Chapter Text
One moment Mikey was standing in an alleyway with three of his brothers, yelling at a silent witch. The next, he was fretting over his older brother who had appeared in a flash of tri-colored lightning, covered in dust and blood.
An overwhelming wave of relief had crashed over the three Hamato when their missing brother appeared. Two days of fruitless searching had led to the witch and no other clues, with only one small tug on their ninpo to give them any hope before the spell wore off.
At first, Mikey wasn't sure what to make the whole situation. He was too busy worrying about Donnie's state to even comprehend half of what was hapening until his brother began to explain what had happened in the other timeline. Donnie didn't even seem to notice that his battle shell and goggles were missing, or that he had brand new scars spread across his plastron, bright orange and stretching onto his shoulders. It looked like he'd been grabbed with giant claws, then had his wounds sealed with colored resin.
Mikey could swear they were almost glowing.
Donnie's eyes had changed too. Instead of his usual tired-from-all-nighters or full-of-excited-energy-while-yapping looks, they were hollow. Devoid of energy or emotion.
It took a week before Donnie could even consider sleeping by himself. He used the line between touch-averse and extra-clingy like a jump rope, desperately grabbing for someone's hand one minute, and flinching at arms outstretched for a hug the next. And even when he wanted nobody near him, he clung to the blue scarf he'd arrived in like it was his lifeline. It took much convincing on Splinter's end before he let go of it long enough for the rat to clean it, and he sat in the bathroom with his dad the whole time.
With every passing day, Mikey grew more and more furious at the witch. Yes, he'd defended her after Donnie did, but he'd been lying.
He didn't feel that way. He didn't feel that way at all.
"I am, however, in a butt kicking mood," April declared, one arm around Leo. "Who's coming with me to find that witch?" She stressed the last word, like she'd held herself back from saying something else.
I am, Mikey thought. He hadn't said a whole word as Donnie recanted his story, even when his arms had started to itch at the mention of other-him's scars causing blindness. Not when Leo had to translate his own husband killing him from Donnie's shaky hands, or Raph had flinched at the mention of Big Mama tearing into his ninpo shell. Not even when Splinter's ears had drooped at the mention of the mural.
His words simply weren't working.
"Leave her alone."
Mikey's eyes widened along with everyone else as Donnie mumbled the words. With everything he'd just seen, everything he'd been through- was he being serious?
"It was my fault the potion got messed up and that giant killed her family," he continued, his voice steadier than it had been for the past four hours. "If that had happened to our family, any one of us would've done the same in revenge."
Mikey felt his arms tense up, mystic-energy humming beneath the cracks in his skin.
"That doesn't mean she should get away-" Casey Junior began.
"She's not getting away with it."
Every pair of eyes flicked over to him. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He had to switch tactics- fast.
"She has to deal with her grief, and guilt," Mikey added hastily. "… If she feels any."
"So you agree with him?" Raph asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Mikey.
Mikey fidgeted with his fingers, guilt pooling in his stomach at the falsehood.
"Yeah. I do."
Raph had always been able to tell when Mikey was lying, and this time was no different as his biggest brother opened his mouth to argue- but Donnie cut in first.
"Don't fight me, please," the softshell begged. "We need to focus on preparing for the future I saw."
"I've been thinking about that bit," Junior chimed in. For some reason, he'd been taking notes the entire time. It was a strange habit he'd picked up since coming to their timeline- keeping records of everything. "You said that witch used this spell to send you away?" he asked, setting the notepad on Donnie's lap.
Donnie looked down at the paper, his hollow gaze taking in the words. After a moment he nodded, confirming that Junior had written it down correctly.
"I don't think this future was real," Junior confessed. "See, each line repeats the words 'never was'- or 'almost was' for the last one." He picked up the notebook as he continued explaining.
"And you said in that timeline you’d disappeared, right? But you’re here. You’re back. And I don’t think this future is ever going to happen in our timeline.”
Raph reached for the notebook and CJ let him take it. Raph read through the words before Leo took the notebook, then Splinter, then April, and finally Mikey.
Draxum had taught him a lot about spells, and at his request, parallel universes. This future was still a very plausible one if Donnie ever disappeared. If they hadn't been able to pull him back, Mikey was almost positive they would've fallen apart, just as Donnie had described.
But he wasn't going to say that out loud.
"He's right," Mikey said instead, ignoring Raph's gaze. "Me and Draxum haven't focused on verbal spells much in our sessions, but he did say the wording is just as important as the intent."
The witch had intended to send him to a plausible future. The same as it almost was.
"The same as it never was," he read, tracing his finger along the words. "The same, as in our universe and our people, but as it never was. This future will never happen to us."
He'd make sure of that.
"Are you sure?" Raph asked, his eyes boring a hole in Mikey's shell. Mikey nodded.
Of course not.
"Positive."
Donnie's sigh of relief as his body relaxed, sinking onto the bed, made the lie worth it.
That night it took a while for Donnie to fall asleep. Just like the night before, he was unable to relax until they'd been properly turtle-piled. Mikey made sure he was as close to his brother as possible. He wouldn't let Donnie go, like he had the previous night on accident. He was never going to leave Donnie, the way they'd all left him in the other world.
The witch hadn't said a single word until Donnie had arrived, but Mikey remembered every other detail about her. The way her black and pink hair swooped down over her face, only two of her three eyes poking out. The jagged horns protruding from her head, splintered and cracked. The robe she wore, the book she'd held, and even the empty look in her eyes.
The way she hadn't struggled against his chains, simply looked down in exhaustion and sighed.
An hour later, Donnie had reappeared in a flash of tri-colored light.
The feeling of Donnie's ninpo had rushed over Mikey, changing from a barely-humming tingle in his fingertips to an overwhelming wave of purple, nearly blinding him.
And Mikey would make sure that feeling never disappeared again.
The first week was a blur. Donnie barely spoke, resorting to chirps and signing most of the time. Mikey cooked and Dr. Feelings'd, Leo and Splinter did their best to handle the medical aspect, and Raph fussed over them all.
Two weeks in, Mikey was tired of waiting. Donnie had finally slept by himself for the first time, only to be woken up by nightmares, screaming his head off. The entire family had rushed in, doing their best to console him.
It had taken three hours for him to fall back asleep.
The next night a turtle pile was agreed upon silently, pillows and blankets piled together in Donnie's bedroom.
Mikey almost fell asleep himself, waiting for everyone else to doze off. Raph was the first to go, his rumbling snores filling the room. Leo was second, dozing off shortly after Raph despite his complaints about his big brother's snoring. And Donnie was last, his body finally relaxing and sinking into the land of dreams.
Manuvering out of the turtle-pile was easy enough, especially since his arms hadn't been aching today. The glowing orange marks hidden beneath his pajama shirt were a constant reminder of the day of the invasion, which is why he usually kept them hidden beneath compression sleeves or arm wraps. But now he had another reminder of them: the orange marks on Donnie's shoulders.
