Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You ever have the thought, "yeah, this is where I die?"

Fear almost becomes a calming acceptance. You reflect on your life a little, the good and the bad, and sort of just accept that this is the end of the road, whether you like it or not.

But then you have this sudden realization of, "Holy crap, this is NOT how I want to go!"

An ugly thug stands before me, one of my brothers down for the count. I always thought we'd all die together, in some big, final act of heroism. That, or the Shredder would finally pound us into the ground for good. I definitely didn't expect my final moments to be in a dingy old alley, the rest of my family just out of reach, taken out by a Purple Dragon.

But hey, what can you do, am I right?

I think maybe the worst part is that the day started out ordinary. Considering the kinds of adventures my bros and I go on, you'd think it would have began perilous—that I would expect it. But nope!

Honestly, everything started out kinda boring. But I suppose the trouble began when me and Raph got in a fight…

...

"Mikey!" A loud voice thundered through the lair. The moment he heard it, Michelangelo knew he was in trouble.

"You still mad, Raphie?" Mikey asked in a sing-song voice. He sat on the couch flipping through TV channels, his brother on the other side of the lair. Leo was training nearby, and Raph would have to get through him to get to Mikey, so he wasn't worried. Yet.

Thuds echoed through the air as Raph stormed across the floor. Mikey kept his eyes firmly on the pages. His brother was like a bull—or was it a gorilla? One couldn't make eye contact when he was mad.

He certainly smelled like a Gorilla, haha.

"Yeah, I'm still mad!" Raph shouted. "How many times have I told you to keep your junk outta my room? Your living space is filthy enough as it is, I don't need it tainting mine!"

Yours isn't spotless either, Mikey thought. He was going to speak his mind, but Leo spoke first.

"Quit shouting, Raph. I'm trying to focus."

Raph didn't give a response, and Leo didn't do anything else to end his rampage. He stopped just behind the couch. Mikey felt something fall into his lap, startling him.

"Keep your crap in your own room," he snarled with finality. Mikey looked down at the object, which turned out to be a basketball.

He shrugged. "Sorry dude, it's a ball. I don't control where it rolls."

Raph began growling, not unlike an angry dog. It would be a terrifying warning sign, but it usually just amused Mikey.

"Just keep it out of my way," he settled on, before stomping away. Mikey peeked over the side of the couch, and when Raph was out of "violence distance" he added, "sheesh, touchy much?"

"He's been like this for hours," Leo said. "What did you do to piss him off so bad?"

"You know Raph," the youngest said breezily. "Just having a moody day I guess."

In some ways that was true. Mikey hadn't really done anything that evening that was out of the ordinary. The first outburst Raphael had was earlier, when he scolded Mike for leaving a dirty towel on the floor. In his defense, he was using it as a mop. It was going to be the designated mop towel! It meant less laundry, that was thoughtful, right?

He'd just… forgotten to hang it up after he was done sopping up the water from his shower.

The day was made up of little moments like that, tiny aggravation after another. Most of them were aimed at Mikey.

"He is right, you know," Leo continued. "You need to be less careless. No one likes cleaning up after you."

Mikey felt as though he were stabbed with betrayal.

"Hey—I don't mean to make messes," he grumbled.

He meant it. His family would never fully understand, but stuff like that was hard. Sometimes he forgot to clean up after himself, and one of his brothers would find it first. Sometimes cleaning felt like the most agonizing task ever. He tried! Most of the time.

"I just get… I don't know… distracted," he added. Leo hummed in response.

"I know, but I don't blame Raph for being a little frustrated. You're a ninja, you have to focus sometimes, Mike."

Mikey was hit with a flare of indignation. Was Leo questioning his abilities? He was able to focus when it mattered!

Ugh, he hated when his brothers spoke to him like that. Just because he wasn't serious all the time didn't mean he took nothing seriously. He just liked to prioritize having a good time! Was that so wrong?

He opened his mouth to counter, but his father took that moment to walk into the room. Splinter glanced around, taking in the scene before him.

"Excellent form, Leonardo," he said. There was obvious approval in his voice, which diminished when he turned his narrowed gaze onto his youngest son.

"You know, you could take after your brother and spend your time wisely," he said. "Less comic books, more training."

"Ugh," Mikey groaned, rolling his eyes. Leo, ever the teacher's pet.

Suck up, he thought.

"Come on, Master Splinter, I can't spend all of my time training, I gotta relax sometime."

"Yes, well, you've been relaxing all night," the rat replied. "You still have powerful enemies out there, ones that will take any opportunity to crush you. You have to remain sharp."

Mikey pictured the baddies that his father was referring to—Hun, Stockman, the Shredder… but he fought them all the time, and he hadn't died yet! Besides, a single veg day wasn't going to magically zap the butt-kicking skills out of him!

Yeah, he hadn't trained yet, but it was one of the nice, quiet nights where the couch was calling to him. Their enemies had to take rest days too, right? What was the chance that they'd break through the walls of the lair on a warm, peaceful afternoon?

Mikey began imagining the Shredder taking a lazy day. Did he have a bed to get all cozy in? What did the Shredder even do to relax? Did he ever relax?

He shuddered at the thought. It felt wrong.

"Come on, Master Splinter," he begged. "One little day off never hurt anybody!"

Splinter glared at him so fiercely he thought he might fall off the couch. Uh oh, when Splinter looks at you like that, the answer's final.

"Fine," he groaned. Then, an idea popped into his head. "But make Raph train too!" he added. "He's been pissy all day, it'll help him get his anger out."

Mikey grinned a little, and Leo shot him a look. Splinter hummed, and replied, "good idea, I'll go get him."

"You really think that's a good idea?" Leo asked once their father was out of earshot. "Raph's mad at you specifically, and you want to train with him?"

"Psh, I can handle Raph," Mikey said as he cracked his knuckles. "He's mad all of the time. Besides, if I'm being forced to spend this glorious Sunday training, then so is he!"

Leo shot him another look—a strange one. Mikey felt a hot sort of embarrassment prickling beneath his skin. He hated when the others looked at him like that, like there was some secret they weren't telling him. It was as if they thought he wouldn't understand.

It was almost as if a darkness billowed in the room when Raph stomped in. Mikey could tell he was walking over before he saw him. When he did get a glance, he noticed how hunched Raph's shoulders were. He obviously wasn't happy, but Mikey couldn't get much of a read on him besides that. If he was lucky, he'd had a chance to calm down.

Mikey hopped over the back of the couch, meeting his family by the training gear where Leo stood. Raph sort of huffed as he did, but didn't really say much else. Mikey shot him a crooked grin, which was met with a frown.

"I will get Donatello," Splinter said. "Start with some warm ups, boys."

Mikey watched as he left the room. For a brief moment, he was tempted to hop back onto the couch, but he knew that Splinter would destroy him if he tried it. With frustration heavy in his heart, Mikey began some stretches.

Leo continued his katas, unbothered, while a silence settled over the lair. Mikey hated silence. He gave a quick glance at Raph, who was doing his own stretches. His face was set into a stoic, stony expression. There was no way to see what was inside that deep, macho persona.

Mikey decided to investigate.

"Hey, Raph," he began. The other looked up, back leg still in hand. "Wanna spar?"

"Fine," he replied, glancing at Mike with a suspicious expression. "But I won't go easy on you."

"It's a warm up, Raph," Leo warned.

"Psh, It'll be fine," Mikey replied with a laugh. Raph rolled his eyes.

The turtles locked eyes, standing a small distance from each other. Raph's eyes burned with a sort of intensity, but Mikey still couldn't read what was behind them. He wasn't sure what his brother was thinking—was he mad? Was he about to take his anger out in their fight? He took a small step closer.

Raphael lunged. Mikey side-stepped, missing the jab.

"Ha!" he laughed. "Missed!"

Raph growled, as he often did when fighting. He swiped a leg out to kick at Mikey's but he hopped over it with ease. Raph was so predictable!

"Oh, so close!"

A fiery glare was turned in his direction. "Can't you take this seriously?" Raph snarled.

"Me, serious?" Mikey countered. "Do you even know who you're speaking to?"

Raph was getting oddly flared up over Mike's goofy way of fighting. Honestly, it wasn't the first time. He had a habit of making jokes, and Raph hated being the target of one. It was sort of their dynamic. Still, Mikey imagined that his brother's previous frustrations were adding to his current temper.

He ducked under a flying fist and knocked Raph square in the carapace with his own. It wouldn't hurt, which was the point. This was a warm-up after all, it was only meant to get the blood pumping!

"I thought you were going easy!" he continued to tease. The tails of his mask flew through the air as Raph whipped around and stared him down.

"I'll show you easy," he grumbled, which Mikey barely had time to register before his brother practically threw himself at him.

"Woah!" he exclaimed as he dodged, but just barely. Raph almost resembled a wild bear, charging forward with his arms outstretched. He'd put his whole weight into it, falling to the floor when he'd missed.

Mikey snickered at the scene in front of him. Raph looked so silly, splayed out on the floor after his attempt. "This means I win, right?""

A hand darted out and grabbed his foot. Mikey screamed as he was pulled down as well.

"Not on your life!" Raph snarled, tackling him.

"Hey—ouch, this isn't fair!" Mikey cried out, trying to push the weight off of him. Geez, was Raph always so heavy? He now sat on his younger brother's shell, holding him down.

"Tough. When is combat ever fair?" he asked, pressing his weight down further. Mikey scrambling to get a hold on Raph to throw him off, or fight back in any way. He was completely stuck.

"Uh, training! Training is fair!" Mikey replied. He kicked out his legs, but his feet wouldn't connect with any part of Raph.

"Do you yield?" Raph asked. Was there a smugness to his voice?

There was no way Mikey was going to surrender, not now. He wouldn't give Raph the satisfaction. He was going to fight fire with fire, dirty with dirty.

He whipped his head back and sunk his teeth into the first limb he could reach.

"OUCH!" Raph shouted. "Did you just BITE me? You little—"

An arm snaked around Mike's neck. It squeezed hard enough to keep him in a choke hold, but not hard enough to actually strangle him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mikey began a retort. "Was that unfair?"

Raph growled, before tightening his grip, his victim letting out a tiny squawk.

"Say it! Yield!" He barked by Mikey's ear.

"Raph," Leo warned from behind them. "Chill out."

He ignored his brother, all focus turned towards Michelangelo. "Yield!"

"Never!"

Raph held him tighter, overpowering him. Mikey tried elbowing him in his carapace.

"Say it!"

"I'd rather die!"

"Boys!"

The two stopped dead in their tracks. They turned to the source of the voice—Master Splinter, approaching with Donnie in tow.

The rat narrowed his eyes. "What is going on?"

Almost instantly, Raph and Mikey began spewing out words. Both began explaining their side of the story, but it was almost incomprehensible over the other's. Mikey desperately tried to explain the total truth—after all, he was the one in the right, yeah?

