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afreakingdork · 6 months ago

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You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 2

RotTMNT x Reader

Michelangelo is nothing but art in this chapter art by @kaysdenofchaos

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis: You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛

Done on a whim, it was almost strange how right you’d been when comparing Mikey to the sun. He was a beaming hot star in the sky and he touched the land with his warmth, giving rise to life itself. For whatever reason he extended this beam to you and you were now what you dubbed as his outing friend. A term that was never spoken aloud and therefore not official, you only ever saw Mikey in the context of events. They were meant to thrust you into life and the sun, a gaseous ball that existed with or without you, happened to cast its life giving properties in your direction.

As such, the fear of sunburn, an easy retribution for more time in it, meant that your fraternization wasn’t always the best thing. Overall, the benefits of daily sun intake outweighed such things, but you wished you had been given more time to apply the protective balm necessary. Without aid, you were fast tracking social interactions at a near breakneck pace. Gone were the warm-ups or slow care you required to manage. Instead, Mikey barreled forward as an unrelenting force.

It started with that painting class. Your first invite, you hadn’t really taken into account when ‘next week’ was. Since Pasta Fest had occurred on a Friday, the text saying the class was Tuesday wasn’t technically incorrect, but only four days to prepare seemed absurd. It had taken you over a month to go out for Italian and that mental fortitude was built on an even longer stretch of yearning. Now, not only would you be denied a recovery time, but you also needed to get ready in the blink of an eye. The shortened shift balanced the scales as it was difficult to worry about the logistics of going when you didn’t even know what to wear. Having never painted in a class setting, you weren’t sure what was necessary from clothing to materials.

You had tried to text Mikey what details came with the class, but he was either oddly cagey about it or simply didn’t consider things from your perspective. The latter seemed more apparent as his responses came carefree on how not to worry followed by a sea of memes. It left you raiding your closet. Finding something loose that you wouldn’t mind getting paint on, you took it upon yourself to research the class. The internet told you little more than it was an introduction to oils, so you were left to self-soothe with an endless playlist of painting videos going non-stop until just before the class.

Meeting outside the school, Mikey appeared in casually cut clothes that fit his laid back attitude. Those pieces were then sparked with loud prints or colors that accentuated his bold flare. Tonight’s ensemble illustrated such with lightweight cotton pants that were enveloped by a fuzzy sweater swarmed with giant smiley faces on it. Trying not to think the little dot eyes of them were following you, you were ushered through the door and straight to the correct room without having a fact check once. His confidence knew no bounds as did his reach. He greeted the professor by their first name and you were quick to find that art was yet another field he mastered.

Whisked around the class, Mikey gave you the ins and outs and seemed to know almost every member on a personal level. Those he did not, he introduced you both to and it felt as though you were being shopped around to potential suitors. You were regaled in seemingly outrageous ways he had connected with these people in a way that made you question his career. While he insinuated he was a chef, he was spoken of like some kind of vigilante jack of all trades.

Unsure of what to do with that information, you had little time to dwell as you were set up at an easel. Class began and you were finally given time to breathe. Instruction meant paying attention which quieted other thought. You only now needed to focus on execution. Oil was a slow drying and therefore forgiving medium which meant things could be changed. As long as you didn’t blend too much then you had a chance to repair. As a class for those new to the medium, you were thankfully given a single color palette to avert such a mistake and found comfort in brush strokes blotting little trees.

You’d almost started to enjoy it when a swing of your arm knocked over a jar meant to clean brushes.

A large glass affair, it shattered and spread on to the floor along with your horror. Scrambling so no one would get hurt, you shot forward to pick up one of the largest shards when your foot hooked the easel. In an instant, everything was on the floor, from your painting face down in the muck to your paints which resisted the water but smeared nonetheless on the concrete.

There was also yourself. You’d fallen to your hands and knees where water and paint was rapidly seeping into your outfit. Though it was one you prepared to lose, this wasn’t anywhere near the road you thought would lead to it. A drop was one thing, but you were now as painted as Mikey’s sweater with the entire class staring to boot. Trying not to cry over spilled paints, you used the last of your dignity to at least gather those shards when a canvas shoe stepped right in front of you.

Looking up and feeling the wet sheen on your cheeks, Mikey looked down sympathetically before he dropped. With spread fingers, he swiped through the paints and danced straight through the shards. While he seemed to worry not, you scrambled along the ground to grab the glass amongst the teacher’s worries for both your safeties. You lost sight of Mikey outside of ballet-like spins over your head, but in the process acquired most if not all the glass.

When you finally rose dripping, he moved fluidly toward you and, in a spin and tip-toes, he brought you away from the mess. You both tracked paint, but after a quick trip to a trash can, Mikey released you. You then turned, now the right distance away to see a gorgeous swirling rainbow painted with your mess on the floor. Mikey had manipulated every bit of the spill into a large piece of artwork.