Mikey hadn't asked, and Donnie hadn't explained. In his recounting of the other timeline he had mentioned Gus pinning him down, but nothing else that could've caused what looked like mystically-healed wounds.
As Mikey walked past the bed and towards the door, he ghosted a hand over Donnie's plastron, feeling for mystic energy. Sure enough, there was a strong mystic signature. One he found very familiar.
His own.
But… not exactly his own. A little different. Older, stronger. Instead of the raging fire he found within himself, it was more controlled. A blaze as opposed to an inferno.
There was fury shrouded in a warning etched into the magic, but Mikey ignored it and kept walking.
First he stopped by his own room, ditching the pajamas in exchange for his usual attire- straps across his torso to hold his nunchaku, black shorts, and wraps around his legs. Despite having a 'good arm day' he slipped on the compression sleeves and put painkillers in his belt pouch. If his plan worked, he'd most definitely need them.
Then he headed towards his desk, scribbling down a quick note.
"got up for a snack and we're out of cookies! brb 🧡" read the note, signed with a heart in his classic orange color.
His final stop before leaving was the kitchen, pin his note to the fridge and make sure that they were in fact out of cookies. There were only a couple left in the jar, so Mikey promptly stuffed them into his mouth before heading towards the exit.
As he walked through the sewers, he could hear noise from the tunnels leading towards the surface. Topside was quiet- well, as quiet as it could be for nighttime in New York, but Mikey wasn't going through those tunnels. He took a left instead of a right, heading for a different city. This one was filled with yokai rather than humans, kept hidden beneath New York by a mystic veil.
After some very heavy convincing (and lots of puppy-eyes) on Mikey's part, Draxum had eventually relented and showed them an access point hidden within the sewers. It was a short walk away from their train-station home, disguised as a rusting set of turnstiles leading towards a collapsed tunnel. Mikey placed his hand over the shattered sensor, the screen lighting up as it recognized his mystic signature. He walked straight through the now-glowing rubble, ending up near a wishing-fountain.
He recognized the fountain from the Hamato's first big venture into the Hidden City. It was where he'd made the wish for Splinter and Draxum to get along, while Splinter handed Draxum over to the police behind him.
Thankfully it had all worked out in the end.
This time, Mikey wasn't heading out for a family trip. This time he had a very different goal in mind.
It was a long walk to the alleyway, but a short walk to Witch Town, so Mikey started walking in that direction first. Only Donnie had been banned from the normally peaceful village- Mikey wasn't even sure the other witches knew about the rest of the family.
He paused at the archway, taking in the view. Witch Town was still full of yokai moving every which way, despite the late hour. Mikey scanned the crowd as he manuvered through it, every glimpse of pink or sighting of horns only leading to disappointment.
An hour later Mikey found himself in a section of witch town that looked very different from the rest of the village. Bright green cracks snaked through the buildings, glowing the same hue as Empyrean. The buildings reminded him of the art form where pottery was shattered and then glued together with gold paint, a reminder of the fractured mess it used to be.
Mikey knew for certain this was where the giant had stomped through, destroying homes.
Destroying the witch's family.
The witch herself was nowhere to be seen. Every single yokai surrounding him seemed to have moved on from the attack, going about their lives as if it was a memory of the past. And, Mikey supposed, for most of them it was.
He'd just resigned himself to heading all the way back to the alleyway when he spotted a familiar figure in the corner of his eye. It wasn't the witch, or even another yokai. Instead it was a human with short black hair hair, shaven on the sides with the tops beginning to grow out into what looked like the beginnings of a mohawk.
She had a modified hockey stick hefted over one shoulder, a muscle tank and cargo pants over combat boots completing the outfit. Her eyes scanned the area with the same calculating look Mikey could only imagine he'd held a few moments ago, clearly looking for something… or someone.
Before Mikey could decide whether to approach her or not, Casey spotted him. Their gazes aligned, blue eyes meeting brown.
Without warning she dashed over, scooping him up in a Raph-worthy bear hug, hockey stick and all.
"Ack- Casey-! Can't breathe-!" Mikey choked out, his airway indeed being crushed between his plastron and carapace.
The ex-foot recruit finally let him go, patting his shell as he caught his breath.
"My apologies!" Casey barked, planting her hocket stick on the ground like a spear. "I was simply excited to see you!"
" 'S all good Casey," Mikey responded, still catching his breath. "What are you doing out here?"
In a split-second the smile disappeared from her face. Lines etched anger and worry in between her eyes, akin to Raph's worry chasm.
"My future-spawn informed me of what happened to Donatello," she replied. "I have been hunting the witch for weeks! I will not let this attack go unanswered."
Her eyes flicked downwards, taking in his appearance. "Are you here for vengenace as well? We shall hunt together!"
"Shhh- keep it down!" Mikey hissed, motioning frantically with his hands as her volume ticked upwards again. "The others don't know I'm here. Donnie doesn't want anyone to go after the witch."
"Yes. Junior said as much," Casey agreed. She paused, tilting her head. "He also said that you agreed."
Mikey felt guilt pool in his stomach. "I… I did say that, didn't I?"
Casey studied him for a moment before hefting the hockey stick over her shoulder again. "Do you have the means to locate her?"
Tension uncoiled in Mikey's shoulders. She wasn't going to argue. She was going to help.
"I could do a locator spell if I had something of hers," he mused. "But since I don't I was just planning to walk around here or the alleyway where we found her and hope she'd show up." Mikey glanced around the street. "I haven't seen her here so…"
"To the alleyway!" Casey declared, raising a fist in the air and beginning to march down the sidewalk.
Internally Mikey sighed. She was going the wrong way.
Two more hours of walking later, the pair made it to the alleyway. It sat a few miles away from the field where the turtles had watched a movie together, sitting on a blanket spread over grass with popcorn in their hands. Close enough to the venue that a portal jacker could be accurate, while not using up much energy.
They allway itself wasn't anything special. Just an enclosed space shadowed by the buildings creating its walls, graffiti sprayed on the sides. It no longer smelled like vomit or blood.
The energy of the alley was a different story. Mikey shivered as him and Casey walked inside. The remnants from whatever spell the witch had cast scraped over his shell and sent a chill down his spine.
Casey didn't seem affected, but as long as Mikey had known her she hadn't seemed to be the most mystically inclined.
"See anything?" Mikey asked, squinting as he tried to spot any clues in the dark alleyway.
From somewhere in her numerous pockets, Casey pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on. The beam of light swept around them, eventually settling on an open book laying discarded on the ground. Mikey walked over and knelt down beside it, slowly waving a hand over it to feel for mystic energy. He could feel a faint residual from the witch, and a heavier residual from the spell she'd used. The biggest thing he noticed was the dampness emanating from the pages.
"It must've rained yesterday," he muttered, carefully picking up the damp spellbook.