"Raphael, Michelangelo!" Their father's voice rose above the cacophony. The two were silenced once more. "I told you to warm up, what is the meaning of such wrestling?"

"Exactly!" Mikey spoke up. "All I did was challenge Raph to a light spar, he's the one who started going crazy!"

"Me?" Raph gasped. "You were the one who was goofing around and making a big joke out of it!"

"Didn't mean you had to put me in a choke hold!"

"You were fine—"

"Boys!" Splinter yelled. He rarely raised his voice in such a way. Mikey's heart jumped. "That is enough!"

The whole room was stunned into silence for a long moment. Finally, Splinter sighed.

"It seems you two are both heated. Perhaps it would be best if you had time to cool off before training further," he said, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Fine," Raph stated, dropping his brother. Mikey rubbed the part of his throat where Raph's arm had held him. Standing up, Raph began heading back to his own room.

"Wait," Splinter stopped him in his tracks. "I think a change from the scenery of the lair will do you both some good."

He pointed a slender hand towards the entrance of the lair. Two sets of eyes followed it.

"Go, come back when you're ready to take this seriously," Splinter said. "Maybe you can make up while you're out."

Harsh, Mikey thought. Being grounded was bad, but this was straight up banishment! Leo and Donnie's eyes were as wide as saucers as they watched the scene unfold. It sent waves of embarrassment through him.

"Hey, I've been needing a spare flathead screwdriver," Donnie said. "A shorter one. You guys could grab one while you're out!"

Splinter nodded. "Good idea, be productive."

Raph muttered something under his breath, fists balled at his sides. He turned and stormed out of the room, shoulders hunched. With a heavy sigh, Mikey turned and followed him. He caught a few snickers from behind, as well as an "ouch" from Don.

The voice of Splinter instructing his last two sons faded as Mike walked from the lair to the sewer tunnels. Quiet thuds against the cobblestone filled the air. Otherwise, it was silent.

Mikey hated the silence.

"Soo, Raph, you're not really that mad, are you?" He asked. It was met with a growl.

Okay, I guess I'll take that as a yes, Mikey thought, bummed. To be honest, a lot of his own frustration was zapped when he was exiled from the lair. Of course, Raph wasn't the ray of sunshine that he was.

After a short while of wandering, Raph stopped. Mikey almost ran into him.

"Hey, what's—"

Then he noticed the manhole cover above them.

Oh, right, they were going topside. They couldn't exactly find Donnie's doohickey in the sewers. The idea of heading to the surface sent a wave of relief through Mikey. It would be nice to feel the cool air, and get away from the suffocatingly small size of the tunnels. Maybe being outside would help Raph cool down as well.

"Topside, woo! That's always fun, right?"

Raph ignored him, climbing up the ladder leading to the surface.

The manhole they'd exited was nestled beneath a building, sheltering the turtles from the rest of the world. Not that there was anyone out and about that they would need to hide from. It was the dead of night, and the roads were empty.

Sometimes, it felt so strange being the only thing awake. It had been his whole life, but then Mikey had gotten a taste of a world outside of it. A world full of people. They would come home from work, or get ready for the parties that evening would surely bring. They went to the store, on family outings.

But that was all during the day.

He used to dream about what it would be like to join them—to live a normal life on the surface. After danger, like The Shredder, had consumed his whole existence, he'd found himself daydreaming less. There were other things to focus on. Besides, he was basically a superhero, which was what he'd dreamed of more than being an average person.

He had to live a dangerous, isolated life, because all superheros did. Right? It was a more Mikey lifestyle. It was okay that he didn't get to meet many people, or go to raging events, because he saved people.

Though sometimes, when he got a glimpse of normal human life, he wondered wistfully what it must be like.

But now Raph was climbing his way to the roof, leaving his little brother in the dust. With a start, Mikey hopped onto the fire escape to follow him.

The cement of the roof was cool in the late night moonlight. Mikey light shivered as it met his scales.

When he pulled himself over the edge, he noticed that Raph was gone. His heart jumped in his chest. How had he lost him already? He was right behind him.

He wandered across the flat top, feeling slightly lost. He could handle himself if he got separated, no problem… he just didn't want to deal with that. That's all.

Mikey peeked over the roof at the world bellow. It was busy and chaotic compared to the empty rooftops. Despite that, Raph would still stick out like a sore thumb. Had he hopped into the next alley? Onto another building? He stood up straight, eyes scanning the scenery nearby.

Suddenly, a hand grasped the edge of Mikey's shell, and he felt himself tossed across the roof. He yelped, whipping around to get a glance at his attacker.

"Shush! It's me, knucklehead," a familiar voice said. Mikey looked at the turtle standing above him. The two of them now stood in the shade of the giant cooling unit that Mikey had apparently missed.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled in response.

"Why are you standing around all dumb like that? What if one of our enemies were to spot you?!" Raph scolded. He looked like a big, hulking angry bull standing over Mikey the way he was.

"I dunno," Mikey muttered. He couldn't really think of any explanation that would would satisfy his brother.

Jeez, paranoid much?

"Ugh," Raph grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is not helping me 'cool off,' you know."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Raph seethed. "Don't test me, twerp, or I will leave your sorry self behind."

"But Master Splinter said we need to go together," Mikey grinned, some malice in his voice.

Growling once again, Raph let go of Mikey's shell. He landed on the concrete with an "oof."

"Then quit being stupid," he said with finality, hopping to another rooftop then crouching once more. Mike glared daggers at him, before begrudgingly following.

The two hopped from rooftop to rooftop in silence, just as they would if it was a normal patrol. But there was a stifling atmosphere that was thick enough to cut with a knife. It made things increasingly… uncomfortable.

The pair was quickly approaching their destination. It wasn't too far of a trip, thankfully. Donnie did go at least once a week. While he sometimes dragged his brothers to the dump to search, he often went to this location alone. Honestly, Mikey probably wouldn't have been able to find it if Raph wasn't leading the way.

It was the dumpster of a technology repair shop. Apparently, they threw out a lot of junk, like broken tools and batteries. As they say, one man's trash!

The brother's crouched, heels digging into the cool roof. Peering over the edge, Mikey saw that the alley was entirely empty. The store would have closed hours ago, removing the risk of digging around. It would be an easy mission, maybe that was why Splinter had encouraged it. They would be able to cool down.

"Stay here," Raph hissed. "I'll go grab it real quick."

"What?!" Mikey cried. "Why?"

"Because if I send you to look for it, you'll probably take forever. I bet you don't even remember what we're looking for."

Mike opened his mouth to argue, but begrudgingly, his brother had a point. He absolutely had no idea what Donnie wanted them to fetch. He'd forgotten like, ten minutes after he'd been told.

"Yeah, thought not," Raph said rolling his eyes. "Just keep watch, you can do that, right?"

Glaring back fiercely, Mikey replied, "Duh."

Of course he could. Why was his brother doubting him? He's kept watch before… right? Sure, he usually preferred to be in the action, or was delegated to the distraction (he was GREAT at that) but he could focus, too.

"Then do it," Raph poked him square in the chest, and hopped down into the alley below.

Mikey crossed his arms and sat. Stupid Raph. Why was he being such a jerk?

He rested his head onto one of his hands, gaze wandering across the world below. The only noise was the sound of Raph rustling through the trash. Mikey both felt relief, and a lot of disappointment. What was the point of being a look-out if there was no one to look out for!

It wasn't long before he began to feel bored. Bored, bored, bored. If Mikey wanted to feel bored, he'd have stayed at the lair!

…Not that he'd really had much of a choice in the matter.

Still, the seconds began to feel like hours. It was torture. Mikey was so desperate for entertainment that when the sound of a vehicle creeping along the road hit his ears, his head snapped to it. It was a large van that was uncomfortably large and colorless, with dark tinted windows. It rolled down the road at an uncomfortably slow pace, before pulling to a stop in front of a building with dark bricks and cracks in the windows.

Huh, that's mildly interesting, Mikey thought. Just as a figure opened the passenger side door, he ducked behind the ledge.

The figure was dressed in copious amounts of black—certainly wasn't helping Mikey's suspicion. He glanced around warily, popping the collar of his shirt and walking into the building.

Despite his "disguise," Mikey couldn't help but feel as though he recognized the figure. Like he'd taken in a quick glance of him before. If the man was a baddie like he was beginning to fear, then he may have fought him before. Uncertainty was starting to form deep in Mikey's gut.

He glanced at his brother below, who was currently scrutinizing some metal thing. Mikey's gaze quickly flickered from the van to Raph. There wasn't really anything else to watch out for… right? He could go take a look at the suspicious situation across the street, and be back before Raph could even blink!

Making up his mind, Mike climbed down the building. He crept across the road as quickly as he could manage without making a sound, avoiding the windows of the van. He had no idea who (if anyone) was still in there. He decided to climb the window sills of a store a few addresses down. From there, he could watch whatever figures entered or exited the creepy little shop.

He settled himself into a crouch on the thin ledge, eyes focused onto his targets. And for a long moment he saw… nothing. No one left the van or the building. He could almost hear crickets. The more time passed, the more tempted Mikey became to give up and head back before Raph noticed he was gone.

But then he saw something. The front door twitched open—just a creak. A long nose and dark, sunglass-covered eyes peaked from the slit. Mikey pressed himself as close to the window as he could, just to be safe. After another breath, the door pushed open fully, and the man stepped out into the night. Held tightly in his fist was a briefcase.

Oh snap, Mikey thought. Had his suspicions been right? Was there something totally dangerous and illegal inside? And who could the mysterious buyer be?

I should get Raph, he decided. If it really was bad guy, his brother would want to smash skulls, and Mikey would need the back up. He just hoped his brother hadn't finished the task yet.

Hopping from the windowsill and grabbing the ledge above him, Mikey hoisted himself onto the roof. He would have to get back across the street, he—

He almost ran head first into a fuming turtle.

"AH!" Mikey squawked, throwing out his arms to balance himself. His heart stopped as he almost fell off the roof.

"What the hell are you doing?" Raph hissed. He gripped Mikey by a shoulder and pulled him close, crinkled nose inches from his own. "Are you trying to piss me off? Why are you always goofing around?"

"W-wait, I'm not!" Mikey defended. "There's—"

His arm wavered as he tried to point to the van below. In the corner of his eye, the dark-clad man froze, glancing around.

Uh oh, he'd heard them, hadn't he?

"There's what?!" Raph said, loud enough that the man had been spooked. He hopped back inside the passenger side of the van.

"UGH, Raph!" Mikey shouted. "Look! There was some kind of illegal looking deal happening!" he gestured to the vehicle. "And now they're getting away!"

He wrestled himself free of his brother's grasp, just in time to witness the back doors of the van being thrown open. Like a horde of baby spiders hatching from an egg sack, a group of thugs poured onto the road.

Mikey recognized them instantly.

