Chapter Text
Michelangelo swivels his flashlight this way and that as he and Donnie walk through the tunnels, eyes tracing the graffiti marking up the walls and recognizing Mikey's unique signature affixed to many of them. They were made of vibrant colours, neons splattered and glowing in the dark of the tunnels - not too much unlike the artist himself.
There was a time Michelangelo had an interest in art. Raphael was into sketching and growing up; he wanted to do everything his older sibling did. Partly to be annoying and partly because he found Raphael to be so cool, even if he refused to admit it. Raphael had gravitated towards realism, using nubs of pencils and broken charcoal to complete notebooks their father brought back already half filled. Raphael had guarded his art supplies by tooth and nail, however he did hand over some scraps and crayons once finding out colour was not something of interest to him. But then they started training in ninjutsu and while the 'art' came easily to Michelangelo the 'martial' did not and he struggled with the rigid discipline and order of training and forms. More training was required and the pile of paper scraps and broken crayons were lost in the mess of his room.
His thoughts briefly linger on Raphael, remembering those interactions when they were young and still naive, where the biggest conflict they faced was who got to use the washroom first in the morning. But then his brother twists up and bleeds and his breathing turns strange as he cries for help and Michelangelo needs to focus on something else before he spirals again.
"So - where exactly is Mikey again?" Michelangelo questions, diverting his attention to Donnie who was leading the way.
He was pretty sure it had already been explained to him a hundred times and expected a snapped response for repeating himself, but instead Donnie's frustration seemed aimed at his younger counterpart instead of himself. "At the old lair - he's probably checking on Karai's grave. He always does this! We tell him not to do something and he goes off and still does it! I blame it on Raph."
"Why is it Raph's fault? Seems like something Splinter would keep an eye on correcting." Michelangelo points out, recalling all the times he had been placed in time out or given a punishment for breaking one of their rules. Leonardo was a bit of a slacker in that realm, often threatening Michelangelo with extra chores when he snuck out to skate with Mondo Gecko or slept through early morning training, but he never seemed to carry through.
"Raph never corrected him about it when we were younger, he was never good at punishing us for things we did wrong. Him and Mikey may have drifted apart because of his constant babying, but Mikey still has him wrapped around one of his three fingers."
"That... Still sounds like something Splinter should have dealt with. Isn't Raph only like a year older than you guys? Why is he in charge of that?"
Donnie looks over his shoulder, battle shell reflecting Michelangelo's flashlight to cast a strange shadow on his face. "Isn't your Leo in charge of that?"
Michelangelo briefly looks away, trying to find how they relate but unable to find a connection. "We were 17 when Leo had to start doing that," he corrects, looking back at Donnie. "Splinter did it before."
"Yeah, well, Splinter wasn't really there for us consistently and when he was gone, Raph was in charge. At least ours showed us affection so we weren't emotionally constipated as adults." Donnie replies hotly, waving a hand over his shoulder.
The comment makes Michelangelo stop in his tracks, Donnie taking a few more steps until he realises that the bobbing of Michelangelo's flashlight had ceased and he was no longer being followed. "That's not fair."
"Didn't say it was fair, but I am right."
"Are you? My Splinter may have been… a master at emotions and affection, but he did his best. He was only ready to raise Miwa because Shen was supporting him and he came from a time where gender roles dictated that the mother be more affectionate. He didn't really have the greatest role model for fatherly love growing up - the whole reason Shredder existed for us is because of the actions of his father and my grandfather. He was ready for Miwa, but he wasn't ready for us. He did what he could being in a situation no one else had ever had to face. It's not like there's a wikihow on raising mutant turtles while being a mutant yourself - but at least he was there!"
"Did he really do a good job when your family has been falling apart since you arrived?"
Michelangelo thought he would feel exhausted. It seemed like he was constantly having to defend his family, walking a thin line between correcting the perceptions the younger turtles had of them while at the same time keeping them happy. The one time he snapped - everything fell apart. But rage was rearing its ugly head inside his chest again, teeth flashing as it thrashed to be released.
He wanted to be with his brother but Donnie dragged him away.
He wanted Leonardo and Donatello back because not being with them meant not knowing if they were safe but that seemed like a stupid thing to be concerned about. They were never safe anyways.
He knew Mikey was just a kid still learning and he certainly did things he should not have done at that age, but he was still mad that the younger turtle made such a selfish action.
He wanted to go home.
"Stop that!" Michelangelo flashes, teeth bared in unconcealed rage. "Stop comparing us! Do I sometimes wish things were different? Do I sometimes think we all would have been better off if Splinter treated us differently? Yes! But I still know he loved us and did what he thought was best to protect us and I love him for that! Contrary to what you seem to believe, you don't know everything, Donnie! So stop talking like you do!"
Donnie's expression does not shift from its passive annoyance, but there's a new shadow that flickers across his face when his eyebrow twitches. "I liked you better a day ago."
