, probably," he shrugged, not offended by the words; it seemed true.

However, he frowned when he saw a life size cardboard figure of some guy emanating an unpleasant feeling. So he approached and simply turned the guy face to the wall.

"Everything okay, Mikey?"

"Yeah... it's just... I don't know, something started to annoy me about him. Is it okay if he stands like this until I remember why?"

No one objected, even though they were a bit puzzled. After all, it was the room of the guy with the orange mask.

Well, not entirely his room yet. Michelangelo folded his hands behind his back, smiling. He had long felt the lack of weight on his face. He felt awkward asking them for the mask, as it might be a symbolic thing.

A few minutes passed, and Donatello returned to the lab, probably for some research, and the other two just gave the younger turtle space, deciding to do other things. So, for a while, the teenager just looked around.

He managed to find a lot of interesting and... gross things, like some dirty underwear. Why would they be here? Do mutants like them even wear clothes? Doubtful. Among more intriguing items was a notebook with some stories and comics. It was a novella, still in its draft form. Surprisingly, he found this interesting, as it was a story about superheroes helping people, especially children... though these superheroes were just ordinary kids without superpowers.

They just wore their own special costumes.

What he liked most was the story of how a teenager saved Christmas for the orphanage, and the love and kindness with which some of the characters treated others. He still had problems with letters, so he could not read anything for a long time and was still confused about some things. So, to his regret and irritation, Mikey has to take a break, looking for something else interesting in the notebook.

He wondered if the real Mikey shared these things with his family. Even though the novella was hidden in a banal place under the mattress, he didn't expect to find something else there.

Aquamarine eyes sparkled with curiosity as he saw some poems, prose, semi sketches, but unique enough style. Sometimes, there were notes, trivia, gift ideas, or even prank plans in his notebook.

It seemed the person, or rather, the turtle who lived here, was always full of amazing ideas. It couldn't help but upset the guy now.

His temples began to ache again, a sharp pain that made him clutch his head, folding in half.

"Ouch..."

He had to wait a bit until his head stopped feeling as swollen as a ball before continuing to examine things, thinking that his family could wait while he slowly brought back his memories.

More than an hour passed, or so, as Michelangelo examined a shuriken with an engraved lotus symbol. Something about it felt familiar, comforting. Yet, he couldn't say what exactly. A knock on the door distracted him.

"Hey, otōto, can I come in?"

Leonardo's slightly quiet but soothing voice sounded from the other side of the door. The room's owner gave permission.

"You've been here for a while, everything okay?"

"Yeah? I guess. Just... exploring this place," he tossed the shuriken at a target hanging on the opposite wall. To his surprise, he hit the apple. "Wow... We really are ninjas..."

"Of course, muscle memory doesn't evaporate quickly. Our bodies honed many ninja skills over the years," Leo chuckled slightly, standing near the bed, shaking his head a little. "But don't throw anything sharp yet, you're still recovering."

"Sorry, Leo..."

These words came out automatically. Instead of saying, 'Okay, Leo,' he hastily apologized, as if he had done something wrong intentionally. And this confusion was perhaps noticed by the other, as an awkward silence settled between them.

Until the elder cleared his throat.

"It's okay... you didn't do anything wrong?"

"I know, just... I feel guilty?"

He quietly explained, sighing and hugging his knees. "Sometimes, being around you guys, I feel like I'm always doing something wrong? Even though I haven't done anything that should be my fault... It's so weird."

"Sometimes I even say something without realizing I said it."

And he raised his gaze, assessing the mutant's reaction, noticing his brother's pupils slightly shrinking. He did not expect such a revelation.

Leo's chest rose and fell very tensely; the other brother could hear how heavily his brother sighed. Then, he sat on a protruding thick pipe from the floor, seemingly trying to find the right words.

"It seems... I don't often tell you what I sometimes think."

"Yeah... I'm starting to see that."

It sounded uncertain as Mikey tilted his head slightly, and Leonardo continued:

"You're always the loudest among us, talking about anything and everything, doing things without much doubt, even if it seems absurd or illogical... You listen to your intuition more than anyone else."

Leo didn't want to say that now he could only see fragments of the past, how much more sincere their brother used to be and how he became a bit more closed now. He knew about many fears, experiences, and other things that threatened them outside, but it was hard for him to remember some things that directly concerned them in a bad context.

He knew that sometimes they made hurtful jokes or said not the best comments, like any other family, so he bites his tongue.

"Maybe I'm saying all this because I'm not entirely him, hence the guilt... I don't know, everything is so confusing."

And Mikey offers comfort, looking at his hands, sighing softly, then squeezing out a fleeting smile. The guy sees that the elder wants to say something more, so he rushes to interrupt the turtle before he starts:

"Yes, I get it. I'm still the same person you know and love, even if my memories are temporarily absent."

"..." the mutant awkwardly just commented after a few seconds, really looking at his brother in a new light. "...I can't be that obvious."

"Yes and no?"

"Now you're talking like sensei, it's spooky."

And seeing how his elder brother genuinely returns a similar awkward smile, they both chuckled lightly, sinking into a casual atmosphere. He enjoyed studying the other to understand their right interactions. Yet, that ocean blue light of the elder brother, darkens again, not letting him forget some issues.

"Is this your notebook?" Leo seemed to have noticed what was on the bed when he spotted the item.

"Oh, yeah, probably? It's a pretty cool thing, hard to imagine I've got so many ideas in my head."

"You've always had the most unconventional and unique thinking, Mikey, so it's not surprising if there's something like that in there," in these words, the older brother rubs his neck, looking away, "Even though you haven't shown me what's in there for a long time. You've always been a very creative spirit."

"So, you really don't know what there is in there, huh?"

And Michelangelo got a negative answer. Perhaps he was hiding it from others, or they drifted apart a bit. Maybe it was something personal. And now he could feel regret in the air. However, his tone becomes a bit more cheerful when the mutant waves the notebook in the air.

"Well... let's see, I'm Mikey and I don't mind showing you this later, when I finish it myself."

He was afraid of being disappointed, of not being what was expected of him. It was his stuff, but it was really Mikey's stuff.

"Sounds fair," and yet, it sounded a bit sad, though the response was gentle. Leo scrutinizes his younger brother from head to toe, and he can feel that he is talking to someone who reads him like a book, even though he was the one who wasn't easy to read, despite the light playfulness and tenderness that belonged specifically to Mikey.

How did Leo miss this?

Before him was a stranger, who still seemed to know them, and they knew him, but it felt like they were all missing something. The other shared that he was afraid he didn't know who he was and might consider himself... unnecessary? Despite the teenager not wanting to deny it, perhaps some things done by him and family members could harm the other. Or maybe it was just the memory loss that distorted things. So he hopes that the damage wasn't critical, if it was there, and he’d probably need to talk to Mikey more seriously in time.

"You're thinking too much again, onii-chan," oh, Leo twitched, blinked, and then muttered apologies. He wasn't used to the younger one pulling him out of his thoughts so often.

Another pause follows, a light silence that the most responsible one breaks when he gathers himself. It wasn't the turtle in front of him who should give him comfort and safety. It was he who was here for him to help at every stage, all of them... And now, all he saw was how skillfully Michelangelo picked words as if knowing how best to approach them.

It should have been the other way around. So he wants to make up for what he missed.

"...You're not alone here either," leaning forward, rising, Leonardo touches the shoulder, trying to find the right words, even if they sound a bit corny, like from some anime or show that the young man loved so much. "Even if you're scared about what's happening now, it's normal to be scared. You don't need to rush, We'll figure this out together, Mike."

And when every word was spoken so sincerely, with such certainty, as Leo could notice how the heavenly pure eyes seemed to be glassy, and the brother's chin trembled slightly. Mikey slowly nods a few times, speaking with a weakened voice and a fragile smile:

"Thanks, Leo..."

And it melted the leader's heart; his chest slightly ached. He thinks that perhaps his younger brother tried to be brave for them and himself, and both of them needed to hear it. So he just kisses the other on the forehead, already getting lost in the moment when he last did such a childishly innocent act. They all grew up in two years, though technically they are still teenagers, just kids. However, mint green hands embrace him, and he pushes his own demons away.

As long as his brother felt better, he could put aside his questions.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The older brother couldn't stop grinning, his arms crossed, as he watched the interactions of Ice Cream Kitty with her owner after such a long separation. Both seemed delighted by the reunion; Mikey himself was beaming when the little mutant meowed and licked his cheek. At the leader's request, the turtle couldn't taste the living ice cream, but overall, it wasn't necessary.

"Leo, she's adorable! Who's a good girl? You are, my lil lady," he coos, giving his pet the attention she missed, apologizing softly for the absence, and promising that they would see each other more often.

Since the main tour of the lair was over, their family chef's refuge finally filled with genuine laughter. Leo truly couldn't take his eyes off the scene, unwilling to interrupt. He was genuinely happy with the picture before him.

They all needed the light their dear brother brought.

Then he sighed softly, sensing the scent of incense in the air coming from the dojo, which could only be lit by one member of their family. He understood that it's time to talk. So when he noticed Raph in the background, with a small purple spiky turtle sitting on his shoulder, he waited. After a while, the ninja finally entered the kitchen, trying to do it as casually as possible. Leo speaks quietly:

"Сan you watch over him? I think he should rest, and besides, Ice Cream Kitty has melted too much already."

"Yeah. Sure. No problem."

There was no argument, so Leo's expression softened.

"Thanks, Raph."

"Sure thing, big bro."

...

The second eldest noticed how deep eyes lingered on him.

"What?"

And awkwardly, Leo thought about how they all distanced themselves, and perhaps it was time to start getting closer again. Maybe not as close as in childhood, but at least as it was before all the traumatic events.

"Maybe I should start calling you otōto too?"

"That's the last thing you'll do if you try. Don't tempt luck twice in a day, fearless," the mutant snorted, although later, he added in a mumble. "Good things little by little."

And the other couldn't disagree. Smiling in a good mood, Leonardo left, not daring to argue but making a mental note to try tempting luck on another day, leaving the two brothers in the sunny kitchen.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀He could feel that familiar lightness again as the wind gently tugged his short bow, enjoying the blooming wildflowers with the grass rustling beneath him. It was that brief occasional moment when they could taste freedom away from the city hustle. Despite everything, the farmhouse truly felt like their second home. Now, he sat on the grass, writing something down in his notebook with a pencil, humming along with the birds. The red turtle lay on his back next to him under the tree, covering his eyes in contemplation. A bit closer to the farm, a redhead girl, a guy with a missing tooth and one purple tall turtle were engrossed in conversation while working on the truck's engine.

Not far from them, the elders of the family were meditating, sitting in a lotus position, their auras visible to him. The Chi energy circulated around them like an outer layer, growing stronger with concentration as they delved into the mystical astral world, sorting through their thoughts and clearing their minds. The teenager glanced with aquamarine eyes first on his brother and sister and then on his father, chuckling.

"What's so funny?" a slightly rough voice sounded nearby as the orange one smiled at him.

"Probably everything I'd want," he replied.

"Ughm... what are you talkin' about?"

"All this! Isn't it cool that we can spend our time like this, dude?" The bright and resonant voice continued, "No battles, fresh air, a river, cute lady chicks, sunshine! They should build a pizzeria closer, and it would be perfecto! And no one sees us!"

He could hear a familiar grumble, "Is food all that bothers you? Besides, we ended up here ‘cause of our poor turtle circumstances."