“Right! Sorry about that, Diane! I’m done taking over so let me clean this right up. There’s one of those squeegee brooms in the hall closet, I can just-”

Your head snapped to Mikey with the intent to exclaim on how he’d done this, but nothing came so he watched you with wide eyes until his lips rounded.

“…or we could see about hydro dipping? Not sure it’ll work with this mix, but I couldn’t help but notice that bunch of white shirts over there!” He pointed to where a box was laying half open with a cloth sticking out of it.

“You apologize, but you take over my class yet again.” The teacher, Diane you supposed, mused with her hands on her hips. “Alright, we’ll try it, but you’re replacing the product before the tie-dye class!”

“Of course!”

Switching gears as if this was always the plan, everyone moved their easels out of the way and the class shifted to a more physical one. Discussing the golden ratio and what made Mikey’s floor masterpiece alluring, the teacher went on while you were stuck staring at the mutant who didn’t seem to notice. You meant to follow along, but there was a mesmerizing intensity to the affection on his face.

Your next outing came as a Hockey game which you always knew was going to be a problem. When Mikey invited you, images of rowdy crowds and air horns filled your head. The ghosts of which echoed in your ears as you prepared your denial. Fingers flying over your phone’s keyboard, a text appeared in the awaiting window about how this game was hosted by the seemingly ambiguous family member who had stood him up for the painting class. It was intriguing enough to give you pause.

Another message appeared, this time with Mikey moving to guilt by saying that he alone would have to be her hype man. The other family members were too booked to support this one and your fingers further slowed. With his usual steadfast nature, more texts soon followed noting that the game was on a Wednesday night, meaning it would be slow, and that it was in the children’s league, so there would be barely be a crowd. On your last leg of escape, he’d added that you both could sit anywhere and you were done for as you erased your negating message to pen one that agreed.

In return, he was kind enough to suggest dressing warmly.

Settled in a hoodie and having only minorly debated more layers, Mikey appeared outside the rink looking nonplussed which quelled a few of your nerves. His hands were buried into a particularly brightly tie-dyed hoodie which made you think he had not only been true to his word about replenishing shirt stock, but he had also been in Mrs. Diane’s other class . Wondering just how many hobbies Mikey had, your curiosity vanished when he offered to prepare you for what lay inside.

Your heart soared.

With an upheld finger, Mikey warned that Casey would lead a chant at some point and he would signal you when. It would be a whole affair, but the phrase would be something obvious. There was a chance that a guy running the camera would inevitably point it at you because the operator liked to harass shy patrons. You were to stay still if you appeared on the screen and Mikey would take the heat off. Your concerns about air horns were validated, but you were assured they’d be closer to the ice and telegraphed.

Armed with knowledge, you entered through a pair of double doors and out along rink-side seats. Air cooled, but not enough to breathe smoke, Mikey led you up to a higher section with no one in it. About halfway up the back, you settled into a foldout seat and watched as kids skated around to warm up. Mikey whispered in your ear about which one was Casey and you found her to be a furious looking human woman with an undercut who would continually scream what sounded like battle cries. Trying and failing to ask Mikey exactly how she was related to him, the game started and an announcer came on.

The small crowd was a joyous one and you felt excited as the puck dropped. Sporting events weren’t something you ever attended because everything about them spelled anxiety induced doom, but in this setting it felt bearable. Everyone was shouting, especially the parents who had lined up rinkside, but you almost felt a cozy little barrier from them in your seat choice. In the snow globe, you were looking upon, Mikey was the painted sun in the corner trying to warm a nearly frozen day. Even as jack frost nipped your nose, you would be tempted out, just to soak up the ray where your life had been dreary for weeks.

You were mentally preparing to chance a cheer at the next point when a trumpet sounded to your right.

You jumped straight out of your seat at a height that caused it to fold back up. A drum then joined the horn and as you descended your bottom hit the chair’s lip. It then buckled so you could further drop and sprawl out. Your hands shot forward to grab the armrests in case you slid away and Mikey appeared over you, asking if you were alright. JHeart beating straight out of your chest, you only looked up at him with your lips about to part in a dry sob.

You thought Mikey might help you up, but you watched determination grow on his brow.

With a jump different from yours, he landed in a captain’s pose and looked out at the makeshift band. Spying them, he reached into his coat as if getting a telescope, but instead manifested a kazoo. He counted off with his teacher’s projection before playing a tune. Though the sound wasn’t near as loud as the instruments, something about Mikey’s command had caught the group’s attention. They quickly stopped their discordant sounds and picked up what had to be a known song for these events. You watched with warped awe as Mikey marched, without looking, overtop the armrests to lead the band. Only brave enough to sit up, you watched as the group’s spirits soared with their conductor.

Soon the music drifted to the ice where you heard Casey scream something about listening to the mystic warrior’s battle tune and rallied the kids to destroy their adversaries.

