Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Mikey, have you seen Leo?"

Mikey lowered the volume on his speaker and turned away from the mixing bowl to smile at his older brother.

"Nope, he hasn't been in here! Why are you looking for him?"

Donnie shrugged and moved away from the doorway he was leaning against. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. zoomed inside and did a flip above their heads to Mikey's amusement and Donnie's mild rebuke. The drone rolled his eyes and moved to peer over Mikey's shoulder. Donnie sighed in exasperation.

"Nothing much. Just had a question for him."

"What are you making, turtle dude?"

Donnie and Mikey turned their attention back to the drone, watching him zip around the kitchen, scanning the ingredients and tools the orange turtle had out.

"Tomorrow's National Twin Day! So, as tradition calls for~"

Donnie shook his head.

"Leo's favorite! Ta-da!" Mikey said, slipping over the recipe book for S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to see.

"Pizza," the drone said, unimpressed.

"Leo's favorite pizza," the orange turtle corrected with a bop of the drone's snout. Mikey laughed, watching the drone and scientist pair roll their eyes in perfect sync.

"You never cook my favorite for National Twins Day," Donnie scoffed.

"Because you're on the losing side," Mikey replied in a sing-song, turning his back on the duo to sprinkle flour on the countertop.

"Au contraire, brother. I have yet to 'lose,' and all indications this year point—yet again!—to my victory," Donnie said as he headed out of the room.

"Uh-huh," Mikey gave the drone a small wave but didn't turn around to see his brother off, instead calling over his shoulder: "Tell Leo I'm making his favorite when you find him!"

Mikey returned to jamming to his tunes, kneading the pizza dough in time to the beat, and humming along pleasantly. He reached for more flour, and his hand met air.

"Hmm?"

The space next to the sink was bare. Mikey's head turned left and right. No sign of his bag of flour. But he was sure he had placed it right here…

Mikey's brows furrowed. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, looking around with a frown. He had another bag, but he'd prefer not to open it while he still had a half-empty one lying somewhere. A tiny noise turned his head to a cupboard across the kitchen island. It swung the barest bit open, allowing a peek of the darkness inside.

He had probably just moved the flour and forgotten about it, but... Mikey dried his hands, eyes still watching the open cupboard warily.

Mikey had that weird feeling in his gut, telling him something was watching him.

He put his hand over his gut and bit his bottom lip, glancing nervously around for the flour again. The dough was still on the countertop, the vegetables were still on the cutting board, his knives… Four, five of them—he had them all.

Mikey looked at the open cupboard again and moved around the island, beginning to crouch.

"—'s on to us—"

"—uiet! He won't—if you just—"

Mikey frowned, straining his ears. He swore he could hear whispering. The whispering of multiple voices. He looked around again and wished Donnie hadn't left.

"—hhh! Shhh—!"

Shushing?! He just heard shushing. Should he open it? The ghosts didn't seem to want him there. Maybe he should go grab Raph first.

…but if there was nothing there, he'd have to deal with his brothers' babying and teasing again.

Gulping, Mikey extended a trembling hand toward the cupboard.

The murmurs went silent.

A chill ran down his spine. Cold sweat formed on his forehead. Taking a deep breath, Mikey slammed the cupboards open.

Nothing. Empty.

Mikey's breathing slowed, and he felt his heart melt in relief.

Oh thank—

And then the air vent finally gave out.

Mikey stared down at the pile of bodies at his feet in shock. Draxum, Sunita, Cassandra, April, and Splinter stared back at him from the floor, equally stunned. The orange turtle's gaze silently traveled upward to the small vent that'd barely fit their father on his weird days and back down to the group covered in dust, blinking back at him.

A tiny cough drew Mikey's attention to April's cupped hands. An unhappy whine came from them. A little head popped up, covered with tiny palms. The little head jerked, and hands slapped over the hatchling's mouth, nauseous. Feeling eyes on himself, the hatchling turned to look up at Mikey.

Mikey's jaw dropped when he saw the red stripes over the little turtle's eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, the hatchling threw up in April's hands. Mikey lurched forward, instinctively cooing low in concern for the miserable hatchling, only for a hand to lock over his mouth and drag him away.

