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Donnie waited for everyone to sit down.
That should have been the first indication that this was serious, but it wasn't.
No, the far more visible indicator of that was the dark brown turtleneck carefully folded with a pair of circular glasses placed atop it, sitting right next to Mikey on the floor.
Dr. Feelings was on standby.
"Nyhem, may I have your attention, please?" Donnie activates his Ninpo, projecting a pre-prepared slideshow onto the back wall of their living area, "This is important."
Michelangelo Hamato: The Doctors Are Not Simply Personas
Then, below it, in smaller text:
Prepared and Presented by Donatello Hamato, Edited by Dr. Feelings, Illustrations by Michaelangelo Hamato
Casey cautiously raises his hand, "Uh- why are Mikey and Dr. Feelings being credited separately?"
"Patience, Casey, patience! At least let me get into the first real slide before questioning my methods." Donnie says, far more dramatically than necessary, and transitions to the next slide.
Dissassosiative Identity Disorder: Understanding Mikey
Donnie pauses, face becoming serious for a moment, "Humor aside, I feel the need to explicitly say that I am only able to give this presentation because Mikey gave his consent, that consent can be withdrawn at any time, and I will stop, so behave. This is to help us all understand our little brother better."
All around the room, shoulders tense at the silent fury in Donnie's voice.
Mikey, on the other hand, bounces on the ground nearby where he's sitting criss-cross-applesauce, "I did the pictures, and Doc made sure Donnie wasn't wrong about anything!" He visibly winces a moment after saying the nickname, muttering an apology under his breath.
Donnie gives him a fond smile, "Yes, that," he straightens, pulling out a pointer stick, "Now then: I am not going to give an in-depth analysis on DID or the many intricacies of what it means to have DID. What I am going to do is explain to you are certain aspects of Mikey's DID, understood?"
"Understood, brainiac," April hums, giving a thumbs up from where she's sprawled on the couch.
He bristles at the name, but continues, "Mikey has several 'Alters,' which are not separate people in his head, not someone he chooses to become at will, not an imaginary friend, not an 'alter ego,' not fragmented parts of his personality, and not any sort of hallucination on Mikey's part. They are born of trauma, but they are all our brother."
As he speaks, each "not" is punctuated by the pointer hitting the wall where his Ninpo is projected, as each item on that list appears in a flash of purple.
Everyone else flinches at the harsh sound it makes, except Mikey. He looks proud.
"Good? Good, moving on," he continues, taking a deep breath. "The way Dr. Feelings and Mikey have described it to me is like there being several Mikeys inside of one head." A diagram of said turtle's head appears. Several smaller Mikeys in various outfits are where his brain would be.
"On the topic of multiple Mikeys, I feel it vital to mention that he does prefer to be referred to as a singular entity. This is regardless of whether you are talking about one alter, Mikey as a whole, or the group of alters inside our little brother's head," he pauses, scanning the room to check comprehension, "The only exception is if you are talking about discussions among the alters, which is likely only something Mikey would ever do, but it is important to note so that there are no confusions, alright?"
"I think it's pretty simple, because I is Mikey and Mikey is me. What else is there to get?" Mikey chuckles to himself, rocking back and forth slightly, "But Elliot- I mean- Dr. Feelings, insisted it was important to include in this."
"And I agree, referring to multiple people or entities typically is done using plural pronouns, but you like singular. You suddenly deviating from that when you say things like how you were 'talking among myself, and they've decided' can lead to some confusion," Donnie says this like it is a discussion that has been had several times before. It probably has.
"Argh- getting sidetracked-" he shakes his head as if trying to get his train of thought back on course through brute force, "In short: Every alter is a full and complete aspect of Mikey with their own opinions and points of view, but Mikey is still a single person."
"This next part is where the visuals given to me are much more important because I obviously cannot see into Mikey's head," as he talks, the Ninpo transitions into what looks like a diagram of the Lair, with a couple of small tweaks. "Now, you may have noticed this map of our home is incorrect. That is because it is not a map of our home. It is a map of Mikey's internal world. This is where his alters are when they are not fronting, including Mikey himself. I will go more into that later, but he wanted me to explain the layout to you all a bit."