The older brother, arms crossed, gazed with emerald eyes into the foliage, closing his eyes in relaxation.

"But there were good ones, bro!" The freckled turtle persisted, wiggling his legs as he quieted down. Then, looking at the sky with a half smile, he covered his eyes with the notebook to shield them from the bright sunlight. "Everyone's smiling, enjoying the day... and it's not even a holiday! We could come here for Christmas or other stuff... take so many cool and epic photos! Fill a photo album with us, our family, maybe invite friends! Like a super-duper party!"

"Let's call it...farming fun!"

The mutant shook his head, while the bright eyes, as vast as the sky, were filled with mischief, pointing at the other with a pencil, refusing to give up.

"You're a weirdo."

"We're all weirdos, dude!"

The two brothers exchanged smiles as Mikey turned around, as if someone had called him.

And that's when everything painted itself in the colors of pitch darkness, as if someone took the entire color palette, blending all the colors together until it turned into a dirty brown and then into suffocating black. His gaze dimmed, his head felt underwater. His lips parted, half mute, while a rock lodged in his throat, preventing air from entering or leaving. Even taking a breath seemed challenging; his hands on his neck as everything blurred, and his lungs burned.

A sense of emptiness and equally intense panic crept in as his fingers clenched harder on his ligaments while the water filled his mouth, a faint metallic taste. The feeling of drowning, a faint iron flavor in his mouth. It was painful, air, he needed air, everything inside burning like a fire.

His heart tightened and sank as he tried to utter words, inhale a breath, and find a glimmer of light.

He was alone. No one was around.

Please.

Anyone.

Hear him.

He's here.

⠀⠀⠀⠀His eyes shot open with a gasp and a light hiccup as Mikey reached for his chest, trying to understand what was happening. His breath was shaky with still wide eyes. The happy family picture was still in front of him, but now veiled in darkness, but, to his relief, his chest no longer burned as bad as before. He remembered blurred words, dialogues, like the blue sky and green grass reflecting in his eyes. The teenager sniffed loudly, wiping now visibly wet tracks from his cheeks, attempting to calm the tremble in his body.

Swallowing along with a salty taste, Mikey thought he missed the familiar lab, being in an unfamiliar bed. He clutched a small teddy in his fingers, sitting, pressing into the soft little body as a comfort, rocking back and forth, trying to soothe an uncomfortable itch in his head.

Inhaling air was still difficult, as if there was something so heavy inside, squeezing his lungs, but it was nothing compared to his nightmare. However, Mikey forced himself to continue catching air through his mouth like a fish, not wanting to inconvenience anyone in the night. It would be a pity if he started hyperventilating just because of a nightmare. So, he gave himself more time than necessary to chill, eventually feeling half exhausted after the dream.

Later, he reached for the nightstand to switch on the bunny shaped night light, not realizing how he knew it was there.

He didn't want to stay in the dark and cramped room right now. And a glass of water and a little walk to the kitchen wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

He also felt a photo frame and pulled it towards him, examining what was there, awkwardly frozen with watery eyes.

One of the family photos, seemingly to be a few years old: Donnie was at the back (being the tallest) to avoid blocking others, smiling a bit shyly, but happily nonetheless. On the left of him was an equally tall, paternal figure, with a proudly raised head, holding one hand on Raph's shoulder, who crossed his arms, looking a bit softer than usual. Under Splinter's other hand was Leo, who looked quietly relaxed.

And in the center... the guy with the orange mask.

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the glass over the stranger's face, then touched his own freckled one. The smile there was wide and bright, like light, and the blue eyes were as clear as the sky on a good day, not matching his own.

With a soft sigh, Mikey wiped the rest of his tears with a slight frown, then stood up and trudged to the kitchen, holding the blanket on his shoulders like a cape.

He tried to open the door as quietly as possible, cursing himself when it emitted a soft squeak, then peeked his head out, looking around. Then, slowly on tiptoes, he crept towards the kitchen.

To his surprise, he found the kitchen not empty.

"Mikey?"

Rougher but slightly sleepier, yet already familiar, voice. For a second, there were emerald hues with a touch of red reflecting in his eyes as he froze. Raphael was hunched over the table, arms folded forward with a frown.

Until a hand touched his shoulder.

Oops, it seemed like he was about to remember something, but the touch snapped him out, and he just blinked, experiencing more of a headache without reason, aw. Mikey tensed subconsciously, and so did Raph. He had always made him feel on high alert, trying to avoid any real contact.

He could see how the gaze never left him, carefully studying, was there something wrong with his face?

"...Sit. I'll make hot chocolate."

"Uh, Raph, you don't—"

Mikey tried to object, but he was met with a stern, insistent and unwavering look that made him shut up, as strong hands almost pushed him towards the chair. It felt like arguing would be pointless.

"Just sit."

"Okay..."

So, the teenager sat without unnecessary words. While Raph dealt with the mugs, he observed from behind, suddenly realizing how really short Raphael was, but what broad shoulders he had. How the silence next to him wasn't oppressive but soothing, the way words didn't seem to be needed here. Something similar to when he appeared in the lab to shatter his life with his presence. He could feel a sense of calm just in the presence of this turtle, feeling more safe and comforted, which almost pacified his nightly anxiety. It was a mix of emotions.

And Raph didn't ask him.

But for some reason, Mikey thinks Raph knows why he's here, and he was curious about why the other was here (his red eyes, right?). He pensively tapped his palms on the table, looking off to the side. He remembered how, not long ago, Donnie scolded Raph for wandering near the lab or sleeping in the living room (which was absolutely terrible, from Mikey's personal experience).

He needed to think logically... what would the Doc call it? Something related to connection, but clearly not a telephone one, although Mikey is a bit sad they've forbidden him to use it for now. Ah, he got distracted. He tries to think while he waits for it to click.
Сausal relationship, a chain, isn't it? Something like that, but chains were definitely cool.

If Raph wasn't sleeping, there was a reason. If the reason involved a place, why always near the lab? Probably because of him... maybe, just maybe, the other had a rough night too, sharing the same problem.

Now Mikey thinks everyone here needs to learn how to sleep.

He flinched when the mug suddenly appeared in front of his nose.

"Thanks."

"Sure, be careful, it's hot."

He raised his gaze to follow how Raph sat next to his own drink. His hands wrapped around the mug, cold fingers quickly warming up as he looked at the cream on top with grated chocolate and tiny marshmallows. This... he definitely liked it. It was a violation of his diet, but he was excited about it.

Red was clearly his favorite turtle right now, even if he was a bit afraid of him. He noticed how prickly the ninja could be, not wanting to get under his hot hand or irritate him really, though he still licked the cream.

Sweet.

Goodness, he missed that taste, which creates fireworks in his mouth as he blows on the hot chocolate and tries to take a sip anyway, slightly burning his tongue but not feeling any regret at all. He squeaked after a moment, sticking his tongue out, now with a drop of regret, waving his hands.

"I told you to wait, geez, you're always like this..."

Mikey freezes again, staring at Raph with a stupidly stuck out tongue and a dumb expression on his face. He sees a faint wrinkle on the turtle's forehead, as if from irritation or untrust, but there's a soft, not typical smile, watching him so openly. The cool guy rests his cheek on his hand as he takes a relaxed sip. Their clover and sky gazes meet. Crap.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mikey hides his tongue, looking away.

Even so, he could feel the gaze on him for a while when he tried to continue drinking the hot drink, hearing a soft growl from the side. Yeah. There was something soothing about it, and he glances at Raph again when he's not staring so hard, while they continue in silence.

"I had a bad dream," the confession suddenly spilled from his lips.

"Yeah... wanna talk about it?"

Surprisingly, Mikey pondered for a moment but just shook his head, not feeling a strong need. He was already feeling better. Red seemed to take it in stride, accepting the response.

"And what about you...?" The younger one was curious.

Raph snorted, setting the mug on the table.

"It doesn't matter... Nightmares suck, eh."

It was a small hint, any doubts dissipating as he looked at the now visible chocolate reflection.

"Oh. Well, the hot chocolate's still good."

"You could just drink hot chocolate without that," Raph rubbed his nose bridge, "no need for a bad reason here."

"...and good company," Michelangelo finished simply with a chuckle.

For a moment, Red fell silent, skeptically eyeing him, but with a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth twitched up, betraying his emotions.

"Sure, weirdo."

Mikey replied with a polite smile, taking a sip, irritating his throat a bit more as the headache bloomed a little more in his temples. He felt like he'd heard that addressed to him countless times.

Now it was cozy, prompting him to ask.

"What's your Mikey like...?" the stranger looked with caution, noticing how the other's shoulders tensed, "I mean, do I even look like him?"

Raphael placed the mug again, giving his brother a more skeptical look, crossing his arms with a puff.

"What are you even talking about? You are him," he stated confidently, "how can you not look alike?"

Mikey smiled wryly. "I didn't mean appearance."

"Who said anything about appearance? Do I look like an idiot? Of course you lack a few screws, but that doesn't change anything, you're my little brother and you act like one. You come to the kitchen from nightmares, drink hot chocolate without listening, stick your tongue out, you’re still fiddling around with your hands and babble when you talk," Raph counted a bunch of things while Mikey's brow arched upwards.

The turtle leaned his hands on the table, listening.

"You still talk without thinking sometimes. And always watch us, more than yourself, curious, supportive... you're annoying, you clearly copied that from Leo, that stupid compassion."

"You're blunt, woah," Mikey actually seemed pleased, curiously glancing, "and hey! Rude."

Raph snorted, looking away with a proud smirk.

"Like you're not, ha! There's something I taught you, though you still lack my awesome technique. Everyone fusses over you like you're fragile....... and now, stop glaring at me like that... what?"

"Did you really call it that?"

"Shut it… yes, I did. Still, what is on your mind?"

Mikey wasn't sure what the ninja meant, not seeing his own expression, but he kept nodding nonetheless. His gaze was full of admiration, as well as questioning, speaking as directly.

"I'd like to know more, and also..." he clasped his hands together, lifting his chin to look at the ceiling.

Sky and air. Like from his dreams and those moments when he recalled something, he liked the wind, the feeling of freedom, not confined by underground jungles. Even Raph fell silent at those requests, sinking back into a frown, as if retracting taking back his words. He couldn't take Mikey there... not after everything.

"Why?"

And Mikey wasn't sure how to explain it to him, remembering soft fragments that sometimes appeared for seconds, as soon as he imagined the possibility of seeing stars, the sun, how soft airy clouds moved. His hands folded together as his gaze looked through objects, empty, still seeing those pictures in front of his eyes.

And his dream, where they were somewhere on a farm, was so warm, where the green grass felt nice underfoot.

"It's too small and, uh... the wind. I want to feel the wind, I miss it, I guess?"

". . ."

Ah, the younger one awkwardly drops his head, knowing it was a silly reason. Nothing concrete, he couldn’t have said it'll help him remember something, right? The other wouldn't agree to that. He bit his lip, regretting saying such a selfish thing. He should be more understanding, not causing more trouble for others.

His memory was barely filled with anything, and here he was suggesting something that could be even dangerous, considering they had those who clearly didn't like them. Meanwhile, Raph frowned even more, tapping his bicep with his finger, looking very thoughtful but extremely annoyed at the same time.

Yet, he let out a very, very heavy sigh.

"Just for 10 minutes, and I'm carrying you, no arguments."

