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Mikey stared down at his phone screen, watching as the one tick turned to two, showing the message had been delivered. He waited for a few minutes, hoping the ticks would eventually turn blue but no such luck. He sighed, turning off his phone and throwing it onto the other side of his hammock.
About a year ago, on a venture down into the hidden city, Mikey had met a yōkai called Kirby, and they had become best friends pretty quickly. They talked almost everyday and had been around each other's homes multiple times, Mikey and the humanoid stoat had even shared their trauma with each other. Mikey had thought they were going to be lifelong friends, but with each passing day that was looking less and less likely.
Kirby hadn’t talked to them in over two weeks now.
Mikey had tried to text them multiple times but he had either been left on read or just ignored completely. He had tried giving him space as well, but that hadn’t worked either. He had apologised, for what he didn’t know, but he had obviously done something to upset the other, so Mikey had thought it was a good idea. It obviously didn’t work.
With every day that passed, Mikey’s hope slowly dimmed. He felt desperate, like part of himself had been cut off and they were slowly bleeding out. He had considered begging, pleading Kirby to just acknowledge them for one second but even in his head it sounded pathetic. Though if it brought his best friend back, Mikey wouldn’t even stop to consider it for a second.
That just made him even more pathetic didn’t it? That he was so needy that he couldn’t handle his friend not talking to him for two weeks. He was probably just over reacting, Kirby was probably just busy or dealing with some personal things and Mikey was sitting in the dark making it all about him.
He felt tears well up in his eyes, his breath hitching as his thoughts overwhelmed him. It always happened like this, he thought distantly as he tried to wipe away the tears. He would start thinking and then his brain would start attacking itself until he started crying like a little kid. Most of the time he doesn’t feel in control of his own mind, which is just silly because it's his mind so therefore it's him saying all the bad things about himself. Yet, when he was on his own, crying in the dark it felt like the complete opposite.
Why couldn’t his brain just shut up for once?
Sucking in a harsh breath, Mikey rubbed his face and willed the tears to stop, and surprisingly they did. He groaned at his thought process, realising that he wasn’t even crying about the original thing that had upset him, but over the fact his brain was annoying. Mikey didn’t understand why his mind thought the way it did but Mikey really wished that for once it would just be normal.
He pushed himself out of his hammock, landing softly on the floor and padding out of his room. He didn’t bother wiping his face properly or hiding his red eyes with his mask considering it was about 2 am right now. Everyone else should be asleep or in their own rooms, meaning Mikey was free to do whatever he wanted.
He checked his phone again, wincing at the desperation lacing his last message before putting it away, ignoring the ache in his chest at the still unread texts.
The kitchen was unsurprisingly empty so Mikey quietly made his way to the fridge and pulled out a can of Pepsi, pouring it into his favourite skull shaped cup and fetching a straw from the drawer. He leant onto the counter as he sipped his drink, ignoring the way his eyelids started to get heavy. He saw the nectarines they had in the fruit bowl and smiled slightly. They finally looked ripe enough to eat.
He was just reaching for one of the fruits when Donnie stumbled into the kitchen, cursing under their breath as they slammed their shoulder into the door frame. Mikey smiled at his sibling, grabbing the nectarine and taking a large bite. He hummed at the sweet, slightly sour taste of the fruit, quickly eating the rest of it.
Donnie sat down on one of the breakfast stools in front of Mikey, a cup of coffee cradled in their hands and curious eyes staring at the box turtle. Mikey raised a non-existent eye brow at his sibling, wondering what they were so fascinated about.
“I’m assuming Kirby still hasn’t responded to you?” They said lowly, aggravation lacing their tone as they practically spat Kirby’s name. Mikey froze for a moment, before picking up his cup and taking another drink.
“No, not yet,” Mikey muttered in defeat. He didn’t look at his older sibling, prefering to stir the Pepsi around in their cup with the straw.
“Hmph,” Donnie sighed, eyes narrowed in anger before their features softened out in the way they only did for Mikey. “He’s an asshole.” They said sharply, startling Mikey into choking on his own spit.
“What! No Donnie he isn’t an asshole!” He protested, “Maybe he’s just busy…” He trailed off. The defence sounded weak even to his ears.
