Brotherly Bonds

Paint it Black

Sorry I haven't been doing much lately guys! School's almost done and I have a lot of work to do, but I managed to find a couple spare hours to whip this up today, so hope you enjoy. this is 2007 movie-verse so, yeah. Once all this craziness has died down I will hopefully be able to get back to updating more often!

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Mikey's eyes followed his older brother across the room. The hothead's step was tilted, unsteady, and a couple times he even swayed precariously, but Michelangelo knew that he couldn't do anything. There was no point trying to help Raphael when the red-masked turtle didn't want it. In spite of everything that had changed recently, some things were just destined to remain the same. Raph was stubborn as ever.

Almost a year had passed since Leo's return from South America. It was rough at first, 'specially with the whole thirteen monsters and the stone army thing, but after all that had died down, Mikey had seen a tremendous change in his two older brothers. They still fought, of course. That would never change, but their fights had gotten milder, less angry and more like brotherly bickering than anything else. Occasionally Raph would blow his top, but that was to be expected. Leo knew how to handle it.

Leo's return had also reacquainted them with their hotheaded brother, who had drifted out of reach during their big brother's absence. Mikey felt closer to Raph than he had felt in years, even closer than he was in the years before Leonardo had left, and maybe that was why—

Mikey had this weird feeling he didn't know how to explain. Something was—he didn't want to say wrong, because it didn't really feel wrong, exactly—but something was off. Back before Leo had left, Raphael had been, in Mikey's mind, a playmate, someone that he could poke fun at and play games with. Raph was like a fire: awesome, warm and soothing, that every once in a while would lash out with a stinging hot fury.

But lately, Mikey had been catching things, just little things at first: Raph in the kitchen at three in the morning, Raph gritting his teeth as he struggled to focus during training, Raph staring blankly off into the distance, Raph's footsteps creeping past his door in the middle of the night, Raph tentatively raising his fist to knock on Sensei's door, only to pull it back and storm away. And just last night: Raph's eyes widening, his face flushed with panic, Raph's body shoving Leo out of the line of fire and taking a tranquilizer dart to the neck. They were lucky it was only tranquilizers. Aside from that, and a nasty gouge on his right arm, the hothead was okay. Thank goodness.

Those sick bastards had lured them out in hopes of capturing them and selling them off to some scientist. If Raph hadn't alerted his brothers to what was going on with his shout, they probably would have lost Leo. As it ended up, they were able to defend their brother and retreat to safety, but that wasn't what had Mikey so lost in thought.

There was a touch of frigidity in Raphael. Coldness that seemed so abstracted by Raph's warmth and yet, it was always there. What was bothering Michelangelo more than anything else was that, in the back of his mind, he sensed it always had been. Mikey's heart ached and his eyes watered a little as he swallowed hoarsely. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was dry. He had so many questions, so many things that he wanted, no, needed to know:

How many sleepless nights had Raphael spent in the kitchen, alone and in the dark? How many times had he blown up at them for leaving him out? How many times had he been criticized beyond his breaking point? How many nights had he spent in the dojo, doing the same move over and over and over, only to get scolded for being tired? How many mornings had he lingered in his room, afraid to step out and face the pain that a new day would bring? How many hours had Raph isolated himself in his room, letting himself be swept away by dark thoughts? How many times had Raphael thought about just giving up?