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Mikey sat straighter, avoiding to worsen the pain in his side. Then again, what was that pain compared to the feeling in his arms?
They scratched, itched, flared in white-hot pain all at once. That yellow glow followed him whenever he went, faded into dull orange as bandages slowly crept up the cracked skin.
Mikey looked up through wet eyes, shining with the remains of hot tears. The crease in his brow was potent as he looked at his brother in blue, tongue stuck out in focus as he wrapped gauze around Mikey’s lower arms.
Leo, the insomniac he is ever since the day their lives had changed, seemed to have developed a sixth sense for whenever one of his brothers was in distress. Raph with his eye, Donnie with his shell and Mikey with his arms. Before Leo was appointed leader, he was always the medic.
Perhaps it was a habit he’d picked up from Raph, being leader was no easy job. They all had bad habits, and none were saved from the guilt of picking up the particularly bad ones. Maybe Mikey could be of use if he made another seminar? God knows all of his older brothers could use it-
“Hermanito?” Leo’s fingers snapping in front of his eyes brought Mikey out of his trance he didn’t know he’d slipped into. “There you are. Thought you might have hit your head too hard when you fell, you were totally dazed out.” Leo finished his sentence with a light chuckle. No matter what they’d been through, he’d always cope with his jokes like barely anything had happened.
It made Mikey both adore and despise him at once.
“Sorry.” Mikey meekly apologised, shaking his head- a bad idea, as he jostled his already aching skull.
“Hey- none of that, you have a pretty bad headache, huh?” Leo asked him, care and concern laced in his tone. Mikey liked that tone, it felt like genuine care instead of babying for the sake of him being the youngest. Of course, that fact was always prominent, Mikey knew his older brothers were protective of him in their own ways.
“Michael.” Leo poked the space between Mikey’s eyes lightly, making him look up and into Leo’s eyes.
The weight of that gaze was that of a brother. Not a leader.
“You’re being way too quiet and you keep spacing out. Is something else wrong with your scars?”
Mikey couldn’t help but chuckle. “And I thought I was the family therapist.”
“Mikey.” Leo said, a hint of firmness to his voice that made Mikey’s smile drop.
..Since when had Leo matured so much? It feels like yesterday he was running around New York trying to stop the Krang by himself with little regard for his team. How he was thrown around in that god forsaken dimension with that creature.
Mikey’s face scrunched up, and he quickly looked away from Leo to avoid another round of salt-ridden tears. His eyes focused on his arms, the washed-out remains of his scars at the tips of his fingers uncovered by Leo’s bandaging taunting him.
He couldn’t hide the disdain on his face if he tried.
“..Come here.” He heard his older brother say before he was gently dragged towards a familiar plastron, arms wrapping around his middle, being oh so careful not to aggravate his own torn arms.
All of his brothers’ hugs had some kind of distinct effect on Mikey. Raph’s hugs were the warmest, blanketing him in layers of protection, and Donnie’s rarer hugs were reassuring, reminding him he had people to lean on.
Leo’s hugs were vulnerable. Not just for himself, but for Leo too. They were a promise of safely from a leader, and most importantly to Mikey, an older brother.
Mikey let himself cry again that night, quietly letting his tears soak his orange bandana as he cried into Leo’s plastron. No words were exchanged for a while, just the feeling of Leo rubbing Mikey’s shell was enough to calm him down.
After a while, Mikey spoke, his voice wobbly and croaky. “I hate how these scars look.”
He felt Leo’s head move where he’d perched it atop Mikey’s own. A black-wrapped hand, currently opposed to his own white bandages, tenderly reached for a scarred hand.
“You hate them?” Leo parroted, and Mikey looked up to see just how sad and guilty he looked. “Do you wanna know what I think?”
Leo didn’t wait for an answer. “When I look at these hands, I see the hands that saved me from a lifetime of torture.” Leo looked Mikey in the eyes, gently taking his hand to press a gentle kiss to the back. “The hands of my little brother who creates, and most importantly, keeps us all alive with his amazing cooking.”
That finally drew the laugh from Mikey that Leo was looking for. “I burn the food more than ever nowadays, but you’d all be stuck eating takeout if it wasn’t for me.”
Mikey saw that fond smile reserved for him return to Leo’s face before it fell once more.
“I’m jealous of how you’re able to give love so easily, little brother.” Leo said with as much vulnerability as he could muster.
Mikey chose not to point it out. He knew that would get Leo worked up. “You’re getting better. You’d have never told me that before the invasion.”
“I learned from the best.” Leo replied fondly, nuzzling Mikey’s cheek with his beak, drawing another laugh from the youngest.
All four of the brothers carried their scars. Physically and mentally. They’d have good days, they’d have bad days.
For now, Mikey was content knowing they’d be together for all of it, cuddled in bed with his brother in blue as they drifted into the most peaceful sleep they’d had in weeks.