"Can you track the witch with it?" Casey asked, an anxious edge to her voice. Just like April, it sounded like she almost hadn't said the word 'witch.'
"Yes, I can," Mikey said, reaching into his belt pouch for his… nonexistent chalk. He muttered words Raph would not have approved of as he patted his belt, coming up empty. "Or not."
Walking back to the lair to grab the chalk and then finding somewhere secluded for the spell would take too long. He'd already been out of the lair far too long for his alleged cookie run.
Mikey felt anger bubbling up in himself at the thought of having to wait another day, a rather unfamiliar feeling. Sure he'd been angry before, but this kind of fury was different. Unwelcome. He stamped down the feeling and took a deep breath.
"I can grab the stuff for the spell and meet you back here tomorrow night?" Mikey offered. To his disappointment Casey frowned, picking at the tape wrapped around the handle of her hockey stick.
"Tomorrow is bonding night with my offspring. I'm teaching him the noble sport of hockey," she answered. "How about the day after?"
Mikey was about to agree when a thought crossed his mind. "Ah shell, that's family movie night. Can't skip out on that without a valid excuse."
"Then in two nights we shall find the witch!" Casey declared. "And make her pay."
Mikey nodded in agreement. He could wait two nights. He could pretend that he was okay for two nights.
It was a long walk back to the lair, but Mikey barely noticed the distance, caught up in his own thoughts. By the time he made it to the sewer entrance, the sun had began to rise. Beams of light poked over the tall buildings as Mikey descended into the darkness.
He sprinted through the tunnels, fully aware that he'd stayed out too long for a cookie run. And to make matters worse, he had forgotten all about the cookies.
Mikey slowed to a jog as he neared the lair entrance, turning his head this way and that to listen for signs of movement. His ninja training came in handy as he snuck into his bedroom to deposit the spell book, then the kitchen where his note lay undisturbed on the fridge.
Mikey quickly yanked it down and stuffed it into his belt. He could hear faint footsteps from somewhere else in the lair, growing louder by the second. By the sound of it, Raph was walking towards the kitchen.
By the time the snapping turtle reached the kitchen, Mikey had bread in the toaster and eggs sizzling in a frying pan. He whistled softly as he cooked, whipping the eggs with a fork to scramble them.
"You're up early," Raph commented, his large tail slithering on the floor behind him as he walked.
"Not that early," Mikey argued. "Its only…"
He glanced up at the clock, wincing when he realized what time it was. "… 5:30."
"Only?" Raph asked, eyes narrowed. "The last time you got up before seven was when Donnie convinced us all to watch the Nobel Prizes be announced."
"Woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep," Mikey shrugged, poking the eggs with a spatula.
He could feel Raph's gaze digging into the back of his head as he cooked. Before Raph could say anything, Leo interrupted by walking in, Donnie close behind.
Raph and Mikey both straightened up at the sight of Donnie, wearing his mask and wrapped in the blue cloak, cleaned by Splinter the day before. He hadn't had any major visible injuries, just some cuts and scrapes that were still bandaged, but it was still a shock seeing him walk around so casually.
"Mornin' guys!" Mikey chirped, distributing eggs onto three plates. "Don, is scrambled eggs alright?" he asked, glancing over.
Donnie glanced over at the pan, hesitating before shaking his head. The toaster dinged as the bread popped up.
"Just toast it is then," Mikey nodded, scooping the rest of the eggs onto Raph's plate. "We've got cereal too if you- don't you dare," Mikey snapped, pointing the spatula at Leo, who had just reached for the toaster. "I will not have you wreck another toaster!"
"Oh c'mon, it was only like…" Leo paused his complaining to count on his fingers. "Three times."
"That's three times too many," Mikey informed the slider, jabbing his arm with the spatula. "Go sit down."
"Yes chef," Leo chuckled, taking his seat beside Donnie.
As Mikey passed out plates, Leo pulled out his phone and began scrolling through some random app. Once all the food was passed out (and Donnie had obtained a bowl of Lucky Charms without milk) Leo set his phone down, quickly getting absorbed in his eggs and toast. His lock screen lit up with a slew of notifications from the previous day, all from the same sender.
"You ghostin' Usagi?" Raph asked, also noticing the unread messages.
Donnie stared down at his cereal, combing through the grains to find the marshmallows. He still hadn't said anything.
"I'm not…" Leo began, trailing off at Mikey's questioning expression. "It's fine. Kinda. I just…" He glanced at Donnie, looking slightly guilty. "It's nothing."
"Oh c'mon," Raph cut in. "Even Raph knows that's a lie."
"There's nothing going on," Leo insisted, his shoulders tensing. "I'm not ghosting him."
"That's a lot of unread messages," Mikey pointed out.
"Yeah, well it's kinda weird trying to date a guy when you learned about a doomed yaoi plot in an alternate timeline," Leo snapped. He immediately paled, turning towards Donnie. "That sounded bad. I didn't- I'm sorry- I didn't mean…"
Without a word, Donnie picked up his bowl and walked off.
Leo buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Aaaand that's why I didn't wanna say anything."
Mikey fidgeted with his arm wraps as Raph glanced down at his plate, looking guilty.
"Ah… Raph shouldn't 'a pushed you," he muttered, shoving the eggs around his plate. " 's my fault."
"It's not your fault, Raphie," Mikey admonished. "It's no one's fault," he added, looking pointedly at Leo. "I'll go talk to him."
Leaving the now silent kitchen behind, Mikey walked in the same direction Donnie had. After wandering through the lair for a little bit, he found Don in an alcove underneath some stairs, sifting through the bowl in his lap.
"Mind if I join you?" Mikey asked, only recieving a shrug in response. Taking that as a yes, he squeezed himself into the cubbyhole with his big brother.
"It's not your fault," he said softly. Donnie just stared down at his handful of mini marshmallows.
"I'm serious," Mikey insisted. "It's not your-"
"OF COURSE IT'S MY FAULT!" Donnie yelled, upending the cereal bowl and startling Mikey so bad he popped into his shell. Donnie didn't seem to notice, his ensuing rant muffled for his little brother.
"I told him about what happened in the other timeline, and it's my fault that Usagi killed him in the first place! If I'd never let him up- shell, if I'd never made that dumb plan in the first place, none of that would've happened! You would've all pulled me back, and none of you would have died in the other timeline and I don't care what you say about it I'm just so sure that it's going to happen and I can't let it happen and-"
Mikey popped out of his shell, immediately enveloping Donnie in a hug. His yelling dissolved into tears as he hugged Mikey back, the softshell shaking with every sob.
"I w-wish I hadn't…" Donnie began, his hands curling into fists on Mikey's shell. "I wish I hadn't told him. I wish I hadn't told any of you what went- what happened. He's never able- gonna look at Usagi the s-same way again…"
"Don't say that," Mikey said firmly, gripping Donnie's shoulders lightly. "You don't know-"
"Yes, I do!" Donnie snapped. "I already see it! He ignores every text, he won't talk to me, I can't… I can't even tell him I'm sorry," he gasped, clutching at the blue cape.