This then spurned the parents until everyone in the place was screaming after Mikey’s little chunk of plastic. The cacophony which should have suffocated you, instead made your heart race as it all felt like a grand escalation. Not the sign of the chant you’d been warned, but something else, a goal was scored just as the buzzer went off. The whole building erupted and, within only a single second of your confusion, Mikey lifted you clear off the ground to spin and explain that they won. Shouting back the question because you couldn’t believe it, he only reaffirmed before setting you down.

Quickly turning back to the ice, you found the kids all tackling each other in slips and slides before Mikey exchanged your body for your hand. You were pulled down to the rink where you didn’t have to fight the masses as they parted naturally for Mikey. Casey watched her kid’s dogpile approvingly and greeted Mikey by his color instead of his name. He introduced you and she immediately gave you a noogie. Crying in her arms over what social barrier you had mistakenly overstepped, she released the mess of you saying you were a good luck charm and she expected you at future games. Not sure how you’d handle that, you thankfully didn’t have to as more people appeared and the conversation moved away from your recurring attendance.

Exiting found you gushing to Mikey about everything you had seen.

He was uncharacteristically quiet as he listened attentively with his hands in his hoodie pockets.

Your event successes were then cosmically balanced as you were forced to then cancel the next two events in a row.

The first being glass blowing, you especially felt terrible as this was their last public event before they had some sort of big project that would require full use of their studio. Every day a week up until the event, you’d tried to first ignore and then fend off your oncoming cold, but it was too late. Whatever bacteria that had taken root in your body triggered a fever the day of and even when you tried to ready yourself with a mask just to power through, you’d nearly collapsed in a coughing fit.

It meant that a phone call cancellation was out of the question and, for once, you were the one to send Mikey walls of texts in the form of at least three dozen separate apologies.

There was the non-refundable ticket price.

Your last minute abandonment.

The way you’d destroyed his only chance to go.

Swimming in a commingling of snot and tears from the exchange, Mikey sent you an audio response. Stopping crying only because you were forced to, you played it to find his lips a little too close to the microphone as he told you it was fine for what you quickly caught on was the exact number of apologies you had sent to him. Dotting the message off confirming that, he told you that money wasn’t really a thing to his family and that there would always be a next time.

Quickly writing back that he should go without you, another message popped up just as you hit send.

The play button on that one had a continuation where he explained the time limit to the spoken messages and that he’d rather wait for you with some cheesy line about it being an excuse to still see you four months from now. Laughing and then immediately choking for it, you thanked him and ordered yourself some soup from a place he recommended.

One had been fine, but two felt like pushing it.

Recovery came slowly for you, but you did eventually get better. The only thing was not all your ailments were of the tangible variety. Though your body had been repaired, your mind wasn’t so lucky and it was with utter dismay that you had to cancel your next event, a pottery class, simply because it was a bad anxiety day. Waking up knowing you were already in for it, you spent the day toiling in and out of attacks until the thought of even texting him was too much. You’d left work early to crawl into your bed to face the sea of brain inducing zaps and could only offer him stunted cancellation without grounds.

It took hours, but the next time you were able to bear looking at your phone it seemed the only thing that had kept Mikey from coming to see if you were still alive was that he didn’t know your address. Sending exhausted reassurances, you resisted promising a reschedule because it currently seemed like an impossibility.

Now standing in the face of a rock climbing wall, you almost wished it had been.

Guilt was the only thing that had gotten you here. You had been clear with Mikey that sporting events themselves were already not your thing and you thought by extension that participating in them yourself fell into the same category. Seemingly not, he’d pressed, not quite about your prior cancellations, but referring to coming here as the perfect way to catch up after not seeing each other for so long. Miserable and forced to confirm your attendance based on your delinquency alone, Mikey tugged on your harness.

“All good! Try for the first few hand holds and I’ll keep watch!”

Looking back at him with obvious horror, he only gave a thumbs up in response.

Returning to the colorful wads of gum that marked where you grab, you dusted your hands with a fine powder for traction before catching the first and trying to hoist yourself up.

After three consecutive falls where you never made it more than a foot off the wall, you were ready to throw in the towel.

Completely unperturbed, Mikey was walking you through his seventh explanation of how to do it when you heard someone scoff right behind you. Flinching into the fake rocks and knowing exactly why, you wished you could cave the whole system in and bury yourself.

“Some people just aren’t made to climb!” The voice spat before you heard an aggressive slap of someone latching onto the wall a little too close to you.

Further shirking away and into Mikey, he didn’t offer the least bit of comfort as he rounded you. “Have you been climbing long?”

Eyes cracking open a little, you couldn’t believe how even Mikey’s voice was.

He almost sounded friendly.