Unceremoniously, Mikey was shoved into their food pantry with little regard for his muffled protests and kicking feet. He was forced back as the group crowded inside with frantic whispers.

"He's coming back!" Someone hissed, and the closet went silent. Mikey struggled to move the hand off his mouth, trying to yell at his family. Splinter gave him a stern look, and Mikey hesitated as Donnie's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Mikey? I heard a—omigosh. How'd the vent—? Mikey?! Where did you go?!"

"Tell him everything is fine," April hissed.

Mikey gave April a flat look and crossed his arms. They broke his kitchen, interrupted his dinner preparations, crammed him in a closet, and—wait.

Mikey narrowed his eyes and tapped at the hand over his mouth. Cautiously, the hand released him. Mikey took a deep, calming breath and then yelled.

"You de-aged my brother?!"

"Shhhhh!"

The hand was slapped back over his mouth. Mikey spat on it and continued to rage—muffled as it was. Barry, the person who was holding him, shuddered at the sensation of Mikey's spit but held firm.

"Michael?" Donnie's voice came from the other side of the door.

Mikey glared at Barry accusingly. He was pleased that at least the sheep yokai had the decency to look a little guilty. He could see that his efforts with the sheepman were bearing a bit of fruit, a silver lining to being stuffed in the food pantry.

"Are you in the pantry?" Donnie asked.

The handle being wiggled made everyone tense. Sunita held the handle still and used her weight to keep the door closed, looking equally guilty and fearful.

"Mikey? The door's locked. Are you okay?"

"Orange, tell your brother everything is fine."

Mikey glared at his dad. He swiveled his head back to Draxum and nailed him with a glower. He was glad to see the tall man shrink a bit. Draxum hesitantly removed his hand from Mikey's mouth. The orange turtle crossed his arms and harshly whispered.

"You really think he'll buy that now? What was that? Why were you all in the vent? I thought you were all supposed to be out tonight! I only made pizza for four, and I didn't make any baby fo—!"

"Shh! Shh! Okay, we get it, we'll explain—"

"Michael?! If you don't answer me, I'm blasting this door down!"

The handle moved harshly again. Sunita pulled the door, leaning her weight back to counteract Donnie's forceful attempts to open it, and adjusted her feet to hold it there, looking at the others in a silent plea to hurry.

"Just tell Donnie everything is fine!"

Mikey narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down as Donnie's voice grew more worried and his tugs on the door more fierce.

"Mikey?!"

"Please, Mikey—" April asked.

"The tank's in maintenance. You asked me where the spare keys are," Mikey said slowly. April smiled nervously and clasped her hands in front of herself.

"Please! You know how he'll be."

Mikey scrutinized his honorary older sister. She tightened her clasped hands and silently pleaded with her eyes. His expression was conflicted as he listened to his older brother bang on the door.

"Mikey?!" Donnie called, "S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.! Warm up your laser! The commercial one!"

The atmosphere inside the closet grew increasingly tense. April couldn't help breaking her eye contact with the orange turtle, glancing at the door.

Mikey looked at her pleading expression and then Draxum's, Sunita's, Splinter's, and Cassandra's. He bit his lip and clenched his fists. He slumped with a sigh.

"Donnie?" Mikey called.

All noise on the other side of the door ceased. Then Donnie's voice came again, sounding like he was pressing his ear against the door.

"Mikey?! You okay? What are you doing in there? Did you lock yourself inside?" Donnie asked in a tone that demanded his response.

Mikey sucked in his lips and fiddled with his fingers, feeling an uncomfortable swirl of guilt in his insides.

"O-oh, sorry, bro! I had my music in, and I didn't hear you. I'm just looking for flour; I misplaced it somewhere…" He trailed off with a strained laugh, sweating profusely.

"Are you okay? There's a vent broken out here. It seems to have burst. There's dust and plaster all over the ground…" Donnie trailed into concerned silence and added pointedly, " S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. is cleaning it up for you."

They heard the drone groan in loud protest, but the whine of the laser stopped and was replaced by the sounds of brooms and rags.

Mikey put his face into his hands.

"Oh, really, thanks! That's so weird. Guess I didn't hear it, haha. B-because of my music!"