Mikey wrapped him up in another hug as the cries continued, the words 'I'm sorry' echoing over and over again in their alcove as Donnie repeated them through his sobs.
It took a while for Donnie to calm down. Thankfully the others hadn't come looking for them. Mikey knew Donnie didn't want to be seen like that. So Mikey grabbed a fresh, not tear-stained mask for his brother, tossed the other one in a laundry basket, and waited patiently for him to finish the cereal. Only half of the cereal had remained in the bowl, and Donnie couldn't even finish that, but it was better than nothing. Once the softshell was stable enough they headed back to the kitchen. Leo opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp look from Mikey cut him off.
Raph and Leo had finished their breakfast a while ago, evidently waiting for their brothers to return. Mikey started on the dishes, scrubbing away the remnants of egg and butter from the frying pan. Leo stayed behind to help, but the other two left.
"So… um," Leo began, looking sheepish.
"It's fine, Leo. It's not your fault," Mikey answered automatically. "You're not to blame for what happened in that other timeline."
"Okay, but-"
"Just stop, Leo," he interrupted. "You can't change what happened. No one can," he added, his words bitter.
"Can you at least take a chill pill before you scrub a hole in that pan?" Leo chuckled.
Mikey looked down in surprise, realizing that he had in fact been scrubbing the pan as if it personally wronged him. He set it down and shook out his hands, trying to get the tense muscles to relax.
"I'll finish up in here, you go relax," Leo offered, picking up the pan and sponge. "No arguing. You cooked, I'll clean."
Mikey couldn't argue with that logic (at least not without making a bit stink about it), so he took the opportunity to retreat to his room and study the spellbook. To his dismay, it was still damp. He was scared of opening it in case the pages ripped, so he carefully set it aside and grabbed one of his own spellbooks.
"Let's see… fire, no it'll catch. Maybe a hair dryer…? Nah, pops wouldn't let me borrow his without a good reason. Reversal… that's dangerous with a magic object. Hm… Oh, here we go."
Mikey ran his finger down the page, skimming the instructions and warnings. The only thing he had to be cautious of was overusing it, but the spell seemed otherwise effective. A spell meant for drying clothes, but it could be easily adjusted to fix up the book. (The only problem was the time it would take- a couple hours. Mikey would've given up and just air dried it instead if the spell hadn't promised to 'dry without damage.')
Mikey internally thanked the pizza supreme in the sky numerous times for the lack of pain or tremors in his hands as he traced the runes in the corner of his room, placing the book in the center. A gentle warm air began to blow as he activated the spell, the chalk glowing on the ground.
A couple of well-placed beanbags hid the glow, and if anyone asked he could just say he was cold and turned the heat up a tad. No one would know.
The rest of the day came and went without anything else going wrong. Mikey went skating through the sewer tunnels, Raph finished knitting Junior a blanket, and Leo and Donnie watched a movie together with only a slightly awkward air between them before splitting to do separate activities. Splinter cooked dinner, which was mostly eaten in silence. Donnie still didn't want to sleep alone, but this time he approached Raph first instead of Leo. Their biggest brother gently wrapped an arm around the softshell and led him to the pillow nest that served as his bed.
As Mikey trudged off towards his train car, his phone buzzed. He opened a message that Casey had sent to the groupchat as he plopped down onto his hammock, one leg hanging over the edge as he swung gently.
The picture enclosed showed both Caseys, standing on a skating rink with ice skates and hockey sticks. Casey held up her son's arm, a triumphant grin on her face. Junior looked happy as well. A little embarrassed, but happy.
Mikey smiled as he clicked off his phone. At least Junior was getting used to their world, and having fun while doing it.
Still exhausted from his outing the previous night, Mikey dropped off into sleep within minutes.
Sometime during the night Mikey had migrated onto the pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, strategically positioned due to the many times he had rolled out of hammock in his sleep. It also came in handy in the event of a sleepover or turtle pile.
The downside that came with this movement, was that Mikey either hadn't woken up, or hadn't been awake enough to remember moving. And in either case, he'd been too asleep to register the position he slept in.
So Mikey woke up as pins and needles shot up down arms, heading for his fingers resting between the pillowed nest and his plastron.
"Nonononono," Mikey muttered, frantically trying to rub feeling back into his hands. At every touch he winced, stabbing sensations in his palms.
After a few minutes the tingling faded, but the aching did not. It was all too familiar, the soreness, the trembling, the pain simmering beneath the cracks. Today was going to be a bad arm day, as such occasions had been dubbed.
And it couldn't have happened at a worse time.
The book sat on smudged chalk, the spell having long since deactivated. The pages were warm, as if freshly out a printer, but scalding to Mikey's fingers. Even flipping a page made him hiss in pain. He ended up using his foot to kick the book back into the corner of the room, staring at his trembling hands in defeat.
Getting dressed was a struggle Mikey did not want to face, so he simply trudged out to the kitchen in his pajamas. Leo was already there, sitting on a chair as a kettle of water slowly boiled on the stove.
"Mornin' Mikester," Leo chirped, swinging his legs. "What's for breakfast today?"
Mikey winced. "Um- whatever you make."
Leo looked up in surprise. "Bad arm day?" He guessed.
"Yeah," Mikey sighed, staring at the fridge handle.
"Lemme get that for you," Leo offered, jumping out of his seat and jogging over. "You sit down, I'll make breakfast."
"We all know that's a kitchen fire waiting to happen," Raph cut in from the doorway. "I'll make breakfast."
"Thanks Raphie," Mikey sighed in relief. He sat at the table and put his forehead down.
The smell and sound of frying bacon soon filled the room, as well as the sound of something mixing in a bowl. Mikey was too tired to lift up his head and see what Raph was mixing. His arms rested gently in his lap, held still for fear of aggravating the dull pain radiating through his scars. The food sizzling acted like a white noise machine, helping Mikey drift back off into sleep.
"Donnie?" Leo asked in the lair, turning to face the portal. Raph had walked through, carrying the blanket. Mikey had walked through, stretching his arms. But Donnie hadn't walked through.
"Maybe he dropped his phone again?" Leo wondered aloud, poking his head back through the portal. The other side was empty, only discarded wrappers and forgotten blankets on the green.
"No- he walked through before me," Mikey answered. He saw the edges of the portal wavering, about to close, and yanked Leo back by the holster. "Careful," Mikey warned. "You'll lose an arm or something."
"Ay dios mío, did Donnie get portal jacked again?" the slider complained, ignoring Mikey and favoring one leg as the portal dissolved. "We should go check down by the docks."
"Raph will go check down by the docks," their biggest brother corrected. "You two are gonna go get Leo's leg stuff set up."
"It's not that bad," Leo complained, but Raph's stern look shut him up.