Where there used to be slumped postures and passive listening while looking somewhere else, there is now rapt attention. Everyone's gaze zeroed in on the diagram.
"Okay, the first main deviation you've likely noticed is this section here, where our rooms would normally be." He taps his pointer on that section of the map, where it seems to continue until the drawing cuts off abruptly, "Now, the only reason this cuts off is that I cannot reliably convey these tracks and subway cars going off into infinity visually. However, Michelangelo has assured me that there is no noticeable end to either of these two parallel tracks or the cars on them."
Draxum raises a skeptical eyebrow, but remains silent.
"These train cars," another tap on the diagram, "are his alter's personal spaces within his internal world. I will go more in-depth into these when I discuss each alter individually, but for the time being, all you really need to know is that each is its own small pocket dimension. The alter who owns it can shape it to their will on the inside, and can change what it looks like color-wise on the outside.
"They can also bar other alters from entering their train car. This means there is a clear difference between an empty car and one that an alter resides in but refuses to make himself known. An empty car can be entered, a car that seems normal on the outside but cannot be entered is a reclusive alter that Mikey likely knows little about," he pauses, glancing at Mikey for approval and getting a small head nod in return, "There is one alter that all the alters are very aware of, but have had no interaction with. We are also very familiar with this alter, but I will leave that until later."
Seeing the slightly crestfallen looks on some of his family's faces, Donnie gives a mean smirk, tapping his pointer on what would be the living area of the diagram. "Ironically enough, the other big deviation is the wall I am currently presenting against! Instead of this being a wall, in Mikey's internal world, it is where any non-active alters can watch directly what is going on outside of his head. They are all passively aware of what is going on otherwise, but will not have any exact memories unless they were interested in what was happening enough to be in those seats you're sitting in."
"This is also where alters go to co-pilot. Co-piloting looks different for each alter, so I will explain those as we get to them. However, on the inside, co-piloting alters are still there physically, but they appear to zone out, and their eyes go distant. Whichever alter is fronting at any given moment is not present in the internal world." Another glance to Mikey, another head nod.
"Last thing to go into before I explain the individual alters: sleeping. When Mikey sleeps, and does not dream, that is one of the very few instances of every alter being present in the internal world at once. This is rare, given how often Mikey dreams, but I've been told that he usually discusses the events of the day among himself in more detail than any of the alters would be aware of. The alters can also sleep within the internal world, but they do not dream independently of Mikey. It serves as a way to recharge and skip some time. Some alters like sleep more than others." He takes a deep breath. Evidently, he had forgotten to do that while he was ranting.
"Normally, I would break for questions here, but I am not the one who will be answering your questions, and I can see you are all far more interested in Mikey's alters than anything else I have said up here today," he chuckles, transitioning his Ninpo to the next slide.
Alter Profile: Template
"No, this was not left in here by accident. Mikey is the default alter, fronting most of the time, so Dr. Feelings thought it would be good to use him as a sort of template for what the other alters' slides will look like, okay? Leo- sit down normally, you're literally on the edge of the couch and about to fall off."
Startled at being called out, Leo does, in fact, fall off the couch. There is a pause, then laughter as Leo gets back up, grumbling, "Fuck you too, Donnie."
"Just doing my part to be your least favorite twin, Lee," he sneers, giving a sardonic smile. "Okay, so: Mikey. This is how the other alters will be laid out. Here we have a visual of our beloved younger brother," tap tap, "and here we have an illustration of his train car in the internal world," tap tap tap, "yes, it is a near exact replica of the one in the lair."
"Over here," he taps on the left of the drawing of Mikey, above the one of his train car, "is where any aliases the alters are comfortable with will be listed, along with any they are distinctly uncomfortable with and will not respond to. The name across the top of the slide is, conversely, their internal name. This is a name they felt suited them when the split that caused their creation happened. There is nothing listed here for Mikey because he will respond to any and all nicknames we have for him, along with any of the names of his alters."