Mikey's breath caught as he sharply looked into the emerald eyes, his own widening with noticeable sparkle. "Wait, really?!"

"Yeah. Shush. You don't want to wake the others."

His hands immediately cover his mouth, panicking, while Raph chuckles, getting up and patting his head.

"Stay here, I'll go get my stuff, you little rebel."

Staying quiet, the little turtle nods, then proceeds to finish the chocolate drink.

His brother didn't make him wait long. Now the belt is in place, along with the sais? Seems that's what the weapon is called. Mikey scratched his slightly aching head, but hoped the fresh air would cool his headache. Meanwhile, Raphael gave him brief instructions on what to do and what not, which Mikey didn't argue against, at least partly because he clearly feared arguing with him. It already felt like a bad idea.

He could see how tense Red looked. It seemed like it wasn't an easy decision, and yet, he didn't show an ounce of fear about what he was about to do at his accidental request.

Mikey found himself zoning out a bit, not paying too much attention, feeling a little guilty, but still feeling like he caught the main message.

Then the mutant crouched so the other could climb onto his back, and Mikey hesitantly wrapped his arms around the turtle's neck (it took him a few seconds to convince himself to do it). Up close, he noticed how many scratches and chips there were on the scutes and edges of the shell itself. It seemed the second oldest often got into unnecessary fights. Mikey leaned his torso against the turtle's back, and Raph lifted his legs, rising. It was amazing physical fitness, how the other could lift almost his own weight and start moving as if it were nothing.

Mikey was amazed again.

Apparently, their DNA mutated, giving them extra super strength, or whatever you want to call it, especially when Raph switched to a light run.

Sometimes blinking sleepily, he stopped paying attention to the walk, sometimes swaying his torso from side to side, feeling uncomfortable pain in his left arm or awkwardness from being carried.

Yet he was grateful to Raph. This would definitely brighten the rest of his night after the nightmare.

Mikey leaned his chin on the back of Raph's head with a soft, slightly weary sigh, accepting that he wouldn't be able to minimize contact, but it wasn't so bad now, though he felt a little sorry that the other had to do the work for him. He felt even more guilty when his eyes slightly closed one of those sewer turns, although he tried to remember everything he saw.

Even such a little walk demanded a lot from him. He was surprised that his body was still so weak, although maybe it was because he slept poorly and now the feeling of comfort was abundant, though he had to admit that the smell was unpleasant around.

"Hold on to me tighter, lil bro."

"M’kay..."

He agrees quietly, clasping his arms tighter around his brother, feeling warmth, thinking that he wouldn't mind if these fleeting touches became more often in the future, because he seems to like hugs.

After a while, he's gently tapped on the hand, his name being uttered.

"...We're here, don't say you fell asleep, sleeping beauty?"

Mikey grumbles slightly as he reaches up to rub his eyes. Feeling a bit more relaxed, he lifts his head, meeting the gaze of the dark sky with stars and the flickering lights of the night time city, shimmering in different colors. This incredible sight brought a triumphant feeling to the turtle's head, but also a sense of calm. He loved this place, bright yet simultaneously soothing, reflected in his eyes like bright stars.

He was almost speechless, gasping pleasantly.

The city was full of sounds; New York never seemed to sleep, always in motion even at night. They had the best view from one of the rooftops of Lower Manhattan or whatever Mikey could guess, excitedly twitching his feet, squeaking.

"It's so beautiful!"

He leans his hands on his brother's shoulders, stretching his head in different directions, still somewhat limited in his movements, but it seemed Raph quickly caught on to that, moving closer to other sides of the roof, giving Mikey more room to explore. Though ordinary streets shouldn't have thrilled him so much, for some reason, it did. He blames his mind, as well as the fact that they spent almost their entire lives in the sewers.

"Don't let go, we're just gonna take a little look around."

Mikey nods, hugging the other as tightly as possible as they hop from one rooftop to another. It's at this moment that a soft, slightly polluted breeze of New York air brushes his face, slightly cool but refreshing. Neon lights flicker before his eyes, smearing as everything blurs.

"Being a ninja turtle is SOOO COOL! Dude, I'm glad we can just jump around roofs like this!" Tightening his grip on his hands, the guy does a flip, genuinely enjoying leaping over the railing.

Mikey turns, waving his arms to chat with Raph, who's a bit behind. He's not as fast as his younger brother, but he doesn't mind, knowing that the other intentionally slows down so they can have a walk.

"Sure, but we ain't exactly heroes."

"Oh, are you still puffing about what Leo said? Hmm, Master Splinter called us heroes too, so I guess it's our destiny or something."

"We're more like criminal hunters, heroism sounds lame, nobody even knows about us," Raph rolls his eyes.

"Well, there are some heroes who do things in secret! Batman lives in a dark, creepy cave and does just fine!"

"Sounds like your room."

"Exactly- HEY!"

They move on, stopping near the edge of the roof to look around. It's a typical, quiet patrol, while some people are still hanging out at night.

"That's the point. Even with all our success, we're more like monsters that live under their beds to people. Doesn't matter if we save the world or not, no one's gonna know, but everyone's gonna think we're monsters anyway."

Raph, as always, is skeptical about things, but he softens slightly at Mikey's slightly contemplative expression, as a bright smile blooms there, somewhat naive but with a kind look that the elder brother always recognizes.

"Raphie, my dude, this is where the magic happens! We can be in the shadows, but we're like the secret sauce, y'know? Unsung heroes! Not everyone needs to know, but we make changes where it counts!" And he softens a bit, as the light reflects off his aquamarine eyes, looking more mature than Raph can remember, "It's not bad saving the day, even if nobody's ever gonna throw us a parade."

And then he gave Raph with a slightly sad but understanding smile, "Being heroic and fighting for justice is awesome, like dad says, but, I'm just glad we have good days where we can just be teens and have fun with friends without having to decide the fate of the world so much."

Mikey used to wish he was more open to the world, acknowledged, but now he feels more at peace. He's not against something new, welcoming it with his friendliness, he just would like to see everyone he loves on the verge of death less.

"Tch... you're making me sound silly, let's just go already."

Raph jumps down, resuming their movement.

"Huh? But I didn't say anything! Hey, wait, Raphie boy! That's not fair, you started without a go signal! That's cheating!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀…His breath hitched for the second time tonight when he felt a slight tingling in his cheeks, and the headache made him feel like crap again, nauseous, ready to return the chocolate he recently drank to his brother. He had to hold it together as he was shaken by the shoulders.

God, he already has a headache, why is someone shaking him?

Oh wait. When did he manage to get off Raph's back and sit down, leaning against the edge of a concrete wall? And uh, he's trying to focus his gaze on the other's face, which looks extremely... umm, concerned? And his cheeks are slightly pulsating now. Hmm, it feels like he got slapped to snap out of it. He almost feels awkward... and in pain, ouch.

Why couldn't Red be gentler?

"Mikey? Mike, h-hey, are you with me..?"

"I- what happened...?"

The last thing he remembered was how they were about to jump and run further, until snippets of memory decided it was time for him to see something else. Gosh, he just wants his head to stop trying to split open again.

"What happened? You passed out! You were shaking like hell and wheezing like you couldn't breathe!"

"Uh..." Raph looked pale, his pupils constricted, still clutching onto Mikey's shoulders, seemingly like the way Mikey's memory flashback hit him this time was worse than he thought, but he could feel it for sure. God bless they were out in the fresh air now and the liquid was only halfway up his throat, "sorry... I didn't mean, uh, are... we okay now?"

Maybe he should warn the others that his reaction might not be very good as he recalls something, though the way it went with Leo was softer, even if he felt like he was about to throw up too.

"That's it. We're going back. End of story."

Mikey softly grumbled but didn't object as he was gently lifted up like a princess. It's a different position than on the back. Still, the teenager doesn't think he can really hold onto Raph's neck in this state, plus, the outside noise seems louder than before, and it tires his mind even more.

His head guiltily leans against the plastron, listening to the panicky inhales and exhales while he's held securely in the mutant's arms. He didn't want to scare the other so much. It seemed like he was trying to hold back, although his face was full of concern.

His gaze weakly narrowed, his own expression more wavering as he tried to sift through the drops of memories to try and comfort the other, "Sorry for freaking you out, Raphie, I'm better now..." sliding his hand, he lightly squeezed Raph's fingers holding him.

He needed to give something. He owed him at least that much.

Perhaps that nickname caught Raph off guard as they almost stopped. He looked surprised again, almost distrustfully to glance down at Mikey with his searching, protective green eyes. He almost felt uneasy again from being stared at like that, as if he said something wrong, yet it was more right.

And yet, Raph doesn't ask anything as they move on.

"Whatever, we'll be home soon," he says.

He almost pretends not to notice how glassy Raph's eyes become, how his gaze clearly shines as he looks into the distance, and how his body presses closer to him, as if they were really afraid to lose him, how the mutant's hands slightly tremble. It's almost like something personal, so with a soft sigh and closed eyes, he nods.

"Mhm, 'kay..."

So, this is what it feels like... to be needed.

Inside, there's a slight tingle, but he couldn't help but feel a surge of joy that he remembered something else, even if it's just a drop in the ocean.

Mikey starts to slip back into sleep, trying to remember more details from his life. Raph returns home with a nearly sleeping Mikey, gently laying him on the bed, though the mutant's weak fingers still cling to him like a lifeboat. He still had that attack in his mind's eye, not knowing what to do. One second everything was fine, and then his younger brother was just... lose consciousness and choke. Then he heard something he hadn't heard in a long time. Disregarding the pride from half an hour ago, he gets onto the remaining half of Mikey's bed, pulling him close and covering him with a blanket, refusing to let go.

He could already feel Mikey's breathing becoming shallow after a minute, and his body completely relaxed. Yet he quietly sniffles, doubting he could fall asleep, even when he held the younger Hamato in his arms. Sometimes his fingers touched his neck, checking the pulse, and at other times, he counted each spot on his face again.

Mikey will never know what was behind those eyes while he slept.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀A few days after the sneaky nighttime excursion, it was just between the two turtles. Mikey had managed to convince Raph that he was okay and probably just exhausted from the changes, suggesting he should take it slow. However, that didn't stop the orange guy from talking about how beautiful the stars outside were. He wanted to see them again when they went to the farm.

And he was able to quiet the worry in Raph's emerald eyes.

Though it didn't in his nightmares, he hoped the little dark circles weren't too noticeable yet.

Right now, Mikey had absolutely nothing to do. He sat in his room, flipping through comics, sometimes drawing or writing something down in a notebook he found. He hoped it wouldn't be a problem for his future self, but then again, it was his future self's problem. Time dragged on because he was still forbidden from being active, so he often chatted with the other turtles around.

It was nice that they devoted so much of their precious time to him, sometimes inviting him to sit beside them, which made Mikey almost feel out of place. Although, he'd probably do the same if any of his family members lost their memory? He flipped another page while his pencil moved across the paper, switching between two languages.

Unfortunately, he also had to highlight unfamiliar or difficult words that gave him trouble. Donnie warned him that regaining communication skills, even speech, would take time. Even now, Mikey could speak fast, but slurred, which wasn't so bad, but it clearly irritated him. Plus, letters often became harder to put together into words, or he forgot the meaning of a word he clearly knew. So, he rewrote it in kanji.