"Purple Dragons!" He cried out, slapping his hands over his mouth. He realized too late the mistake he'd made. Multiple heads snapped towards the air, eyes burrowing into the turtles.

"Shell," Mikey mumbled. He felt a smack to back of his head.

"Nice going, Knucklehead!" Raph scolded him. But then a small smile—the first one of the day—formed on his face. "Well, I think I just found how I'm gonna cool off. Busting Purple Dragon heads!"

And with that, he launched himself at the ground below.

"Raph, wait!" Mikey called out, but he was too late. His brother had already began fighting the people below. He hopped down to join the brawl.

"It's those damn turtle freaks!" One of the Dragons shouted, pointed a finger at Michelangelo. He flashed a lop-sided grin.

"Expecting someone else?" He asked. The man charged at him, but was met with a palm to the face. His nose crunched at the impact.

"Yowch!" The man shrieked, clutching at his face. "Purple Dragons, get 'em!" He yelled from beneath his hand.

Any hesitation in the crowd was instantly lost. The bozo with the smashed nose must be their leader, or some kind of high-ranking goon somewhere under Dragon-Face. The thugs began to advance on the turtles.

Mikey's gaze scanned the swarm. While it may have seemed overwhelming at first, the turtles had fought ten times the amount of foot ninja in a single battle. They were only dealing with the Purple Dragons, this would be a breeze.

"Gonna be a snooze fest, huh Raph?" he cracked, but his words were lost on the turtle, who'd already thrown himself at the nearest Dragon.

Great, Mikey thought. Guess that meant he was probably still mad.

Whatever, maybe punching some Purple Dorks will chill him out.

And with that thought, he turned his attention to a lady running at him. He blocked her punch, and swept her legs out from under her.

"Too easy," he laughed, and ducked as he heard approaching footsteps behind him. The man that had been attempting a sneak attack flew over his shoulders and landed on the woman.

Two Dragons taken out in an instant.

For awhile, the fight was going just as easily as it always did, even without Leo and Donnie. Mikey had been able to take out at least three more people, some knocked unconscious. A couple were still fighting, but with bruises and blood to signify their beatings. The turtle felt a rush—and he was sure his brother did too, probably more so. Maybe he would finally chill out.

But all of a sudden, the sound of an engine starting caught Mikey's attention. His head shot up just in time to see the van begin to pull away.

"Raph, the van!" He called out. But when he turned to look, he saw his brother locked in to the fight. Mikey's gaze was caught between the two sights.

Shit! Mikey thought with frustration. His heart began to pound in his ears as panic set in. They couldn't let the van get away—who knew what was in that briefcase? It surely meant bad news in the hands of the Purple Dragons.

He didn't need a second thought. Breaking into a sprint, he began to chase after the vehicle. His own name soared faintly through the air as it was called out.

If the van got up to a certain speed, there was no way that Mikey would have been able to keep up. That was why he leapt past the open doors and into the back, ignoring all logic, and held on as tightly as he could. His name was cried out once again, and he turned to see his brother chasing after the vehicle, fighting his way through thugs.

They were speeding up, making their way over the limit. Mikey dug his feet into the floor and grit his teeth, leaning heavily against the wall. The back doors were still swinging open wildly. The van began to swerve—crap, they were trying to throw him out!

It was entirely empty outside of the two front seats. Throwing his arms out for balance, Mikey caught himself on the back of one.

The driver muttered some confused words, before noticing his passenger standing closely behind him. He gasped as Mikey leaned over and waved at him.

"Excuse me, I think this is my stop," he quipped as he pushed his foot past the seat and pressed it on the break. The van came to a screeching halt, the men crying out in shock.

"Mikey!" Raph called out for a third time as he hopped into the van.

"Hey Raph, nice of you to join us," he replied casually. Hands resting on his hips, a grin took over his face. He was smug, he couldn't lie, that he'd been the one to take charge.

Raph's eyes narrowed. "What are—" he began, but his gaze slowly tore upwards. Mikey didn't understand what he was looking at. He tried to turn to see what was behind him.

And time felt like it had slowed to a halt when Raph threw him to the side. Mikey hit the wall of the van with a clang. His mouth opened to shout, but no words ever left. It hung open in shock as he watched what happened next.

Raph, standing in his place, took the brunt of the attack from a Purple Dragon. It was the one dressed in black who'd retrieved the briefcase. In his hand was a needle and syringe, which was slammed into Raph's arm like a dart.

"RAPH!" Mikey cried out in horror. It was as if the name was wretched from his throat. He stumbled to his feet, reaching for his brother.

A sight in the corner of his vision caught his attention. He turned just in time to see the back doors of the van being slammed close, a handful of the Purple Dragons hopping inside. The turtles were swarmed.

Then the van started to drive off again.

Chapter Text

Raph lurched, clutching his bicep with a hiss. Mikey tried to push towards Raph, but the Purple Dragons were pressing in. Four goons gripped the turtles, holding them down.

"What did you inject him with?!" Mikey demanded. The man's face turned slightly, dark sunglasses meeting pale, horrified eyes.

"A drug," he said. His voice was quiet, but still audible. "It's some experimental thing, honestly not entirely sure what it does. We're just the errand boys."

"Hun wants it," one of the men that held Mikey said, his gruff voice right by his ear.

"Speaking of Hun," the quiet man replied. His voice was calm and smooth, like some kind of pudding dessert. It was hard to detect exactly what he was feeling. "I imagine he'll be interested in dealing with you personally."

The pounding of his heart thundered in Mikey's ears. Shit, this was bad. Hun wasn't exactly a big fan of theirs. What would he do? Would he hand the turtles over to Shredder to be destroyed, or would he crush them personally? Would their deaths be quick or slow and painful? He had a feeling he knew how this would play out, and it sent his heart sinking into his belly.

Of course, that was only if Raph made it that far. He glanced over to his brother, who wriggled in the Dragons' grasp. What was in that vial? What sort of horrible junk was flowing through his veins? What sort of things would it do to him? Was it a deadly drug meant to hurt an enemy? Or was it some sort of crazy party drug?

If Hun wanted it, then it was probably the former. Mike swallowed in fear.

He had to get Raph home to Splinter.

But first, they had to get out of this van.

There must have been some kind of bump on the road, as the car was thrown into the air. For a short moment, the grips on his arm loosened.

And that's when he got an idea.

Mikey had to do what he did best. Be an obnoxious distraction.

"So," he began. All eyes turned towards him. "This uh, mysterious drug you just injected my brother with, I assume you're getting it for Hun? Since you don't know what it does."

No one spoke, though Mikey could see the driver's mouth form a tight line in the mirror.

"Or maybe it's for someone else? This has Stockman written all over it—or even The Shredder? Ha, I bet he'd be real pissed if something happened to it…"

Everyone in the van began to glare at Mikey, including the driver. Hell, even Raph's eyes were narrowed in confusion.

"Shut up," the driver finally grit out. It was working.

"Hey, chillax man," Mikey continued. "I just wanted to make some light conversation, spice up the drive a little. Plus, this might be some of my last moments, and I'm not really the type to go quietly, you know? Not really the strong silent kind of turtle."

Oh, he was really getting on their nerves now. Some of the thugs started covering their ears, others sent withering glances his way. Raph's head was tilted with confusion, and he mouthed something silently. It looked to be, "what are you doing?" if Mikey had to guess. He turned his expression as serious as he could muster, and glanced towards the van doors in a frenzy.

Masked brows knit together as Raph read his brother's gesture. Pale eyes darted to the location of Mikey's glance, and understanding finally washed over his face. He got what his brother was putting down.

"Can you please shut him up?!" The driver snarled, glaring at one of the men holding Mikey.

The man bit back, "what do you want me to do?!"

"I don't know, gag him or something!" He retorted, the driver was practically yelling at this point. "I just can't take his annoying voice anymore."

"Hey!—" Mikey began in offense, but his retort was cut off by a rough hand covering his mouth. His words were turned into a muffled noise.

Rude! he thought. But he wasn't done yet. This wasn't going to stop him.

He pushed his tongue out of his mouth and licked the man's dirty hand.

"Ew!" The Dragon cried, ripping his arm away from Mikey and wiping it on his shirt. In his distracted state, his grip loosened on the the turtle's arm.

It was time to strike.

He slammed his elbow into the stomach of the Dragon on his other side. The man grunted, letting go of the turtle when he doubled over. All eyes were on Mikey now, shock settling over the car for a brief moment. But then, Raph twisted out of the grips of his own attackers. One of the men went flying into the other as the turtle sent a powerful kick into his side.

"What the—" the driver began, turning around. "What's going on back there—?!"

The van began to swerve as he took his eyes off the road. The Purple Dragons tumbled to one side of the vehicle, while the turtles fought the momentum to stay on their feet.

"Get control of the damn car!" one of the dragons shouted.

"Get control of those damn turtles!" he retorted.

Hands reached for every part of Mikey. He hopped out of the way and said, "hey, paws off!"

He glanced at Raph in the corner of his eye. So far, he seemed to be holding up alright, but Mikey didn't think he should be fighting. They had to get out as soon as possible.

So he lunged towards the back doors, taking his eyes off of his opponents. He'd gotten a hold of the handle, door flying open, when he felt something constrict around his ankle. He was sent falling towards the floor with a shout.

His chin hit the plastic ground with a thud. Pain shot through his face, leaving him dazed. It was only for a moment, but a moment was enough time for his assailant to crawl up his torso. Strong legs were wrapped around his middle, holding him into place.

"Yikes!" Mikey cried as he saw a raised fist in the corner of his eye. He wrenched his eyes closed, waiting for pain to be delivered.

But before the Dragon could get a blow in, Raph had thrown him off of his brother. Gripping his arms around Mike, he threw the both of them out the open door. Next thing he knew, they were tumbling in a heap on the road.

Not far from where they'd been dropped, a screech sounded as the breaks were slammed. There wasn't any time for him to lick his wounds or complain, they had to hide—and fast.

"This way!" Raph cried, pulling his brother up by the arm and dashing into the nearest alley. The whole thing was a blur to Mikey as Raph glanced around in a frenzy. He must have spotted what he was looking for, as not even a second passed before Mikey was once again tugged by the bicep. This time, they were headed up towards a fire escape.

He was beginning to feel a little manhandled as his brother pushed him against the wall. Raph crouched beside him, nestled as far into the dark as he could. "Sh," he hissed. Silence took over the air. It was only broken by the sound of footsteps.

"Where are they?" A lady shouted down the alley. There must have been multiple purple dragons with her, based on the many pairs of feet that hit the concrete.

"I don't know, must've ran off," a man finally said. "Probably went to hide in the sewers."

"Shit!" The woman from before shouted. There was a loud clang, probably from a kick to the dumpster.

"Whatever, just leave 'em," someone else replied. "We have what we need."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," she grumbled with a huff. Angry mutters faded off into the distance, leaving more silence in their wake.

