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Michelangelo had never been good at ignoring the way tension curled in the walls. He felt it in the way Leonardo had barely touched his dinner, fork scraping across his plate as Raphael fidgeted across from him, leg bouncing like a taut wire. He felt it in the way Donnie kept glancing up from his schematics, worried but unwilling to intervene.
He has a unique ‘gift’. Mikey was capable of understanding everyone’s emotions no matter how hidden. The polar opposite of Donatello. oddly similar in regard of the two other primary colored turtles. All of them are connected in different ways.
Mikey wandered into the dojo out of instinct more than thought. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe he just didn’t want to be alone with the tension anymore.
Splinter sat at the far end, facing away from the door, his posture rigid in a mockery of calm. His meditation had always felt like something sacred but tonight, Splinter felt like the center of a storm barely contained in a thin glass bottle. Now that they were alone his father showed a side of him only Mikey could see.
“You may speak,” the rat said, before Mikey could even form a greeting.
Mikey hesitated. “They’re fighting again.”
Splinter’s eyes opened slowly. His gaze landed on Michelangelo. He eyes harsh but his face had no change.
“Leonardo and Raphael,” Splinter said, as if Mikey needed the clarification. “Of course.”
The bitterness in his voice didn’t match the calm of his words. Mikey shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the mat.
“It’s not like… just fighting, though. They hurt each other, but they’re always there for each other whenever they need each other most, I dunno. I just want to stay here for a little bit so they can get it out of their system.”
Splinter’s whiskers twitched, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he stood, moving across the dojo with the deliberate grace of a predator pacing a cage.
“They have formed a bond that I find appalling,” he said sharply. “Leonardo absorbs Raphael’s fury and calls it loyalty. Raphael leeches Leonardo’s control and calls it trust.”
Mikey flinched. “They’re just trying to take care of each other.”
Splinter turned to him then, gaze sharp. “Taking care of each other is not their purpose.”
There it was again—that word that always twisted in Mikey’s stomach. Weapon. Not son. Not leader. Not even warrior.
“They’re brothers—”
“They are soldiers first never lovers.”
Lovers.
His father saw it too.. at first it was a relief but he continued, his voice was a blade. “I did not train Leonardo to tend to Raphael’s wounds. I trained him to avenge me. To finish what I began. To destroy the Shredder for our future. His attraction to Raphael has only grown stronger since I’ve stepped in. I believe that once the time comes the two of them will die due to this weakness they share for each other.”
The dojo’s stillness cracked. Mikey stared, unsure if he’d misheard. His thoughts coming together. He felt as two pieces, two sides of one coin his father tossed.
One in agreement of his father, what his brothers had wasn’t normal. It was gross. How will his human friends see him knowing the two are the way they are? Will they think he’s just like them? The fear of judgement for something that wasn’t his fault to begin with struck a chord.
The other side however was far more.. passionate. You can’t control who you fall in love with. His brothers are different but they all are and it’s his responsibility to love them unconditionally. They’re not warriors, they’re his family. If they gravitate towards each other like this then it’s the universe singing her song loud and clear. If the two of them become a romantic item Mikey knows they wouldn’t be able to be apart.
“You really think he can’t do that if he was with Raph that way?” he asked, voice small.
Splinter stepped closer. “He won’t do it, Michelangelo. Not while he is tied to Raphael’s needs. He hesitates when he should strike. He falters when he should lead. Because somewhere in his heart, he believes Raphael must be carried, not commanded.”
“That’s not true—”
Splinter’s voice rose—not in volume, but in force. “Do you not see? This dependence is not brotherhood. It is weakness. Leonardo will fall, and with him, so will our family’s last chance at justice.”
The word justice hung in the air, but it didn’t feel righteous. It felt like a curse. Mikey blinked hard, trying to steady his breath.
“I don’t believe this is dependence.” he whispered.
Splinter crouched before him,
“I see.” he said.
Mikey’s heart stumbled. Splinter’s eyes were wide, intense. “You must understand, Michelangelo. If your brother cannot sever the distractions in his heart, he will never be strong enough to face the Shredder. He must be honed. Focused. We cannot afford fragility.”
“But what about love?” Mikey asked, a threadbare plea. “Doesn’t that matter? His happiness?”
Splinter’s smile was thin, nearly pitying. “He is the eldest, soon to take my place. He knows the sacrifices of his title. You do not defeat monsters by love. That is not reality.”
Mikey wanted to argue. He wanted to scream, his father’s tone was gentle but so cruel at once. He loved them. He knows this. He wants the best but for the family but is that worth destroying one of them? Is it worth the life of someone else? How can he be happy knowing that his eldest brother was permanently broken? He couldn’t. That was the answer. He simply couldn’t.
Mikey felt cold. He stared at the floor.
How is making his children miserable the answer? He couldn’t make himself understand.
“Go,” the rat said, turning away. “Speak no more of this to your brothers. It will only further cloud them. Let them suffer the consequences of this weakness. I expect more visits from you in the future. I must be aware of the progress between Leonardo and Raphael.
Mikey nodded stiffly, already standing before he realized he was moving. The door to the dojo closed behind him with a quiet thud, and he leaned against the wall outside, heart racing.
Somewhere in the lair, Leonardo and Raphael’s voices rose again—arguing, murmuring, too soft to parse.
Mikey curled in on himself, arms wrapped tight around his shell. He didn’t know what scared him more: that Splinter was wrong… or that he was right.