After a while, the turtle tiredly rubbed his eyes, irritably closing the comic, realizing he wouldn't be able to focus on letters for the time being.

Well, maybe it was a good break for him.

Mikey gets up to stretch his limbs, thinking his headache had gone down a bit, but he didn't remember much else, which was a bit sad. Apparently he was going to have to stimulate his brain whether he liked the pain or not.

He stepped out of his hiding spot to see what the others were up to. He knew that, slowly but surely, the guys were returning to their training routine, from which he was forbidden to participate much to his subjective disappointment. Well, at least he liked how things between the tall rat and the blue one had become quieter, the river was calm, not strong, and the current no longer collided with rocks in splashes.

Mikey suddenly found himself in an empty living room, surprised that he ended up here without noticing. The teenager just thought he was too lost in thought, looking around. First, he peered into the purple lab, finding anything there but the smart turtle. The other two weren't visible nearby either. Maybe he should go hang out with Ice Cream Kitty? Anyway, he didn't want the others to catch him snooping if he did. And he continued on until he stumbled upon a door, just down the corridor. He couldn't remember exactly what was there, but his face tingled slightly, and curiosity sparkled in his eyes as he peeked towards the dojo, and then towards this mysterious door. Well, he wasn't warned not to investigate, so he reached for the door handle.

The light behind him penetrated inside but not fully as Mikey felt around for where the light switch was, and bingo, exploring the wall by touch, and then reaching up, noticing the string overhead. A lone bulb lit up at the top with a click, and Mikey suddenly realized it was the storage room: there were shelves on the side with some combat training stuff, scrolls, weapons, and some other things, and along the wall of the room was a low blanketed table, which stood a sewing machine. Mikey ran his hand over the wooden surface of the table.

"Kotatsu."

The word rolled off his tongue as he licked his lips, savoring the word, ignoring the slight tingling at the back of his head. The Doctor had explained to him that Japanese might be easier for memory recall and understanding, as it was his native language, which he understood more than english. So he had a notebook for that, which Master Splinter kindly handed to him not long ago. Raph also noted that he had a slight accent on some English words, which he found amusing, considering Mikey didn't have an accent before. They all were fluent in both languages.

He also looked at his own reflection in the blades on the shelf, seeing the clan's signature lotus symbol. Something about it seemed familiar to him. Mikey saw two blades, cautiously touching them, lifting them up. Light, comfortable, but he felt like they lacked weight in his hands. His fingers were used to balancing something.

Mikey slowly drew the string on the bow, holding it firmly and confidently, covering one eye. He held his breath, imagining the arrow being notched on the tips of his two fingers, and released. His hands didn't shake. He wonders if he can actually shoot?

The chain nearby seemed more comfy, but the ball at the bottom didn't seem right as he twirled it in his hands, finding it almost natural. His gaze flicked to the two katanas, pulling the blades from sheaths, seeing blue eyes on the silvery surface. This weapon... dangerous, yet also had the strength to make tough decisions.

His aquamarine eyes didn't match the blades, and he set them aside, shifting his attention away from both the weapons and the sweet familiar pain in his head.

Mikey inspected the sewing machine, which was a bit old-fashioned but in very good condition. It was actively used. He didn't find any dust on the surface as he tapped his finger thoughtfully on his chin.

He looked around to spot the dresser: consisting of several drawers stacked on top of each other in a light brown color, with dark oak-coloured trim.

He took a step forward to blink.

"Second drawer on the left..." the words intuitively flowed from his mouth as he opened it to find fabric of various shades, but especially bright orange.

Orange was something sacred and special, and the mutant believed he liked this color when he tactilely touched the fabric roll with his hand. Pleasant lightness, softness, such fabric wouldn't irritate him when worn actively, but also sturdy enough not to tear. He took a piece of fabric nearby, noticing there were clearly cut pieces for something.

And hurrying to the mirror, he slowly raised the fabric to his face and froze, holding his breath.

⠀⠀⠀⠀With a sunny smile, the freckled turtle ties on his mask in front of the mirror, glancing back at the sewing machine where the tall rat and his brothers sat, either making masks or taking a break. There was a sweet, citrusy scent lingering in the air.

"Hey, did you guys know that orange is totally perfect for my eyes? They look so bright!"

"'Cause they're complementary colors, the best combination on the color palette," Raph lazily eats an orange, looking relaxed, gesturing slightly with one hand, "that's why red looks good with my eye color."

The smallest turtle blinked in surprise, tilting his head, looking blank. "Compwlie-what? Spanish?" he couldn't quite repeat the difficult word without understanding its meaning, although he acknowledged that red and green did indeed make a good combo.

Donnie chatted with Splinter about something, though he glanced at his brother, wanting to correct him, but they were busy with the purple mask, also discussing the possibility of improving the rickety machine, so. Leo looked serene, just peeling apples and oranges into a bowl, looking zoned out.

Mikey caught Donnie's eye, who shook his head, but the short turtle still smiled at him.

"Complementary colors, those that are opposite each other, like orange and blue, red and green," the artist explained as he popped another slice into his mouth.

"Ohhhh, I see! But I meant something else!" Mikey replied.

The machine stops humming, and the tall mutant bows to his father and hurries to the mirror, standing next to his younger brother, trying on the mask. He looks into the reflection with mild curiosity as Mikey kindly steps aside a bit.

"So what's this, my son?" Master Splinter kindly asks, pleased that the mask fits well on his tallest son too, touching Leonardo's shoulder, causing him to flinch and slow down in trying to peel all the fruits on the table.

The question only makes Michelangelo glow brighter as he turns and points to the bow at the back, grinning.

"Orange makes me happy! So, it's the color of happiness! Just like oranges! Or the sun!"

All family members took notice of Mikey, appearing softened, even Raphael, sharing a gentler smile with everyone.

Donatello clears his throat, "actually, the sun is white. It's just the rays reaching the Earth that give it a slightly yellowish hue, but..." he covers his smile with his hand, chuckling, "but, orange is indeed considered the color of happiness in many sources and cultures, just like joy, positivity, and fun."

Approaching closer, Donnie gently pats the younger's head, probably finding such an innocent comment amusing, "but that doesn't mean you can eat too many oranges, Mikan."

"Ow, dude, but I love oranges."

"Your stomach will ache again if you eat too many, otōto," Leo reminds him.

"Not fair, Lee."

Michelangelo pouts, looking away as if part of his plan had been figured out, but still, he looked quite happy.

"Your aura carries a similar energy and vitality, which definitely suits you, Michelangelo," Splinter touches his beard, smiling with mystery, "the light that will shine even in the darkest times is your spirit."

Mikey nods, looking satisfied at the comment as he glances at Leo, who softly chuckles.

"Although I have blue eyes too, orange definitely suits you better, I can't imagine another color that would so perfectly highlight your bright individuality," seemingly, the leader recalled something, looking pleased, "your positivity has always been with us."

"Aw, someone's making mom-o-nardo almost cry," Raph grins.

"Not true!"

The gentle banter between the two turtles ensued, ending in laughter as Mikey steals an orange from the table, then gets caught by Master Splinter, reminding him to refrain from overeating. Still, Michelangelo believes that orange truly is the color of happiness, as everyone around smiles.

⠀⠀⠀⠀And ah… it was a pleasant memory, but not a waking moment from it, as if he had once again filled his mouth with water, trying to learn to breathe air underwater. His head is spinning as Mikey finds himself surrounded by something soft, clutching a scrap of fabric in trembling hands, gulping air eagerly in small, rapid sips. His head is fuzzy, and his vision is wetly blurred.

His throat is burning. As he struggles between attempting to inhale, he coughs and feels like breaking in half, whimpering from pain. God… it was, it was terrifying. He feels like he's dying. Mikey panics.

He doesn't want to be alone here.

"…deep-… one… five… eight…"

And only through the haze of his own panic does he finally seem to hear someone's voice, distant, like on the surface of the water while he's submerged at the bottom, moving his trembling lips. It takes him some time to pick up more sounds and some mess around.

"…brought-"

"…for water, my son-"

The voices slowly stop merging into one, splitting into different ones, some with a lower tone, some with a different intonation. And the sensations slow down as he feels someone stroking his head, cradling him in soft, even fluffy embraces, which truly help him feel a dose of reality. And someone else is rubbing his palms and fingers, massaging them, distracting him from the lack of air in his lungs. Someone annoyingly continues to repeat some words to him, and someone else breathes loudly and insistently nearby.

This tone was somewhat… soothing.

"…two, three, four, five… deep exhale, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and now exhale again… like this, Mikey, you're doing great, keep going…" a gentle, concerned voice, giving him a cue that he unconsciously began to follow.

"Let your spirit calm, my son… you're safe."

A little nod as he licks his dry lips, swallowing, ignoring the lump in his throat with half-closed eyes, misted from tears. Colors blur before him, and he simply wearily buries his face into someone's soft, slightly ticklish shoulder, trying to breathe, as if it were his main task in life.

Inhale, pause, exhale. Repeat.

And he does as he's told.

After a while, Donatello (he finally recognized him, with shame) finished counting, leaning on the cot with relief with one hand as Mikey peeked from Master Splinter's shoulder, finally breathing on his own.

He felt a new wave of relief, as well as awkwardness, to look around at those surrounding him; all the mutants were here, looking at him, clearly concerned, the palest in his opinion being Raphael, who touched one of his hands. Ah. Only now did Michelangelo notice that Leo and Raph were holding his hands, which he had squeezed tightly and then relaxed. His eyes were red, and soft hiccuping occasionally came from his throat.

Master Splinter hugged him close, like a child, remaining with him on the ground, something he clearly didn't expect, that the big rat would cradle him to help him calm down… What was it that he had? What even happened?

"Do you feel better, Michelangelo?"

"I… I'm not sure?" His voice was hoarse, which was unpleasant, "...w-what happened?"

Everyone exchanged glances, first directed at the lost aquamarine eyes, and then at the dark amber ones; Donnie's shoulders visibly tensed. However, he reached out to wipe the tears from the other cheek.

"You had a panic attack, from what I can tell… we were finishing training when we heard something loud fall, and then… sensei said he heard sounds like someone was choking," he answered, fingers gently touching Mikey's face as Splinter carefully shifted the mutant's body into a more comfortable position, still remaining in place to embrace him on his knees.

"Perhaps you had a trigger or something else… Have you experienced anything like this before?"

Mikey opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, uncertainty averting his gaze, especially from the emerald eyes looking at him. His gaze dropped to the fabric between his legs, slowly freeing his hands to touch the orange fabric, lifting it, without further words.

Donatello immediately notices it and just sadly squeezes the other's hand around the fabric, biting his lip, looking more distant now.

The orange color no longer looked like the color of happiness in this room, and the younger one's emotions dimmed as Leo brought a glass of water for him to drink and ease the pain in his throat. He was almost tempted to ask the blue one to bring him aspirin, but he held back.

"I saw something similar before, I thought he was just overworked..." Leonardo says softly as he helps the turtle, "...we should probably discuss this later."

Oh. So Leo noticed when he had his own flashback episode? Aw, man. Is he going to have this experience every time now? He doesn't like that idea.

"Yeah... I've got something to share too," added Raph.

Ohhhh. Mikey doesn't look at Raph.

Mikey understands what the conversation would be about and just disappointedly curls up closer to his own body, while Splinter listens to the children's conversation, then with a soft sigh, defensively wraps his arms around Michelangelo.