The turtles held their breath for a minute longer. They had to be sure that the Purple Dragons were really gone. Finally, Mikey let out a breathless laugh.

"Ha, take that!" he cheered pumping a fist into the air. "We totally pummeled those jerks!"

After the adrenaline had melted away, however, he was left with disappointment. He thought about what they'd said. They'd gotten what they really wanted—a drug that was potentially super dangerous.

"I only wish we'd gotten that briefcase though," he sighed.

"heh," Raph chuckled, holding up the object of his brother's frustration. "You mean this?"

Mikey couldn't believe it. How, when—and why hadn't he noticed it before? He supposed he was distracted in the rush. Hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth!

"Dude, I can't you believe you nabbed it!" he laughed, punching the other's shoulder. "You're the man, Raph!"

The other turtle huffed a laugh, and leaned against the wall. "Yeah I—"

But his voice cut off mid sentence. He let let out a choked sound, as though an invisible hand had begun to strangle him.

"Raph?" Mikey exclaimed, and his heart stopped. His brother doubled over, one hand on his chest and the other on his head.

"Raph?!"

He sucked in through his teeth. His face was painted in pain.

"I'm… I'm fine," he finally grit out. But he obviously was not, even Mikey could tell.

"It's the injection, isn't it?" he drew out, horrified.

Shit, this was bad. The drug was already taking affect. What all was it going to do to Raph's body? What was it already doing?

They had to get home, now. Mikey glanced around the alley, then hopped down and peeked around the corner. He searched for any nearby manholes, but there weren't any in sight. Shoot, what street were they on?

The more he glanced around, the more he realized how unfamiliar the location was. They were on a pretty quiet and secluded road, not one he remembered. Oh no.

They had to get home, but where was home?

Crap.

Crap.

The anxiety he felt was welling up inside like a bathtub that had been left running. Mikey threw his head into his hands. His thoughts ran wild, and he was unable to stop them.

Until a loud thump interrupted it.

When he whipped around, Mikey was met with the image of a Raph-shaped lump on the ground. He must have attempted to hop off the fire escape.

"Raph!" he cried, rushing over to his brother. The turtle sat up slowly, a dazed look in his eyes.

"Ugh," he groaned. "I'm alright, just… a little dizzy."

Mikey wrapped an arm around his shoulders, helping him to his feet. "Shoot man, that's not good."

"You think?" The other grunted, hissing once again. "Ugh, just—call Donnie."

Oh.

Oh, duh.

He wanted to slap himself. Of COURSE Mikey should call Don. How had he not thought of that until now?

His hand flew down to his belt, but all he was met with was an empty space. Before his heart could fully sink, he felt all around himself, but it wasn't like he had pockets to check.

"Urk," Mikey exclaimed, his palm flying to his face. "I forgot it at home."

Raph growled deep in his throat. "Damn it Mikey—" he grunted.

"Give me yours," the other retorted, before he allowed himself to get frustrated.

A dark, shaky hand reached slowly for the side of his own belt. But apparently, Raph was also meant with empty space, as he groaned.

"What?"

"Don't have mine either," he slurred.

"What?!"

"Dunno," Raph shrugged sluggishly. "Must'a dropped it or… something."

Mikey once again slapped his forehead. Great, of course the two reckless, thoughtless brothers were the ones stranded.

He felt his own irritation building like bile in his throat. He had to take a deep breath, before he starting acting Raph.

What was that technique that Master Splinter taught him? It was hard to remember in the heat of the moment. Was it… in for four seconds, out for six? Or was it another four? Was he supposed to hold it?

Whatever, he didn't have time to remember. He simply took as big of breaths as his lungs would allow, and steadied his tense body until he relaxed.

Okay, they could do this. They just had to make it to the sewers, right? Mikey knew the sewers.

"Alright," he began. "We'll just have to keep going. Find the nearest manhole."

"Mm," Raph nodded slowly.

Mikey's muscles relaxed, all of his frustration melting away. "How you holding up, bro?" he asked, voice gentle.

"…Fine," Raph muttered. "Let's just get going. Where are we?"

"Uhh," Mikey rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "About that, I kinda have no idea."

Raph shot him a scornful look, and he almost resembled his usual self. "You've lived in New York your whole life, and you're lost?"

Raising his hands defensively, Mike shot back, "okay Mr. Smart Guy, you tell me where we are."

Raph stumbled across the alley feebly. He almost resembled a sickly child, it hurt to watch. Mikey sort of regret what he'd said.

His brother leaned against the wall, head tilted to peer beyond their hiding spot. After a moment, he said, "I have no idea where we are."

Mikey crossed his arms and frowned.

"Don't look at me that way," Raph grumbled. "I'm not feeling good…"

He sighed. That was a good point. He really hoped that this wouldn't be a frequent excuse.

"Well… we'll just have to walk," Mikey said. "Pick a direction and walk until we know where we are!"

Raph nodded. "I guess we'll have to."

So walk they did. Mikey had expected it be easy. After all, he was used to racing from street to street with his brothers on patrol. The turtles could clear half of New York no sweat. They were ninjas, after all! They were five feet of pure, trained muscle each. Travel wasn't a problem for them.

But that was when they were all in good health, not when one of them was drugged and ill. The pair couldn't just climb to the roof tops and run from there—Raph was too weak.

Mikey held Raph's torso as he rested the other's arm on his shoulders. His brother resisted a little at first, but it didn't last long. Inevitably, he had to lean heavily on Mikey.

Man, he was heavy. And because of that, their pace was slow. It was like an agonizing caterpillar crawl of a pace.

They'd picked a direction and started down it, which had been west. At the very least, Mikey knew that was the direction they'd come from. He figured they'd walk until they found somewhere he recognized, or a way into the sewers.

He wanted to make quippy remarks about the heavy turtle that leaned so hard against him, but then Raph would do something that made his heart stop. Either he'd gasp like he'd forgotten how to breathe, or make some kind of quiet, pained noise. Then Mikey would forget all about his jokes.

He was worried, which clashed with his careless attitude. But he tried not to let the feeling overtake him. He tried to focus on the positives: Raph was awake, he could walk. He didn't seen to be dying, at least not currently. They would get home, and he'd be alright. His brothers were always alright.

Despite being strong and fit, Mikey couldn't walk like that forever. The more steps they took, the heavier Raph felt. Maybe he was weaker, too. Mikey wasn't sure if he was imagining it.

He kept stealing glances at the other from the corner of his eye. But he must not have been as stealthy as he thought.

"Quit looking at me like that," Raph muttered. "I'm fine."

Mikey quickly averted his gaze.

They had to take a few breaks. Raphael would grumble at the idea, but would eventually give in. Mikey set his body down, sitting on the curb.

"We're stopping?" Raph huffed beneath his breath.

"Yeah," Mikey said, taking a deep gasp. "I've been carrying you for like, thirty minutes man, let me catch a break."

Rap grumbled, but didn't continue to argue. His face shifted, forming a tight line. He quickly averted his gaze.

"…right."

They sat in quiet for a moment.

"So, where are we?" Raph asked.

Mikey turned to him. "You can't tell?"

The other placed a hand on his head, squinting at the world around him. "It's all… kinda, dizzy…"

"Oh—" Mikey replied, his brother's words tugging on his heartstrings. "Well, we've walked a few blocks—"

"A few?"

"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe like… five?"

Raph groaned, head falling back against his shoulders. Mikey was worried that he might collapse. "That's it? Shit, this is gonna take all night!"

Mikey's frown deepened. He sighed a little, before mustering up as much of a smile as he could. "We just have to find the nearest manhole, and we'll be safe, right?"

"Mm," Raph hummed, sounding doubtful. Mikey felt a flare of indignation. Gee, did he have to be such a downer all of the time?

"Let's get back to it," he said after a pause. Raph talked less when they were walking—though it was probably because he was concentrated on staying upright.

"Good idea."

The walked probably another block, shoulder to shoulder, when they finally found a manhole. It was set on the road next to the sidewalk. While the turtles had been trying to stick under the shade of cover until then, Mikey pulled them out into the street excitedly at the sight.

Finally, he thought with relief. He would surely be able to find the way home once they got underground. Maybe if they were lucky, they'd stumble across one of their brothers or Master Splinter.

"What?" Raph drawled as he was tugged into the open.

"Found a manhole, Raphie!" Mikey cheered. His brother hummed in response.

The turtles stopped in front of the cover. Raph had been set down on the curb so that his brother could use both of his hands to move the big piece of metal.

He'd just began to shuffle it out of place when something whizzed by his ear.

"Woah!" Mikey cried out, jumping back. His head whipped around wildly for the source.

Cackles filled the air.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the green freaks," an annoying voice spoke. That was when Mikey saw them—a small group of Purple Dragons that stepped out from an alley across the street.

Mikey's heart sank into his stomach.

"Shit, what's happening?" Raph asked. His eyes were half-closed, and he looked to be reeling.

"Alright turtles, here's how this is gonna go down," one of the Dragons said. They began to circle the two like vultures. "You're gonna hand that briefcase over, and maybe we'll be gentle when we're pounding you."

Mikey's eyes jumped to the case being held loosely in Raph's grip. It had faded into the background, he'd almost forgotten about it.

Dang it. Of course they'd come back for it. They were totally screwed.

He stood in a defensive stance, reaching for the nunchaku on his belt. There was no way they were going to hand some dangerous substance back to the Purple Dragons. They'd have to fight the group off, but considering Raph's condition, Mikey wasn't sure if it was possible.

He swallowed his fear, trying to mask it in a facade of confidence.

"You want it? Come and get it!" Mikey taunted, twirling his nunchaku.

A smirk twitched at the edges of the man's mouth. He glanced at something beside Mikey. "Shouldn't be too hard," he said. "Looks like your buddy is down for the count."

With a sickening sense of horror, he turned to his brother. Raph was struggling to stand, wobbling the entire way.

With an angry cry, Mikey launched himself into the group of Purple Dragons.

Chapter Text

There were only about five thugs that Mikey would have to knock down. No big deal, right? He could wipe out twice that many!

He pushed down any anxiety that threatened to rise to the surface. Nothing was going to happen, they were both going to be fine.

He kicked one dude out of his way while swinging his weapon at another with a hard whack. The first man was flung hard against the wall of the nearest building, grunting as he collided with the bricks.

One down, four to go.

The single chick in the group had tried to sneak up on Mikey's side. He whirled around and punched her as hard as he could. He heard her nose crunch, and winced slightly. Oof, that was going to leave a mark! But at least she was definitely out of commission.

Two down, three to go.

He felt a prickling unease on the back of his neck. He swung his leg back around to slam into the dude he'd hit before. He went flying and landed next to the first man.

Three down, two to…

Wait.

One. There was one man in front of Mikey.

