#dee makes fun of him the second he makes it to the altar and he just fuckin shoves her off the platform

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These days.

Inspired by both my utter salt for the current brother-brother dynamics in canon, and the song These Days by the Black Keys.

Previous part, and AO3 version of the series.

Chapter summary:

Tell a kid enough times that he's stupid, useless, and a screw up- and he'll probably be just that. In his actions and mind both.

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Part Two.

There’s a moment, watching for Donnie’s reaction, that Mikey’s scared his brother will say no. That he’ll refuse to let Mikey go with him, and instead will leave him alone in the lair, with just their brothers and a silent altar for company.

Mikey doesn’t want that. He really, really doesn’t want that. If Donnie disappears and leaves him then Mikey doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He’s scared for an awful, drawn out moment- that Donnie will say no, and Mikey will get left behind. Trapped, because he’s not smart enough to form his own escape. He doesn’t know where he could go or how he could get there. This is his one chance, and Donnie holds it in his hands.

Then, Donnie says “-of course you can.” and Mikey nearly drowns in relief.

He doesn’t know what he would have done if Donnie had said no. He doesn’t know if he could have accepted it quietly. He wouldn’t have told on Donnie, wouldn’t have given away Donnie’s escape-

But Mikey knows he wouldn’t have been happy either. He would have been scared, because whenever Donnie finally left… Mikey would be the only one left to face the evitable anger of their brothers.

Mikey buries that fear, smiles best he can in gratitude to his brother, and offers up any help he can give.

    There’s something to falling. The split second between hitting the ground and the time it takes to get there. It’s an important part of learning ninjutsu; learning how to take a blow, roll with it, and come back up swinging.

Mikey feels like he’s got it down to an art, that he’s the undisputed master of falling down. He says that to himself as a comfort, as he takes a blow from Raph during training, and takes only a split second to get back on his feet. Stars in his eyes don’t bother him, because Mikey has fought with worse in his way.

He feels Leo’s eyes on him, Donnie’s too, as he and Raph keep sparring. They’re both watching him- or maybe they’re just waiting for Raph to wipe the floor with him already.

It’s hand to hand combat night. A special training session, for when they lose their weapons in battle. They’ve done it lots of times before, just… not with Leo in charge.

Hand to hand combat night is always Raph’s favorite. Always. And Mikey always gets paired up with him. Always.

Maybe it’s because of how well he can roll with things, since Leo and Raph would just get into competition, and Donnie would give up less than a minute in.

Mikey raises to block too late, and his jaw aches from the impact. He lists to the side, and a solid force against his chest knocks out both his breath and his legs. Mikey falls down, and skids across the floor. He takes it like a champ though, only momentarily struggling to breathe right.

Leo calls the match, and Raph is declared the obvious winner. Mikey raises himself back off the ground, shaking off the worst of his fall, and answers Leo’s quick question if he’s alright.

He’s fine. It’s just one fall, just a few hits. He’s totally fine!

Mikey gives a winning smile, despite being the loser, and ignores his bruised chin. He ignores Raph’s scoff at how badly he’d lost, and he ignores Leo’s reminder that they’re going to have to work even harder on Mikey’s training.

He doesn’t have to ignore Donnie, because Donnie is already doing just that to Mikey. Donnie’s eyes might’ve been following the whole fight, but glancing at them now, Mikey can see Donnie probably hasn’t really seen anything for the last while.

Mikey dusts himself off, and obeys his new Sensei’s commands for another spar round, this time against Donnie. “Because that way you’ll be evenly matched,” Leo reasons, and Mikey pretends very hard that the words don’t sound condescending.

Mikey smiles, agrees, and playfully exclaims that this time it’ll be different, that he’s the one who’s going to beat his opponent. He adds a laugh or two, and pretends he doesn’t hear the slight mocking tone to Raph’s joining laughter.

Mikey’s the best at falling, though he falls considerably less when he’s sparring with Donnie. As he slides his feet into position, raising his arms and ignoring where they hurt from Raph’s fists, Mikey doesn’t feel nervous facing down his closest sibling. Dealing with Donnie, he rarely does.