He bows his head with closed eyes, as if making a decision, gently holding his hand on his son's head, murmuring comforting Japanese words, speaking a little louder to the others.

"My sons, we should discuss all this later, like Leonardo said. Right now, your brother needs some rest and personal space, as do all of you after this incident. Training is over, and you can go back to your own activities. At the moment, I'll stay with Michelangelo and make sure he is alright," his hazel eyes survey the turtle with sympathy.

"Please... all of you, take a rest. That's the most important thing right now," their father softly concludes, noticing how his youngest son's body language became completely closed off.

None of them really wanted to leave, but seeing how Mikey was scared to talk to them and just hid his face, they forced themselves to accept it and get up. Leo, with an almost sympathetic and responsible look, helps Raph, who is resistant, even as unshed tears and his own concern linger in his eyes, hurriedly wiping his eyes.

As the eldest, he also pulls Donnie by the hand, urging him to move, leading the two broken brothers out of the situation, trying to give them more comfort to deal with all this tension, ignoring how he bit the inside of his cheek.

And when the turtles left, only two remained in the room, father and son.

Michelangelo finally cried quietly, worried about the things happening around him. The memories brought him physical pain as well as put him in the most uncomfortable position. Sensei softly hummed a japanese song to him, trying to soothe the worry, gently rubbing the boy's shell and head, trying to show that he was safe. The mutant's head really hurt a lot, though he wasn't sure if it was from crying. He hadn't cried before this, seemingly not having the right to, but clutching the scrap of orange fabric, guilt and sorrow weighed on him more heavily.

It was like the responsibility he didn't live up to others' expectations. He could see how they looked at him, but as if through him, as if he were a ghost to them.

As if he were a ghost to himself, seeing in reflections only unfamiliar bright eyes that clearly belonged to the owner who loved life and people in it more than anything else in the world. That energy he couldn't seem to match.

And the fact that he couldn't fully remember others, seeing how everyone needed him to be normal again.

The lullaby ends when Mikey stops crying to finally break free from the warm embrace, as the caring father helps him sit at the table, covering his shoulders with a blanket. No questions are asked, reminding him of that moment with Raph in the kitchen, but at the same time, it feels like Master Splinter knew what was on his mind and in his heart.

Michelangelo leans on the table, fidgeting with the fabric in his hands, not looking talkative either, sniffling.

He didn't have the energy to apologize for his behavior or feel too embarrassed. Besides, the brown-haired man acted as if nothing had happened. Good or bad, it helps him take his mind off things.

"My son, would you like some fruit? It seems there's still some left here," he speaks first, which surprises him a little, but doesn't upset him, as Mikey hesitantly sways, then nods, while the other retrieves a basket of fruit.

The sweet scent fills the room as the eldest Hamato cleans the fruits for them on a plate, separating the slices, especially the oranges, and also takes out a knife to cut the apples into bunny shapes, moving it closer to the teenager.

"Hmm, maybe we could put the kotatsu back in the living room for a while, it is a little crowded in here for all of us right now," that seemed like a good idea, his feet were pleasantly warmed under the table, and he definitely wouldn't mind staying like this for a while.

Mikey casually reaches for an orange to eat a piece, the citrussy, sweet taste was pleasantly tangy, refreshing, and energizing, "I think that's a good idea, sensei, the guys would dig it."

He liked the idea too, he softened at the thought, helping himself to more sweet fruits. Anyways, being turtles, warmth was important, right? Although the lair wasn't cold, Michelangelo noticed that the temperature was comfortable around.

"Very well... also, do not eat too many oranges, there are apples here too."

Oh, Mikey hadn't noticed he had eaten most of the orange treats, he gifts his father with a clumsy smile as he reaches for an apple, crunching on it between his teeth. The bunny apples are cute. Still, he looks at the fabric on the table, thinking about what happened earlier.

He scared everyone. Caused a real mess. And now he was hiding from the world, here, together with the tall rat, who was cleaning the fruits and occasionally glancing his way with a placid and partly concerned look. Maybe keeping an eye on him helped Yoshi feel some semi-control, that nothing bad would happen.

He wasn't sure.

His head was already hurting, thoughts were hard to come by.

"If you want, we could sew something from the fabric."

Oh, Mikey gets distracted, slowly looking at the rat. He had already finished his task, wiping his hands on a napkin. Surprisingly, Splinter sat straight, looking dignified and graceful, his good posture giving him majesty as he moved the plate closer to the turtle, expectantly looking at him.

Oops. He needed to answer something, right?

And he shook his head with a slight frown, "I don't think it's a good idea, sensei, my memory's a mess, and I don't want to upset them again, reminding them of the mask when it seems important."

And the room fills with light chuckling as Splinter rubs his long beard, smiling slightly in a pensive smile.

"You are as compassionate as ever, my son, you think of others' feelings first and foremost, which shows how big your heart is, despite the lost memories, but still..." he paused, reaching out towards him, tilting his head, "what would you like, Michelangelo? Your altruism should not be coupled with self sacrifice."

Self sacrifice. Those words echo ego in his memory as he remembers another, older brother, his calculating, cold, yet kind eyes, the desire for justice. For some reason, he finds it ironic in the wise words.

"But my selfishness shouldn't cause them pain, just as altruism," Mikey replied, tapping his cheek with his finger, adding, "plus, I don't feel ready."

The rat's whiskers twitched upward as Splinter makes a small pause, nodding.

"Hmmm... You're right, Michelangelo, there is truth in your words, then... how about, creating something new that could satisfy you and not cause pain to others until everyone is ready?"

He lifts his head up, listening intently as he looks at the fabric with slight doubt.

"Something new?"

"Right, my son... once, a very kind and cheerful young man said that orange is the color of happiness, that it allows you to open your heart to something new," the voice was moderate, calm as the hand gestured slightly, then was placed on the table, watching the mutant.

Those were his words, echoing with the familiar ache in his temple.

"So, how can I wear the color when it's not a part of me? It's, after all, a color that belongs to Mikey. I know I am Mikey, but I don't feel like him yet."

"It is enough for you to be who you feel you are now."

There was another pause, a light chuckle of contemplation from the clan's elder as he simply asked.

"Do you like the color?"

And those words caught him off guard. He blinks to make sure he heard it right, then his gaze settles back on the vibrant color, pulsing with life energy, positivity, screaming that the brightest turtle was right here.

Yet, that small memory and the taste of sweet orange fruits paint a tremulous smile on his face as Mikey nods impatiently, pressing the fabric closer.

"Mhm, I do. The color of oranges and the sun... and the color that can make others happy."

Ah, Splinter freezes, his eyes only slightly widening as he clears his throat, clearly caught off guard. He nervously strokes his beard again, then, in a parental gesture, reaches across the table to touch his son's shoulder, looking pleased with the response.

"Then that is enough too, and... I believe it's not so much the color but the personality that fills certain objects with emotions. Orange wouldn't be the color of happiness without someone wearing it," he offers with a touch of tender pride, even with noticeable softness and a hint of sadness in his light amber eyes.

With hesitation, Mikey detaches the color from himself, handing it over, while Splinter cuts a piece of the fabric with scissors, then sets it under the sewing machine's big needle.

"What emotion would you like to imbue this item with, my son?"

And at that question, he's pensive, closing his eyes as he ponders, unsure if he wants to speak or shout to the world, like an orange loud and proud. Yet, his face breaks into a sharp, confident smile, leaning on the table with his hands, ignoring the fatigue in his limbs.

"There's something..."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The sewing machine falls silent as the rat and the young turtle leave the small room to join the others in the kitchen, who were discussing something. Conversations halted as they noticed them. The orange bandana immediately caught everyone's eye as Mikey hesitated but still bestowed a modest smile upon those around him.

On his elbows and knees, protective gear was still present, as were the bandages his father carefully helped him secure on his arms and feet because of the feeling of emptiness on his body when he mentioned it.

Splinter's hand rested on his shell, clearly offering support, as he glanced around, nervously catching a nod of approval, then took a deep breath to point to his bandana.

"What do you think about my new bandana? I like the color! It's... the color of happiness, and also... the color of hope! No matter how dark it gets, this bright color will always be seen!"

He waves his hands around, slightly bouncing with enthusiasm, then clenches his fists together, watching the guys' reactions. Though they all shared a clear surprise on their faces, even shock. Leo seemed to be the first to thaw, looking between his father and his younger brother to smile and cross his arms, looking softly proud.

"It's... lovely. Sounds very familiar, definitely suits you, Mikey."

And in those words, Mikey's gaze truly sparkles, brightening as he steps closer, excitedly moving his hands up and down, "Right? All ‘cause Lee believes in me!"

"Of course, I'll always believe in you," Leonardo replies, hugging Mikey from the side, feeling the familiar, comforting scent from him, smiling softly at it.

Some things never change.

Someone booped his nose, and Mikey turns his head to see Raph staring at him, then patting his head, "Well, sounds like you're calling yourself a star, you're bright, annoying, and loud, no denying that... and also, tell me you didn't eat all of them, I wanted to grab some oranges later."

"Oops?" Mikey hides behind Leo, who tries not to laugh at Raph's puffed cheeks, clearly wanting to taste the fruits, sharing the love for oranges.

Raphael sighs irritably, though turning his head, somehow simultaneously relieved. It seems even his shoulders relax as he simply pats Mikey's head again, who looks at him with a puzzled expression, clearly trying to read the emotions.

Someone coughs, and it's Donatello, who taps Raphael sympathetically on the shoulder, only joining in the laughter last, "The sun is indeed a star, so technically, Mikey has always considered himself one of them, just the biggest and most important."

"Well, yeah, of course, Mikey called himself the brightest star in our planetary system," Raph snorts.

Actually, Don softens, looking deeply concerned, though the smile doesn't leave his face, which Mikey notices, reaching out to touch his brother, who gives him a similar comforting pat on the head. Mikey lost count of how many times his brothers touched him, to casually stroke his head, back, hug, and reassure him he is okay. Yet, it doesn't quite satisfy the youngest's concern, but the purple one didn't seem inclined to talk about it right now as he looked away.

"There is news, my sons, both Michelangelo and I have decided that kotatsu season is coming and we will get it out later, but remember, do not sit too long lest you fall asleep sitting up and... bring more pillows and blankets for yourself and our guests."

"Hai, sensei!"

The remaining worried questions were left behind for now as the orange one thinks Donnie needs a little space before they talk.

Chapter Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀He sat, swinging his legs on one of the Doctor’s spare chairs in the lair. The lab had become a familiar place; he had spent most of his time here since waking up. Though, he felt like even before the incident, he loved to drop by. Seeing the slightly hunched figure of the other turtle across from him, behind the laptop, evoked nostalgia and melancholy; he wasn't surprised why. His brother, Donatello, always seemed a more distant, introverted type of personality from what he could understand. Yet, the turtle was always very diligent in what he did, never wanting to miss anything.

He was here for examination the day after the panic attack or whatever it was, to somehow ease their frightened ghostly faces from white to more vibrant hues.

Especially, according to Mikey, red and purple reacted the worst, though for different reasons; clearly because of him, but the first seemed just scared that his previous episode couldn't be hidden, and the second... Mikey sighed heavily, not knowing what to say.

Simply, the doctor was upset, and he was the source of it.

Or rather, the real Michelangelo, right?