"You liked me because I didn't argue," Michelangelo snaps back, "you don't like when people disagree with your opinions or beliefs. Mikey may have forgiven and strongly forgotten, but I have his memories. You would prefer the entire world think like you then have people disagree and be different. Don't talk to me about what makes a healthy family when you do things like that."
"I was making them better!" Donnie defends, spreading his arms out in frustration. "So what if I did it wrong at first?! I put them back and we're better than we were then."
"That shouldn't have happened in the first place, Donnie! It doesn't take a genius to know that altering someone's brain is bad in the first place! I -" pain explodes in Michelangelo's head, his words dying in his throat as his jaw clicks and a hand goes up to his forehead. It wasn't his first battle with a concussion and he curses at himself for forgetting about the head pain flare ups from yelling. When he was younger and tumbled around too hard, his father would have him sit in the dark and place a cold washcloth on his forehead while singing a lullaby to coax his wild son to sleep. As he grew older and Donatello's interest in medicine expanded, his time was spent being watched in his lab with a bucket between his legs. The room was still dark to avoid his headaches, but the lullaby was replaced by the gentle typing of Donatello's keys as he tracked Michelangelo's vitals. The concussion before his current one was shortly after Splinter's death. Michelangelo spent it alone in his room.
"I'm sick of this - I want to be with Raph." Michelangelo snaps once again, gesturing down the tunnels. "Let's just find Mikey and we can deal with this later."
Michelangelo thinks there's a moment where Donnie plans to argue, drawn on brows pinched together and expression downturned in challenge but he spins on his heels instead and stalks off, staff gripped so tightly in his knuckles they turn white and light bouncing from too aggressive steps. Michelangelo rolls his eyes at the theatre-like dramatics, trailing after Donnie and ignoring how the thrashing rage starts to twist into gnawing guilt.
{<•>}
The rest of their trek was completed in silence, broken only by Donnie announcing they were at the threshold. Michelangelo squints as they pass under the entrance, craning his head back as his eye follows the cracks across the ceilings. He had been here before, back when 'Demon Shredder' had made his debut but was not given a chance to really explore outside of the main space. 'Home' somehow managed to ooze from the cracks despite destruction of the space, scribbles and scuffs across the floor and walls that nagged at foggy memories in Michelangelo's mind. Mikey's memories, most likely. Days of being called 'Orange' and carried on big shoulders echoing in his pounding skull. Leonardo made sure they kept their lair clean, but Michelangelo didn't really think it felt like home even if it was still strung together and people lived inside. That sense of 'home' had started to slink away around the same time his brothers started shutting each other out.
There's voices as they draw closer to the main area where Michelangelo once was and where Karai's shrine must be. Michelangelo's head still couldn't seem to wrap around the concept of Karai being a whatever-many-great grandmother. That was his sister in his current life and an enemy in the one before that. He didn't think she could be anything else and Michelangelo doesn't think he wants her to be anyone else. Despite their rough beginnings with her being with the Shredder, she was an ally now and one he trusted. He even stayed over at her place on the nights when the quiet felt too loud and he didn't have the tolerance to be around the Mutanimals. It was a different quiet with her - understanding and patient. He just wasn't allowed to flirt with Shini anymore whenever he was over.
Michelangelo brows furrow at hearing Mikey and then a distinctively deep voice, the two seeming to be deep in conversation and having a mild disagreement over something. He slows, worried that this may be another situation where their lives bleed together but Donnie seems to have a different idea, picking up his speed to make sure his younger brother is alright. Michelangelo feels a frown settle over his face, not wanting to rush in without knowing what was waiting for them but also not wanting to let Donnie walk in on something that could hurt him. He picks up his pace despite instinct telling him not to, words starting to pass through the crumbling hallways.
Mikey's voice is heard first as the main area comes into view, Michelangelo seeing his small form staring up at someone much taller than him and skinny arms crossed over his plastron. "I already told you, I am Michelangelo." He states, and there was annoyance in his tone, as if this wasn't the first time he had to explain this. "There's no other one around - it's just me."
Michelangelo was unsure if Mikey was saying that because he was the only Mikey around or in an attempt to protect him from the universe's wrath.
There's a deep rumble to the next set of words, scraggly like a mountainside and sounding just as intimidating. Michelangelo thinks it could have been Raphael if Raphael decided to turn to a lifelong career of drugs and crime. "You are not the right one. I'm told not to hurt you, but if you continue to stand in my way, that may change."
Michelangelo manages to snag the back of Donnie's battle shell before the younger turtle could barrel in, metal cold beneath his hand. He might be mad about their argument but not mad enough to let Donnie get hurt. "Stop! We don't know who or what is on the other side!" He hisses, Donnie shooting him a look so heated that he half expected his flesh to melt. "Just - let me check in case it's someone I know! It sounds like they might be aware of the doubles!"