Donnie doesn’t seem like he’s feeling much of anything on the surface, and Mikey isn’t sure if this makes it easier or harder.

Leo’s call to start the fight comes, and Mikey charges in.

Afterwards, Mikey trails after his elder siblings, and doesn’t look at how Donnie doesn’t look at any of them, and he smiles and smiles and smiles and ignores how everything hurts.

    Mikey is glad at least, that that was the last one. The last spar session he had to endure, and the last time he had to pretend so fiercely. For now.

They have to go back. Eventually. Some time. But not now. Not yet.

Mikey holds both those things close to his chest, and ignores how confusing everything feels.

He’s good at that. Ignoring things. Not thinking about the things he’s ignoring. He can do it so well that whole hours will pass by without him thinking about a single thing!

If he does it well enough these days, it’s like his father never died.

Mikey does this in his new home, the new lair- no, the station. He’s calling it the station, and he knows that Donnie has been too. It’s theirs, not the lair. It doesn’t have to be like their old home unless they want it to be.

Mikey doesn’t know if he wants it to be like home or not. He admits to himself that yeah, he wants to bring back how things used to be. Like, really how they used to be. When they were kids and their dad was alive.

Mikey misses being a kid, much as his brothers call him childish as it is. He misses being a real kid. A real kid who got to pretend fun things, like being an astronaut or a fireman, and not that his shoulders and arms didn’t hurt. That his laughter was real even when it really, really isn’t, way too often.

Mikey misses his dad. He misses his home. He misses not feeling scared.

He ignores all of that, and ignores the creeping feelings of none of this being real, and focuses on mindless stuff. Things that get his thoughts to turn into fun ones instead of gloomy ones. He binges movies and monkeys with his action figures and kitty and tries to not think about what his brothers must be doing right then.

WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?!?!? – that’s the latest message from Raph. One of ten others with similar wordings, some with different meanings. Sometimes they’re threats about if they’re not somewhere in danger, how Raph will make them regret making him worry like he is. Sometimes they’re pleads for them to just answer one text at least, to let them know that they’re really alright.

Mikey doesn’t answer any of the texts, doesn’t answer any of the calls, and he can’t figure out why he doesn’t just turn his phone off completely.

It’s been five days. Five whole days, and Mikey is maybe going a bit stir crazy from cooping himself up inside all the time.

Donnie… isn’t always all there, locked up in his new lab like he is. And when he emerges, it’s a flip between what Donnie Mikey will get. Sometimes it’s the anxious one, sometimes it’s the blank one. On occasion, it’s the one who will smile, and ask what Mikey wants to make for dinner that night.

Mikey doesn’t really know how to deal with any of those Donnie’s, much as he likes the last one. He hadn’t been required to deal with Donnie except for the bare minimum at home. They’d kept to their individual lanes, crossing over only when their brothers brought them all together.

Mikey doesn’t know what to do, really, with all the time they have together now. So he lapses into habit, and tries to work with what he knows.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Donnie is talking, fast and excited, and Mikey is halfway into his head already. Everything is going above Mikey’s area of knowledge, and he’s completely lost as Donnie prattles on about tubers and spores and nutrient soil levels, and before he knows it-

“Why are you even doing this?” He says, disinterested and bored. “We got lots of food. We don’t need some stupid garden. All it sounds like is a bunch more work for us. Can’t we just watch TV or somethin’ instead?”

And Donnie stops short, and Mikey sees the enthusiasm recede. Gone, slipped under the cover Donnie always has. And Mikey immediately regrets opening his big stupid mouth at all.

“You’re right,” Donnie says, vagueness slipping into his voice. “You’re right. Why- why would we- no, we don’t. You’re right. Excuse me, I’ll just- go put away some things.”