“For two weeks and 3 days?” Donnie muttered rhetorically. “I find it hard to believe he couldn’t answer a single text in that time.”
“Well, maybe he’s just mad at me for something?” Mikey reasoned. It wasn’t difficult to believe that he had done something to annoy Kirby without realising it. Mikey knew he could be a lot for some people.
“Even if he was, which I don't see why he would be, he should at least communicate. You guys are 17, it’s not unreasonable to ask for some sort of communication.”
That made some sense, Mikey thought quietly, most of his brain felt like static right now and it was hard to think much of anything. Kirby had gone on rants a lot about his previous friendships and how he hated people being assholes in various ways. So why was he doing the thing he hated? He was leaving Mikey to wonder if he had done something wrong instead of just talking about his issues like he had advocated for so frequently.
Why was Mikey so undeserving of his friend’s respect?
He felt the tears begin to fall again, his breath hitching and body trembling as reality hit him like an anvil in a cartoon. His best friend was just done with him. Kirby had no respect for him, no love or consideration or decency and chances are, Mikey would never even know why. He curled in on himself, choking on his sobs as two arms brought him close to someone’s chest.
“I - I loved him so m-much!” He choked out, hardly able to breath through his sobbing. “H-he was my best f-friend and he didn’t li-like me half as m-much as I loved h-him!” He wailed, barely feeling his body being slowly rocked. “I bet h-he doesn’t even miss m-me!” He couldn’t even speak now, wordlessly sobbing into his sibling's chest as all the pain of the past 2 weeks caught up to him all at once. All he could think about was the unfairness of it all. Why didn’t Kirby value him at all? How could he just be thrown away that easily?
He eventually ran out of tears, hiccupping through the gross amount of snot in his nose and throat. Donnie was holding onto him tightly, rocking both of them on the floor that Mikey hadn’t even realised they were on. There was a hand running up and down the back of his head and Mikey leant back into the sensation, sniffling and still breathing heavily.
“I'm sorry Micheal,” Donnie whispered, their voice was unnaturally shaky. Mikey looked up at his sibling and his eyes widened at the dampness of their mask and the worry in their expression. “I did not mean to cause distress.” Mikey shook his head, burying his face into Donnie’s neck and taking in the comforting smell of home that came with it.
“It’s okay,” he replied. His voice was raw and his throat was still clogged with tears and snot. It was gross but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it right now. “I think I probably needed that.” He admitted. Donnie didn’t reply apart from a terse nod and the two descended into comfortable silence. There was still an ache in Mikey’s chest, but it had lessened a bit now, it didn’t feel as overwhelming.
“You should go to bed,” Donnie broke the silence. “It’s late and we have to go out tomorrow morning.”
Mikey didn’t move, gripping onto Donnie tighter. The softshell only sighed, standing up smoothly and bringing Mikey with him. Mikey let his sibling carry him to his room and place him down on the mattress that was kept underneath his hammock. Donnie then tried to remove themself, something Mikey was strongly against at the moment.
He clung on tightly to his sibling’s arm, pulling them so they had to step closer to the bed and staring up at them with his signature puppy eyes. He could only imagine how much more effective they looked, still damp with tears. Donnie sighed again, shaking their head before gingerly climbing onto the bed with Mikey. He grinned at his victory, snuggling close to his sibling before they had the time to change their mind.
Mikey placed his head on Donnie’s chest and allowed the faint but steady beat of their heart to calm his still racing pulse. Sleep was pulling him down quickly, his eyes drooping and entire body drained after such an intense cry. He felt Donnie place an arm around his shell, humming lowly in their throat as they got themself comfortable.
Sleep was quickly taking him when Donnie shifted again, bringing Mikey back to semi-consciousness. He heard the softshell clear their throat lightly before rubbing up and down Mikey’s shell a bit more firmly.
“You deserve way more than him,” They said with such conviction that Mikey found himself blinking open his eyes to stare in wonder at their older sibling. “Kirby was a fool who took for granted how amazing you are. You deserve way more love than he could have ever given you.” Mikey blinked again, feeling a weight he didn’t know was there fall off his chest. He smiled into his sibling’s chest, tightening his hold on them.
“Thank you Donnie,” he whispered into the dark, the hand around his shell tightening for a moment.
“Of course. Any time Micheal.”