"You two are gonna go get Leo's leg stuff set up," Raph repeated. "Portal me to the- actually, I'll take a shell cycle," he corrected. "You need rest."
Raph's 'arguing is useless' stink wafted through the air as Leo rolled his eyes. "Fiiiiine. Smack Don upside the head for me, alright?"
~~
"I can't believe he got lost like that," Leo muttered, sprawled out on a cot as Mikey hunted through the medbay for supplies. Donnie was the one who knew his way around this place- and he wasn't there. So Mikey had to open every cabinet, scour every shelf, and rummage through every container in hopes he'd find the supplies posted on the handy 'Leo's Leg Supplies' list. The paper hung on the wall, silently mocking Mikey in his fruitless attempts to find the listed materials.
"You sure you don't need any help, hermanito?" Leo asked, sitting up taller to take a look around the room.
"Nope!" Mikey called back. "I can do this before Raph gets back with Donnie. You, sir, are going to rest!" he added, a hint of Dr. Delicate Touch creeping into his voice.
"Nothing wrong with asking for help, Miguel," Leo shrugged, not laying back down. "You're still the littlest brother. And your arms-"
"I told you, I can do this," Mikey snapped.
"Orange?"
"Hm?" Mikey asked looking over.
"Wake up."
"What?"
His voice was deeper, with an accent. Definitely not Leo's.
"Wake up."
Mikey jolted awake, almost hitting his head on the countertop. A twinge of pain ran up his arms, making him hiss.
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you," Splinter said sheepishly. His hands were held out as if he'd meant to grab Mikey. Mikey was grateful for the hesitation. His arms already hurt enough.
"I woke you because breakfast is ready," his father explained, taking a seat at the counter with his sons. Raphael slid a plate over to Mikey, then passed out food to everyone else.
Michelangelo stared down at the plate. Strips of bacon, scrambled eggs. A piece of toast.
It was a normal breakfast. An easy breakfast. Something he'd made a million times before. Something he'd eaten a million times before.
"Do you need help?" Leo offered, his own plate already half empty. How long had Mikey been staring at the food?
"No, it's fine. It's just breakfast," Mikey replied. His hand shook slightly as he picked up the fork, stabbing a piece of the eggs. The pain wasn't that bad, or so he told himself. He was very aware that everyone else was watching as he continued to take shaky bites of food.
The rest of breakfast reminded Mikey of an anime Donnie had once watched, where the 'law of equivalent exchange' was a heavy theme. In exchange for emptying the plate, his arms hurt and shook worse.
Finally, finally, only the slice of toast remained. Mikey was doing his best to hide any reaction to his throbbing arms, but it was too much. So he let his arms sit in his lap and just picked up the toast with his mouth, biting off a piece and letting the rest fall back onto his plate.
Raph, chewing on a mask tail while rinsing off his plate, hadn't noticed. Leo, staring at his plate while his phone buzzed, hadn't noticed.
Donnie, however, was staring at him with a resigned expression. He shook his head, mask tails waving behind him as he sighed.
"I'll take that," Donnie said the second Mikey finished his toast, taking the empty plate before his younger brother could argue. Mikey just slumped down in his seat.
A thought occured to him as he watched Leo and Raph leave, Donnie rinsing dishes in the sink.
If his arms still hurt tomorrow, how would he do the locating spell? If the witch fought, how would he defend himself? How would he even-?
"Michael?"
Donnie's voice snapped Mikey out of his thoughts.
"Yeah Don?"
"Come with me," he said, offering no other explanation before turning and walking away.
Mikey sighed and slid off his chair, his arms hanging limp at his sides as he followed the softshell through the train station and towards his lab.
He perked up as they entered, walking behind his brother. Donnie had always favored solitude in his laboratory, often kicking out his brothers in search of a silent workspace without distractions. He'd let Mikey stay in a few times, while they worked on different projects in tandem, but usually quietly. Sometimes he'd ramble, sometimes he'd listen to Mikey rambling, but those moments were far and few between.
"What's that?" Mikey asked, peeking over Donnie's shouder at the orange box he'd pulled from a shelf.
Donnie startled, not having realized how close Mikey was. "I meant to have these finished last week but… stuff, happened," he finished, his grip tightening slightly on the cardboard. "Here."
He turned and was about to hand the box to Mikey before a glance at the trembling arms made him think better of it. Instead, he set the box on a nearby desk and flipped open the top.
Inside were two black gloves, a similar color to the wraps they'd all been wearing since unlocking their ninpo. At first glance, there wasn't anything special about them. But the inflatable suit Donnie had once made him was still somewhere in the back of Mikey's mind, so he studied the gift warily.
"Don't worry Michael, there's no shock collar or razzmatazz blocking or helpful planning assistant," Donnie assured him. "I learned my lesson. Here, let me help you get these on."
Mikey sat down at the desk, holding up his arms and allowing Donnie to roll up his sleeves. Despite his attempt at gentleness, every soft touch felt like pins and needles stabbing his skin. While putting the gloves on was a similar experience, the inner lining of the gloves was unbelievably soft. It felt like wearing a cloud.
"Alright, they're on!" Donnie said triumphantly. He tapped at a few things on his wrist display. "On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain and ten being you're actively making a portal, how bad is the pain right now?"
Mikey examined the gloves, thinking it over. Yes, it hurt, but it wasn't the worst bad arm day he'd had…
"Maybe a three?" he tried. Donnie glared pointedly.
"You ate part of your breakfast without using your hand," he reminded his little brother.
"Okay, a five," Mikey admitted.
Donnie tapped at his wrist display some more, and glowing green lines arced up and down the gloves. Mikey looked at them in surprise- they looked like veins.
"Donnie what is- oh wow."
His question was cut off as a soothing feeling covered his arms. The pain subsided, a feeling of relief akin to finally laying down after a long day of running and jumping and flipping and just generally being on one's feet.
"What is this stuff?" he asked, almost crying in relief.
"It's a special mixture infused with an empyrean-like substance that Draxum helped me to create," Donnie informed him. "Like a pain relief humidifier for your arms. You've got a panel on the gloves as well, so you can activate it yourself. Simply tell it the pain level, and it will administer the correct amount."
"Donnie?" Mikey asked, standing up while staring at his arms in amazement.
"Yes, Mikey?"
"I'm gonna hug you now," Mikey informed his brother. It took restraint not to just tackle hug him right then and there, but he knew Donnie would appreciate a heads up.
"Yes yes, bring it in," Donnie sighed, opening his arms.
Mikey wrapped him up in the tightest hug he could manage, which was tighter than usual thanks to the gift. Somehow the hug felt a little emptier without the feeling of a metal claw patting his head- and he realized Donnie still wasn't wearing his battle shell as finally pulled away. The orange scars were bright and visible on his plastron and shoulders.