Donnie knocks his hand off, frown twisting up his features. "Be quick about it." He demands stiffly, Michelangelo relieved that he still sees strategic reason despite his brother potentially being in danger. He thinks the situation would have been a whole lot worse if the other twin was there.
Michelangelo crouches, ignoring the way the bottom of his shell stings in protest and peers around the corner of the hallway. Whoever Mikey was talking to comes into view, hulking form at least four times the other turtle's size and shell spikey and mean. There's a moment where Michelangelo's heart drops to his stomach so fast he fears throwing it up, childish terror curling around his body as Slash stands before him and beckons Raphael to his side.
Donnie must have noticed the fear on his face. "What?! Who is it?!" He hisses, looking as if he was done waiting.
It takes a while for the words to get past the lump in his throat, but by the time he can work it out, his vision swims and he realises that the massive turtle was greener than Slash. Older too and his spikey shell was a ripped up tunic barely fitting over his body. "It's - sorry, I thought it was someone else. Must be someone from your universe." Michelangelo states, hand resting on his pounding forehead. Time was going back for him, fears too it seems. He was still hesitant around Slash after the large turtle broke his shell in rage, but no longer gripped by fear or plagued by nightmares. It was mainly Shredder and his family haunting him at night, now.
Donnie looks over his crouched form, eyes squinted and one hand shielding from the sunlight bleeding through the cracks. "I don't know this guy either - might be a Yokai. Somehow they look uglier than Raph."
"Alright," Michelangelo snaps, swatting Donnie away so he has space to stand. It seemed that even in the face of dread and danger, Donnie still had time to rib his brothers. "Let's just get your brother and go."
"The Yokai is asking for you though, just stay hidden, I'll deal with it." Donnie says with a wave of his hand. He's gone before Michelangelo can hiss at him to stop, swagger into the main area. "Oh dear Michael, what do you think you are doing running around by yourself?"
Michelangelo watches as Mikey's shoulders hike up, stance stiffening and bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Mikey was probably seeing this as babysitting and not the universe is trying to kill us so maybe don't go on silly solo missions to prove a point.
"And who's your ugly friend?" Donnie questions, hands going to his hips.
The Yokai is unimpressed, blowing a gust of air at Donnie's face that makes the turtle's expression turn so disgusted you would think he got licked. "Unimportant." He rumbles, red tufts of hair dull from dust. "I'm looking for someone who does not belong."
"The only one who 'does not belong' is you," Donnie says, using air quotes to emphasise his main point. "This is our home, you're trespassing. Turn around and get out before I show you the true extent of a mad scientist's mind." The Yokai snorts again, Donnie's entire face twisting in comical disgust before turning his attention to Mikey. "What are you doing away from the Foot Clan? You were supposed to stay with April, it's safer."
Mikey shrugs, pout still etched deeply on his face, "I just wanted to check on gran-gran's shrine. I assume Shredder probably trashed it - which he did."
"We can worry about that later," Donnie states, the back of his hand going to Mikey's forehead. Mikey makes a face at the contact, but doesn't turn away. "You're still way too cold, let's get you back to some towels and hot water and we'll go from there." He nudges Mikey towards the exit, expression souring as he looks over his shoulder at the glaring Yokai. "Why are you still here? Whatever you are looking for is not with us."
"I can't leave until I find it."
"He says Big Mama sent him," Mikey explains with another shrug, walking towards where Michelangelo was hiding from view. "Not sure what she's trying to get her claws on this time around, but this guy can't seem to move on from finding my 'twin'."
"Look, I'm sending my security bot in like five minutes. You need to clear out of here by then," Donnie warns, jabbing a finger in the Yokai's direction, "and tell Big Mama to stop meddling with our lives unless she plans on giving us some inheritance!"
The Yokai watches them leave, dark eyes shrouded by a heavy brow bone and huffing another deep gust of air. The yokai didn't look all that interested in the two younger turtles, but Michelangelo was still anxious for them to get away so they could leave - if the yokai was looking for him specifically, it meant their secret was out and someone in the world was aware of the doubles. If the universe unravelled any further, Michelangelo didn't think they would be able to knot it back up together.
His vision swims for a second, black dots appearing on the corners and there's a lapse of time that vanishes from beneath him. By the time his vision clears, he's staring at the floor, hands and knees stinging from catching his fall. The ache in his skull was back, expression twisting up in pain he's no longer strong enough to hide. The concussion must be worse than he thought, he never dealt with black outs post head injury. His hand lifts up to his forehead, squinting his uncovered eye and looking up at Donnie and Mikey a few feet away. Mikey just seemed confused, as if Michelangelo was the last person he expected to see, but Donnie's face was down right horrified.
Michelangelo thinks it's an overreaction - he only blacked out for a second - but then there's a roar from behind Mikey and Donnie. There's a flash of purple in the space, sparks of light racing across Donnie's body as a glowing shield extends behind him, however his efforts were too late and once again, Michelangelo finds his whole world exploding.