Mikey sits up from his slouch on the sofa, reaching after Donnie as he starts to leave. “Dee, wait-”

“No, it’s fine, never mind, Mikey,” Donnie says, stepping out of Mikey’s range. “It’s fine. It was just an idea.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“-it doesn’t matter, okay? Just let me-”

“-I’m sorry! I just- I didn’t get what you were on about, just let me try again, I didn’t mean to say-”

“-you did and it doesn’t matter so let go of me-”

“-I’m sorry!” Mikey exclaims, holding fast to Donnie’s hand, even as he tugs at it. “I’m sorry!”

Donnie stops tugging, but maybe that’s worse, because he’s not looking at Mikey at all anymore. He’s gone distant, and that’s probably- yeah, yeah that’s definitely worse.

“…I’m sorry,” Mikey says again, quieter. “I wasn’t paying attention and you lost me. I was just… my show was on and I couldn’t focus on both you and the TV…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Donnie says, even quieter than Mikey is speaking. “It was just an idea. Let go of me, Mikey.”

And Mikey let’s go, because he knows that Donnie dislikes that just as much as Mikey does. Being held against your will.

Donnie doesn’t say anything as he leaves, and the door to his lab shutting, locking audibly, sends an echo through their station.

Mikey stands still for that moment, hearing and regretting that Donnie is literally locking Mikey out again- and he kicks the coffee table a moment after. Angrily, directionless. Because he has literally nowhere else to aim it.

He grabs his skateboard and nunchaku from his room, and to escape the stifling tension he’s gone and made with Donnie, Mikey ventures outside their sanctuary for the first time in five days.

    Mikey likes being loud. He likes being so loud that he can’t hear anything else except for himself. So loud that he feels like he could make the walls shake and the sewer tunnels fill with nothing but sound. Loud enough he can’t hear anything.

But he can also be quiet. So quiet, no one can hear him even existing. So silent and not there that he can come and go without anyone noticing until it’s too late, and then he’s gone. Sometimes, he can be so quiet that not even his dad had been able to find him.

Mikey skates and runs and leaps across the city roofs, silent and unseen. There’s no one left to hide from, but he hides anyways. In shadows and blind spots, making his way steadily to the one other place he knows he’s welcome, and more importantly, safe.

For however short a time he stays there, at least. Because where he’s going, he knows that his older brothers know of it, and Mikey can’t linger forever. Can’t risk it.

It’s a risk to go to the Mutanimal’s hideout, slipping in through the air ducts on the top of the warehouse. It’s a huge risk, because like Donnie had said when Mikey suggested going here, it’s a place their brothers know of and are welcome in.

Exampled by the fact that as Mikey slides into the rafters of the darkest corner, he hears two voices he’s been dreading hearing again so soon.

Mikey goes still, and wills himself to stop existing.

His heart thrums, fast and fearful, as he listens to the conversations below. No one can see him- he’s sure of that at least- but he can’t be too careful. Mikey can hide and fall and take hits better than any of them- but Leo and Raph are the A-team for a reason. They’re just better at what Mikey tries and often fails to do. They just are.

Which, as Mikey’s body locks up and turns him to stone, is why he isn’t budging another inch until he’s sure they won’t sense his presence.

Mikey stays there in his rafter, not listening at all until his brothers leave. He doesn’t hear anything as he waits. Nothing at all. He doesn’t hear the frustrated tones or the half shouts, he doesn’t hear the desperation mixed with those shouts, and he doesn’t hear his name and Donnie’s thrown around with curses and pleads.

Mikey stays perfectly still, and hears absolutely nothing.

And he keeps holding still and hearing nothing until the voices die off, and he hears the bay-doors open to let a vehicle out. He doesn’t move for another few minutes, letting the actual inhabitants of the hideout trickle back into the main room. Hidden up in the rafters, Mikey watches as some of the only other mutants in the city return to their normal lives, now that his brothers are gone.

And Mikey knows that Dr. Rockwell knows, the second he notices Mikey’s mental presence, and doesn’t react as the ape man raises the alarm for an unknown intruder in their hideout.