He turned as quickly as he realized, ignoring the last Dragon in front of him. His eyes locked onto a terrifying sight.

Raph was struggling to get the dude off of him. He was pinned to the ground, the thug holding him in place as he tried to grab the case that was held out of his reach. Raph was barking as many swears as he could muster, limbs shaking as he weakly struggled.

Mikey didn't need to think, racing towards his brother. But he'd forgotten about the last Purple Dragon, who attacked him from behind. The man was strong—holding Mikey into place as he wriggled and writhed.

"Raph!" he cried out. His heart hammered against the walls of his chest. No—he couldn't let his brother get hurt. It was agony watching Raph be attacked and not be able to defend himself in his weakened state.

Mikey didn't take the time to think of some complex plan. Even if that had been his style, he didn't have the time to come up with one. Besides, his mind was running on pure adrenaline, so there wasn't a dedicated thought in his head when Mikey whipped around and bit the man.

He didn't process the cries and swears of the Purple Dragon. The minute his grip loosened Mikey took off running.

He raced towards his brother, swinging his nunchaku.

The Purple Dragon was so focused on his victim that he didn't see the turtle barreling towards him. And by the time he did, it was too late.

Mikey threw him off of his brother, with only a grunt escaping the man's lips. All of the Purple Dragons were down, but not for long.

Throwing an arm around Raph, Mikey led the two behind a building, hobbling the whole way. The turtles pressed their backs up against the wall, holding their breaths.

After a quiet pause, voices began to mutter in the distance. They sounded hurt and angry.

"They got away! Shit! What are we gonna do?"

"They've still got the stuff"

"I know! But they won't get far. The turtles will be headed towards the sewers, we'll have to cut 'em off."

Then, the voice faded into the distance.

Mikey finally let out his breath.

"Crud," he hissed through his teeth.

"Hm?" Raph mumbled, leaning heavily against the wall. He looked pale and shaky. There was a dazed look in his eye. Had he heard any of it?

"They're gonna be blocking off the sewers," Mikey said.

"So, we'll have to fight 'em off," Raph replied, a slur to his voice.

"Wh—dude!" Mikey cried. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Uh, did you miss the part where we just got our butts kicked?!"

Raph waved him off. "Peh, that's just because they caught us off guard… we'll surprise 'em this time."

Mikey began to feel hot inside. "Normally, that would work, but there's only two of us, and you're in no condition to fight! We're going around the manholes until we get close to home."

Raph cast him a sharp look. "Who died and made you leader?"

"Nobody! I—"

Ugh, why did Raph have to put him in this position? He hated being the responsible one! That was Leo's job first and foremost, then Donnie's, then Raph's. It wasn't Mikey's, it was never Mikey's. But he also loved his brother, and wasn't about to let anything bad happen to him.

Even if he was being really, really stupid.

"You're not in the right head space, so I've gotta make the decisions. Now come on, we're going around."

And around they went. But it didn't go as smoothly as Mikey had expected it to. He really should have learned at this point in the night to lower his expectations.

He'd thought they could have traveled as they always did. They'd climb up through buildings, swinging across New York like the concrete jungle it was. It'd be easy to avoid the Purple Dragons.

But then he realized just as quickly that it wouldn't work. There was no way they could risk climbing with Raph. Even if they were able to get his weak, shaking body up to the roof, it would be dangerous. Mikey had images in his mind of his brother getting dizzy and falling off of the room, too frail to stop his own descent—

He shook his head. No, they weren't doing any climbing. They would have to stay off the main roads, and avoid the sewers the best they could. They were ninjas, the Purple Dragons wouldn't catch them.

Right?

But man, they sure didn't feel sneaky. Not while lumbering around the way they were. A couple of times, Mikey had been tempted to haul his brother over his shoulders and carry him. He'd seen Leo and Raph do it. But also, he knew he couldn't walk miles that way. Besides, Raph would probably fight it the whole time. So they limped down the streets together.

At least it was still night out. At least they didn't have to worry about people finding them, at least their only worry was the Purple Dragons.

Until the darkness of the sky began to pale in early twilight.

Once he'd realized what was happening, Mikey knew they were in trouble.

At first, not much changed. At first, it was only a little lighter outside, and he was confident that they'd get home before sunrise. But then, the sky began to turn a cornflower color. And then the humans showed up.

There were only one or two, leaving their apartments with tired eyes. Though, it wasn't long before they began to leave in groups, coffees in hand and cellphones to ears. They were all headed for work, he assumed.

When Mikey and Raph rounded and corner and his sight was filled with figures, his heart began to sink. Before he could think of anything else, he carried his brother into a nearby alley.

"Huh?" Raph hummed, as if he'd been asleep. Maybe he had been, drifting in and out of consciousness. It worried Mikey, it worried him a lot.

"People," Mikey hissed, pulling the two of them into the darkest corner.

"So?" The other slurred. "Jus' go around… like we always do."

Each person that walked the streets had their own life, their own stories to tell. The concept always drew Mikey in, just as he'd thought about earlier in the night. Maybe in another universe, he could join them. Free from danger and the peril his life was constantly in. But that wasn't this universe. In this universe, he was a freakish mutant turtle who had to protect his sick brother, and those people were just as dangerous as anything else.

His thoughts about human life weren't so whimsical anymore. Now, they were paranoid, as he glanced around the space that had began to buzz with early morning life. He loved people, and he loved interacting with them and saving them whenever he could.

But that wouldn't be today.

"Can't," he replied, glancing out of their hiding space. "Too many, dude. I don't wanna risk it."

"Y'sound like Leo," Raph mumbled.

The indignation that Mikey felt was so strong that it erupted from his mouth before he had time to think.

"Why do you keep saying that? I can be serious without turning into some kinda Leo jr."

Raph's disoriented face studied him for a moment. He tore away from his brother's fierce expression with a quiet, "bah."

After a moment, Raph spoke again. His words concerned Mikey, as it almost sounded like he'd forgotten what he'd just asked.

"What are we doing? Taking a break?" He muttered quietly. He sounded so frail that Mikey couldn't help but soften his tone when he replied.

"There's a bunch of people out, Raph. We're hiding."

"Buncha people?" He echoed. "Why…?"

"It's morning, they're going to work I guess."

"Morning?!" Raph cried with a new awareness. "We've been out all night? How close to home are we?"

"I don't know," Mikey admitted. He was always bad with direction.

"Ugh," Raph groaned, head falling against the wall. If Mikey didn't know any better, he'd think his brother was close to crying. "We're never getting home."

Mikey felt himself melt with sympathy. His brother was so tough and hardened, but now he was so weak… It wasn't often that Mikey saw him so defeated. He supposed it would be hard to keep up a thorny exterior with drugs actively working through your system.

"Come on dude, don't think like that," Mikey said. "I promise, I'll get us back to the lair. Then, Donnie and Master Splinter can get that stuff out of you. You'll be fine, we'll get out of this mess."

Raph turned a murderous glare on him. "We wouldn't be out here in the first place if you hadn't been fucking around," he snarled.

Any sympathy that Mikey had for his brother snapped away in an instant.

"One day someone's gonna die," Raph mumbled, voice trailing off. "Might be today…"

Mike could feel his fists ball at his side, beginning to shake. Was that a threat? Resignation? Who was he implying was going to die? Because it was neither of them. They were not going to die, Mikey was not going to get anyone killed—

"No, we wouldn't be out here if you hadn't been such a pushy jerk!" He shouted as his speeding thoughts crashed to a halt.

"Excuse me?" Raph breathed, obviously a little startled from Mikey's outburst. But his shocked eyes narrowed to white slits.

"You've been on my ass all night," Mikey continued. "If you hadn't taken our spar too far, Splinter wouldn't have sent us out! If you hadn't been ignoring me during the fight, we wouldn't have been trapped in that van!"

"You were the one pushing my buttons!" Raph shouted back, voice hoarse. "I wouldn't have 'been on your ass' if you weren't so annoying all the time."

Mikey briefly wondered if this was how his brother felt all the time. His heart felt like it was pounding in his chest. He knew his breath had quickened. As he opened his mouth, a red hot flash consumed his vision. He'd always thought "seeing red" was just a saying.

"You are being such a DICK!" Mikey cried. "Why are you such a jerk ALL of the time? Why are you always taking your anger out on us, I—"

Fury had blazed inside of him like a star. It burned fierce and bright, but once he'd exploded there was nothing else for it to do but fizzle out and die.

Mikey slumped against the wall, and collapsed to the ground. He clutched his knees to his chest, feeling a new emotion sprout to like in the ashes of his anger.

"I don't mean to be annoying," he said. "I mean, sometimes I do, but not all the time. I don't know what wrong with me. I'm not good at cleaning, or focusing, or being agreeable I guess. I try, I just—"

His voice broke. "I guess I can't."

There was a long pause. Mikey had pressed his face into his knees to hold back the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

"Shit Mikey, that's not what I meant," Raph groaned, placing a clumsy hand on the side of his face. "I didn't mean you're always annoying, I… I said it wrong."

"Then what did you mean?" the other muttered quietly. Raph groaned once again, irritated.

"Look, you know me," he spoke, voice slow. "I—I get mad 'n then I say stupid stuff. You know that."

Mikey shot him a glare. "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," he snapped. "Why are you so angry all of the time?"

"I—I don't know!" Raph snapped back. "Like you said, I don't—I don't mean to be."

His brother froze.

He listened to the ragged breath that Raph took in before speaking.

"I guess… the world's a scary place," he began. "It's scary, and sometimes I'm scared, but I don't wanna be. I can't be. 's easier to be angry. Safer, too. And sometimes I'm angry just 'cause, and I don't know why, and I can't really help it."

He was beginning to ramble now, words mixed together in a sickness induced word soup. "I'm afraid Mikey, I'm afraid all of the time. I'm afraid I'll lose you, or Donnie, or Leo, or Splinter, or—or all of you. It's almost happened before. And when I fight, it's because I have a chance to stop it. When I can't fight then… well, I'm helpless. I don't wanna be helpless."

His pale eyes searched the sky. Maybe for some sort of distraction, or maybe he was hallucinating something. Mikey didn't know—he couldn't know. "You scare me sometimes, Mike. You goof off, you never take things serious—but life is serious. I'm scared that one day you're gonna get yourself killed."

Mikey paused for a breath. Man… what a complete bomb to drop. He was at a loss for words. What could he say to that?

"Raph," he finally began in a quiet voice. "You know me—I'm always fine. I may be a little… silly and dumb, but I can still kick ass."

He thought for a moment, then laughed. "Heck, if you want to be protective over someone, it should be Leo. He's the one always getting into trouble."

Raph didn't laugh. He licked his lips dryly, then mumbled just above a whisper.

"I had a dream last night. A… nightmare, you could say."

Mikey sat up. "What?"

"Ugh," Raph grumbled. "Sounds so stupid to say but… yeah. I had a bad dream, I guess. You were hurt, 'n well… I couldn't do anything to save you."