His fingers touched the bandana. The fabric now pleasantly warmed his neck. It was great to have some weight, maybe he used to wear such things in his childhood. Yet, he got the urge to look at the other’s face, slightly tense, while the fingers quickly typed on the keyboard, as if he played the piano, until it stopped.

The chair creaked under Donatello's weight as he leaned back, turning with a heavy sigh, looking at Mikey.

He swallowed.

"Raph said you had a similar episode before this, and Leo also noticed something similar. Have there been cases like this before, Mikey? It's important for me to know, so please tell it as it is," he paused, adding, "even if you don't want to worry or scare us, we need to know."

Ah. That was it, perhaps the other was worried that he might not be telling him things. He felt embarrassed to talk about himself, especially to show such weakness when everyone was worried about his condition with concerned expressions. Mikey himself didn't think it could be so serious. After all, a headache didn't seem to be something really important, and he really was wary of everything.

"Uh, well? It was the first time something like this happened... I didn't hide it! Just... with Leo, it wasn't so bad, then with Raph, I didn't understand what happened, and then, yesterday... it was all a surprise to me too."

A little pause as the red amber eyes read him, as if someone was trying to climb into his mind... not the most pleasant feeling, Mikey would say. He tried to be read like a book with his own pages.

"Very well," Donnie hummed, satisfied as he continued. "Yesterday, you showed me the fabric when I asked about the reason. Why?"

"Umm... because I remembered that I love the color orange? I... I wear an orange mask, well, like, it's not hard to guess when you have your own," Mikey tried to explain, pointing his finger at his own face, "I tried to put the fabric near my face and BOOM, everything went black... but I remembered something, and then woke up when you found me."

Slowly, but the tall turtle writes it all down in his notebook until he stops.

"Was it sudden, or was there something that also reminded you?"

"Mmm, let me think," Mikey taps his fingers on his chin until he snaps his fingers, "head! I always have a headache... Every time something seems to remind me, it gets worse and worse, until something specific becomes the last straw?"

At that moment, he realized he might have said things too late, seeing the wrinkles appearing on Donnie's forehead.

"You've had a headache all this time, and you didn't tell me, Mikey? Why? You know how important it is." His tone was condemning, as if it was obvious, which it was.

His blue eyes drop down, and the enthusiasm in them dims slightly, though he feels a light flash at the back of his head, which quickly fades away as he falls silent, not knowing what to say.

He hears a heavy sigh beside him, noticing out of the corner of his eye as Donatello rubs his face, as if he himself was trying to deal with emotions.

"Alright... alright, sorry if I'm pressing, Mikey, I know you're still adapting, but I'm your doctor, and not to mention, I'm your older brother..." Now the voice was softer as a hand rested on his shoulder, prompting Michelangelo to slowly look up, "...and I need to know these little things so I can help you better."

Mikey nodded.

They were worried about him, so it was probably silly of him to close himself off from them like that.

"I didn't figure it all out myself, so I didn't tell you everything, Donnie, I'm sorry."

The hand on his shoulder tightened slightly, but it wasn't painful; the other turtle tilted his head slightly, looking into his eyes, though the gaze quickly shifted away. "It's okay, Mikey, just don't stay silent about what hurts you anymore."

It was a small promise between them.

"So, headaches from objects? Probably triggers that reminded you of the past, the more you're associated with it, the stronger it could make your brain react to blocked memories."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, it is, but it should be slow," Don shook his head, "if you remember too much too quickly or sharply, it could be traumatic for you, but there's another explanation..."

Towards the end, he hears his brother's voice becoming more strained as he writes something else, the pen scratching, withdrawing his hand from Mikey. Something seemed off, and this pause only made the teenager wary.

"What other explanation?"

The inventor hesitated to answer, meeting the younger brother's eyes, then looking at the table as if trying to find other possibilities.

"Donnie?" Mikey softly repeated.

"...Maybe, the more you remember, the worse the episodes will be," he reluctantly added, "but it's not certain... maybe you remembered everything too quickly or it will be roughly the same, I don't know... I can only observe."

"Oh. Well, that doesn't mean my heart's gonna stop, hehe... huh... right?"

There was a double glance from the other, which lighty annoyed the teenager as he involuntarily flinched. Donnie put down the pen, shaking his head, gathering his thoughts.

"I don't think it will come to that before, we'll try to ease it... tell me, Mikey, what exactly was causing your headache, it could be anything, even words or sounds."

Donatello's tone was always steady in such moments, like a true professional in doctor mode, not allowing himself to be distracted.

"Well, ummm, there were many things..."

Mikey slowly remembered every little detail he could, the screen of the television, the color of the room, the reflection in the mirror, cracks in the floor, many things that might have seemed insignificant but reflected how it affected Michelangelo and his subconscious. Donnie seemed a little taken aback, expecting something more concrete, but he listened attentively as his brother narrated, until he mentioned the note in the lab.

"What about it?" It didn't immediately dawn on him.

"Um... I just thought you were worried I'd mess with stuff when I woke up, so you left a note telling me not to touch things here," Mikey pointed to the shelf where the colorful vials sat, where the note remained.

Donatello quickly rose to his feet, darting over to inspect the various colored vials until he spotted the note: "Don't touch, Mikey." He froze, muttering something under his breath, shutting his mouth as if the note had triggered an unpleasant memory for him.

He ripped the note off and crumpled it, tossing it into the trash.

"Or... it was from before the incident, and I was just being an annoying lil brother?"

"Don't say that." Donnie immediately responded, setting the item back on the shelf with a clatter before returning to Mikey. "You... you're curious, and sometimes, that's gotten you into trouble, messing with my stuff in here. It's always been more for your safety, Mikey."

"But I touched it without your permission, right? Doesn't sound good."

"Yeah, but... you usually ask... though I've denied you when some idea of yours didn't sit right with me, and yes, I admit, sometimes you've annoyed me with how you wouldn't listen, but Mikey, that didn't make you bad."

Now that he said it out loud, Donnie looked really surprised, touching his lips as if he himself hadn't quite realized why all this was more important than something potentially breaking here. He felt a pang of guilt. What could his younger brother have felt, looking at him with those skeptical blue eyes, when he himself didn't often voice it.

He rubbed his head, feeling the headache intensify.

Donnie dropped to one knee beside his brother's chair, observing him. Mikey felt that scrutinizing gaze again, trying to pry out everything, but there was also emotion there, tempering the otherwise even tone.

"Headache?"

Mikey nodded as the other up.

A minute later, Donnie returned with a glass of water and aspirin, which made Mikey almost want to cry, though he accepted it shyly. The pill fizzed in the glass, still bubbling, as he stared at his reflection, tapping the glass with his fingers.

Donatello, on the other hand, slumped back into his chair, looking more exhausted.

"Donnie, did you ever tell me this before?"

"Tell you what?"

"That I'm not bad... though I'm sorry for messing with your things," the mutant repeated softly.

"Oh- I... yeah, probably? Maybe?" it didn't sound like a confident answer, both knew it. Donnie scratched his temple, "I'm sure we all knew it without words... sometimes you'd grab things without thinking, but I know you never meant to hurt yourself or anyone intentionally, but I work with chemicals and extraterrestrial tech, this isn't just our childhood lab anymore."

"Mhm, still, touching your stuff doesn't have a good excuse, even if I wanted to spend time with you," he replied softly.

And at that, Donnie tilted his head a bit, not quite hearing what the other said correctly.

"What?"

Mikey shifted in his seat, patiently explaining, "It seems we were close as kids, also, we're the youngest... I've spent a lot of time here in the past, like you said, from ‘our childhood lab’, and this place... it feels so familiar and warm to me too, like I know every item, where it belongs, obviously, I probably just wanted to spend more time with you?"

"Maybe I have some sort of affinity for science in a way, everything here feels so close, even your handwriting or other notes I've seen in the old notebook."

At some point, he began to smile softly, as if something pleasant had just slipped into his memory, even if it was just a fleeting feeling.

"But don't we spend enough time together that you don't have to do that anymore?"

Ah. A flash of pain returned with a vengeance, making Mikey grimace.

"I- I can't answer that question. Only the real Mikey knows the answer, sorry," and again, he had to disappoint others. The smile faded, and his hands clenched tightly around the glass.

Now purple looked concernedly pensive, folding his hands in front of him on the table, partly covering his face.

"...Maybe you can't remember, but you think like him... Oh, Mikey, you're still my little brother," Donnie softened his harsher words, giving the other a sympathetic glance.

Mikey briefly chuckled, whether out of joy or irony.

"You all say that."

"Because it's true."

He didn't argue with that. Donatello seemed to be right about everything he said, though it was nice to find something he seemed not to know, something Mikey could fill in. The teenager finally drank his sparkled water, grimacing a bit at the taste, but he forced himself.

Donnie took the glass from him, setting it aside, a nice gesture on his part, although he'd have to wait a while for the medicine to kick in.

"You always spend a lot of time here, Doc, doesn't it get lonely?"

"No, because you're still here for me, you don't let me stay here. Only as much as I want, Mikey," Donnie replied, then added softly with a fragile smile, echoing what Mikey had said earlier, "you don't let me feel lonely, you're always interested in seeing my new projects, even if you don't understand much about science."

Oh, Mikey looked at him for a while, with a goofy expression, before bursting into laughter, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What's so funny?" the other grumbled, after such a touching speech, crossing his arms.

"Because, Donnie, you can be silly too!"

"Hey! I'm not silly!... What do you mean?"

Mikey needed a moment longer to stop laughing and scoot closer to the table, touching his brother's hand with twinkling eyes.

"Maybe I'm curious, but... I think I'm just trying to spend more time with you and make you happy too. You're a scientist, besides, you don't like leaving the lab, and I just want you... to be okay, Donnie..." a dull ache flashed through his temples as he blinked, adding more automatically with a lost look, surveying the whole lab, "you... you're always so tense, you worry about us, care... you feel responsible."

He pointed around, indicating objects, vivid pictures clear in his mind until Donnie stared at him somewhat bewildered.

"There's a bunsen burner over there, and samples from the Kraang ships there, in that left drawer, you keep engineering tools, and under the shelf, some parts for Shellraiser and..."

His speech dulled as some images jumped in his mind, something he knew so well:

"No one can stand against the B Team! We're an unbeatable duo! Haha! Did you see that? Booyah! Hu! Ha! Ya!"

They just fist bumped after defeating the purple dragons, dealing with the miscreants on this deep night. Donnie quickly pulled his hand back, as if he'd been burned.

"Don't call us that, how many times do I have to say it! Geez..."

"Oops! Sorry, Dee! I just like our name, it's so cool, dude!" Mikey covered his bright grin with his hand as he stepped over the body in front of him, not wanting to harm a guy who couldn't fight back.

They still adhered to the first rule of the ninja: do no harm. Unless you mean to do harm, then do lots of harm. Though Mikey felt sorry for causing anyone pain, he'd do it without hesitation when the bad guys tried to hurt his family.

Ah, he got lost in his thoughts again, only to see Donnie rummaging through some bag, examining what the dragons had stolen, rolling his eyes in the process.

"You literally call us second-best, after the first, that's not even close to being 'cool', Mikey."

"But it's not like that at all!" he puff retorted.

"Then don't call us that."

Now Mikey looked displeased, though still restraining himself as the police would easily round up the members of this dangerous group. It would be sad if their work went to waste and these guys managed to escape.

"You just don't get it," Mikey muttered still.

Donnie turned around.

"Did you say something?"