Its cut short though, as Mikey drops from the ceiling, and lands with a soft thud in plain sight. The halfway raised weapons and defenses of the Mutanimals drop, and Mikey takes a quiet breath in.

“Hey guys!” He says cheerfully, grinning widely as he can. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

    There’s an immediate tirade from Slash- but Mikey was expecting that, and neatly ignores every “Do you realize how worried your brothers have been?” and “How could you just leave Raphael and Leonardo like that?”

Dr. Rockwell tries to step in, to reason with Mikey and draw out explanations as to why he and Donnie have been missing for days now- but Slash’s very Raph-like anger overrules him, and the ape is shut down. Mikey tries not to see something else there.

Mondo’s exclamations of confusion and concern are further ignored, along with Slash’s continued advancements with his mace in hand and more furious words about the state of Mikey’s siblings- by Leatherhead, stepping between the angry tortoise and Mikey.

“Michelangelo and Donatello would not have done this without reason,” Leatherhead’s growling but calm voice says. “If they’ve really made such a drastic move, then I will trust my friend to have an explanation behind it.”

Some of the twisting knots in Mikey’s chest unwind with those words, and his smile is less strained feeling with his big, dependable friend standing between him and everyone else. As Leatherhead turns to him with a prompting look, Mikey squares his courage enough to speak in his usual tones.

“It’s no big deal,” Mikey says, playing it off as nothing. It’s not but if he pretends hard enough- “We just needed some space is all! Really! I left a note and everything. Didn’t my bros get it yet?”

“…Leonardo did mention a note,” Dr. Rockwell says slowly. “But he didn’t explain the contents to us. Just that you and Donatello had vanished, and that they were in need of help to locate you.”

“Yeah, ha, um,” Mikey tries to find something to say to that that’ll sound normal and reasonable. “Don’t bother with that? We’re fine, just chillin’ in a new pad for a while. Not exactly close by but we’re not, like- gone or nothin’. I swear! No need to go poking around for us anymore. We’ll come home on our own.”

“Michelangelo,” Leatherhead says, low and careful. “What is it that’s really going on?”

With a head on question like that, Mikey struggles to keep his smile and lax attitude. “Nothing! It’s just sibling stuff. It’s like, just normal whatever shit.”

“Your brothers don’t seem to share that opinion,” Slash growls, and the tone he uses is eerily, eerily close to Raph’s- enough that Mikey freezes up and can’t think right.

And his falter is enough, apparently, for Leatherhead to come to some conclusion on his own, and step towards Mikey. Mikey doesn’t step back, and he lets his enormous friend come to kneel in front of him. Large and gentle hands landing on his shoulder, each move so careful it feels like Leatherhead is treating Mikey like glass.

“Michelangelo,” Leatherhead says gently. “Will you tell me what’s really going on, if we do it in private?”

One person is easier to fool than four, so Mikey nods, and lets Leatherhead’s larger form block him from the rest of the Mutanimals.

“You will not call his brothers.”- is Leatherhead’s parting statement to his own team, own family, as he leads Mikey away. The deep, rolling growl in his voice seems to be enough to enforce the command on the other mutants, because Mikey hears Slash smash something as they leave, but no sign that they’re going to tell on him.

Leatherhead’s room is the same as when Mikey was last in it- candles everywhere on the sturdy low tables that can withstand Leatherhead’s use, thick blankets and huge overstuffed pillows everywhere else for easy sleeping on- and the television that he’d given his croc friend. One he’d… maybe stolen from Donnie…

The sight of the old black and white television momentarily kills Mikey’s forced momentum, but he recovers and pushes his spirits up again.

“You still got all the movies I gave you!” Mikey exclaims instead, bending by the ramshackle shelf full of VHS tapes. All of them classics, mostly romances, because Leatherhead might look big and mean but he is actually such a squishy old man. Mikey sorts through them; scanning the titles for any he might be able to feign interest in at the moment. “We should totally have a movie marathon, we haven’t done that in weeks, and we defs can’t let this sweet set up keep going to waste like it is, because if I had this in my room you’d never pull me off it, no way no how-”

“Michelangelo,” Leatherhead says, stopping Mikey’s ramble. “Why did you come here?”