“Years!” The man retorted proudly where he was somewhere up halfway already. “You have to understand. There should be kiddie hours and adult swim. Lately this place has been swarmed with newbies and they take up so much space!”

“That has to be frustrating, especially when you just want to climb.”

You stole a glimpse to find the offending man blink with a registration that his complaints had not only been noticed, but seemingly hadn’t been judged. “Yeah… I… work all day, ya know? I just want to burn off some steam somewhere where I can get some upper mobility!”

“I do.” Mikey nodded as if he were stuck in some dead end job.

Was that true?

What was happening?

One minute this guy hated your guts and the next he’s spilling his motives.

Mikey had only said a few words at most.

None of them seemed particularly targeted.

It was that way he had spoken.

He had some innate ability to manipulate exchanges to his favor.

If he wanted to make you feel welcome, you’d feel it the moment he spoke those words into reality.

Knowing the same had happened to you, you heard a holler and looked up to find both men now scaling the wall at an alarming degree. Mind spinning as Mikey wasn’t wearing a harness, the pair only gave a few grunts before Mikey leaped up and slapped a bell. You took two large stumbling steps back as Mikey then landed with a squat right next to where you had just been.

Mikey rose all too easily from where he’d just leapt 18 total feet.

Eyes blown wide, you stumbled toward him in a frantic check to make sure his bones weren’t out of place.

Mikey didn’t address you and instead threw up a radiant smile to the man still on the wall. “Told ya!”

“You win!” The guy laughed back down.

Scented with a certain amount of fear, you were filled in on the climbing competition that had been struck up and Mikey introduced the man with his first and last name. Unable to believe this was someone Mikey already knew, you quickly found out it wasn’t. Instead, in the short few seconds you were thinking everything over, Mikey had somehow contracted this man into his echelon of friends.

Watching the pair bump fists, you could only wonder how Mikey was real. He had to be some figment your imagination had come up with to cope with your constant fear. There was no way a man this incredible could both exist and want to be near you for any length of time. You were a speck compared to him and must have been a drag upon his very being.

You held him back.

You kept him down.

Why you?

You wondered that all the way out of the gym that day and beyond. The texts still came. Mikey still for all intents and purposes was only doing what he cared to do and that for some inane reason was continuing his friendship with you. When you’d met he’d said something about spoiling you, but you had figured that was some kind of warped joke.

Now. you wondered.

That intrigue only increased when he said he’d make up for the climbing incident with a low stakes board game night.

He was keeping your ability in mind for once and that had given you strength enough to agree. Apparently some local club had opened up their meet-ups for new contenders. It was exactly your sort of speed outside the new people to meet. They were contentious in your mind, but you had played many a board games in your years. It was a safe activity as long as the right board was chosen and the best low key way to hang out with the few friends you had. Never once having had a table flipped on you, you enjoyed the various rules enough and most known games stood the test of time. Wondering if you should bring one of your own, Mikey texted you to wait to see how it goes though he liked your eager attitude.

Telling him you were going to crush it, you only wished now that you hadn’t allowed yourself to get so cocky. Something you should have known by the way their ad had been worded. These people weren’t playing Monopoly. They were playing intricate games that spanned lifetimes in which you had to manage literal civilizations while also plotting conquest of nations. There were pandemics to avoid and zombie outbreaks to survive. Each game lengthy and with a set of rules the size of a novel, you struggled through the first game before the overwhelmingness of it all caught your throat.

Silence found you trapped as the other players screamed at each other. You had been thrust into a cooperative form of a game that had once been about beating each other out on tokens. Not sure when the switch had occurred, a second lengthy rule book had emerged and you were trying to parse out the totally new set of rules when it was ripped from your hands. You were told to learn as you went and no amount of mumbling your confusion swayed the other players. Not knowing what you were doing, one of your decisions had led to your ultimate demise. Whatever was happening now, it seemed the gist was that in two turns everyone would lose and it had all come to fruition based on a move you had taken what seemed like hours ago.

Though no one had actually attacked you personally for it, they had brought up your move over and over as they desperately tried to strategize a way to still win.

“This was why I said we shouldn’t open the game nights up…”

The remark had been passive.

One meant for the person next to the commenter.

Not for your ears, but you’d heard it.

It had somehow cut through the rabble rousing and you sank so far down in your chair until you nearly folded in half.

Mikey’s silence wasn’t helping.

He’d also written you off.

You knew you shouldn’t rely on him to save you every time, but he was your guiding light.

Wasn’t it an unspoken agreement that he would take charge?

You’d told him about your troubles first thing.

He had a front row seat to your spirals.

He also never stepped in until damage was done.

Had that been intentional?

He had so much on his plate, how could you expect him to notice everything?

You didn’t.

This was a board game.

Not the end of the world.

There’d be more games.

Not all were easy to win.

There were no stakes.

You just wouldn’t ever come to this particular group again.

That was fine.

There were millions of people in New York.