"…Oh."

What a stupid thing to say, Mikey was sure he looked like a dumb-founded ogre. He didn't know what else to say at first. His brother was almost never this vulnerable. Now that he'd opened up… how was Mikey to respond?

"Yeah, I know, it's dumb," Raph mumbled. "I guess that's why I've been so hard on you today."

"It's not dumb," Mikey said, lightly resting a hand on the other's shoulder. "You know, I get nightmares too."

"Imagine that," Raph snorted.

"But listen, they aren't real," he continued. "I mean, ignoring the occasional prophetic dream."

"Mine might've been prophetic," Raph groaned. "I mean, look at us. We may die out here."

Mikey set his face into one of hard determination. "No, we won't."

He stood up. "Look, I know you guys think I can be incompetent, but—"

"I don't think you're incompetent," Raph said. "You just worry me, and I don't understand you sometimes, but I know you're capable."

Mikey nodded, a smile cracking his solemn expression. "Well, don't worry. I'll get us home safe."

"Heh," Raph chuckled, before his face settled into a hard line.

Mikey sat back down beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak," Raph rasped. "I hate it. I hate feeling weak. I should be fighting off the Purple Dragons."

Mikey turned to his brother, reading his expression and the meaning behind his words. "You know, you can't be strong all the time."

"Hmph," Raph hummed, fumbling an attempt to cross his arms.

"I'm serious!" Mikey retorted. "You know, you're always acting tough. Whenever things get scary, you act even tougher. When are you ever vulnerable?"

Raph quickly shook his head, making an unhappy noise. "No, no…" he croaked out. "I don't want—I can't—"

Hands on his hips, Mike said, "Well, you can't fight now. All you can do is stay alive, Raph."

He crouched by his brother's side, and looked at him. Really looked at him. It wasn't often that the two ever made eye contact like this, or ever had open conversations. He wanted Raph to see just how serious he was.

"Trust me. Let me get us home. It's gonna be okay."

Raph tore his eyes away. "Eh, don't look at me like that… fine. Not like there's much I can do… but I trust you."

Mikey beamed. "That's the spirit, Raphie!"

Raph blew out a breath and leaned against the wall. "Yeah, yeah…"

They were both silent again. After such an intense conversation, an awkwardness settled between them. Mikey looked over his brother, trying to assess his condition. He was no doctor, but he knew that Raph was doing worse. His breath was shallow, and his far off gaze had been hidden behind closed eyes.

"Raph? You good?"

"Hm? Yeah," he muttered. "Jus' tired…"

Mikey's heart jumped.

"No no, don't go to sleep Raph," he said with urgency. "Not until we get home."

"Mm, okay…" the other muttered quietly.

Their conversation had now come to a halt. They couldn't afford sit around in an alley anymore. They had to get walking.

Mikey crept around the side of the building, pressed to the wall. He peeked out from behind the corner.

The herds of humans had died down a little bit, but there were still quite a few wandering around. As the moon sank in the sky and early signs of the sun began to peek over the horizon, the number of people would only grow. The turtles wouldn't be able to walk the streets as they had before, not if they wanted to avoid getting caught.

Although, that also meant that the Purple Dragons would need to be more cautious too.

Mikey had to find a new route back, one that avoided the main roads. He'd have to follow the alleyways as far as he could, and then…

Well, he'd figure something something out.

"Come on Raphie," he said, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders.

"Okay," he mumbled.

It was a good thing that Mikey was supporting him, as Raph was unsteady coming to his feet. He wavered like a willow in the wind, and just as weightless. Swallowing his fear, Mikey gripped his brother tightly to his side as they took another clumsy step home.

Chapter Text

The once dark sky now displayed fiery reds and bright oranges around the edges. It was sunrise, and the turtles were still walking.

But it was okay. Despite the exhaustion that now weighed heavy against Mikey, he felt rejuvenated and determined. Despite everything, he felt sure that he would get them home.

With every step they took, the closer they got to the lair. But with every step, a little of his energy was lost

Raph had gone almost entirely still. Every few minutes, Mikey nudged him or spoke his name to make sure he was awake. He was practically carrying his brother at this point, the briefcase in his other hand. He may have been strong, just like the rest of his family, but there was only so much he could take

At this point, he was sure that he was running entirely on adrenaline.

He recognized the area around him. Even the alleys that the turtles had stuck to were familiar. They were almost home, he was sure of it.

The problem was that he didn't know what to do next.

Obviously, they couldn't get back to the lair without entering the sewers. But if they tried, there was a good chance they'd run into the Purple Dragons. Were they really guarding every entrance? Did Mikey want to take that chance?

He wished Leo was there. His big brother would have some kind of plan.

But he wasn't. All the responsibility rested on Mikey's shoulders.

Gee, talk about pressure.

"Raph, buddy?" He spoke quietly. "You still with me?"

"Mhm," the other mumbled. It wasn't a particularly reassuring response, but at least he was still awake (and alive).

Man, it would have been a great time to have his shell cell. Of all times to forget it… If he only had a way to contact Donnie and Leo, the three of them would be able to fight off a small group of Purple Dragons.

Boy, he was starting to have a lot of regrets. But he couldn't dwell on them. He had to think of the positives. They were almost home, and Raph was still awake.

Jeez, Mikey was tired.

"How you doing Raph?" he asked again.

He hadn't been expecting any real response, just another noise to signal that he was conscious. But there wasn't one.

"Raph?" he echoed. He nudged him with his shoulder. "Raphie?"

Silence.

Panic seized his heart like a cold, icy hand. He choked on his own air, breath caught in his throat.

Oh no.

No, no, no—

He almost dropped his brother in his attempt to place him on the ground. Gently resting Raph's body against the wall, he instantly leapt into action.

Please be alive, please be alive, Mikey thought as he felt around for his brother's pulse. He didn't dare breathe, as if his own would distract him from hearing Raph's.

He placed two fingers on the side of Raph's neck. The moment was long and agonizing as he waited to feel the beat.

But finally, a dull thrum pulsed beneath. Mikey let out the biggest sigh ever.

"Oh shell, Raph," he cried. "You scared the hell out of me!"

His brother didn't respond. Mikey let out a shaky breath. His pulse was slow, and faint, but it was there. At least it was there.

"Okay, okay, this is fine," Mikey muttered to himself. "This is fine!"

He stood, and began to pace. Any movement helped. He didn't consider it comforting, but he couldn't sit still when he was anxious.

"I just have to walk faster, I'll have to get us home faster," he began to ramble to himself, no longer concerned with his volume. "You just have to hang on a little longer Raphie, don't go into the light!"

The other didn't respond.

"I wish Leo were here," he groaned for probably the twentieth time that night. "Or Donnie, or Splinter or—I don't know!"

He clutched his head, fighting the emotion that pushed at the back of his eyes. "What made me think I could do this? I'm not responsible, or smart, or especially strong when I'm alone. What am I gonna do?"

He wasn't looking for a response. He hadn't received one so far. But this time, he did, and Raph was still unconscious.

"You know, you really should keep your thoughts inside your head," a new voice spoke. Mikey's heart sank.

He turned his head slowly, afraid of the sight that would meet his eyes.

"Someone might hear you," the man said, his wicked smile obvious in his voice. "You freaks might finally get discovered.

Mikey knew he recognized the voice before he saw the face. But damn, if his face wasn't the most recognizable part of him.

Names and faces might not have been Mikey's strong suit, but he definitely knew this one.

Dragon Face.

"You turtles have been causing my guys trouble all night," the man continued.

He reached out a huge hand. "Honestly, I'm pretty tired, and I have more shit to get to. So I'll cut you a deal. Hand it over, and maybe I won't bash your skulls in."

"Hand what over?" Mikey laughed awkwardly. Inside, he was freaking out.

The man's face darkened. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

His eyes flickered between the turtles, and a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, turtle. You won't be able to beat me alone. And even if you do, there are other Purple Dragons just around the corner. You're not getting out of this."

Mikey felt sick. He narrowed his eyes at Dragon Face, trying to keep his emotions from breaking any form of a facade.

"So hand it over," the Dragon continued. "And maybe I'll let you go."

Mikey couldn't speak for a long moment. What was he supposed to do? If he gave the case up to the Purple Dragons, he wouldn't have to fight. He could get Raph home safely, he could enter the sewers without worrying about a gang hiding in the shadows.

But if he did, then the drugs would be back in the hands of dangerous thugs. They could use it on other people, and maybe even the turtles in the future. Besides, if he brought it home, then maybe Donnie could analyze it to come up with some sort of cure.

And this was all under the assumption that Dragon Face would even honor his word, and Mikey didn't trust him as far as he could throw him (which wasn't very far).

"I'd hurry if I were you," the man said. "I'm not sure how much time your brother has."

Mikey inhaled sharply, looking back at Raph.

"What's happening to him?" he demanded.

Dragon Face shrugged. "Hell if I know! But he definitely doesn't look good."

A flash of anger coursed through his veins. Dragon Face needed to stop talking about Raph that way.

"No," Mikey finally said. "No way. You wanna go, big guy? Let's rumble."

The smug expression had been entirely wiped from the man's face, which almost made it all worth it. A vicious snarl took over, almost animalistic.

"You're going to regret this, turtle," he growled, throwing himself towards Mikey.

He barely had time to react, ducking under the strong arms that reached for him. Tired, and clumsy on his feet, he ended up rolling on the grimy ground.

ouch, he thought. He had to suppress a groan. He couldn't show how physically weak he'd become over the night.

Mikey darted between beneath Dragon Face's legs, avoiding a fist from crashing down on him.

He had to get to his feet as quickly as possible. He was limber—at least he had that. He was standing again in an instant, and landed blow after blow on the man's side. Dragon Face stumbled forward, coughing out a grunt. He whipped around, facing his opponent.

A hand came flying for Mikey's face like a predator lunging towards prey. He ducked out of the way, but just as he thought he was safe, he realized that his mask tails had been snagged on the man's fingers. He caught the sight of his attacker's smirk for a brief moment, before he felt a harsh tug from the back of his head. His eyes were met with the sight of the ground as he was pulled.

Mikey's body was tossed aside. The bricks of the wall scraped against his check as he fell into it. He winced, pushing himself up. The world spun for a short moment, but the image of the man running towards him sobered him up quick.

A fist slammed into his plastron, knocking the wind out of him with a cough. Mikey unleashed his own balled up hand, and felt it connect with his attacker's chest. There was a pause—he'd distracted Dragon Face for a beat, and it was an opportunity that Mikey wouldn't let pass by.

He punched Dragon Face again and again, over and over. His thoughts had all left his head as he attacked. He wasn't sure how many times his fist had slammed against the dude. All he noticed was the man trying to curl away from his hits, anger carved into his expression.