Cassandra raised a brow. April joined Mikey in putting her head in her hands.

"Right…" came Donnie's careful reply, "Can you come out of the pantry, Michael?"

Sunita was pale as a sheet. Splinter put his head against the wall and closed his eyes. April looked up and met Mikey's nervous eyes.

"I just want to make sure you don't have any injuries," Donnie said, voice retreating as he gave the door space so Mikey could exit.

Mikey and April locked eyes—Mikey's eyes were hesitant, April's eyes were pleading. Mikey swallowed and replied in a chipper voice.

"Sure thing, one sec!"

April grabbed Draxum and Cassandra and hugged the wall beside Splinter. Sunita followed suit, moving away from the door and squeezing herself away behind it.

Mikey took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, opening the door to see Donnie's worried face looking down at him. Mikey's guilt wrung out his organs like it was making balloon animals out of them.

"Hold still, I'm going to scan you."

"'K-kay!" Mikey cleared his throat and gave his brother a simple thumbs-up. His heart began its slow ascent up his throat as Donnie's eyes thinned, eying his wide smile skeptically. He gave his tech brace a tap, and purple light washed over Mikey, cycling over a few times.

"Hmm, an elevated heart rate…" Donnie glanced up, narrowed eyes dissecting him.

Mikey felt his heart reach the top of his throat and swallowed it back down, hoping he didn't look as shaky as he felt.

Donnie gave him another look up and down, exchanging a look with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The drone hovered by his side, looking down at Mikey suspiciously.

Mikey's smile was cemented on his face, twitching slightly. It felt like the two were cataloging every drop of sweat on his forehead. Mikey shifted in place and laughed, leaning against the pantry door in an attempt to seem casual.

Donnie's eyes held him for a second more, and then his expression smoothed into its usual stoicness. He gave Mikey's head a fond ruffle.

"But other than that, you seem fine."

Mikey struggled not to gasp all his air out in relief, instead clapping his hands and shooing his brother toward the exit.

"Yep! Totally fine! You don't need to go all Raph on me!" Mikey said.

Donnie hummed vaguely—somewhere between agreement and acknowledgment.

"The dough you were making didn't seem salvageable, so we disposed of it in—"

"No problem! We'll just order in!" Mikey tried to usher them away, smiling anxiously at the drone, who hadn't dropped his scrutinizing stare. Mikey couldn't help glancing at the closed pantry door. His heart jumped when he saw that S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had followed his gaze. The drone looked at the pantry, tilting his head curiously.

"Exactly what I was about to recommend, Michael," Donnie agreed, coming to a halt (to Mikey's frustration) and typing on his tech brace. "Shall I call Hueso's or the Brothers' pizza?"

"Hahaha, don't worry about it! I'll call them. Weren't you looking for Leo?"

"It is not urgent," Donnie said dismissively. "Also, I should take a closer look at that vent."

Donnie stepped around him, making his way over to look up at the broken vent. The floor underneath was now debris-free, sparkling with new shine from the drone's attention. Donnie flicked his goggles down and hummed in interest. Mikey rushed to spin his brother, attempting to push him back toward the door. Donnie ignored his efforts, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling, a hand on his chin.

"You shouldn't cook in here until I fix everything. I might have to replace the whole system depending on the reason it collapsed," Donnie said, eying the opening as his goggles filled with data. A little icon popped up in the corner of his view. Donnie's brows furrowed in confusion. He turned to look at Mikey, goggles filling with more data cataloging the orange turtle's vitals.

"Yup, okay," Mikey urged, pushing at Donnie's shoulder blades. "Don't worry about the pizza. I'll finish putting things away in here and call you guys when it gets here."

Mikey gave him another push, and Donnie allowed himself to be herded to the entryway.

"Hmm," Donnie replied agreeably. He planted his feet right before Mikey could shove him past the curtain and flipped up his goggles. His eyes met S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.'s. A brief exchange happened between them before Donnie narrowed them on his youngest brother one last time. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Yup!" Mikey gave another push as his shell, but Donnie held firm, waiting for the orange turtle to meet his eyes.

"And you don't know how the vent broke?" he asked.

