Chapter Text
It really was surprising Mikey was even functioning.
His brain felt foggy and his body felt both heavy and like it wasn’t even there. Nothing about it felt real, nothing about him felt real, and yet he would roll out of his bed anyway. If he could find the energy.
Today, if he remembers right, he was supposed to train with Leo and Donnie.
Was it a good idea? Definitely not, but Leo already insisted they needed to train since they had a really long break.
Mikey, for the life of him, couldn’t remember a break. He could barely remember who he was, if anything.
His hands moved to rub his eyes, although it didn’t feel like they were even his.
Just get through the day. A tiny voice told him, and he nodded. Like the fake voice in his head could see him.
He felt so stupid.
Not even the texture of the blankets on his bed could ground him, grasp on reality slipping even more at the thought of being stupid.
He couldn’t place why any of it was happening, and he didn’t want to fight it anymore. It felt pointless.
Why was he thinking so negatively? This wasn’t him at all.
The light in the room felt a bit brighter, before it morphed into darkness. A daydream? A memory? He couldn’t tell.
He was laying on… something that definitely wasn’t a bed. It felt crafted of random soft objects, and was more of a heap on the floor than a mattress.
He didn’t feel anything, he barely felt the cold air around him. There was a loud hum, and he knew that it meant he could breathe.
He could feel some weird slimy thing wrapped around his arm, and it itched. He remembered a loud screech before he obtained it, the sympathy slipping from his soul in that slight moment where he killed—
Then it was gone, just like every bad thing Mikey had experienced, and he wondered what made that so bad? What did he kill?
Desperate for an answer, he tried to prod and poke further into his memory.
To no avail, he felt a forceful push back into reality, and he held his eyes closed tightly so as to not get sick at just the feeling of it. He really really didn’t like when his brain did that.
“Mikey?”
He heard his name being called, but it felt very far away. Way out of reach even if he could look around and reach out.
He tried to settle back into his body once again so that he could do something, but he couldn’t make it. He wanted to cry.
The sound he made (at least he thinks it was him) was like a strangled hum of frustration, more like a squeak because it wouldn’t pass his vocal cords.
Whoever else was there, much more present than Michelangelo could manage, shook his shoulders a bit intensely. Worried? Annoyed?
He couldn’t tell, but he clinged onto the feeling of something and tried to focus.
He blinked back into what felt like a dream, but was most definitely real. Leo was there in front of him, face seeming distorted. Like something was missing. Like something had changed.
But nothing had, and when he finally made eye contact his brother stopped shaking him.
The words he was saying barely processed through Michelangelo— Mikey’s mind, but he got the basic idea that he needed to get up.
If anyone asked him what Leo had said, he would’ve just shrugged.
He felt far to the left. Very far. He wasn’t even close to being in this room, to hearing most of the sounds, to comprehending let alone speaking, and when he did, he didn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel the buzz of his vocal cords, the rise and fall of his own chest. Nothing besides the distant internal alarm that he needed to go downstairs.
Lee was gone when he focused enough to recognize he was pulled to his feet, and he had a slight ringing in his ear as he focused on the pull of gravity.
It didn’t help, causing him to wobble and stick his hands out for balance.
That also didn’t work, and without his own conscious decision his footing changed, giving him more balance.
He huffed, reaching over to his arm to fidget with a bandage that wasn’t there anymore.
He caught a quick glimpse of a memory, a bleeding arm and a destroyed Kraang bot, before it was gone once again and he was back to his ringing ear and empty body.
Distantly he felt his hands move, and they were shaking slightly as he stared down at them. They felt disconnected, like they were floating and not a part of him at all.
It was hard to remember where he was. Or who he was. Or why he was standing.
The tiny alert went off in the back of his mind again, begging him to go downstairs. He blindly listened, starting his journey forward.
This entire house looked unfamiliar. The wallpaper, the floorboards, the layout, and yet he still moved like he knew it all. Like he’d been there for years.
Maybe that was true, or maybe it wasn’t him moving, maybe he was just some puppet on a string. Or a video game character.
His brain didn’t like that thought, quickly taking it away and trying to push him fully into his body once again. Like it was magically gonna work.
Go figure, it didn’t, and he stumbled to catch the railing as he almost fell down the stairs.
With growing frustration he sighed, blinking away the blur and focusing on the grip he had on the railing. It was the only thing grounding him; the slight burn of such a tight grip.