Mikey pipes up, raising his hand, "Oh- but I will correct you if you're using the name of an alter that's not present! I can kinda feel if any specific one of me is watching, even if he's not co-piloting, so I wanna make sure you know if who you're trying to talk to is there or not." He smiles brightly at his family, but there is a hint of Doctor Delicate Touch in his eyes.
"Um- yes. It is important to create a distinction between Mikey and the other alters, since Mikey is an alter, just the 'main' one, because they are still separate entities regardless of Mikey being fine with you calling him any of their names." Donnie shifts from foot to foot, slightly unnerved, but continues on, tapping his pointer to the other side of the slide, "Over here will be anything the alter in question wants us to know about them, or anything Dr. Feelings thought I should include. While these may not be things that the alter thinks are important for us to know, they have been approved of by the alter in question... barring one, but I will talk about him later."
Donnie clears his throat, taps the slide once more for emphasis, and then flicks his wrist to advance.
Alter Profile: Doctor Delicate Touch
The illustration that appears in the center of the display is… unmistakable. A Mikey, broader through the shoulders, not by a change in physique but by how he holds himself, jaw set, posture rigid, fists clenched even in a still image. The accompanying train car is a vivid, almost aggressive green.
“This,” Donnie says, voice going flatter by necessity rather than choice, “is Doctor Delicate Touch. This is an alter you all should be aware of.”
Mikey straightens slightly where he’s sitting, hands folding together in his lap.
“Internal name: Doctor Delicate Touch,” Donnie continues. “Approved names include Dr. D, DT, Del, and Deli. He does not object to other nicknames so long as they are not diminutive or mocking.” A beat. “He insisted I also include the name ‘Small Hulk,’ but no one has ever called him that and likely never will, despite the color of his train car.”
Casey snorts, then clamps his mouth shut with a hand at the look Donnie gives him.
“Doctor Delicate Touch emerged when Mikey was very young,” Donnie says, pointer tapping the image of the green train car. “He is loud, blunt, and deeply uncomfortable with causing physical harm, despite appearances. He almost never fronts fully, and these fronts are typically just short bursts. Instead, he co-pilots. Co-piloting for him is essentially him becoming a voice in the back of Mikey's head and voicing all of his thoughts with no filter. Dr. Feelings also thought it important to note he has an issue controlling his tone in addition to his volume.”
On the slide, the image of the train car shifts to show the interior, showing half dojo, half something much softer. Mats. Padding. Dimmer lighting. A shelf of tactile toys.
“The dojo side exists for venting anger safely,” Donnie says. “The training dummies resemble individuals who have caused harm to Mikey or his family. This is intentional. It allows him to express rage without directing it outward.”
Splinter’s hands tighten in his sleeves.
Mikey rocks once, slow. “He doesn’t like hurting people,” he says quietly. “He just… really hates it when people hurt us. Dr. Feelings has been helping him with his anger issues.”
Donnie nods once. “Doctor Delicate Touch acts as a stabilizer. When he co-pilots, Mikey becomes more confrontational, more assertive, and less willing to self-sacrifice.”
Leo opens his mouth.
Donnie doesn’t even look at him. “Questions. At. The. End.”
Leo shuts it again.
With another tap on his Ninpo, the slide shifts.
Alter Profile: Dr. Feelings
The next slide's train car is a simple lilac. Soft. Calm. The illustrated Mikey wears a familiar turtleneck and glasses.
“This is Dr. Feelings, another alter we know well." Donnie says, and there is a notable care in how he says it. “Internal name: Dr. Feelings. Approved names include Dr. F, Elliot, Eli, and Michael. He will not respond to joke names and dislikes the name 'Doc,' despite Mikey's repeated slips of the tongue.”
Leo winces preemptively.
“Dr. Feelings emerged later in life,” Donnie continues. “He is responsible for internal organization, emotional processing, and documentation. He maintains extensive journals and notes on all alters and family members.”
The slide shifts to show an absurdly large filing cabinet in the back of the train car.
“Infinite,” Donnie adds dryly.
Mikey grins. “He likes paperwork.”