A quick glance up at the wall showed him that there were in fact multiple battle shells, still intact. The one Donnie had been wearing when he'd disappeared was gone, but it was the normal one. The spider shell was still intact, as well as the jetpack and a couple others.
A half-finished grey and blue one on a workbench beneath the hanging shells caught Mikey's attention, and he walked over.
"Is this for Leo?" he asked reaching towards it.
"Don't," Donnie said quickly. Mikey froze.
"It's not done yet. If you're not careful it could cut or shock you," he added.
"Ah. Good to know," Mikey replied, withdrawing his hand. There was a few more moments of silence before Donnie walked over to the workbench and sat down.
"I'm going to start working on these now," he announced, pulling half-finished goggles out of a nearby box. Mikey nodded, sitting across from him and resting his head in his hands.
Donnie grabbed a tiny screwdriver and began doing… something sciency, Mikey guessed. After a few minutes he looked up and stared at Mikey.
"What?" Mikey asked. Donnie kept staring, and for a second, Mikey thought he was about to get kicked out.
But Donnie just answered "Nothing" and went back to working on his goggles.
Mikey wiggled his fingers, admiring the lack of pain. The green glow still held strong, the light emitting whatever healing concoction Donnie and Draxum had whipped up.
The gloves failed to hold Mikey's attention for long, and his gaze began to wander. First over the wall of inventions, the rows of battle shells, and then the half-finished battle shell for Leo sitting next to Donnie. Then he watched his brother work on the goggles for a bit, but his gaze slowly shifted up to the orange scars. Donnie still hadn't explained them- and Mikey still hadn't asked.
Donnie didn't notice him staring, but the questions were eating away at Mikey. What had happened? Was it from Gus? Why was it orange? Why were his battle shell and goggles gone? Why wasn't he wearing one of his other battle shells?
"That's your 'I have too many questions and don't know which one to ask look'," Donnie pointed out, bringing Mikey out of his thoughts. (He'd been zoning out a lot today… weird.)
"What are you talking about?" he responded, chuckling nervously. "That's just my regular look."
The softshell set down his goggles and raised an eyebrow at Mikey, who shifted nervously in his seat.
"Oh please, for every Raph-stink there's a Mikey look. You've got the 'big art idea you must put on paper immediately look', the 'oh no I've been caught getting a midnight snack again look,' the 'don't you dare touch my kitchen' look, and this one," Donnie informed him, counting on his fingers. "Need I go on?"
"No," Mikey muttered. He pushed on the edge of the table leaning back in his chair. "I do have questions, I just… don't wanna make you think about the answers," he admitted.
Donnie went eerily still in his chair, his grip on the screwdriver tightening.
"Can I ask my questions?" Mikey asked tentatively. "It's fine if you don't wanna-"
"I don't remember how I got them," Donnie interrupted, taking a short breath and setting down the screwdriver. Mikey froze.
"These, right? You were going to ask about them?" Donnie asked, shifting the scarf to the side to make the orange marks more visible. "Or why my shell didn't come back with me?"
Well, there was no denying it. Maybe his face was that readable.
"Yeah. Pretty much exactly that," Mikey sighed. "And why you haven't been wearing a battle shell since."
"Like I said, I don't know exactly what happened. I have my theories, but a lot of the fight is a blur," Donnie said softly, his eyes unfocusing. Mikey wondered if he knew that he was trembling. "I could look, of course, but…"
Mikey straightened up. "Wait, what? You can- huh?"
Donnie tapped on his wrist to bring up the purple screen, then hesitated. "Everything was recorded. I have… I have files of the whole fight."
Mikey sucked in a breath. "You have- how?!"
"My goggles got lost in the witch's portal, but my shell and DonniePad™ still have recording software in them," Donnie answered, motioning to the device on his wrist. "And my battle-shell got… well, it's gone, but my DonniePad still has the rest of the data. Not just video either," he added, standing up. "There's energy readings, charts about the mystic energy I encountered, files on every person I met and everything I saw and even files on the-"
"Donnie, take a breath," Mikey implored, gently putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You're shaking." The softshell had been waving his arms wildly as he ranted, his breathing getting faster and more frantic, but now he stilled.
"I'm sorry," Donnie muttered, lowering his arms. "It's… data collection. It-"
"-Calms you down, yes, but I don't think it's helping this time," Mikey cut in. "Take a breath."
He lead Donnie through a simple breathing exercise, in and out, tracing a square on the table. Once he'd calmed down, he tapped a few things on the DonniePad. Mikey looked down in surprise as a purple square lit up above his left glove.
"You can watch it, if you want," Donnie said quietly. "I… don't think I can. Not yet."
"Are you sure you're okay with me-?" Mikey began, but Donnie squared up his shoulders and nodded.
"I am curious as to how this happened as well. I didn't even notice them until… yeah…" he finished, words trailing off as his shoulders drooped. "Can I um… space?"
"You sure?" Mikey asked. Donnie nodded, words obviously failing him at the moment. Mikey waved the purple screen on his own DonniePad away before heading towards the exit.
As he reached the doorframe he glanced back at his brother. He was focused on the goggles again, but Mikey could still see the tears pricking in his eyes and the subtle tremor in his shoulders.
And Mikey turned, and walked away.
He headed straight to his room, eager to flip through the spellbook now that his hands weren't hurting. Maybe he could find the spell the witch used, and figure out how to prevent that future.
The book was still sitting in the corner of the room where he'd kicked it, the cover flipped open and resting against the wall. He picked it up and sat against the wall, his hammock and pillow-pile creating a small alcove. The new gloves covering his fingers didn't stop him from shivering as he picked up the book, the foreign mystic energy enveloping him.
The cover felt like leather, a dragon like creature embossed on it. It wasn't a normal dragon though- it had one dragon-like arm and one human arm, tekko-kagi attached. Two limbs beneath the arm provided wings, and a second face stuck out of the stomach.
It looks like a human and a dragon fused, Mikey realized, sticking his tongue out at the weird scene.
"Alright you," he muttered, sitting on the ground and opening the spellbook in his lap. "Where's the spell that witch used, hm?"
As if it could hear him, the pages fluttered. He watched in amazement as they flipped back and forth, eventually settling on a page near the middle. Ink covered the page, detailed drawings surrounding the spell. It was the same, word for word, as Donnie had recanted.
Drawings of strange looking turtle creatures and dragons bordered the page, with a faint imprint of a scepter of some sort in the middle. Mikey leaned forward, studying the pictures closer. They seemed familiar in an unfamiliar way, like the faint memory of a dream. He leaned closer to the page, eyes flicking over the runes. They were drawing him in, inviting him to use the spell.
"Do it. You know she deserves it."
Mikey's head shot up, the book already slammed shut and tossed against the wall. What was that? The book had… spoken to him?
He shook his head, attempting to clear it. That was silly. Books didn't talk.