Why did Mikey come here? It definitely wasn’t to hide, because he’s totally set himself up for exposure. Donnie would be mad. Should be mad. Because Mikey went off and screwed yet another thing up that he didn’t think through and doesn’t know how to fix.

“Michelangelo?” Leatherhead prompts again, and Mikey’s shoulders finally slump.

“I fucked up,” Mikey says quietly, and as he does, his friend’s huge arms encircle him, and pull him into a tight hug.

    It doesn’t take much, once Leatherhead has pulled Mikey into a big pile of pillows and blankets, to get Mikey to spill the ashy tasting beans.

With Leatherhead’s big, solid form curled around Mikey, huge limbs and barrel chest, he feels a little-lot safer. Like he can say what’s on his mind for real and not have to worry about being in trouble for it. Because Leatherhead, to everyone else, is the worst thing you could ever meet in a dark alley. Mikey has never been scared of his friend- not even forever ago when they’d first met and LH had attacked everyone because he was scared- and he thinks privately, that maybe because everyone else is scared of his friend, it makes Mikey feel that much safer in his arms.

Mikey breathes in time with Leatherhead, and lets everything out.

He tells Leatherhead he screwed up with Donnie, even though his brother has done so much to make their new home a home and let Mikey into it too, even though he could have kept it to himself and left Mikey behind and alone and never looked back-

And he tells Leatherhead that they left because it’s bad at home, so, so bad. Strangling and terrifying because it feels normal but isn’t but it is and it’s only like that because it’s been that way for so long that Mikey isn’t even sure if he can go back from that anymore or if there ever even was a back to begin with, and he’s sorry he ran away but he had to and he can’t, he can’t he can’t he can’t go back to his brothers right now, he just can’t-

And he confesses in a harsh whisper that he’s scared, he’s scared of what he’s done and he’s scared of how his brothers are reacting and he’s scared that Donnie won’t let him stay anymore because Mikey can’t filter can’t manage himself right and he’s sorry that he’s stupid and useless and he doesn’t want to be but is-

And that Mikey didn’t mean to shut Donnie down he really didn’t, he just got lost and then bored and then frustrated because that always happens with Donnie, because Donnie talks too fast and complicated for Mikey to follow and makes him feel stupid and lost and he hates it and doesn’t want to hate it but he does anyways-

And how Mikey is furious and tired and so unbelievably sad and hurt that his own dad, his own dad, didn’t even want to say goodbye to him, just left a message with his brother about taking everything that was left of their Sensei and turning it into something else, no I love you’s or last words of care or even an actual goodbye to anyone except Leo-

And and and-

And how Mikey is so, so tired of fighting, of being scared, of pushing everything down so he doesn’t feel like screaming even when he does. How he just wants to feel okay and not have spats with his brothers, have his home be one home and not two and not with only one feeling safe, and how he wants to be able to trust his big brothers with everything but can’t and how sad that makes him, and how he just… misses his dad, and his brothers, and how everything used to be. And how he’s sorry.

He’s so, so sorry, and he’s not even sure what about.

Mikey cries long and hard, wrapped up and concealed all the way by the one person, the one person, he knows won’t judge him or hurt him in any way. He cries out every bit of stress and anxiety and regret until there’s nothing left but the hurt, and then he cries that out too.

Then his head finally goes quiet, and Mikey knows that there’s nothing left in there anymore to hide from or ignore. At least for a little while, for as long as he’s here and safe and far, far from the things that are weighing on him like lead chains.

His eyes are crusty and sting like crazy and he knows that he got his gross tears all over Leatherhead’s chest, but Mikey feels better for it. He feels alright, probably for the first time in a while.

“Thanks,” He whispers after a long time has passed, grateful down to his core that Leatherhead was here for him. His friend’s bone deep rumble is warm and familiar, and makes Mikey feel even better.