"He is the only alter that is actually a doctor. Elliot wanted me to emphasize that, while Mikey getting an online PhD was the catalyst for his creation, Mikey's innate drive to protect and secure his family in any way is what created him."
“Dr. Feelings is almost always co-piloting, or, at the very least, actively observing,” Donnie says. “He can front if needed, like he does during therapy sessions, but prefers observation. He assisted extensively in the preparation of this presentation to ensure accuracy and consent.”
Donnie pauses, then adds, more quietly, “He also intervenes if Mikey is overwhelmed and unable to articulate his needs.”
April’s expression softens.
Alter Profile: Chef Angie
The train car brightens immediately to a baby blue, the color of kitchen tile.
Illustrated Mikey wears a chef's hat and a full chef's coat, all orange in color.
“Internal name: Chef Angie,” Donnie says. “Approved names include Chef, Chef-y, Angie, Angelo, and Angel.”
Mikey perks up. “He co-pilots when I cook!”
“Yes,” Donnie agrees. “Chef Angie cannot multitask, but Mikey loves multitasking when cooking. When he's co-piloting, Mikey becomes focused, methodical, and significantly less prone to distraction when it comes to cooking. While other alters co-pilot within the mind, Angel co-pilots by taking control of the body... he also has a specific apron he likes.”
Casey mutters, “Explains a lot.”
"He exists because, while cooking started as a way to provide for us and show how much he loves us, it slowly became a coping mechanism. A way for Mikey to control something when everything else felt out of control," he pauses, a small smile forming on his face, "Angie's basically an alter formed from the love Mikey put into cooking."
“His train car is a kitchen,” Donnie continues. “In it, there is an infinite recipe book that I theorize is a separate spatial anomaly inside the pocket dimension that is the train car. It appears to just be a small paperback book, but you can turn pages forever. If he is thinking of a specific recipe, he will turn to that exact page, but otherwise it's just random recipes within Mikey's head that go on forever. Also, Chef Angie will lock himself inside it if Mikey is around or eats food he did not prepare.”
Mikey laughs. “He can't stop himself from taking over fully and going all 'food-critic' otherwise.”
Alter Profile: Baby Bro
Purple floods the space the blue traincar used to be. Soft. Plush. Almost painfully gentle.
“Internal name: Baby Bro,” Donnie says. “He will respond to any respectful name. He will not respond to condescending nicknames or infantilization. He is not a little and wants me to let you all know that he will 'sick Deli on your assess' if you treat him like he is one.”
The illustrated Mikey wears an oversized hoodie, sleeves swallowing his hands, smile bright and cheerful.
“Baby Bro is an adult alter,” Donnie emphasizes. “He represents vulnerability, attachment, and emotional openness. He seeks comfort and affection, not because he is incapable, but because he values connection. He is almost always observing, if not co-piloting. Which, for him, is simply talking to Mikey in the back of his mind and occasional control over facial features.”
The view of the traincar shifts, the inside is full of soft and squishy things, along with many stuffed animals and hoodies in the colors of his family.
"If you are suddenly confronted by a very cuddly Mikey who is wearing one of our hoodies, you are likely interacting with a fronting Baby Bro. Don't change how you behave because of this, just be aware that this is what is happening."
Mikey beams, winking. “This is why you're his favorite, you didn't hear that from me, though.”
A very soft look crosses Donnie's face for just a moment before he turns back to his presentation and advances the slide, "Noted."
Alter Profile: Watercolor
Blues. All of them. That is the outside of this alter's traincar.
“Internal name: Watercolor,” Donnie says. “Approved names include Water, Aqua, Navy, Art Man, and Art Dude. He likes blue, a lot.”
The illustrated Mikey holds a brush and wears an orange beret. The train car overflows with tools for any and all creative media.
“Watercolor is selectively mute,” Donnie continues. “He prefers co-piloting when others are present and will only front fully when Mikey is alone. His form of co-piloting is similar to Chef's. Instead of doing any control within the mind, he controls Mikey's hands and body almost entirely, while he lets whoever's fronting deal with people-ing.”