Very very distantly he heard voices, and he recognized them but couldn’t place who they belonged to.
“Oh, I thought you got him already.” A more masculine voice said, loud as if it was used to only being heard at such a volume. Mikey felt like he could relate to that, to needing to yell in order for anyone to hear him.
Following came another masculine voice, this one frustrated and loud as well, but in a more commanding tone than the previous. Leo, but different. Something had changed.
“I tried, but he’s not listening. Nobody ever listens to me, because I guess I’m just as useless of a leader as I am as a brother!”
It was loud and full of something Mikey couldn’t place, and he focused on making his way down the stairs as if on instinct. As if it was his job.
“What? Leo, nobody—“ A girl’s voice, soft, comforting, and confused voice followed. It was cut off by the slam of a door. Yikes, that did not sound good.
Mikey finally got down the stairs, feeling much more grounded and less foggy as he looked for the source of the voices. April and Casey, he reminded himself, even though he wasn’t sure it was even him that said it.
The thought made his feet feel lighter, and he wiggled all six of his toes to get some sort of feeling back.
“Oh, hey dude.” Casey called out, walking towards Mikey. He was going to say something back, but he didn’t, so he just opened and closed his mouth like an idiot fish. Casey huffed, amused, but it still sounded so far away as if Mikey wasn’t staring directly at him. “Uh, you good?”
“Fine.” He croaked, the words not even feeling like they came from him. Like the vibration in his throat was actually miles away and he was standing in the void.
Casey’s brow furrowed, but he nodded and gave a skeptical look. “Cool. Uh, Leo’s looking for you. He’s off today, be careful.”
A quick pat to the shoulder before Casey walked out of Mikey’s view, and he lifted his hands up to rub his eyes. This really sucked, he wondered if anyone could help. Maybe dee? He’s smart.
When he was forced back to reality, April was playfully shaking his shoulders, and his hands finally moved from his face. She looked a bit out of it too, almost uncomfortable with the feeling as if it wasn’t fully hers. Or maybe Mikey was looking too far into it.
“Um, you’ve been standing here for like three minutes rubbing your eyes. Are you sure you’re okay to train? I’m sure we can talk to Leo-”
He shook his head, feeling so stupid for standing around like an idiot and making April worry. “Nope, dudette, I’m all cool. Like a cucumber.” His face contorted as he registered what he had said. Are cucumbers even cool? Mikey doesn’t even like cucumbers. “Or.. a popsicle?” Now he was confusing himself. Popsicles are cold, but are they also cool?
“If you.. Say so?” April frowned, and Mikey focused once again on what was happening. The voice in the back of his head just told him he needed to go outside to Leo, and he listened, leaving April alone by the stairs.
Training. That was super important. And quality time with brothers! A double win. Kind of.
If he felt any more attached to the world in front of him, the porch and the steps he was walking down, the slight wind and the sound of Leo in the distance, he probably would’ve been much happier to spend time with his brothers. But as of now, he felt none of that. He just blinked, trying to stop the colors from becoming brighter and the world becoming better.
All he wanted was Papa, but he was forced into this stupid world by his own stupid brain.
He felt so frustrated. He wanted to cry. He wanted his Papa.
“Oh, there you are!” He heard Leo call, and he tried to make himself look up at his brother. It barely worked. He felt so far away from everything, but he still stood there and looked at his oldest brother.
Leo didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “I only called you ten times. You’re lucky Sensei isn’t here.” He huffed. He sounded angry, and Michelangelo— Mikey just apologized, not caring enough to be sad about it.
He didn’t want to think about Sensei. He didn’t even want to be there in general. He felt so far away. He wanted to go hide in his room.
Dee didn’t seem to want to be there either, this defeated look on his face and a glare in his eyes. It was so full of anger. Almost hateful. Mikey didn’t like it.
It was a blur of mindless movements as Leo started their training, doing it just like Splinter would, except with less insults to Michelangelo in particular.
Finally, he gave in to the brighter colors, body moving on its own while he ran around and played with his brothers in his mind.
“Mikey’s back!!” Lee cheered, tackling Mikey. He just giggled as the others joined in. Even Raphie jumped onto the pile.
Dee was the first to get up, pulling everyone to their feet. “Mikey! Are you gonna stay this time?”
Mikey smiled. He wanted to nod, he wanted to agree. He wanted to stay forever.
He looked over at Raphie, who had a wide smile on his face. A smile that Michelangelo hadn’t seen in a long time.