    Leatherhead’s team stares at Mikey when they emerge, and the way Slash is glaring down at Mikey nearly brings all the stuff he’s just gotten rid of rushing back.

But, Leatherhead’s hand is on his shell, and his friend is speaking for him. Leatherhead his protecting him, now that he knows what’s fully going on. There’s a short, purposefully vague explanation from Leatherhead, and though it seems like Mondo doesn’t really catch what’s going on, the rest of the mutants in the room concede to leave Mikey and Donnie to themselves. This is between them and their brothers, not anyone else.

It’s a family matter, and while Mikey considers the Mutanimals to be something like his weird cousins, this isn’t something they’re meant to get involved in. The fact that Slash accepts this is a miracle, and maybe only sort of has to do with Leatherhead not so subtly threatening mutiny if he doesn’t back off.

“We’ll have to tell your brothers you were here, Michelangelo,” Leatherhead says regretfully, after everything is taken care of and Mikey is getting ready to leave. “But we won’t help them beyond that. I know you can’t tell me where you and Donatello are currently staying, but know that the Mutanimals won’t be searching for it any longer. I promise you that.”

“I know, thank you,” Mikey says, and he smiles genuinely for his friend. The umpteenth bear hug Leatherhead gives him after that is entirely welcome, and Mikey maybe lingers longer than he should in the secure embrace.

He reluctantly lets go, darting back into the night with his skateboard across his shell and his chucks in their holsters. He hears the doors to the Mutanimal’s hideout slam shut behind his exit, and he knows that he’s got only a few minutes before his brothers get the call from Slash.

Mikey runs, slipping right back into the silent shadows he’d used on the way there, and heads back to the station. He has one more thing to do before he can really feel alright, and he knows that it’s something he should have done probably fifty times over in just the last few months.

He enters through the one opening they have from the tunnels, the rest of the open exits having been boarded up with plywood. Not exactly sturdy, but it keeps out the drafts and makes things feel cozier. Less exposed.

Mikey dumps his skateboard and weapons on the couch, and heads towards the kitchen on a hunch. His hunch is right, and Donnie is sitting at the table with what’s probably a cold mug of tea. He’s the blank Donnie right now, tired and not looking at anyone. Then, as he sees Mikey, he becomes the anxious one, then a relieved one, and then back to the anxious one.

Donnie stands, stumbles, and nearly knocks over his drink as he does. He’s blinking at Mikey, and seems shocked that he came back.

The words, “You came back.” confirm that, as Donnie says so in a breathless voice. Mikey nods awkwardly, and tries to remember what he wanted to say.

Then, the same time as Mikey does, Donnie blurts, “I’m sorry!”

“I shouldn’t’ve blown you off!” Mikey says, the same time as Donnie says, “I shouldn’t have shut you out!”

And then they both stand there, looking at one another, and probably both feeling just as sheepish as the other.

Then, because the situation is so ridiculous and Mikey is only mutant- he lets out something like a giggle-snort, which sets of Donnie’s own embarrassed laughter, and then the tension is gone and they’re both cracking up.

Donnie gently clasps Mikey’s shoulder, and says again, “I’m sorry.”

Mikey puts a hand over his brothers, and smiles as he says, “I’m sorry too.”

And Mikey’s smile feels real and the obvious anxiety to Donnie’s posture drains away, and Mikey suggests that they sit down and make more tea. He has more to say than just a sorry, because Leatherhead told him to say the things Mikey told him. Because they’d help make things better, and help prevent something like this happening again, small as it was in hindsight.

Their home is still too new to be stable, and Mikey knows that even better now, seeing what one dispute can do to both of them.

So Mikey puts the kettle on, dumps out Donnie’s cold tea and replaces it with new warmth, giving it a twin as he does, and sits down at the table to actually talk with his brother for once.