Mikey smiles softly. “He paints for you guys.”
April presses a hand to her chest, suppressing the urge to squeal at the cuteness and tackle Mikey in a hug.
Alter Profile: Michelangelo / Future Mikey
The train car that follows is… sparse. Burnt sienna in color. Hardly any furnishings outside of what would already be present. The illustrated Mikey is older. Smile lines. Gray hair at the temples. Flowing orange cloak. He hovers while the other alters stood, his legs crossed.
“This alter identifies as Michelangelo,” Donnie says. “He is also referred to internally as Future Mikey. Approved nicknames include Gray Hair, Floatie, Mr. Float, Old Man, and Gramps.”
Mikey snickers. “He likes the old man jokes.”
Donnie starts pacing, "He emerged around the time of the failed Kraang invasion, which has led to an ongoing internal debate among the alters as to his origins, but I will get into that a bit later.
“He is largely absent,” Donnie continues. “Not only from the observation space, but from the internal world as a whole. He claims to be ‘visiting my brothers.’ Notably, he does not say ‘our brothers’ like the other alters do.”
Draxum’s eyes narrow.
“This is the main prompt for these internal debates,” Donnie says, “regarding whether he is a fragment of Mikey's mind that somehow came through the portal with Casey and is actually visiting his brothers in the Hamato afterlife, or simply an alter that chose to take on this form and behavior based on what we've heard from Casey. Gramps, for his part, refuses to elaborate."
Mikey shrugs. “He doesn’t cause problems. He just… checks in?”
The train car image is almost empty. A bench. A window. A bed.
“He has never fronted or co-piloted to anyone's knowledge,” Donnie concludes. “It is unlikely you will ever interact with him directly.”
Alter Profile: Ninpo
The slide goes dark, almost black.
Then orange.
Not warm. Not soft. Just… present.
“This alter has no confirmed internal name,” Donnie says. “The name Ninpo was assigned to them by the other alters.”
There is no illustration of a Mikey. Only the train car. Lit from within. Ninpo orange.
"Ninpo has never been seen inside of the internal world," Donnie says, carefully, "the only reason the other alters know he is there is because of his train car."
"On rare occasions, typically triggered by high stress and danger, there is what has been dubbed a 'blackout.'" He pauses, steels himself, continues, "During these blackouts, all alters completely lose any control over anything and all lights within the internal world go out except for the lights within Ninpo's train car."
Mikey’s hands tighten in his sleeves.
“The prevailing assumption is that Ninpo takes full control during blackouts, as Mikey does not simply pass out during them,” Donnie continues. “However, this has not been confirmed. What is known is that, whoever takes control during those moments, he prioritizes the survival of himself and his family above all else... even willing to go lethal.”
Silence settles heavy in the room.
“He’s still me,” Mikey says, very quietly. “Just… a version of me that doesn’t negotiate.”
"On that note," Donnie starts, taking the focus off Mikey temporarily, "it is unknown if this alter has the capacity to speak or is selectively mute like Navy. No alters are able to interact with Ninpo to attempt talking with them, and none of us have attempted to talk to Mikey while he is in that state. However, he has never uttered a word during these moments, only making grunts and turtle sounds."
Donnie lets that slide fade, taking a deep breath and putting away his pointer.
“That concludes the individual profiles,” he says, voice finally losing some of its tight edge. “There is a final slide.”
Questions
Donnie steps back. “I will not be answering them.”
He sits, his Ninpo vanishing as he does so.
Mikey stands, brushing off his knees, grinning nervously as he turns to his family and forces cheer into his voice. “Okay! Hi. It’s me- me meaning Mikey- Ask away!”
For a moment, no one speaks.
Not because they don’t have questions.
Because they have too many, and every single one of them suddenly feels like it might hurt if handled wrong.
Mikey rocks on his heels, hands tucked behind his back, grin a little too bright but genuine all the same. He scans their faces, reading them the way he always has.
Splinter is the first to break the silence.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Both of you. This could not have been easy to explain.”
Mikey relaxes just a fraction. “You’re welcome.”
Donnie simply hums in agreement.