But- but Michelangelo wasn’t supposed to be here. This was for Mikey.
He had to blink it away, so far away from feeling his body that it was almost like he wasn’t there at all. That he was floating in between a daydream and reality. It was comfortable there.
He considered for a moment just staying like that, away from everything, until he found himself starting to daydream again, and he pushed himself to feel the sensations of the real world again.
He didn’t know what was going on. He was doing some kind of kata while Leo talked. It seemed normal until he realized Donnie wasn’t doing anything.
Mikey just wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be feeling like this.
He forced himself to settle, stopping his movements as Leo turned to say something to him. “—right Mikey?”
The turtle in question blinked, flexing his hands. He felt a little more.. there than he did earlier. He distantly wondered how long Leo and Donnie had been arguing.
Then he realized Lee asked him a question, and he didn’t hear it. He didn’t want to say yes or no if it was an argument, but he didn’t want to stay silent-
“Well- uh-“ he tried, but was cut off by a satisfied Lee.
Satisfied maybe wasn’t the true adjective. More.. pleased with an agreeing opinion, even though Mikey didn’t really agree. Lee was still really angry, and that didn’t help anyone. “See! Mikey even agrees!”
“No- I-“ he tried to defend, but Leo wasn’t listening, and that made him too sad to stay as grounded as he had been. He couldn’t really feel his chest moving up and down anymore, all of his consciousness in his head. It was slowly slipping away, everything feeling fuzzy like a dream.
“You never want to spend time with us. Don’t you care? About anything?”
Leo continued, gesturing wildly at Mikey’s older brother, who didn’t seem pleased in the slightest. Really, he looked like he didn’t care at all. But he also looked sad. Frustrated. A lot like Michelangelo was right now.
“Lee, he’s clearly upset-“ he tried, forcing himself to even say the words. He had a headache. He wanted to go to sleep. Leo didn’t care.
He put a hand up, shushing Michelangelo further with “Shut up. Let him speak.”
Michelangelo was feeling heavy and real. Real and angry that Leo would tell him to shut up when he was being the only voice of reason in this entire situation!
His brain didn’t like his negative thoughts and feelings, putting a nice memory in his head. Multiple. Ones of Lee being nice, caring, and nothing like how he was acting right now.
It forced him into a weird state of confusion, watching the scene before him as if he were miles away with just his memories for support.
Was this even real? Mikey’s Lee would never say that. He was the best big brother in the world, and he lived up to the title.
Was any of it real? Mikey couldn’t remember Lee being mean. He couldn’t remember much of anything. He blinked, looking around. He couldn’t even remember what he was doing.
Donnie’s response came, muffled by the thousands of thoughts running through Mikey’s brain. All he could do was try and blink away the swirls of bright colors that came with a daydream in hopes of staying grounded.
“Maybe I don’t care.” Dee shrugged, though it was clear in his posture that he did care, and it was clear in the gloss of his eyes that he did care, and Mikey wasn’t falling for his act.
But apparently Lee was, because he let out an annoyed yell before he turned and stormed back into the house.
Mikey didn’t even feel sad as he watched Lee go back into the house, making a big show of the whole walk as if he were a child again. As if he was gonna go tell Splinter that Dee wasn’t listening.
But Mikey knew he wasn’t going to tell Splinter anything, and he was just acting like that because he didn’t know how else to act. That thought didn’t make him sad either.
Maybe that was the best thing about being Mikey. Sure, he had horrible memory and didn’t even feel at home in his own body, but at least he wasn’t sad.
Dee looked like he was going to walk away, nothing else keeping him in the grass in front of the house. But Mikey knew that being alone wouldn’t help him in grounding, so he called out. “Can I stay with you, Dee?”
His brother turned to look at him, and something looks different. Maybe it’s his eyes, maybe it’s the expression on his face, but he didn’t look anything like Dee.
If he wasn’t Dee, then who was he? Was he someone else, or did Dee change and Mikey had forgotten? Did Mikey change and forget? Was he even Mikey?
He could feel tears well up in his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry in front of his brother, so he held them back.
Dee didn’t seem to really care about his question, just letting out a scoff and turning to walk towards the barn.
That wasn’t a no, so Mikey’s body moved to follow his brother.
He struggled to focus on the walk, not wanting to think about the prickly grass or the slight chill in the air or the impending sense of danger that he didn’t understand. But daydreaming was the opposite of what he was supposed to be doing, because these brothers needed Mikey right now.