This time, as he flipped the book open, he made sure to keep it at arms length. Instead of going back to the spell the witch had used, he went page by page. There were plenty of powerful spells contained in the book, like a curse to make someone's entire family hate them, or rituals for spirit mediums. There wasn't just spells, either. Information about magical artifacts, like an amber pendant that could curse someone out of their body, or the 'Sword of Tengu,' whatever that was, filled a good section of the book. Leaving the book laying in the alleyway was something any self-respecting mystic user would never do…
"So why did you get left behind?" Mikey muttered aloud, carefully turning another page. A summoning ritual filled this page, drawings of crudely carved wooden turtles on one side and a blind wolf on the other.
"Ally summoning spells?" he mused. "That could come in handy I suppose…"
He turned the page again, only to be met with a ginormous list of warnings and side effects.
"Well that's a no," Mikey muttered, sticking his tongue out, when a thought occured to him.
"Where'd it… aha!" He grinned triumphantly, finding the witch's spell once more. He flipped to the next page, expecting a similar mile-long list of warnings, but the page was mostly empty. Only a couple of lines of caution in a strangely familiar script lay near the top, the rest empty.
Translating the Draletic script took a moment, but Mikey's lessons with Draxum were coming in handy. It was a short warning, but ominous enough that Mikey shuddered. What kind of toll did this spell take on someone?
He remembered how she hadn't said anything until Donnie had reappeared, allowing herself to be bound in his chains without a struggle. An hour of silence, broken only by a small sigh right as Donnie had formed right in front of them, covered in blood and dust. She'd acted almost calm until Donnie had shown back up, snapping and taunting him until they'd had to drag Donnie away, Raph pinning him down like a feral animal. As they'd portaled away Mikey had glanced back at the witch, fury rising in his chest. He'd walked through the portal, leaving her chained up in the alleyway.
Mikey shook himself out of the memory, carefully shutting the book in his lap. He hadn't been surprised that she was gone when him and Casey returned to the alleyway (his chains only lasted so long if he wasn't focusing), but the spellbook being left behind still bothered him. Surely there was a spell in here that lessened the effects of whatever side-effects she was currently dealing with?
Every page he flipped through squashed that thought. The spells got darker and darker, to the point where each illustration only added to the nausea rising in Mikey's stomach. Eventually he couldn't handle it anymore, slamming the book shut and taking deep breaths to avoid puking.
"Hey Mikester, you in your room?"
Raph's voice carried from around the corner, making Mikey jump. He quickly shoved the book underneath the pile of pillows, and grabbed a marker laying on the floor and the nearest piece of paper. Within seconds he'd flipped onto his stomach, doodling planets and stars and generally random space related things all over it.
"Yep! Over here," he said, raising one hand in case Raph couldn't see him behind the pillows or hammock. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to ya about something," Raph answered, pausing in the doorway. "Can I come in?"
Crap.
Mikey knew exactly what he was gonna talk about. But he said yes anyways. Raph walked over and settled himself in the pile of pillows, legs crossed and fingers fidgeting.
"Your arms are feeling better?" Raph asked, craning his neck to look at Mikey's paper.
"Yep!" Mikey chirped in response. "Don gave me these gloves with some mystic healing stuff in them. I'm still taking it easy, don't worry." Raph nodded, then cleared his throat.
"Raph doesn't wanna come off as mean," he began. " 'M not tryna accuse you of anything. But…"
"But?" Mikey replied, continuing his doodles as casually as he could.
"Were you lying?" Raph asked softly.
Mikey's grip on the marker tightened slightly. "About what?"
"When you said we shouldn't go after the witch," he answered. "You didn't sound fully convinced. Not to me anyways."
Mikey mulled over his options in his head. He could tell Raph what he was planning, he could dig himself a bigger hole with the lie, or…
"I'm… not fully convinced," Mikey began, "But I think we should respect Donnie's wishes."
You should. I'm not going to.
Raph's eyes narrowed, but after a second he sighed, tension slipping out of his shoulders. He shifted on the pillow pile.
"How are you feeling, Mikey?" he asked.
"I told you, Donnie gave me gloves-"
"No," Raph cut in, shaking his head. "Not your arms. How are you doing? You can't exactly have a meeting with Dr Feelings…" He paused. "I think."
"I'm fine, Raph," Mikey answered, a lump in his throat at the obvious lie. "Well- as fine as I can be. I'm not the one you should be worried about-"
"I'm gonna worry about all of you," Raph argued, putting a hand on Mikey's shell. He did his best not to flinch as the pillows shifted once more. What if the spell book became visible?
The paper was pretty much covered in space-related shapes now, so he set the marker down after capping it. "Thanks Raphie," he mumbled. His big brother rubbed circles on his shell gently, and he churred softly in response.
Somewhere in the lair there was a loud crash, and a yelp that sounded like Leo. It also sounded like it had come from the kitchen.
"I'll go take care of that," Mikey groaned, pushing himself off the ground. Their Lou Jitsu marathon was supposed to start soon, and he assumed Leo had taken it upon himself to start making the popcorn.
Raph walked with him, and sure enough his hunch was right. Leo was on the ground, popcorn all over him and the floor. Three successfully made bowls sat on the counter, looking only slightly burnt.
"You could've asked for help you know," Mikey smirked, one hand on his hip and the other outstretched to help Leo up.
"Yeah yeah, well can you guys help me clean this up?" Leo asked, taking Mikey's hand and pulling himself to standing.
"Nope, this was your mess," Mikey teased. "Buuuuuuut, we'll take these to the movie room!"
"Fine." Leo rolled his eyes as Mikey and Raph gathered up the popcorn bowls and other various snacks strewn across the counter.
The movie marathon in and of itself was fine. They reenacted scenes, dramatically gasped at plot twists they'd seen a million times, and cheered every time Lou Jitsu executed a special move. Splinter had joined them, occasionally adding interesting behind the scenes facts. Somehow he always had more stories- but given the amount of stuntmen used in each film, it wasn't too surprising.
As the movies kept playing, everyone got sleepier and sleepier. Their dad was the first to give in, thankfully retreating to his room so that his snoring wouldn't bother them. Then went Leo, still muttering Lou Jitsu quotes in his sleep. Donnie was next, his shell looking strangely exposed without a battleshell or the blue cape to cover it.
And then Mikey drifted off.
His sleep was peaceful and dreamless, until a whimper woke him up.
He snapped out of sleep instantly, ninpo at the ready, only to see Donnie's shell trembling. He was facing away from Mikey but was clearly awake, soft whines muffled by the pillow he was hugging. Leo and Raph were still asleep, so Mikey shuffled over carefully.
"You okay D?" he asked, immediately wanting to take it back. Of course he wasn't okay. "Wanna hug?" he added quickly.
Donnie nodded, letting go of the pillow and turning around. Mikey wrapped his arms around his brother, churring softly to try and help him calm down.
It wasn't working.
Donnie continued to tremble, hands tapping and squeezing and picking at his arms.
Maybe he needed something. A snack, a glass of water, his headphones. "Do you want me to-?"