"N-nothing!"

He hurried to do his part of the job.

Mikey tied up the first baddie's hands behind his back with a secure knot, then looped around to tie the others in a circle. It used to not go so well for him before, but now he could say he was a pro at tying any knot like a boy scout. Mikey wiped his forehead when he felt his work was done, then returned to Donnie, who eagerly put some of the stolen parts into his own bag.

"Don, find anything interesting? I thought you've been lectured enough about stealing," with a curious tone, Mikey peeked over his brother's shoulder, tapping his back.

"Who? Me? Steal? Of course not," Donnie flinched, though looking confident in what he was doing, "It's no crime to steal from a thief."

Orange took a step back with a straight face, then with a slight frown, crossed his arms, "dude... Leo won't be happy, and the people who lost these things will be upset," everyone in the lair knew about the inventor's crazy tech inclinations, though it's hard to blame a turtle when getting parts for his projects was quite a challenge, especially the new ones.

He had to glare at the other disapprovingly as Donnie sighed heavily, muttering something about motorcycle filters. Oh, didn't Raph just have a breakdown recently? It seemed the two turtles weren't in the mood because of it. And Mikey's expression softened as he looked away, then sharply smiled.

"But... maybe no one will notice if we bring a few things home, pfft, I'm sure these guys will survive it. A small price for saving New York," he waved it off, taking his brother's side to sit next to him, "so, what did you find? I want to know what this is for, Don!"

It seemed the younger brother's words lifted his spirits as brown eyes sparkled with growing enthusiasm, quickly transferring some parts into the bag while no one noticed them. "Well, if you want to know, I was planning to use this for the filter on Raph's motorcycle, where there's been a malfunction in the fuel flow process, which naturally could have led to engine failure."

"And the engine's overheating frequently and almost went out as a result, pistons and valves got damaged, which also require replacement..."

And the other delved into explaining how the engine system works, folding his hands together, sometimes gesturing, and even making sounds as they gathered more parts than the clan elders would approve of, except for the red one, and headed home through the dark tunnels.

Mikey didn't quite understand but remembered what a filter looked like, asking questions and insisting on being present for the repair of the motorcycle itself, while Donnie, with evident excitement,didn’t seem too against the idea for now, as long as he didn't interfere with him. He figured he could compromise a little on morals for his brother's smile, who was always tensely trying to find a way out of any situation with his mind. Indeed, a small price, and it wasn't up to him to judge the morality of it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀...Strong hands touched his shoulders, gently rocking him in place. "...Mikey? Hey... you okay? Can you hear me?"

After a few seconds, the familiar sparkle returned to his eyes, meeting with the wide dark ambers that stared at him intently. Damn, he had that thing again. He already felt tired, slumping heavily forward in his chair.

"Sorry..."

His voice trembled halfway, although Donnie looked only relieved, letting out a similar uneven exhale. Shaking his head, the tall mutant moved the chair closer, enveloping Mikey in a hug, allowing him to relax, to be comforted, and to feel that his younger brother wasn't about to suffocate anytime soon, though it seemed like he was close to it.

"It'll be okay, Mikey, just relax, remember to breathe in and out, we'll get through this... like we always do," the quiet, measured voice was soothing, "maybe the number of triggers also affects how often and badly the episodes occur... this time wasn't as bad."

Following the instructions, the turtle focuses on his breathing, burying his face in the plastron of the other, nostalgically smelling the pungent scent, it was definitely motor oil, which summoned a faint smile from him, hoping that the aspirin would soon help him deal with how unpleasant it was to think.

"So... is the engine running smoothly now..? Raph would be upset if the filters clogged up again and the parts inside got damaged..." he asked quietly.

The way Donnie squeezed him closer made Mikey feel joy, "...the engine's running okay, Raph keeps an eye on the filter, we found a decent replacement last time... The B Team handled it better than anyone."

Mikey chuckles softly, filled with amusement.

"I thought you didn't like it when I called us that, Dee," he teased in response.

"Shh... I just don't get why you like it so much, but without the two of us, it's a whole different story," a caring hand strokes his head, showing much more concern, "so that's what you remembered just now... I was worried you wouldn't remember me."

"Yeah, and some other stuff too, you're a mad scientist when you want to be... couldn't help but remember my partner-in-crime."

Mikey affectionately chirps, rubbing his chin against his brother's neck, embracing him in return, while Donnie, albeit hesitantly, responds with the same affection, not letting go.

"You're the naming master, but you chose that name, even though you and Raph are The Sunset duo, so unfair."

The turtle pinches his bicep, Donnie yelps, pinching him back. They smile at each other without looking into each other's eyes.

"Don't doubt my name skills, Don, that name is perfect," he tilts his head up slightly, almost disbelievingly asking. "You really don't get it?"

"No..?"

Mikey shakes his head, clicking his tongue, as he explains with a slight smile, "I call us that because if The A Team fails, then here we are, the backup plan. If everything goes down, we're the hope that saves the day."

And Donnie's eyes widen, even with a hint of surprise, as the younger of the clan politely explains.

"I know Leo and Raph are strong, but even they're not all powerful, sometimes only we can help," the memories of this description turned out to be truly pleasant, it seemed like Mikey always had a point.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that?" the purple one asked, surprised.

"You never asked," came the simple reply.

Donatello is forced to cover his mouth with his hand, being taken aback, then only embracing his brother tighter. He looks at the wall, at the scientific poster, analyzing the information. How his brother always acts, thinks, how little he tried to understand this path, making premature conclusions.

Even more, why he never asked, when Donnie was the one who asked questions, although in their duo Mikey never lagged behind in that regard.

"Hey, Michael, wanna tell me something else? I'd listen..."

"Really? Oh, I-I'm not sure what to talk about, haha, feeling guilty, Dee?"

"Maybe. 'Cause you always considered The B Team as the hope team, while I automatically wrote it off."

"I just think positively, and you're a pessimist, pfft."

"I prefer the word, realist."

With a soft sigh, Donnie rubs the other's head again, bright aquamarine eyes full of more familiar mischief.

"The B Team?"

"Haha, The B Team is the best one, Mikey."

They smiled at each other, although Mikey had to wipe unexpected moisture from his eyes, feeling awkward, yet relieved.

"Haha, actually, Donnie, tell me more about these triggers, panic attacks and stuff. How can I better cope with this, I don't want to scare you guys."

And himself too.

The elder's expression softens, "Of course, Mikey."

And they both move closer to the laptop, where Donnie explains everything in a light monotone voice, expecting questions and asking them in return to make sure Mikey understood everything.

"Can I see more pictures? It's easier to remember seeing..."

Donnie really remembers that Mikey's visual memory is stronger...

"Exactly, you perceive visually, so your memory is better activated that way, so when we talk to you about the past, you barely perceive it..."

The scientist hits himself on the forehead dramatically.

"Holy Chalupa, what an idiot I am! Mikey, I know how to help you remember faster."

Enlightenment shines in Donnie's confident expression as he finally found the best slice to the problem's solution.

Chapter Text

"My sons, as you already know, Michelangelo will be present at some of our training sessions as an outside observer," the main voice was loud enough in the dojo as all the ninjas sat on their knees. "This will help him recover faster, both spiritually and physically, but as Donatello said, we should not overload him, just help him through this journey."

Ah. The light-green turtle awkwardly fidgets in place, glancing from the right end to the beginning of the left, only Donnie sat next to him, and behind him, Raph, and after him, Leo. He wonders if such seating arrangement was because he was the youngest, and blue was considered the oldest? Well, he wasn't sure, but it was nice to have a bit more space to be able to move a bit, in the mutant's humble opinion.

Although he was allowed to not sit on his knees, it's the first thing he instinctively does on par with others, wondering at how his body actually remembers how he used to move, what position he used to sit in, and much more. Muscle memory remained well developed in some sense.

"We will start with meditation, Michelangelo, do you wish to join us?"

The question snaps the turtle out of his thoughts, like gazes directed towards him. He could never get used to this heightened attention.

"I don't mind, sensei, if nobody else does."

Except for a few pairs of concerned looks at him, and then at the purple one, it seemed like no one spoke up.

"Very well," the rat rubs his chin, smiling slightly. "Place your hands in your lap with your palms facing upwards, right palm resting on top of left. Then close your eyes and allow your body and mind to relax."

Master Splinter kindly explained and demonstrated on himself what exactly needed to be done, and Mikey followed it, as did the others. With the closing of his eyes, came a somewhat unfamiliar darkness, which he personally didn't like.

"Now, we must allow our chakras to open to let our life energy, Chi, flow through our bodies. When our chakras are closed, it accumulates fatigue and negativity, it should not be blocked, as it can affect our emotional and physical health, which is unacceptable for a ninja, as well as an ordinary person."

This information from his father's mouth gave him an understanding of what was supposed to happen, but he found it a little difficult to concentrate, not understanding how he was supposed to make this work.

He tries to meditate for a few minutes, which turns into longer ones. Something always distracts him. Whether it's the others' breath, which he suddenly started hearing sharply, or the skin's sensation touching the soft mat.

Sometimes his own movements, which happened involuntarily, almost made him twitch in place.

Although he was supposed to force himself to stop thinking, it was at this moment that he started thinking more about other things, which were much more interesting and pleasant than the inaction, which seemed too boring, numbing his body.

"Is something wrong, my son?"

Ah, he opens his childlike eyes, light spills back around, pleasantly enough to know that this address was to him. He could almost feel the gaze on him.

"I'm finding it hard to focus, sensei, I'm sorry... I'm trying to do what you're saying, but I can't," he first said aloud, then whispered, glancing at his meditating brothers, who didn't pay them much attention, anyway, especially the blue one.

Though... he's drawn to what he sees, some white shimmer with different shades around each, especially near Leo. He squints, trying to scrutinize as if until he hears a response:

"You have had trouble with concentration before," Splinter notes. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, sensei, not really... sure, I'm thinking about stuff, but I really tried, just... it's not working, am I doing something wrong?"

Mikey looks down, almost bashfully hiding his gaze.

"I don't think so," this time, the voice sounded softer.

There were no judgments in those words, which somewhat eased the teenager's guilt, as Master Splinter had hoped. Of course, he knew about this son's special trait, but always thought it was because of his unrestrained energy, doing something else. Now, when the other was as clear as a sheet, he found it strange that it wasn't working when he really looked odd at the moment.

"I have a hunch..." a third voice speaks up, belonging to Donnie, "Maybe Mikey has one specific thing. April, Mr. O'Neil, and I discussed this some time ago, but rehabilitation took precedence to really check... maybe Mikey can't control some things, like sometimes unconsciously being in a state of heightened activity."

"Specific thing?"

Ah. Honestly, Mikey didn't like those words, which was evident in his slightly furrowed brows.

"It's not dangerous," Donnie hastily adds.

The turtle cracks open one eye, interrupting his meditation, which probably wasn't complete anyway; after all, this training wasn't easy for him either, who always had thoughts in his head.

"If that’s how it is, thank you for informing us, Donatello. Let's discuss this after the training, my sons."

And with those words, Splinter considers trying a different approach, closer to what sometimes helped his younger child, to concentrate a little more.

"You are tense. Take a deep breath in and out, Michelangelo, let go of all thoughts," breathing, something Mikey had only recently learned, so without arguing, he nods slightly, doing as he's told, closing his eyes, "now, let your mind flow with the current, let your thoughts guide you, and then they will only become a faint reminder as you circulate your energy... let it fill you."