Ready to call it an early night, a voice cut through the arguing.

“What if I use my movement to return to Costa Rica?”

All heads at the table swiveled to Mikey, who had a finger curled under his chin as he stared at the board.

“That’s insane!”

“Back to…?”

“Wait…”

“Grab the rules!!”

Staring from the outside in, you watched the table erupt as planning switched gears. Someone announced it was possible and from there they began to bicker over what little chance that gave them. Finding a sliver of hope, they grabbed a paper and drew out the steps just in case. If followed exactly it would be a winning combination and they went through the motions with only a few dice rolls standing in their way. Clearing them as if on fate, the whole table rocketed upwards to congratulate each other.

A single tear slid down your face.

How did he always do that?

You hated yourself for thinking less of Mikey. You should have known better than to imagine him regretting bringing you to make him the fool. He didn’t think like that. The Mikey you had come to know was the sun. He continued to scorch the earth even when she put up her defenses. Just above atmosphere, he burned unperturbed. His sheer desire to be alive and live was indomitable. It was that fight that had taken him to calculated silence. He waged his celestial war in the quiet of his mind. Looking for that one little shred of hope, the ones he somehow always got his fingers on, he yanked the tapestry of life and rewove it to how he saw fit.

You were a joke.

His complete opposite in every possible way.

All you did was give up.

Run away.

Quietly getting up while the others drilled Mikey on how he’d done it, you left. Going straight home, you avoided Mikey’s texts for the next few weeks. Not strong enough to quit him completely, you did read all of them at nearly all hours which held its own culpability. He surely saw all your read receipts and you almost wished it would sour his opinion of you. Maybe then he would finally move on and you could start this process anew. You should have known better than to think you could hitch your wagon to someone else’s. You were supposed to venture out alone. This process had been about you wanting to do more. Mikey was too selfless for his own good. He didn’t realize he was dragging himself down. The space would help.

The only problem was, it didn’t.

Mikey didn’t seem to care that you never responded. He moved forward tenaciously and even invited you out two more times. You’d scorned the messages, but time had done something to you. You reflected on how surreal it all was. You’d warped your image of Mikey without realizing it. You’d given him godlike command over others. You thought him some kind of manipulator that could get anyone to do his bidding. It felt comical. A rewind found him instead ignorant of scorn or even happiness. He simply forged his own path so authentically that others couldn’t help to be drawn in no matter what their side. You swore he must have the ability to turn even the most speciesist person over into a mutant advocate given the chance.

He was your idol.

That skirted more tedious titles, but you refused to put him on a pedestal. It was because of his failings that he now appeared an achievable image. He was the golden standard of what you wished you could be. He was utterly immune to social anxiety and you craved the pride in which he held himself. He still retained his sun moniker, but now it was one of a laissez-faire ruler. Life may have proliferated from him, but not because of him. There were other powers at work, but his status was attainable. You could mimic him like a lowly sunflower that had forced its way through the concrete. You could move with him. You could catch his rays as he passed you by.

The only thing you couldn’t figure out was what he got out of it. The him that was a person should have written you off as a moot point, but he hadn’t given up. Messages continued to roll in. The negative thoughts said he should have long ago, but another argued that you were yet another thing he chose to fight for. When you had seen him, he hadn’t shied away one bit. He’d thrown himself and, by proxy, you into each foray and fixed the outcome if it wasn’t to his liking.

He never once complained.

He’d told you it was fine hundreds of times.

He hadn’t dismissed your feelings.

He’d tried to reroute them.

Staring at your phone for yet another sleepless night, you saw he asked if you wanted to try something low-key next. His next few messages seemed to indicate that he thought maybe you’d been overwhelmed and had needed to take a step back. He said that he understood and mentioned something about two of his brothers who experienced the same thing. Promising only the utmost comfort by going to see a movie, you could only think he was too bright and that wasn’t just because your phone’s brightness was the only thing illuminating your dark room.

He was still singeing you.

The little burns would pile up.

The warmth was also undeniable.

Whatever it was he saw in you though, you were thankful for it. Whether he was oblivious or his spirit was something ethereally burning, your absence wasn’t one he worried over. In contrast, you felt a dangerous flicker as you pondered how easy it would be to take advantage of him. As you’d seen time and time again, once he decided something, he rolled with it. It didn’t matter how you and others treated him; he wanted to see the best in others.

Heart sinking, you wondered how many people had hurt him. It had to be impossible because he could turn anyone into his fan with only a few choice words, but there was still a chance.

You didn’t want that from him.

You: Aren’t you worried?

Chef: About what?

You waited for the inevitable message asking why you hadn’t responded, but it never came.

You: That I might not be a good person?