“You just… go too fast for me sometimes,” Mikey explains, dragging the words out of himself. “I get lost, and then I get upset because I got lost. Um. I don’t really mean it when I say shit like I did. I’m just… mad that I can’t keep up. And I’m sorry for… reacting like that every time. It’s not your fault I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Donnie says, empathetic and genuine enough that Mikey looks up from his staring contest with his cup. Donnie repeats again, “You’re not stupid, Mikey. You’re just… not a genius.”

Mikey scoffs, internally stinging in places that he tries to hide but can’t. “What was your first clue?”

“No- no I mean- no one is going to be able to keep up with me,” Donnie says, grimacing as he chooses his words. “No one can. I’m just… too far off the grid for anyone else to get it. Dr. Rockwell can almost, but even he admits that my head goes places his can’t. And I guess I get excited, and forget that not everyone speaks the same binary code I do. And that doesn’t make you stupid, Mikey, for not being like me. I’m just different in a different way from you, and that’s okay. And- I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t smart. And for… all the times I called you just that. I was out of line when I did, and I honestly regret doing that to you.”

“Well… I’m sorry I crap all over your ideas all the time,” Mikey says, accepting what Donnie said and putting it away for further examination later, because wow. That was something. “And I’m sorry I’ve taken stuff from the lab, here and back home, and broken it. And for messing with your experiments, even after you told me not to, and with the cars and the weapons and the everything, really. And I’m sorry for not stepping up when Leo and Raph did that shit too. I should’ve, but I didn’t.”

“In all fairness, I haven’t exactly stuck up for you either,” Donnie says, tone tired and regretful. “We both… kept to our lanes, I suppose. Avoided causing extra trouble for ourselves.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Mikey says, because what else is there to say? It’s over and done with, and neither of them can make a time machine to fix that stuff. They can just deal with its fallout now, and… try to fix it best they can.

The silence between them gets heavy for a moment, past events weighing on them both, before Mikey asks, “Can you try again, explaining the plant stuff for me? I’ll actually listen this time, I swear.”

The way Donnie visibly brightens, given something he knows exactly how to talk about, is almost better than Mikey’s realization earlier that no, his brother wasn’t going to kick him out for being an ass, now or in the past.

“I had this idea, because I was thinking about how the grocery stores we hit up for food aren’t always going to be so easy to break into, right?” Donnie says, perking up with each word. Mikey nods, and his brother continues. “We don’t want to leave patterns for people to follow and we don’t like risking going outside our territories. Plus it’s a hassle. So- I was thinking, if I could combined the reproduction rate and growth time of mushrooms with tuber vegetables, like carrots or beets, and maybe with leafy vegetables, like lettuce or broccoli, the we might be able to create a self-sustaining crop if we got the soil and nutrients and water right! And, of course, tending and weeding and such would have to be involved and likely some helping hand with added fertilizer and compost and maybe selective plant marriages, but point being- we wouldn’t have to worry about food so much anymore, or about our vitamin and fibre intake!”

Mikey blinks, tries to take what his brother has just said and understand it, and finds he sort of caught what was said. “So basically we get an indoor-underground garden patch of Frankenstein vegetables and eat better in general?”

“Yes!” Donnie exclaims. “The process of combining the vegetable species alone would be fascinating, aren’t you excited by it?”

Mikey thinks about that idea, of having plants filling up the empty spaces still in their home. About the smell of fresh plant life, rich and alluring in a way that calls to something in the back of Mikey’s mind. He thinks about it, remembers the way the farm house smelt on early mornings, before Leo had woken up and it’d just been Mikey and days of time to lounge around and learn new things other than fighting and hiding. He thinks about that, brought here into their new home, their new everything-

And Mikey smiles, because that sounds pretty damn good to him. He tells Donnie as much, and the ecstatic excitement his brother has it worth all the scientific jargon he endures right after.

    Trying to break out of what he’s known almost all his life is hard for Mikey. Shifting ingrained responses and switching out reflexive reactions. It’s hard and it’s difficult, but he figures it’s worth it.

It’s worth it because he finds that he likes the nice responses, the nice reactions, a lot better than the old, dismissive ones.