One of his hands reached for his own side, and Mikey realized all too late what was happening. The hand flew out in one sweeping motion, one that Mikey attempted to clumsily dodge.

A sharp, unbearable pain sliced across Mikey's leg like a jet cutting through the sky. His eyes fell downwards, horror building like bile in his throat.

Dragon Face had a knife, and it had slashed across his skin.

All Mikey was able to utter was a quiet, "shit," before falling to the ground.

The man standing above him barked a rough laugh. When he took a menacing step forward to reach his victim, Mikey scrambled as far away as he could. His back ended up pressed against the wall.

Teeth clenched, Mikey hissed through his teeth. He brought his leg up to his chest, wincing. The cut spread a throbbing ache like a wildfire.

Dragon Face was advancing on him, taking slow, deliberate steps. Mikey was completely trapped now, he and Raph both. It was then that Mikey had the sinking realization that he may not be getting out of this.

Chapter Text

Funny how a day can go the opposite of how you expect, right?

If this were a movie, or a comic book, or some other kinda story, this would be the part where I decide I won't die this way. I'd stand up, and with my remaining strength, I'd absolutely pummel this guy.

And while I had decided I didn't want to die yet… there was no hidden strength inside I could summon. Oh trust me, I tried to pull myself to my feet, to do anything to fight back—

But I'm pretty sure this is the end.

As I glanced towards my brother for the last time, I felt a complicated mix of emotions. I wish I had been strong enough to save him. But I'm glad he had been able to open up to me before this happened, even if he had been all drugged up.

I'm sure there were a lot of thoughts going through my head in moment, but all I can really focus on is the dagger headed towards me.

And I guess all I can do is accept it.

But it seems that life isn't done throwing surprises my way.

…

Gleaming metal stood inches from Mikey's face. His gaze flickered between the blade and Dragon Face's ugly mug. He never thought he'd be taken out by a simple knife. How was the thug planning on ending him? He only hoped it'd be quick.

He'd thought whatever prayers he could, to whatever deities were out there, when a voice interrupted his death.

"Step away from our brothers, Dragon Face."

The new voice made Mikey's heart do a flip in his chest. He looked past the wall of a man in front of him, eyes met with a painfully familiar sight.

"Leo!" he cried out, voice raw with emotion. "Donnie!"

He'd never been so happy to see his brothers, and he'd never been so grateful they were ninjas. The two had snuck up undetected by the Purple Dragons that were apparently nearby. His head fell against the wall, relief sucking the rigidness from his body.

"Hm," Dragon Face hummed, his smile faltering (though he still held a slight smirk). "Was wondering what happened to the rest of you. You two also looking to get clobbered?"

In the rising sun, Mikey could make out the anger etched onto Leo's face. It was nowhere near the rage of Raph, but he knew his brother well enough to understand that look. Leo was rarely this pissed off.

He began to feel a little giddy inside. Yeah, Dragon Face was toast.

"I could ask you the same thing," Donnie said. "If you don't back up, we'll make you."

Aw, Donnie, Mikey thought. He began to feel a little weepy, as embarrassing as it would've been to cry.

He watched as a self-satisfied grin slithered onto the Dragon's expression. "I already took out two turtles, no sweat," he said. "I think I can handle two more."

You didn't take out both of us, Mikey thought with indignation. Raph had already been unconscious when he found them!

If Raph had been awake, we'd have kicked your shell.

He had no reason to be worried for his brothers. They could finish what Mikey had started, right?

They would be okay.

He glanced nervously at the dagger in the man's hand.

They would be okay. They'd all faced worse.

As if Dragon Face's words were some kind of cue, Donnie and Leo turned their gazes to the collapsed Raphael. They looked horrified, but not surprised. They must have scoped out the scene before dropping in.

White teeth flashed as Leo growled with an open-mouthed grimace. The only sound he uttered was an angry cry as he raced towards Dragon Face with his katanas drawn, Donnie following close behind.

It was an all out brawl.

Leo attacked the man from above, Donnie got him from below. Then, Leo hit from the left, Donnie from the right. Mikey wanted to cheer as if it was some kind of wrestling match on TV. It was two against one now, there was no way a single thug like Dragon Face stood a chance. Sure, he was the leader of the Purple Dragons (which was nothing to sneeze at), but the turtles had totaled more powerful enemies before. He knew how this battle would end, and it wouldn't be in the man's favor.

But Mikey also didn't want to be a sitting duck, especially with that glimmering dagger swung so expertly.

He knew his brothers would win, but he couldn't watch either of them be hurt in the process. Not this time.

Using an arm to lean against the wall, Mikey pulled himself slowly to his feet. He winced, gritting his teeth through the pain. Shit, he'd received all kinds of injuries before, but none had hurt so much without knocking him out. He felt the slow trickle of blood down his leg like a bug on his skin. It looked more red than green.

When he applied pressure, Mikey's leg trembled, stinging and weak. It didn't stop his trek to the nearest trashcan though, the sight of which gave him an idea.

Crimson drops fell onto the cement below him. Mikey was slow, limping awkwardly. He watched the ongoing battle, every second another hit between the fighters. But there was no way he could go any faster, try as he might.

He looked away for a moment, looking down to keep himself from stumbling. But in that time, Donnie had been tripped. Mikey knew because of the short cry that followed it.

Leo had been running towards Dragon Face. He probably would have been able to take him down, and wrestle the raised knife out of the man's hand.

But he didn't have the chance, because Mikey stepped forward and slammed the trash can lid over the thug's head.

Just as Dragon Face fell towards the ground, so did Mikey. He'd stepped on his injured leg, which had collapsed beneath him. But before he hit the concrete, Leo caught him.

"Gee Mikey," Donnie laughed nervously, dusting himself off as he stood. "Nice save."

Leo didn't waste time with quips. He turned to the turtle leaning against his shoulder, eyes blazing with concern.

"What happened to you two?" he asked. "What's going on with Raph?"

"The Purple Dragons hit him with some kinda drug," Mikey said. "I don't know what it is or what it does."

"Shit," Leo muttered, grimacing. It wasn't often that he swore.

He turned to his brother. "Donnie!" Leo called. "Come patch up Mikey."

Donatello nodded vigorously, rushing over to the youngest's side. He caught the weak turtle in his arms, and brought him slowly to the ground.

"Sit," he murmured quietly. Donnie was a pool of comfort in contrast to the raging seas of violence. It was enough to make tears bead in the corner of Mikey's eyes.

"It's a good thing I brought some first aid," Donnie muttered, half to himself. He unzipped the duffle bag he always carried, and pulled out a roll of gauze, some cotton pads, and a bottle of something.

Anxiety prickled under Mikey's scales, despite having faced much worse hours before. He never really liked getting wounds dressed, particularly when he had to sit still. But he was mostly worried about any prognosis he was given. He hadn't taken the time to look at how deep his cut was. What if Mikey had nerve damage or something?

Donnie quietly got to work, emptying some of the contents of the bottle onto a pad. "This'll sting a little," he said. Mikey nodded.

"Ready? 3, 2, 1…"

A hiss pulled itself from Mikey's wince as his wound began to sting from the disinfectant. He felt the cotton dab away at his leg, cleaning away the red that smeared it.

"Oof, it's deeper than I thought," Donnie muttered, brows knit together as he focused. Mikey's heart skipped a beat.

"Am I gonna live, doc?" he asked, a nervous smile on his face.

"Well, I'm not a doctor," Donnie said. "But I'd say you'll heal up just fine. We'll have to wrap it, though."

Mikey hummed in agreement. He didn't have anything else to say. He trusted Donnie completely, even with his life.

As he began to wrap the gauze around Mikey's leg, his focused eyes glanced up briefly. "How are you doing?" he asked.

When he opened it to speak, Mikey realized he mouth was weirdly dry. Huh, now that he was able to finally relax… he noticed things he hadn't before. Obviously he was in pain, even in places he wasn't cut. He was exhausted, as if he were barely alive. He was thirsty and hadn't yet settled out of fight mode. And yet he was relieved, so relieved.

"I've been worse!" he cracked, waving a hand. His brother glanced up once more, narrowed eyes seeing right through him.

"That all?" he asked. Mikey sighed.

"I'm just really glad you guys are here," he admitted, as if Donnie had pulled the words right from his mouth.

"You must have had a rough night," his brother said. Mikey could tell that he was dying to know the details, but wouldn't press for them. Later. Mikey would tell them later, once they were all safe.

"I'm worried about Raph," he said, glancing behind him. Leo was currently assessing their brother, crouched by his side. "I have no idea what they injected him with."

Donnie looked as well. "We'll get him home, and I'll take a blood sample. See what I can find."

His voice was calm, but Mikey could see the worry etched into his face as well. His words had sparked a realization.

"Oh!" Mikey said. "We got the drug from the Purple Dragons."

He pointed to the briefcase, which was lying by the trashcan. "Maybe it'll help?"

"It'll help loads," Donnie said, cracking a smile. "Nice work."

Mikey couldn't help but beam. What could he say? He was a sucker for praising words.

"We should get going, before Dragon Face wakes up," Leo said. Raph was slung over his shoulders.

"Almost done," Donnie replied, tying off the bandages on Mikey's legs. "Can you stand?"

"Not very well," he admitted. "I think I'll need some help."

Donnie bent down and supported his younger brother. "I got you," he said.

Leo carried Raph all the way to the closest manhole cover, body slung over his shoulders, and Don walked with Mikey, supporting his injured side. It was a slow trek, just as it had been for hours before. But this time, they were together. All four turtles. Much of the stress that had been weighing Mikey down was gone, as he could finally relax and let someone else take the lead.

It wasn't a far walk. There was a manhole tucked into an alley nearby. As they approached, Mike tensed up. Would there be Purple Dragons? Would there be another fight?

There wasn't anybody on the outside, at least not in the open. But no one jumped out from corners as they pulled the metal cover aside and hopped in the sewers, which were empty as well. He wanted to sigh, or wipe his forehead in one large motion like he was in some kind of cartoon. If the Purple Dragons were still on the lookout for them, they'd missed this entrance.

When he finally looked around, Mikey realized that he recognized the tunnel around them. They were so close to the lair he could cry. His body sagged with relief.

"You okay, Mikey?" Donnie asked. He must have felt a change.

"Oh yeah, I'm good," he reassured. "Just nice to be close to home."

Don flashed him a sad sort of face, and they kept walking.

"So," Donnie said. "I'm guessing that's why the Purple Dragons were looking for you."

He gestured to the briefcase, which Mikey held in his other hand.

"Yeah," Mikey replied. "Raph nabbed it. It's the same stuff they hit him with. I don't know what they planned to use it for, they wouldn't say."

Donnie mouth straightened into a hard line. "It can't be anything good."

"That's what I thought."

"It must've been pretty important," Leo chimed in from up ahead. "The Purple Dragons were really looking for you guys. They had the sewers surrounded."