Mikey smiled, gaze darting to and away from Donnie, rapidly back and forth.

"Yup! Now, schmoo, schmoo. Leave the master to his domain."

Mikey was extremely conscious of a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he smiled up at his brother. An eternity passed before Donnie sighed.

Mikey could have sobbed in relief as Donnie turned and walked out the door. He waited for a moment, listening to Donnie walk away, making sure the other didn't double back or vanish—a telling sign that one of his brothers had gone ninja mode to spy on him. Mikey strained his ears, hovering by the door until a whisper from behind broke his concentration.

"Psst. Mikey. Mikeyyyy."

Mikey looked to the ceiling. Anger filled him again as he stormed back to the dang pantry. He forcefully opened the door and watched the entire group waiting inside pour out onto the floor. He crossed his arms and glowered down at them thunderously. Sheepish, guilty smiles looked up at him. Mikey's face was cast in shadow, form like iron, staring down at them—waiting.

April winced.

"Okay, Mikey. Don't be mad—"

"You turned Leo into a BABY and made me lie to Donnie about it?!" He asked, a vein in his forehead twitching, an aura of rage rising around him. April put her hands up and backed up a bit. The group followed her lead, shifting back from the righteous young turtle.

"I can't lie, April!" Mikey began pacing, gritting his teeth and throwing his hands in the air, "I tried before! I'm too young and innocent for that life! It's not me, April!"

"I know, I know, sorry—"

"'Sorry?!' I need more than a sorry, baby! You best explain! Right now!"

The group hid behind April, who gestured for him to calm down.

"Ok, ok, lower your voice!" She hissed.

Quieter, Mikey gritted his teeth and forced out:

"Where's Leo?!"

"He's fine. We were getting the tank keys, and there was a bit of an accident, but he's right—"

April looked back at the group, who stared back at her like deer facing headlights. April's heart froze.

'Where's Leo?' She mouthed.

'You had him last,' Sunita mouthed back.

She did, and then he threw up on her, so she handed him to someone else so she could clean her hands!

A shadow fell on top of her.

April looked up, meeting the glaring eyes pinning her down like a hammer hitting a nail. The rest of Mikey's face was in shadow, but it wasn't hard to tell his feelings. Rage radiated off him in spades.

"You lost him?!"

[Meanwhile, Raph]

"Aww, you okay, little guy? What's a tiny thing like you doing here, huh?"

Raph cooed down at the happy little chirping thing at his feet that was patting at his toes. He bent down and brought it to his face, making kissy sounds that abruptly came to a stop.

Raph's eyes widened.

"Wait… red stripes?"

The tiny thing giggled and clapped its hands, dissolving into enthusiastic baby talk.

"Talkative and smiley?"

Raph brought a finger up for the tiny thing to grab, his chronic headache returning at what he saw.

"Tiny turtle with three finger-like fingers on each adorable tiny hand?"

A shutter fell over Raph's expression. He stared at the tiny thing suspiciously. The turtle hatchling stood on shaky legs and fell forward, landing on Raph's face and gripping his snout with a pleased purr.

Raph lowered the hatchling away, ignoring the tiny turtle's whine of protest, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Raph looked up at the ceiling and then let his eyes fall back down to narrow on the hatchling.

"That better not be you, Leo."

Leo gave his eldest brother a delighted squeal, thrilled to hear his name from the older turtle. He laughed as Raph touched his little cheek with a finger, nudging his head to the side. Leo grabbed it with both his hands and gave it a little kiss.

Raph clenched his unoccupied hand into a fist, trying to keep his glare stern. Then his head bent in defeat. He grasped at his heart and bit his lip.

"Darn! You're so cute, though!"

Leo giggled and spouted a babble of baby talk, imitating Raph.

Raph's heart squeezed violently.

"Okay. One picture… maybe two, and then we go find Donnie."

"Ah!" Leo cried in agreement, slapping a hand on Raph's mouth.

Raph squinted, face solid stone, and then he gave the hand a little kiss.

"Mm-muh," Leo said seriously, mimicking the sound of the kiss.

Here lies Raph.

Cause of Death: Adorableness Overdose resulting in Heart Failure.

RIP.