Chapter Text
It was one in the morning. Awfully late.. or early. Whatever makes more sense. Mikey was still awake. Wide awake. Though it wasn't anything too out of the woods it still felt weird, knowing that there's a possibility that he'll be groggy and exhausted in the morning. None so much to the point that he'll make it obvious though. He figured he could sneak some caffeine. Nothing he hasn't done before but it was still risky even so.
He was sitting on the left end of his hammock that was more facing the entrance of his room. His lights were off but it wasn't pitch black. He hated the dark, so he got multi-colored RMB and hanging lights. They weren't so much that it lit up the entire room, but it made his room look as nice as he wanted it to look.
He was wearing his orange, overly sized hoodie that lengthed down to the bottom of his knees. He was wearing his leg warmers too- unsure of the reason why. He felt more comfortable with them on.
He was playing with the bandages around his fingers, feeling himself and his brain tap out. He was thinking about the recent events that occured- finding himself getting lost in his own thoughts. He stared at his fingers and hands, contemplating. He hasn't spoken much the entire day, nor has he eaten much or consumed water. In his brain, he hoped that nobody picked anything up. He knew they, as in his brothers, probably did. That's one of the things that worried him most.
For that moment, he paused his hand motions for a split second. He hadn't done anything productive today other than ordering food and that was the bare minimum. He hated that. Normally, he'd cook for everybody rather than just doing something as little as *ordering food.* Mind you, he's been trying for months on end now. Especially after the.. Krang's invasion attempt.
Mikey was the least injured, he believes. So he feels like he has to take count and responsibility for helping and aiding everyone. So he did. He was doing good, but today he felt unproductive. Like what he was doing and what he's *been* doing wasn't good enough.. or enough in general. But as of today and tonight, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. It's not that he didn't *want* to because he very much did, but he had zero motivation in doing any of those things.
Finally, he sighs. His breath came out shakily. He felt tension gripping against the skin of each of his limbs. He hated the feeling.. heck, he disliked feelings in general. I mean, who wouldn't? Especially one's nobody could necessarily control. Emotions take up a lot of energy. The energy he really needed.. maybe that's why he's been unmotivated? He wasn't sure.
He shifted his legs, then crossed them. Where were his fidgets? The objects crossed his mind once he took notice of how his shaking, tension, and fidgeting worsened. He felt uncomfortable. The silence really bothered him more than anything. He felt more attached to his brothers more than anybody else he knew. That includes his own fathers and other friends. They were... different. The idea and actual hearing of things being dead silent scared him. He knew that he shouldn't be scared because everybody was-- is. Perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Of course, you still worry anyway.
He felt off.. and weird. He needed a distraction. But what?
He thought harder for a moment before sighing once more. He began to push himself off of the red cloth of the hammock, stumbling upon his own feet. He sounded like he was terrified to the verge of hyperventilating but he wasn't. At all. His breathing was off and he felt a little dizzy. If anything, it was because of his lack of getting out of his room today. He sucked that truth in once he stabilized himself.
He began heading for the entrance of his room, exiting the space. He felt even more uncomfortable and wary. Things seemed to have been much more creaky this late. Or early. He was afraid to get caught. The last thing he needed was anybody really knowing of really.. anything going on with him.
Mikey continued walking slowly and reluctantly. He made it to the living space.. finally. He quickened his pace to reach the exit of the *new* lair. Which was a train station. He took a deep breath once he made it there, then proceeded forward. His footsteps were small but quick, patting against the concrete.
The sounds of his own feet bothered him a little, but he moved faster. Eventually, making it to the entrance and exit of the abandoned train station. He wasn't out of breath, but he still breathed heavily. He's never snuck out before so it was oddly scary to him. Nonetheless, he pushed on and avoided any gunk nearby and found himself outside.
He takes a glance around. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. It was just the good ol' New York city he knows and loves.. well, maybe not entirely with how it was recently rebuilt and such but that never made Mikey look at it any differently. Kind of like his family! They and things changed but that never made him view them as any less than before.
... That got depressing.
The box turtle shakes his head frantically before looking forward, where he would eventually head down to.
"This feels wrong.." He muttered. He wasn't *entirely* far off. It was wrong to sneak out, but where was the fun in breaking a rule from time to time? It wasn't anything.. unusual in the family.
He put his hood over his head, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and began to walk forward through the sidewalks nearby. The concrete was rough as per usual, pushing roughly against the bottom of his feet. By this point, he was used to it. It wasn't something that bothered him too much.
As he looked around and about, he admired and analyzed all of the colors and lights surrounding him and everywhere. All sorts of shades of neon and bright colors were planted all around the city buildings and shops.. just everywhere to be spotted. It looked appealing to Mikey's eyes. He loved colors. In a way, it reminded him of his room.. the place he should be in right now. Resting. Sleeping. But of course, he wasn't. Starting to internally beat himself up about it because now, he remembered that he has to be quick to go back to the lair and pretend as if he was sleeping the entire time.
Something about walking around the city this late felt relaxing, but at the same time, it ingests a sense of anxiety and paranoia in him. If he was with someone else, sure he'd feel safer. Especially if it was big brother Raph. Raph being somebody who would fumble you into a million if you just looked at his family the wrong way. Absolutely. Really, he just felt safer with any of his brothers near.
In all honesty, who wouldn't be like that? In such a harsh, fowl world that we live in filled with disgusting and vile creatures- its hard to not be paranoid of your surroundings. Especially alone. At night. Where all of the predators come up to stalk their prey.
Mikey couldn't even think straight when it comes to those thoughts. He looked around a little frantically, iffy about the people who were still up and about at this hour.
Thankfully, nobody was really.. near him. He'd feel even worse and tense if somebody was right next to him, behind, or anything else. The idea of getting kidnapped or worse was bad enough as it is.
He swallowed down what felt like a lump in his throat and tried taking some of those breathing exercises he'd help his brothers do in the middle of distress and where they felt as if the stress and pressure was blowing up in their bodies altogether. He'd take their hand only slightly tightly as he'd make sure his voice was calm and steady, then took deep breaths with them.
Needless to say however, he did not ask for help back whenever he needed it. He didn't answer honestly whenever being asked if he was okay when truly, he wasn't at those moments.
He thought about all of those things above altogether, them swarming around in his mind. He felt guilty because of how he treated himself, how if one day, maybe, he would let everything out and it would just make things worse. He hated that. The thought of it made his breath hitch, it scared him.
A lot of things scared him the more he thought about it.
“What a baby..” He scoffs to himself as he continued his routine of putting one foot in front of the other, walking further and further away from the place he called home.
What do to next.. where to go next?