Well, that explained why it had been so empty. Don and Leo must've already fought them off.

"That's when we realized you guys must've gotten yourselves into trouble," Donnie laughed, nose crinkled.

"When do we not?" Mikey chuckled back.

After a moment of thinking, of living in the safety and protection of his brothers, he was hit with a thought.

"How did you find us, anyway?"

"When you didn't come home, we began to worry," Leo said. His gaze was set hard on the tunnel ahead.

"We tried to call you," Donnie added. "Until we realized you'd left your shell cells at the lair."

A sheepish grin spread onto Mikey's face. He could practically taste the disappointment in the other's tone. He supposed the shell cells were kind of like Donnie's babies, or maybe a gift that he'd found carelessly shoved into a corner of the room by the recipients. It wouldn't be the first time.

"I kinda thought the two of you had killed each other," Leo mused. "But when we were jumped by a group of Purple Dragons in the sewers, we knew you were in trouble."

"I'm just glad you guys came when you did," Mikey said. "I was about to be a Mikey pancake."

"Pancake?"

"What, were you going to be crushed?" Donnie asked. "With a knife?"

"I dunno, I figured I would end up in that shape."

They all laughed, and Mikey felt peace like no other. He'd come so close to death, but he was with his brothers, safe.

And now he was home, walking through the lair's doorway.

"My sons!" Splinter cried, pulling himself to his feet. He ran over, trained eyes assessing his injured children. "What has happened?"

"Raph's been drugged," the three turtles said almost simultaneously.

Concern etched itself deep into the wrinkles of Splinter's face. He looked worn, as if he'd been worrying all night.

"I'm going to set up a place for Raph in the lab," Donnie said. "I'm going to run some tests."

He helped his brother to the couch, then added, "Mikey, hand me that briefcase."

So he did. He'd been holding it so tightly that his hand had gone numb, and his leg was still shaking.

Donnie and Leo whisked Raph off to the lab, leaving Mikey and Splinter in the living area alone. It was quiet.

The last time he'd spoken to his father, he was being chewed out. But any anger that the old rat had held had melted away long ago. He stood by his son's side, troubled eyes taking in the sight.

"And what has happened to you, Michelangelo?" he asked. His gaze lingered on the gauze wrapped leg.

"Got sliced by Dragon Face," Mikey replied. "I totally wiped him though."

"I'm sure you did," Splinter said. "I am only sorry this happened in the first place."

Huh, did Master Splinter feel guilty? Maybe he just felt bad, the same way he always felt when his sons were hurt. Paternal instincts and all that.

"Just a string of bad luck," Mikey said with a huff of laughter.

"Yes… but perhaps some tea and soup will help," Splinter said. Mikey didn't really like tea, especially not the way Sensei made it. He thought it was bland. But he was thirsty, and it was nice to receive such care regardless. "I will get that started, and then I'm going to go help Donatello with your brother. Will you be alright, my son?"

After everything that happened, Mikey didn't really want to be alone. He hated the idea of sitting around while Raph was unconscious in the other room, probably fighting for his life.

But there wasn't anything more he could do, and he'd probably just get in the way. With Donnie, Leo, and Sensei watching over him, Raph would be okay.

"Yeah, you know me," he said. "I'll put on some flicks."

Splinter cracked a gentle smile. "Yes, do that."

One of the few times he approved of his son rotting away with television.

And just like that, Mikey was alone. He drowned out the silence with one of his shitty movies from the eighties, but it somehow brought out the emptiness of the room. There was no one to comment on the cheesy lines, or chuckle at his terrible impressions.

It was just Mikey.

Time passed by slowly, agonizingly. He waited to hear any news about Raph's condition, but none came. He heard voices in the other room, but he wasn't able to make out the tone, or words, or… anything really. It only heightened his anxiety.

Half way through the movie, Splinter brought him the food and drink he'd promised. The tea was herbal as usual, and just as bitter as always. It soothed his parched throat regardless.

There was about twenty minutes left in the show when Donnie approached him, hands folded at his lap.

"How is he?" Mikey asked, choking past the terror that sat like a lump in his neck.

"I ran some tests," Don said, sitting next to his brother. "Thankfully, the drug wasn't injected in any lethal dose. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure if it was meant to kill at all. Mostly, it affected his nervous system and brain activity a little more than something like alcohol. If I had to guess, it would be used in capture missions."

There he went again, on another "Donnie theory tangent."

"This is all meaning…?"

"Raph's fine," Donnie stated. "It should pass through his system within the day."

Mikey fell into a small heap on the couch, letting out the biggest sigh he ever had. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so relieved.

"He's awake, if you wanna see him."

Meeting the gaze of his brother, Mikey silently nodded. Donnie took to his side and helped him limp feebly into the lab.

Leo sat by Raph's side, watching over him carefully. When he saw his brothers come in, he jumped to his feet, helping Mikey to sit. He could see the way Leo's eyes carefully studied him.

Perhaps satisfied with the amount of eyes now on Raphael, the eldest began to exit the room. He said, "I'll be back," and then was gone.

Donnie stood by the chair, his hand resting on Mikey's shoulder. Raph's head was turned to the side, face hidden. It looked as if he were still sleeping, at least at first. But then he moved his face towards the newcomers, eyes blinking wearily.

Mike's breath hitched in his throat when the other muttered, "Mikey?"

"Hey Raph," he said gently. "How you feeling?"

"Hm," Raph hummed. "Less like death, I guess."

"Awesome."

There wasn't a reply to that. Raph turned his head forward and stared off at the lab in front of him. Mikey rested his hands on his lap, and tried not to let his own soft smile fade.

He noticed a cup of tea sitting nearby—Splinter must have made some for Raphael as well. The rest of the lab was a mess, Donnie must have been frantic.

"Hey Don," Raph finally spoke. "Would you give us some space?"

Mikey's eyes widened a little as Donnie nodded. "Keep an eye on him Mikey," he said. "And don't hesitate to call me in."

Raph rolled his eyes, as if he wanted to snark in response but stayed quiet. Donnie ignored his gesture, and left the lab.

It was just the two of them, now. Raph took a long breath, as if exhaling every pain and woe.

"So, you did it," he said. "You actually got us home."

"Sorta," Mikey replied, rubbing the back of his neck. He gestured to his leg. "Leo and Donnie showed up and saved the day."

"What happened?"

And so he explained everything that transpired after Raph passed out, from the Dragon Face attack, to Mikey's cut, to the walk home. Raph's eyes narrowed as he listened, nodding slowly.

"Shit, looks like I missed all the action," he said. "Sounds like you really held your own, though."

Mikey perked up. "Really? It sort of just felt like I failed and had to have my bros bail me out again, to be honest."

Raph gave him a funny look. "I thought you were the one who smashed a trash can lid over his head."

"Well, yeah—" Mikey stuttered. "But if Leo and Donnie hadn't shown up, I would've… you know—"

Raph stared at him for a long time, watching as the words died in his brother's throat. Was he thinking? Or was his head still fuzzy from the drug? What did those piercing eyes hold? Mikey began to feel antsy.

Finally, he spoke. "You're being too hard on yourself. You were exhausted, man. You'd been dragging my bum ass around all night. Besides, we usually take dangers on together, you were fighting alone."

Mikey fidgeted with his bandages. "I suppose."

"For the situation, you were pretty bad ass."

The statement made Mikey laugh. "Gee, a genuine compliment from the Raphael? I'm stunned."

"Just don't let it get to your head," the other joked. Their chuckles died down, once again giving way to an atmosphere where the only words were thoughts.

Mikey looked down at his knees, resting his arms on his lap. He felt the way his smile faltered, like a rubber band that snapped back into place.

"Don't."

"Huh?" he looked up to meet his brother's stern face.

"I know that look," Raph said. "You're thinking something bad. Spit it out."

"Sheesh, you read me like a book," Mikey giggled awkwardly.

"I mean, it's not bad," he continued. "I was just thinking that you were right, you know? I was the one who got us into that mess, and I couldn't even fix it by myself! I got you injured, and almost killed…"

He picked at his bandages, fraying them at the edges. "Ha, guess you guys should call me Mess Up Mikey, right?"

"Oh Mike—" Raph said. "I—shit dude, I didn't mean—"

He smacked a hand against his forehead. "Christ Mikey, what I said was stupid. I wasn't thinking clearly, don't listen to me."

Mikey shrugged. "I mean, you're right."

"No, I'm not."

The ferocity of his voice was enough to pull Mikey from his thoughts, grounding him back in reality.

"Mikey, I'm sorry."

Raph was averting eye contact, looking around the lab. "I didn't mean that. I was mad, but I shouldn't have said it. It wasn't your fault, I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I'd been picking on you all day. I was worried, but it didn't give me the right."

Mikey was stunned into silence. He stared at his brother, and his mouth may have been hanging open.

"I know I'm tough on you all the time, but it's because I love you. I love you and Donnie and Leo so much, I'd never forgive myself if anything happened. But you know, even though I'm always tough on you, I respect you. You're just so… Mikey, you know? I wouldn't want a different brother, because no one could take that place. Even if you do make a lot of messes, and sometimes annoy me."

Despite Raph's gaze being off in the distance, Mikey could feel the burning heat of his stare. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't blame yourself. Don't let it dampen your Mikey spirit. Hell, if anything it was my fault it all happened. I was being mean and reckless, like usual."

"Ha," Mikey let out a dry laugh. "Let's not pretend I wasn't also acting recklessly."

"I guess so," Raph mused. "Raph and Mikey, the reckless ones. I guess that's why we get along so well, huh?"

"And why we push each other's buttons so well!"

"Don't make laugh!" Raph cried between hoarse chuckles. "I'm still dizzy."

Once the moment quieted down, he added, "everyone got home alive, and that's what matters. Doesn't matter who's fault it is."

"Wow, big bad Raphael complimented me, apologized, and is acting sensibly? Someone pinch me! This is all too good to be true!"

"Don't test me," Raph grumbled, but there was no malice. "Or I'll pinch you."

"I must be dreaming!" he cried, and attempted to stand for emphasis. He'd forgotten about his injury, and fell back to the chair with a whiny "ow."

"Numbskull," Raph said.

In the beats that followed, he noticed the open briefcase in the corner, vials of the mystery drug laid out on a table. It had caught his sight when he'd stood up. His eyes dwelled on it for a moment.

"Do you think the Purple Dragons will come back for it?" Mikey asked, pointing to the case. Raph followed it with his head. "I mean, they seemed pretty mad tonight."

"Hm," Raph mumbled. "I don't know. It wasn't very dangerous, maybe they'll forget about it."

"Maybe," Mikey echoed, but he didn't feel fully convinced. "I guess if they do come after it, we'll just have to take them down again."

Raph punched a fist into his hand with a grin. "I like that idea."

"We'll destroy the Purple Dragons as we always do, as a family!"

Yeah, as a family.