He really wanted his daydream brothers, but his real brothers needed him. Wasn’t need more than want? That was something Papa used to say.
But what if the daydream brothers needed him too? They always said they did, that he made them happy and they were so bored without him. But what if these brothers felt the same way?
Mikey wished there were two of him.
When he blinked back into focus he was in the barn with Donnie, staring at the broken down van. He couldn’t remember where it came from. Maybe Donnie found it somewhere.
Everything still felt foggy, far away.. unreal. Like daydreaming but worse, because now he couldn’t focus on anything and he didn’t have his brothers.
Wait- he did have one of his brothers.
“Dee?” He called out, the sound of his voice not feeling like his own. It was a gross feeling.
Donnie responded somewhere away from Mikey. “What, Michel?” It sounded more like a demand than a question. He sounded tired. And angry. But it also sounded empty and sad.
Mikey turned to look at him. He was sorting through papers. Probably blueprints.
The orange-clad turtle didn’t really have anything to say. He didn’t know what he was going to ask. He just knew that talking would make it all feel real, and his head wouldn’t hurt nearly as much and maybe his voice would sound like his again.
“Do you ever feel.. Like.. uh- wrong?”
The question felt strained, but it came out perfectly fine. Donnie turned to him, raising an eye ridge at the question.
“Wrong?”
Mikey just nodded. He couldn’t think of how to elaborate what he was feeling. He just hoped that Donnie could relate, so he wouldn’t be alone.
“Like… like you’re doing something wrong.”
His older brother shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone feels that way.” He turned back to his papers, but he didn’t seem to get it.
“I mean-“ Mikey started, walking towards his desk. “I mean everything around you feels wrong. Like- not real.”
There was a pause, and now he was standing right next to Donnie’s chair, and Donnie turned to look at him again. “Not real?” He asked, seeming to finally get what Mikey was saying, but not quite understanding it.
“Yeah. Floaty.” He nodded, and his voice sounded so sad when it left. Mikey didn’t like being sad. “I feel that way a lot. Is it wrong?”
For once, Donnie didn’t seem to have an answer to that. He just kinda blinked up at Mikey, who was fidgeting with his hands and avoiding eye contact.
His brother was looking at him like it was wrong. Like he was wrong. Like he was an equation that was unsolvable, that broke all of the math rules in existence.
And Mikey felt like a little kid again, looking at his brothers doing everything right, and looking at himself doing everything wrong.
Donnie’s shoulders slumped after the long pause, and he turned his head away again. “Uh.. I don’t know.” Was the only thing he could say, and Mikey didn’t know if he was okay with that answer, but he accepted it nonetheless.
“Oh. Okay.”
Donnie got back to sorting his papers, and Mikey just kind of stood there, trying to focus on what the words said and what groups they were going in, but he couldn’t.
Just being near Donnie like this, like it was normal, reminded him of all the fun he had when they were home. Just them and Papa and movies and comics. It reminded him of water balloons and algae and grilled cheese. It reminded him of sharing a room and fighting for the warmest spot in the turtle pile.
And that reminded him that he didn’t have any of that now, his focus far away from the room he was in with only one of his brothers.
But at least there was one.
“I missed you.” He blurted out, unfiltered as he tried to pull himself back into the world around him. He felt dizzy. He probably needed water. He was hungry too. He wanted pizza.
“What?”
Oh, right. He was in a conversation. “I missed you.” He repeated, and his brother was looking down at his papers with a furrowed brow. Mikey continued. “But you’re here now, right?”
He felt uncertain of himself as he asked the question, because Donnie felt so far away. Not just physically, not just because Mikey wasn’t fully in control of his own body, but also emotionally. Like he wasn’t even Donnie anymore.
Maybe that’s what they said about Michelangelo. Maybe that’s why they’d always liked Mikey more.
“Um.. yeah. Yeah, I’m here.” Donnie answered, and Mikey couldn’t help but smile as he watched his brother hesitantly go back to his work. The answer felt distant. It didn’t even feel genuine. But he still smiled.
His smile didn’t feel as real as he wished it was. He didn’t feel as satisfied by the response as he thought he would be. He wanted to cry.
“Can I have a hug?”
There was a long pause as Donnie considered it. Part of Donnie was tense and angry, but the other part softened. The other part opened his arms for a hug.
“Sure, Mikey.”