You watched the bubbles percolate before dozens of messages started to flood on your screen. Some testimonials and mostly things he felt, he dismissed your claims in his usual motormouth way. In or out of the digital world, you had always loved to listen. It took the conversational burden off of you and Mikey was made for that. Even if it was clear he sometimes missed your responses, you couldn’t be mad because he shared the whole of himself. To you it only felt like the pittance to pay in order to stand in his glory. You were gaining so much from him; there was no way you could question your guide. From how far you’d come and all the things you’d done, the night you met almost seemed like a distant memory.

Going alone had taken months of preparation.

In that same time frame, you’d done more with Mikey than you’d done in your entire life.

Isn’t that what the movies taught?

People were stronger together.

How could you return to a world without him there with you?

You: When and where did you want to do the movie?

You: Is there a theater near both of us?

You: Or would that be too much?

You: I realize now that I don’t know where you live…

You: Don’t feel like you have to tell me!

You: Also

You: Thank you

How could you make it mean more?

Two words didn’t sum up how you felt.

About him finding you.

About him continuing to see you.

About him not giving up on you.

You could say it.

You could show it.

After a light discussion ironing out the specifics, a time slot was booked and plans were set. For all intents and purposes, everything had returned to normal, but this time you were prepared. You were going to be worthy of his time. A student with a gold star, you did your best to keep up with his messages until the day of. Meeting after work, Mikey offered to walk you to the theater as what he phrased as your bodyguard. Laughing at the imagery of him bouncing your bad thoughts away, he mentioned where he’d be arriving from which was an approximation of his address.

When you looked it up it had been a block with what you thought were empty buildings.

You couldn’t put it past Mikey to have some sort of kitschy bobby like flipping houses. You wondered where and when he picked up carpentry when you emerged from your apartment to find him right on time waiting out front. Greeting you easily, you started down the street and made it a few blocks before he stopped dead. Not as quick as him, you made it a few more feet before you turned to find him patting himself down in a flurry. Arms moving faster than you could track, he went a new shade of pale green under the streetlamp.

“I left my phone at home!”

Going on high alert, you fumbled for yours. “Y-you h-have the t-tickets, b-but I think… um…? D-did you… send me a c-copy?”

“Did I!?” He appeared over your shoulder to look down at your device as he turned his pockets out.

“O-Oh…” You scrolled through the texts and found he’d only told you the details. “No…”

He clicked his tongue. “Ugh! So dumb!! I left my wallet too!”

“M-maybe you c-could login with m-my-”

“Let’s swing by my place, it’ll only take a second.” He groaned to the sky.

Startling to attention, you stuttered nonsense.

From the area he gave you, it wasn’t far, but it certainly wasn’t close.

If you headed there and backtracking then you’d be cutting it close to the movie time.

“Come on! It’s this way!” He gestured and took few leading steps backward.

Your phone seemed to complain about the time, but the impatient thunk of his shoes moved you to follow him.

You were curious about what he described as a lair.

The oddest choice when it came to nicknaming your house, he went on about how their last place was blown up before they found this one. Unable to place whatever reference he was making, a few turns took you to a less populated area. Nervously sticking close to your light, you descended a dirty old stairwell to where a door was chained up. With what looked like a wave of his hand, Mikey undid the metal and opened the entrance with a sweeping gesture. Staring into a black abyss, you made a nervous sound which caused Mikey to look up.

Seeing what he’d opened to, he laughed at himself. “Kinda horrifying when you haven’t memorized the steps. Let’s use your phone’s flashlight.”

Doing that in a few clicks, he hopped ahead after locking the door back up and, for a moment, you thought the worse. Trapped down where no one would ever find you, Mikey could have been playing some long con and you were about to disappear for good. Not wanting that, you trembled a little as Mikey continued forward. He whistled a jaunty tune and left you without choice. You scrambled after him as he led you down to an old subway station where he jumped down onto the rails. Overlooking the drop yourself, you found him holding his hands up as if to catch you.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got you and this old thing’s out of service. The access door is literally right around the corner from here!”

You decided that if you were going to die at least your final moments had been interesting.

Doing what had to be the worst leap, Mikey caught you with ease and set you down as if he’d done that a hundred times. His lackadaisical show of strength came as an auspicious one. If he wasn’t out to kill you, he could surely protect you. As if reading your thoughts, he filled the empty air with talk security in place. From what had to be jokes about lasers to something about surveillance, you wondered who would ever want to hurt Mikey.

You were left guessing as, true to his word, it had been a short walk to said entrance.

Mikey gave another bowing offer by opening the door for you and you were led through a set of contrastingly well lit tunnels. It spoke of life even if the space was barren and you headed toward what appeared to you as a subway depot. A place where cars were stored for later, there were several laid out on various tracks and soft fairy lights strung over nearly every part of the ceiling.

“Welcome to the turtle all-in-one super lair!” Mikey spun away from you with his hands in the air.