Mikey's question was cut off. "Cloak," Donnie whispered.
"Where is it?"
"Lab."
After one last gentle squeeze Mikey was up, silently speeding off to Donnie's lab. The cloak was sitting on the back of his desk chair, the place he'd usually left his purple hoodie. He grabbed, shook it once to get rid of any dust, and rushed back to the movie room.
As he walked, he noticed a few mended tears on the back. It was usually hidden by the folds of the neck scarf part, but the stitching didn't match the blue fabric of the cloak. It was a mix of colors, orange, red, purple, white, yellow, and green. He smiled.
The others were still asleep, and while Donnie was still shaking, he was silent. Mikey helped him put the cloak on, draping it around his neck and over his shoulders. The effect was immediate- his breathing evened and the shaking subsided.
Mikey remembered how adamant Donnie had been about wearing his battle shell after Shredder and the Technodrome had damaged it, even while it was still healing. Maybe the cloak was like that, something that felt safe.
"You should try and get some more sleep," Mikey mumbled. Donnie nodded and drew the cloak further around himself. Within minutes, his eyes had shut and breathing had slowed.
A voice behind Mikey asked, "Is he alright?"
Mikey was barely surprised when Leo had spoken. His breathing had been different when Mikey had returned with the cape, a pattern more akin to faking sleep rather than actually being asleep.
"Yeah, he is now." Mikey looked over at the slider, only to see bloodshot eyes and tear stains on his cheeks.
"Are you alright?" He asked as Leo sniffed, wiping his face.
"Yeah I just… He's not the only one that's been having nightmares," Leo confessed.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mikey inquired, fully turning around.
"It's… pretty much what you'd expect," he mumbled. "Usagi was texting me yesterday to ask how Donnie was and then he said we could… y'know, hang out."
Mikey could see where this was going.
"And then everything Donnie said just came flooding back into my mind, and how could I do that to Usagi? Even if this timeline never happens, like you said, what if I'm the reason he ends up getting killed in a fight? And even if he doesn't…" Leo's eyes flicked over to the blue cloak over his sleeping brother. "How could I do that to Donnie?"
For once, Mikey didn't have anything to say. He wanted to make fruitless promises that everything would be okay, that Donnie would get better, that Leo would never cause Usagi's death. But they were empty words, and he couldn't get them out.
"Forget I said anything," Leo mumbled, rolling over and pulling a blanket over his shell, the cracks disappearing under the swaths of fabric.
Mikey stared up at the ceiling as Leo's breathing turned from fake-sleeping to real sleeping.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Then thirty.
An hour.
Mikey couldn't sleep. Questions kept nagging at his mind, fury simmering right below them. After making sure everyone was actually asleep, he abandoned the turtle pile and headed to his room.
The folder was the first thing on the purple screen when he turned on his own DonniePad. It wasn't very brightly lit, which he was mildly thankful for as he scrolled through the files. Donnie had simply given him access to his recordings, but the ones he was looking for were clearly labeled in a folder of their own.
He pressed play.
"And one large Hawaiian!" Leo's voice came through the small speakers clearly. Mikey moved the slider over, fast forwarding.
"~~~~~~Jupiter Jim! Jupiter Jim!~~~~"
"~~~You need me to carry you?~~~~~~~~"
"~~~~Show them the life, where they were the cause~~~~"
He slowed down, listening as the witch recited the spell. A separate chart popped up next to the video, displaying the mystic energy rising.
"~~~I'm pretty sure this isn't the beat poetry club!~~~"
"~~~Banishment wasn't good enough for you~~~~"
"~~~Dad!~~~ Mikey!~~~ Leo!~~~"
Mikey paused the video. Donnie was standing in his train car, facing a shrine. His shattered bo staff hung on the wall. A dusty photo frame sat on a purple covered table.
He sped up again, watching flashes of the next day. He saw the other Leo, the other April, Sunita, Casey.
He listened as Donnie explained his idea to Leo, then to the war council.
He saw the mural.
He saw Raph.
He saw himself, with a mask lacking eyeholes and cracks up his arms and shoulders and jaw and face.
And then the fight.
Donnie held his own, his skill apparent even in the raging battle. The building exploded and Leo was swiftly pinned down by Usagi. Leo quickly kicked him off, and Donnie joined him in fighting the yokai.
A familiar collar hung on Usagi's neck, the sight bringing back memories Mikey did not want to relive. He swallowed his panic and sped up once more.
Usagi was fighting the collar. Leo told Donnie to let him up from the purple restraints. Donnie obeyed.
Gus ran over and pinned him down. Mikey flinched and turned down the volume, choking back a sob as his brother's screams of pain and fear filled the room. Gus's bloody claws hooked into Donnie's plastron as his hands pushed at the hellhound's mouth, trying to keep the snapping teeth away from his face.
Usagi yelled in pain.
Leo made a choking sound.
Gus's claws flexed, and the camera glitched. It switched angles, from sitting on Donnie's shoulders to multiple angles from his wrist.
Three voices screamed for their brother, coated in pain.
Mikey watched as his other self took charge, the graph indicating large levels of mystic energy popping up again. He closed his eyes as the rubble slammed into Usagi. He listened with his eyes closed as Big Mama tore apart Raph's ninpo shell.
He listened, eyes shut tight, as Donnie screamed his name, begging him not to leave too.
The video fell silent, but the graph showing the mystic levels beeped. Mikey opened his eyes, watching the camera angle showing Donnie's face.
He looked broken, like his heart had been shattered into a million pieces and scattered throughout the universe, with no hope of being repaired. Golden rain fell from the sky, landing on Donnie's shoulders and sealing the injury with a soothing light. Within seconds, the only remnant of his wounds were the bloodstains on the blue cloak.
Mikey swiped the screens away and hugged his knees, shaking with every sob.
The anger bubbled under his skin, fire raging and urging him to do something. The tears burned their path down his face like they were streams of lava instead of water. He couldn't just sit there and be Dr. Feelings for his brothers, he had to switch from words to actions.
His phone was in his pocket. The screen light blinded him as it woke up, almost making him drop the device. With a hissed swear he turned the brightness down, opening up his texts with Casey. Ignoring the last conversation they'd had, he sent two words.
angry cashier
three weeks ago
AC: dont 4get abt the bc tranin tmrw w draxim!!
AC: **dradum
AC:**DRIXAM
AC: u know wut i mean
yep! cya then casey! :M
today 12:35am
it's time :M
The three dots indicating she was texting back popped up after a minute. They disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again.
She reacted to the message with a thumbs up.
Knowing she was doing the same, Mikey quickly got dressed and gathered his things. The straps for his nunchaku, clean black shorts, wraps around his legs and arms. He packed the gloves Donnie had given in his bag along with chalk, and a small pouch including everything necessary for the tracking spell and more. He slipped the book into his belt, and tied his mask on tight.
He was ready.