For one, it results in the blank and the anxious Donnie’s being around a lot less, and the excited and warm one being around a lot more. For another, it makes Donnie brighter and happier, and in turn, he makes efforts to do the same for Mikey.

Like letting Mikey actually get to help plant their first test crop, something Donnie’s never let him do before. Until now, Donnie has kept him as far as possible from his lab and projects, and Mikey appreciates the effort for change. It’s not as complex or entertaining as some of the things Donnie has done before, it’s not the Shellraiser or the grappling hooks or the many other weapons and gadgets he’s designed for Mikey and their brothers-

But Mikey kind of prefers this, in a way. The quiet steady activity of getting the soil trays just right, and watching and listening to Donnie mumble under his breath as he perfects the combinations of the plants. It’s not big and loud, but it’s nice. It’s probably just what Mikey needs.

A late night gardening session is definitely what he needs, after he’s made the mistake of reading some of their brothers’ angrier texts, listened to more voice messages than he should, and then Donnie moves too fast and too close and Mikey just freezes.

He freezes and he shuts his eyes , hunching up as he waits for a hit for whatever he’s done wrong or stupidly this time- and then remembers all at once that it’s Donnie, and that there’s no one else here and that his brother won’t do that to him.

It’s a long, awkward moment, as Donnie lowers the hand he’d been using to reach the top shelf of their cupboard, putting away a cup as they do the dishes, and Mikey feels embarrassed and stupid as his brother steps back out of his space.

“I’m sorry,” Donnie whispers right after, carefully keeping his arms down and away from Mikey. In plain sight too. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Me neither,” Mikey replies, just as quietly. And the silence that follows makes him want to hide or make noise so it doesn’t exist anymore or maybe just run. Run from this and how Mikey’s screwed up, in his head and in his life.

Then, slowly, and in a way that’s silently asking is this okay? Donnie lifts his arms for a hug, and waits for Mikey’s response.

Mikey drops the dishtowel in the sink, and takes the hug.

They spend the rest of the night doing quiet things with the plants. They’re already sprouting, underneath the heat lamps and UV ray lamps that Donnie has rigged up through most of their home. It makes the station feel like the middle of the day with them on, and Mikey drinks in the sensation. He doesn’t miss the long, dragging days of the farm, but he does miss the sun.

He gets dirt all up and down his arms, even though he doesn’t need to, and buries the sensations that aren’t really there under the mud. Donnie lets him fuss with one of the spare pots, filling it with spare dirt and spare seedlings, and gives Mikey the labels and markers when he asks. Asks, not takes. Because there’s a new rule for them both: communication. It’s been a good rule so far.

Mikey sticks his new, personal plant right in the center of all the other pots and trays, because while he’d planned to shove it to the side originally, Donnie had said, “Put it in the middle, so it gets the best light.”

And maybe there’s more to that than just his brother being extra nice to him because Mikey’s had a crap night, but Mikey doesn’t care to read into it. He takes the kindness as it is, and names his pot Sir Bramble-squire, even though it’s probably lettuce and not brambles or squires.

Kitty isn’t much of a fan of their new home temperature, but Mikey makes it up to her by, again, asking to borrow some of Donnie’s tools, and carving a bunch of little ice cubes into fun shapes for her to play with in her freezer. He gives the tools back right after, and it’s kind of neat but sad to see the half-hidden surprise Donnie has at Mikey’s good behavior.

Mikey gets more texts from his brothers through all that, and he does the sensible thing. He shoves his phone under his mattress, and forgets about it for the rest of the evening.

Mikey’s good at forgetting things, ignoring things, and rolling with things. He’s good at falling and hiding and pretending. He’s not so good at remembering rules unless he tries really hard, and he’s not so good at remembering where a boundary is if he’s not paying attention.

He’s working on the last two things though, and he knows Donnie is working on his own issues too. They’re getting there, and until they do, Mikey’s phone can stay under his mattress until he wants otherwise.

Continuation.