Splinter folds his hands in his sleeves. “My question is this: when you say ‘trauma,’ what do you mean?”
Mikey doesn’t hesitate.
“Our childhood.”
No embellishment. No humor. No apology.
The room goes very still.
Splinter bows his head, just slightly. “I see, I am sorry for my part in that.”
Leo opens his mouth, shuts it, then raises his hand halfway like he’s in class and immediately regrets it. “Okay, uh- I promise I’m not trying to be a jerk. I just- don't know how else to ask this." He gestures vaguely. “How do we know who we’re talking to?”
Mikey nods, like he expected that one. “Most of the time? You don’t need to.”
Leo blinks. “What?”
“I’m still me,” Mikey says. “Even when someone else is observing or co-piloting, it's still mostly me. If it matters, I’ll tell you. If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.”
Donnie doesn’t look up, but one finger taps once against his knee. Agreement.
April leans forward. “Is there anything we should not do?”
Mikey considers that. “Don’t try to force anything. Don’t demand I ‘switch.’ Don’t treat me like I’m fragile- especially Baby Bro, he hates that. And don’t joke about it unless I start the joke or I've made the joke in the past. That means it's fair game.”
Leo winces again. “Noted.”
Casey rubs the back of his neck. “So… if one of them doesn’t like me-”
“They all love you,” Mikey says immediately, refusing to let him finish that thought.
Casey squints. “That was fast.”
“Baby Bro adores you and loves how soft your hair is,” Mikey adds. “Deli thinks you’re loud but sincere, which is a huge compliment coming from him. Angel trusts you around knives and will let you cook with him, which is actually a really big deal. Navy won’t talk to you, just like everyone else, but they would like to make something for you eventually. They're undecided on the medium right now. Elliot thinks you’re emotionally reckless but improving and is proud of your Mikey for not letting your enthusiasm for life crumble. And- uh- no comment from Ninpo. Gramps isn't around enough to comment.”
“…damn,” Casey mutters. “I feel assessed.”
Donnie snorts before he can stop himself.
Draxum, arms crossed, finally speaks. “You said there is one alter none of you can interact with.”
Mikey’s grin fades. Just a little.
“Yeah.”
“And you are not afraid of this.”
“I didn’t say that,” Mikey replies. “I said he’s still me.”
A pause. Then, softer: “Fear doesn’t mean rejection, just... caution. Having no control is scary, especially when I'm willing to hurt people badly.”
April swallows. “If… if you’re overwhelmed, how do we help?”
Mikey smiles, smaller now, but still there. “Ask. That’s it. Just ask.”
Raph hesitates, then blurts out, “Okay, Raph has a weird one that's been bugging him.”
Mikey points finger guns. “My favorite kind.”
Raph gestures toward the folded turtleneck and glasses still sitting beside Mikey. “Why are those there if Dr. Feelings isn’t… present?”
Mikey glances down at them.
“Oh! Yeah. That’s because Elliot is the only one who absolutely insists on wearing his outfit when fronting. Like- won’t budge. Ever. I usually keep them in my shell, just in case, but it's more convenient just to have them out.”
Donnie finally looks up. “We were unsure if he would want or need to intervene.”
Mikey nods. “The others prefer their outfits, but they don’t mind skipping them if it’s inconvenient. Eli considers it… grounding.”
Leo nods slowly. “That tracks for you.”
Splinter smiles faintly. “If Doctor Feelings wishes to speak later, he is welcome.”
Mikey’s shoulders loosen. “I’ll tell him... actually, he's listening.” He chuckles to himself.
Another pause.
Then Leo clears his throat. “So… can we meet them? Officially?”
Mikey exhales, slow. “I can’t force anyone to front. They only do that if they want to. Most of them prefer co-piloting and letting me handle the rest.”
He hesitates, eyes unfocusing for just a beat.
“…and sometimes they decide to say hi out of spite.”
Something shifts. Not a takeover. Not even a switch.
Just presence.
Mikey’s posture straightens. His grin softens into something steadier, firmer, harder.