Unable to keep your eyes in one spot, you saw gorgeous graffiti layered on the walls and that the place was tidy though clearly lived in. Mikey went on a new tangent about how the cars had been retrofitted into rooms and how one day, when he had more time, he would show you the kitchen. Not anywhere near processing his words, you were left as he politely excused himself to get his missing items.

Hang tight, he said.

You could spend hours here, as if in a museum, and not see everything.

You thought you responded, but your mouth hung open at the expanse. You gaped as you traced the architecture to where an atrium opened up and revealed three stories. Stairs moved around like an Escher painting and you could only imagine their limitless possibilities. They breathed life and soft music poured down the steps closest to you. Wandering closer to take a peek, you found faint light was also escaping from what had to be a television.

You had already chosen to stop when a sharp silhouette interrupted the glow.

What had Mikey told you?

You couldn’t remember, but you felt like you were snooping.

It was on that instinct that you ducked behind the brick archway.

Steps soon matched the shape that moved at a leisurely pace.

Your heart beat a nervous clock when you saw a blue-coded turtle.

You placed him instantly.

Mikey loved photographs.

This was Leonardo.

He hit the landing with bowed legs as he walked and read a comic at the same time.

You were very much gawking.

He was slow to stop and, when he did, he took a deep breath.

His head then snapped to your direction with sharpened focus. “Yeah, maybe you missed the no soliciting sign, but…!”

Comic gone, he was all blue light and swords.

You flailed frantically. “I’m with Mikey!!”

Cold steel stopped inches from your face and Leonardo’s whole demeanor shifted. “Oh, wait! Y/N? Didn’t you two have a movie tonight?

“H-h-h-h-he f-f-f-forg-got h-h-his w-w-w-allet…!!!” You didn’t think you could manage the another word.

“H-h-h-huh.” Leo remarked back, not quite mocking. “You cold or something? Don’s got the temp set to something good I thought.”

With a shrug, his weapons disappeared in another flash.

Star.

This man was a shooting star.

He burned with flashes of ferocity so bright you had to turn away.

From what you’d been told, he commanded even more.

From what you could see, you bet he could also disappear just as well as his swords.

Unable to get a steady voice, your gaze hit the floor.

You felt Leo continue to evaluate you. “You good?”

You nodded.

He’d think you were insane.

Your actions didn’t sync up with your lack of words at all.

You felt him smile more than you saw it. “Did Mikey ever tell you about the time he got his skateboard stuck in a sewer grate?”

Blinking a few times, you were shy to peer at Leo. “M-mikey.. .skateboards?

Leo’s wicked grin split his face. “We all did.”

You watched on with growing interest.

“I can’t believe I put my wallet in the microwave again!” Mikey clambered down the stairs.

“-and that’s why Mikey was the last of us to be potty trained!”

You giggled from behind your hand.

“Nope!!!” Mikey screeched on the last step. “Leo, what are you doing!?!”

“You left your friend here all alone!” Stepping through the large space Leo had given you, the blue turtle moved behind you to gently take each of your upper arms as if to show you off. “I was entertaining our guest! Being a good host! Filling them in on all your most embarrassing memories! Normal stuff!”

You chewed your lip to keep from laughing.

“They’re lies!!! All of them!! Lies!!!” In a fit of anxiety you watched Mikey claw around him.

Where there was nothing, he caught something and he ripped the air with a tear of orange light.

Life force leaving you, you felt Leo’s grip tighten as Mikey shoved through the hole he’d somehow created.

You didn’t hear the second rip as much as you saw it appear next to you.

Mikey then walked out of it and into your face. “What did he tell you!?”

You gasped like a fish taking its last breath.

A ominous shadow appeared, casting darkness over Mikey’s overly wound form.

Only you looked up to find a hulking red turtle that you knew to be Raphael.

The eldest used the whole of his hand to grab Mikey’s shell.

He then lifted the turtle straight into the air, away from you, while you leaned so far back into Leo that you thought you’d be on the ground otherwise.

“You’re making a racket! Both of you cut it out! You’re freaking people out!” Raph huffed and you couldn’t shake how he was at least ten times the size that he appeared in any photo you’d ever seen of him. “Sorry about that. Y/N, right? I’m Raph, nice to meet’cha!”

This was their ground.

Large and all encompassing, this man had to be their rock.

Not just because he was big enough to support all of them on his carapace, in that sense he was the size of the Earth, but because his very essence oozed compassion.

You imagined he worked twice as hard as Sisyphus.

“That being said…” Raph dropped his scolding for a snicker. “Which story did you go with, Lee? Potty training?”

Mikey screamed and fought his air jail.

He was also very much a big brother.

“Oh yeah!” Leo cooed triumphantly. “And the bull story and the skateboard-gum incident!”

Flames exploded and Raph flicked his hands as if bacon grease had splattered up at him.

Once again, Leo was your cane as you watched Mikey shake off being on actual fire like it was a few measly water droplets.