"If sensei led me somewhere by the hand...?"

The mutant's whiskers twitch up.

"Why not."

Alright, that's exactly what Mikey tried to imagine, filling the void with images that could help him focus.

"Trust your feelings, trust your instincts and intuition, as you always do, let them guide you along your own path, my son."

The voice, so filled with wisdom, becomes quieter, retreating somewhere into Mikey's consciousness, while his chest barely moves, slowing his own breathing. He thinks of the warm feeling of his father's hand, how comfortably it fits into his own green palm, which was once comical but now more. After all, in childhood, he fit entirely into his father's palm.

And a gentle warmth fills his body, a feeling of lightness as he opens his eyes, but he certainly wasn't in the real world when he sees his father's statuesque big back. And he follows him, when he turns around, leading through the darkness into the light, which fills everything and nothing.

His fingers tingle as they stop at the crossroads, and the tall rat without words looks at him, tilting his head, as if giving him a choice. And slowly, not too confidently, he takes a step forward to look around. He could feel different threads auras around, as if he could even taste the color and name how the colors sound.

And then he feels the wind, the turtle turns, and then tightly holds the hand of the sensei, to lead him to where they were invited. The space is tinted in shades of the sky, and the earth reflects clouds, as if mirror-water, as a little further away, blooming white cherry blossoms, while a woman sits peacefully underneath, drinking tea.

Mikey needs a moment to take it in, to glance at who he came with and notice how Splinter's face reflects pure surprise, his fur halfway standing on end. And yet, looking towards the dark-haired woman, who smiled at them from afar, waving her hand in their direction, he feels familiar Chi. He definitely met this lady in his dreams and... not only.

They shifted closer to sit together on the blanket.

Everything was set for a little feast while the adults embraced, exchanging words that sounded like whispers of the wind. However, Michelangelo finds consolation in it, wishing his brothers would join next time too.

A petal falls into his cup of tea.

For a moment, everything truly seems like it's falling into place. The woman sweetly leans in, his eyes half-wet as she tenderly pats his head, then kisses his forehead. Maternal love reaches deep into his soul as he smiles at his parents.

Right now, he feels halfway full, just like his cup.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Someone patted his shell and called his name. It takes the teenager a moment to come to, opening his eyes and then squinting against the blinding light and blurry silhouettes.

"...Michelangelo, my son, meditation is over."

His gaze begins to focus as he rubs his eyes, looking around in a daze. Catching Leo's touch, his expression mixes surprise with pride. Did he do something good?

"...Is it all over already?" he mumbles.

"Yep, otōto, we're done. You did really well. You were the last one to come out of the astral world, and your aura was really stable."

"I haven't seen him sit still for ages," Donnie adds.

Master Splinter rubs his eyes too, but for a different reason it seems. Yet Mikey seems to understand, a soft smile forming as things click in his mind.

Then he looks up, shaking his head.

"I met mom. She was kind and sweet," his voice draws everyone's attention, as he touches his chest, "she was there for me... for all of us."

It sounds surreal as the elder brothers exchange glances and then look at Splinter, who gazes at the pink sakura in the dojo. Mikey follows it.

"What do you say we have a little tea party after the training, Michelangelo?"

A cheerful smile lights up his green cheeks.

"Sounds great, papa."

And they share smiles as Splinter gathers his thoughts to continue the training, but not before giving his youngest son a grateful hug, which comes both paternal warmth and a faint scent of fur and some herbs.

From then on, he's allowed to observe.

⠀⠀⠀⠀After the ninja training, Mikey doesn't immediately notice that he dozed off a bit during the process, which surprises him since his limbs aren't as tingly as they usually are. He attributes it to having spent so much time sitting still.

His brothers leave after finishing the cleanup, probably to take showers and rest. Mikey follows the tall rat to his room, where he's gestured to sit at a small Japanese-style table called chabudai. The room smells of herbs and spices as always. Splinter sets a small electric kettle to boil while arranging small cups for the two of them and adding some secret sweets.

The small room, decorated in a classic Asian style, features a futon instead of a regular bed. Instead of concrete, the floor is soft yet firm, surprisingly not cold compressed straw with reed and cotton. Tatami is difficult to maintain, and they help Master Splinter with its upkeep every year so he can feel a drop of his long forgotten homeland.

It doesn't take long for the boiling water to be poured into the teapot filled with herbs, and after a while, it's poured into their cups. Mikey holds the hot clay cup with the tips of his fingers, waiting for it to cool, while Master Splinter looks at him.

"So, my son... today's meditation was very well done. We were able to not only focus but also meet someone who has long been gone."

"Ah, thanks, papa. I'm not sure if I did everything right like the others, but I'm glad we could visit mom again together."

In his father's eyes, an emotion flashes sharply, a loss Mikey couldn't mistake for anything else.

"I'm proud of you, my son," the sensei slowly takes the first sip, elegantly holding the cup at the edge of the saucer with one hand and supporting it from below with the other, "you're truly very talented and connected to the spiritual world more than anyone else."

"Me?"

"You."

"Oh-"

The ninja blinks as he feels a sense of bewilderment in those words, along with embarrassment, yet warmth fills his insides, averting his gaze.

"Maybe I'm strict on you four, but each of you are talented in your own way. You're more talented than all three of them, but you need time to unfold your potential," he gently explains, "Michelangelo, you're the most compassionate and kind, you're the heart of the team, guiding them on the right path. Your kindness is enough for your enemy to lay down their weapon without a fight, and that's your greatest gift."

Ah, the younger rocks back and forth, listening to what's being said about him. "Sensei, aren't those the most important things for a ninja? Besides, if I'm so talented, then why didn't I notice I was the strongest among my brothers?"

The rat shakes his head with a slight smile.

"You show seriousness, blossoming like a rosebud with thorns only when necessary, putting the protection for those you love above everything else," he closes his eyes. "There are flaws and strengths in that. You're a playful person, my son, but more than once, your kindness and different thinking have helped us win battles."

It seems Splinter is lost in memories, leisurely sipping tea, while Michelangelo does the same, inhaling the pleasant herbs that soothe and warm his soul, taking slow, deliberate sips.

"...Do you think, sensei, others will someday see more in me?"

The voice sounds slightly different, and those once murky blue eyes momentarily sparkle with a familiar, insightful aquamarine hue, as if there were many thoughts behind those eyes, while Michelangelo looks away.

"And will you see more in me too?" The gaze softens with a hint of sadness as it turns to him, as if his son has finally returned, as he chuckles softly, "heh, sorry, Master Splinter, I'm not sure why I asked that."

And these words leave the old man stunned by how aware his son might be of many things, yet not showing it. However, his lips press together, and his whiskers tremble slightly.

"You are already more than anything, Michelangelo, and I can't help but be proud to have a son like you," the sensitive words, seeking to comfort the other, sound softer.

"I know, papa... I love you too," and the turtle smiles shyly at him, "say that to us more often, sometimes I miss you there."

And these words are addressed to his father, not the sensei, as the other tilts his head slightly, taking it in, and also apologizing to the other for not showing enough of it.

"You have grown so much, my son," the voice only slightly trembles, full of emotions as he too bestows upon the other a gentle smile, "do not hold yourself back, others will see how beautifully you blossom under the bright sun."

The teenager nods, placing the cup down to fold his hands together and respectfully bow to the other, not hiding how his cheeks or fingertips tremble as he wipes tears from his eyes.

For the first time in a long while, Mikey feels like himself, knowing these were the right words that had long needed discussion.

"My son, allow me to ask you one more thing. What did Tang Shen tell you?"

Mikey smiles mysteriously, simply uttering what signifies familial bonds: "Anata wa hitori ja nai."

And the two smile at each other, for this phrase easily answers the question without unnecessary words, which the son may have heard while spending a long time between the astral and mortal worlds. His wife, like their clan's guardian, has always been there for them.

And the conversation continues for a while until another turtle appears, the tallest of them all.

"Sensei, I've come as you wished."

"Very well, my son, please, have a seat, I will pour you some tea."

Donnie sits down slowly, their gazes meeting briefly. Mikey gives him a slight smile, though he feels bad about the conversation that they're about to have.

"...So, I mentioned earlier about the specific thing Mikey has. We conducted a preliminary assessment with mr. O'Neil, and it's possible you have congenital ADHD," Purple speaks calmly, turning his attention to his younger brother, muttering softly, "of course, this requires detailed examinations and tests, but there are many common symptoms that explain the difficulties Mikey faces."

Tea was being poured slowly as Mikey seemed more interested in the pictures on the wall, drawn in ink, than in what Doc was saying.

"Mikey, are you listening?"

"Oh- yeah! Of course..." Mikey blinks, fidgeting with his fingers on the table, "...what did you say again?"

And Donatello shows no sign of irritation, just shaking his head.

"Dissociation, as well as uncontrolled inattention, when you sharply zone out and stop listening and perceiving the surrounding world, are some of the things commonly encountered in attention disorders."

Sensei sets the teapot back in place, sitting down and quietly observing, but worry lurks in the depths like a father's concern, as the inventor takes out a small notepad, "Please continue, Donatello."

"It's attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, some people are born with it. It's typically characterized by problems with attention concentration, hyperactivity, and impulsivity. Symptoms can vary: difficulty with organization, forgetfulness, inability to concentrate, often breaks in work, tendency to make risky decisions, anxiety, and restlessness."

"I was born wrong already," Michelangelo murmurs softly, lowering his gaze.

As knowing this would happen, Purple casts him a sympathetic glance, reaching out to touch his hand.

"Michael, you were born as you needed to be, just with more things to struggle with," Donnie speaks confidently yet supportive, "what you've managed to cope with all these years is admirable, not condemnable."

"Isn't that the same thing, tho?"

Someone forgives the voice, and the two turtles look at their master's sturdy figure.

"Please, Michelangelo, don't speak so disparagingly about yourself, I want this to be the first and last time."

Michelangelo looks even gloomier, but with a quiet sigh, resisting some inner thoughts, he reluctantly nods, "M'kay... I didn't mean to upset you."

"Thank you, my son."

"You upset us only when you talk about yourself like that, Angelo," Donatello uses a more affectionate nickname, rare enough to pat the other on the head, "you still don't remember everything and are recovering, but I'm sorry we thought you might not be trying hard enough and fooling around... maybe you're just unknowingly getting distracted."

Well, it was hard for him to analyze himself in that context, probably when his memories fully return, it will make more sense. Yet, there was something comforting in Donatello's words to quell his anxiety.

The feeling of inferiority and this specific thing makes him feel different from everyone else, but he hopes Donnie is right .The real Mikey could handle this, right? After all, he is the owner of the orange color.

"Thanks, aniki-chan."

A light smile is shared between the brothers as they drink tea with sweets, discussing both serious and trivial matters in their father's company. It was a pleasant pastime for all three to gather like this more often.

After a while, they leave Master Splinter, who hugs them both, rubbing their shells. The turtles head towards their rooms, but Donatello calls out to the other.

"Hey, Mikey... your dark circles under your eyes are becoming noticeable, if you need to, my door is always open for you."

Ah. Perhaps his family did notice after all, or maybe Raph told them. He's not sure, but the doorknob turns as aquamarine eyes gaze at his brother tenderly.

"Thanks, Dee, I'll keep that in mind," and he steps inside to tend to his things.