“Questions for me are fine,” he says, voice a shade deeper, calmer, a bit too loud for normal conversation. “Just… be respectful.”
Doctor Delicate Touch is in the building.
Dr. D doesn't do much to indicate his presence. It's more about what he stops doing that tells the room something's changed. Gone is the idle rocking back and forth on his heels and looking at the floor, in its place is squared shoulders with a raised chin and a look that dares anyone to try him.
Still Mikey, just... more resilient.
No one speaks for a moment.
Then Raph exhales through his nose. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I’m gonna ask something, and I need you to tell me if I cross a line.”
Deli nods. “You’re good, so far.”
Raph scratches at his jaw. “When you’re… co-piloting. When it’s him.” A brief glance at Mikey’s eyes. “Do you remember everything?”
“Yes,” He answers immediately. No humor. No hedging. “I’m still there. All of me. Always.”
Raph nods, accepting that. “Okay. Then-” He hesitates. “If you ever tell me to back off. Or stop. Or get out of your space.”
“I mean it,” Deli says.
“Good,” Raph replies. “Because sometimes I get loud when I care.”
A corner of Dr. D's mouth twitches. Approval. "So do I."
April shifts closer on the couch. “Can I ask something kind of… logistical?”
Mikey brightens a bit, DT retreating back into his mind. “Sure!”
“If you specifically are dissociating,” she says carefully, “like- not fully gone, but not all the way here either- what does that look like from the outside?”
Mikey thinks for a second. His eyes flick unfocused, then return. “Usually? I get quieter. Or I start joking way more than normal. Depends on who’s helping me get through it.”
“And if it’s bad?”
“I stop making eye contact,” he says. “My hands get really still. Almost all of my alters try to help at once, and I forget to breathe right.”
Donnie’s head snaps up at that.
Mikey glances at him, sheepish. “Donnie's already clocked it.”
Donnie presses his lips together, but doesn’t argue.
Splinter inclines his head. “Then, if we see this, should we attempt to ground you?”
“Yes,” Mikey says. “But- ask first. If I'm nonverbal, the answer is yes, but sometimes I don’t want to be pulled out just yet. Sometimes I just need someone to sit nearby and exist while I put myself back together.”
Splinter nods once. Commits it to memory.
Draxum clears his throat. “You spoke of lethality,” he says bluntly. “Under extreme conditions.”
Mikey doesn’t flinch. “Yeah.”
“And you trust yourself?”
A long pause.
Mikey answers honestly. “I trust why Ninpo exists. I don’t trust the situations that bring him out. I don't know how much control he has over himself when he takes control, and that worries me. I still trust him, though.”
Casey shifts, uncomfortable. “So like… if Ninpo shows up-”
“Leave,” Mikey says immediately. “Get as far away as you can.”
“That bad?”
“That focused,” Mikey corrects. “He doesn’t stop to explain. He doesn’t stop to warn. He eliminates threats to all of you. Injuries can heal, so it is unlikely he will consider causing 'minor' injuries to you as a result of his actions something worth allowing the threat to escape over.”
Silence again.
Then Casey nods. “Okay. Cool. Noted. I will vacate.”
A beat. “Respectfully.”
That gets a huff of laughter from Mikey, tension easing just a hair, "If my eyes glow, get up and go."
April shifts, breaking the quiet this time. Not rushing. Careful.
“Okay,” she says, hands clasped loosely in her lap. “This might be a weird way to phrase this, so tell me if it is.”
Mikey tilts his head. “Shoot.”
“If… if one of the others wants to answer something instead,” April continues, eyes flicking briefly toward the folded glasses beside him, “that’s okay, right? You won't be offended if they want a question aimed at them?”
Mikey’s smile softens. “Yeah. That’s okay.”
A pause.
Then: “Angel’s listening... and talking to me.”
April nods once, grounding herself. “Chef Angie,” she says, voice warm and deliberate. “When you take over while cooking... is that something you want to do? Or something you feel like you have to do?”
Mikey’s shoulders shift subtly, posture tightening into focus.