“No more!!!” Once doused, Mikey caught you and pulled you straight away from Leo.

Crashing into his hard plastron you heard Leo and Raph chorus for Mikey to be careful.

“We have to go! Movie starting and all!” Mikey screamed to the ceiling.

“We haven’t all introduced ourselves!” Raph added, sounding a bit sad.

“Speak for yourself.” Leo rolled his eyes.

“Did you? Or did you launch straight into humiliatin’ our lil bro?” Raph’s brow ridge rose under his mask.

“Hey look, there’s Donnie!” Leo waved just as Mikey yanked on your arm trying to get you away.

You looked over to where a fourth, purple clad turtle had just descended the stairs. Caught like a wild animal on film, he was the picture of a gremlin. Hunched forward, goggles down, in a stained hoodie, and holding an ungodly sandwich with a calories count the likes of which you had never seen from a home kitchen, the man only reviewed Mikey with a sort of tepid affection before staring you down with what you could only identify as malice.

Mikey released you and jumped the distance to tackle the new brother.

Donnie dropped his hatred for a smile and twisted around so his sandwich would remain unharmed as he caught his younger brother.

If that wasn’t a reflection of the sun, you didn’t know what was.

With a cold icy exterior that sat in the dark expanse of space, Donatello had to be the moon in your little cosmic parallels.

Mikey nuzzled his cheek to Donnie’s and, with his free arm, the older brother carried the younger back over.

That gaze, merciless and seemingly ever-present, Donnie glowered at you all the way until he deposited Mikey by your side.

“I knew you had a face only pops could love, but damn Don, if you keep mean muggin’ like that and you’re gonna lose your last fan!” As soon as Mikey was gone, Leo tried to slot himself against the purple man.

Donnie looked like he had a retort, but he bit down on it to sidestep at the last second and caused the blue brother to fall onto his face.

Raph’s large hands dragged down his cheeks so hard that it peeled his lower lids. “Why can we never get through introductions!?”

“Because you don’t take threats seriously.” Donnie turned from an outright glare in your direction to a stewing nature towards the oldest.

“Now hold on!” Raph threw an annoyed finger in Donnie’s face. “Raph is the king worrier! You all know that. Right, Mike?”

“Raph has the worry crevice.” Mikey nodded.

“Right!” Raph started and then spun around, offended. “Wait! No! Not this again!”

“Told ya!” Leo pumped his fists from where he was still on the ground, now reclined as if he’d always been that way.

Mikey mentioned villains.

It had been a joke, right?

Mikey mentioned calamities.

That was just New York.

Mikey mentioned powers.

He had the emotional prowess of a psyhcologist.

Mikey had mentioned so many, many things.

Mikey had said so much.

Too much.

None of it had felt real.

Mikey had a penchant for exaggeration.

It only hit you then.

These were the heroes who saved New York.

They saved the planet.

They’d been a rumor.

They’d then been famous.

Fame tapered off.

They had returned to whispers.

Taking a step back from them all, you felt precariously placed.

You weren’t supposed to see this.

Mikey had ripped through space-time and you were now supposed to go see a movie with him.

You couldn’t imagine sitting next to him for two odd hours knowing what he could do.

He’d combusted into flames.

Leo had reached through space as well.

What could the others do?

Had Mikey told you?

They were so strong.

Your earlier thoughts of disappearing reared their head.

They couldn’t just kill you, they could eradicate you.

Stumbling slightly, words trickled off your lips. “I-I’m here because M-Mikey… w-wants me to be...”

Why had you said that?

Were you trying to convince yourself?

Did you believe that?

“Oh-me-gosh!” Mikey gasped and, in two skipping steps, he hugged you. “Y/N! You said it! You actually said it! No pity or anything!”

You nodded against him, feeling your body wilt as your brain rallied about what he was capable of.

Spinning up off the floor, everything blurred. “You’ve come so far! I’m so proud!! Good job, good job!!”

You saw snippets of the others as if time stopped when you passed them.

Raph smiling in a knowing way.

Leo grinning mischievously.

Donnie’s grimace.

A sound came from Mikey’s phone and he took the time to set you down methodically before grabbing it. “The movie! We’re so late! Oh man!! The credits are gonna start!! I wanted to see what’s coming soon!”

Leo sat up, rolling his shoulders in a stretch. “What’s the address?”

“One million Run of the Mill pizzas to you good sir!!!” Mikey cried happy tears and dropped to a knee that honored the glory of his brother.

“If only your tab wasn’t already worth ten lifetimes!” Leo bemoaned as with a flick, there was a sword back in his hand and he sliced open a large blue disc right into the air.

“Eh, I’ll serve my sentence eventually.” Mikey laughed brightly as he tugged you through and you both appeared right in front of the movie theater. You had to take a moment not to throw up.

💛NEXT💛

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