“It started as something I felt I had to do, but now? It's a want,” he answers after a beat. “It’s… calm. Controlled. Predictable. Food doesn’t lie to you. It makes people feel happy. Cared for.”
Casey raises his eyebrows. “Respectfully? That tracks.”
A small huff of laughter escapes Mikey as his posture relaxes. Not defensive, fond.
Raph clears his throat. “What about the art one,” he says, nodding toward the invisible train car. “Navy. Watercolor. Whatever name he’s feelin’ today.”
Mikey’s gaze drifts unfocused for a second.
“He doesn’t like talking, and no part of me has a name he 'prefers' over another one,” Mikey says quietly. “But Aqua likes feeling seen. If you ever compliment something creative without demanding an explanation near me, he hears it. That matters to him.”
April smiles. “Noted.”
Splinter inclines his head. “And Baby Bro,” he says gently. “If he is fronting… what is the correct way to respond?”
Mikey answers immediately. “Exactly the same way you’d respond to me on any other day. He hates being treated like he’s small or different. He has a lot of love to give and just… doesn’t want to be alone with feelings.”
Raph grunts. “Mood.”
Donnie finally speaks again, eyes still on the floor. “Doctor Feelings.”
Mikey straightens a little.
“If you are co-piloting,” Donnie continues carefully, “and you believe Mikey is miscommunicating or minimizing something important… will you intervene?”
There’s a longer pause this time, one where Mikey reaches down and grabs the glasses, putting them on.
“Yes,” Mikey says. The word is precise. Calm. Not apologetic. “But only if I think it’s needed. I don’t override him unless he’s hurting himself by staying quiet. Mikey is an adult, and I am not his keeper.”
Donnie nods once, sharp. Satisfied.
Draxum shifts his weight. “And the one you call… Future Mikey.”
Mikey snorts softly, removing the glasses. “Gramps.”
“Yes,” Draxum deadpans. “Him.”
Mikey shrugs. “He doesn’t answer any questions I have. He just… checks that you're all still here. That we're all doing well. Then he's off to... wherever it is he goes.”
Silence settles again, but it’s different now.
The alters are no longer an abstract concept or any looming threat. They are participants. Listeners. Contributors.
Family.
The room breathes.
Leo, who has been silent through all of this, doesn’t look up.
He finally speaks without raising his hand. “Does it hurt?”
Mikey blinks, utterly confused. “What?”
“Switching. Co-piloting. Letting go.” Leo’s voice is softer than usual. “Does it hurt you?”
Mikey exhales slowly. “Not physically. It’s more like… letting go of the steering wheel for a second. Sometimes it’s a relief because you're able to correctly address something else in the car and you have a passenger who can keep the wheel steady for a moment. Sometimes it’s terrifying because you don't have control over the car.”
Leo nods, eyes fixed on the floor. “Okay.”
Donnie watches him closely.
April bites her lip. “Are there things you want us to do more?”
Mikey smiles, real this time. “Yeah.”
He starts to tick them off on his fingers before quickly realizing he does not have enough fingers.
“Ask instead of assuming. Tell me when you’re worried instead of hovering and hoping I won't notice. Keep inviting me places even if I say no sometimes because I'm having arguments in my head. And-” He hesitates, glancing around. “If I mess up with words or reactions, please give each of me a second chance.”
“You always get those, Mikes,” April says immediately.
Raph grunts agreement.
Splinter smiles.
Donnie finally speaks again. “If at any point this becomes too much-”
“I’ll tell you,” Mikey says gently.
Donnie studies him for a long moment. Then nods once, sharp and final.
Mikey’s shoulders loosen. He rocks once on his heels, grin creeping back in like sunlight after a storm. It appears someone is co-piloting.
“…okay,” he says, clapping his hands together lightly. “Any other questions before I emotionally collapse and need snacks?”
Casey raises a hand. “Are the snacks made by Angel?”
“Yes.”
Immediately, he responds, “Then, no further questions. I speak on behalf of everyone.”
Laughter breaks the tension at last, spilling through the room, imperfect and human and theirs.
And, for the first time in a long time, Mikey laughs with all of himself.
It's a beautiful sound.