Chapter Text
Mikey’s favourite weather was easily fog. Something about the way it pressed in, the way that it consumed everything. Eating light like some great beast, the way it seemed to curl around him, isolating him until he felt safe and at peace. It was like a blanket around him as he walked through the fog laden streets. This was the one time he could meander the streets as he pleased without worry that someone would spot him. Sure the city knew of him and his brothers now, he was fine to walk among the humans. But it didn’t stop the looks, the whispers. It didn’t matter to Mikey if they were whispers of admiration or not, he didn’t like it. He wanted to go back to when they were heroes in the shadows, not so public with their work. But the others didn’t see it like that. Raph and Leo didn’t mind the public eye, hell Leo flourished in it, he had changed so much, he was like a flower seeing the sun for the first time. Donnie’s tech was being recognized for it's quality and he was finally able to sell it.
Mikey couldn’t take that from his brothers. So, he didn’t tell them that going in public made his skin crawl, that walking down the street made him feel like he was choking. He turned abruptly, ducking down an alleyway and tugging his backpack closer to himself, cringing at the way the cans inside clanged against one another. Looking around, trying to see through the thick fog, listening for something, he waited. And then he heard it. A loud caw from above. A grin spread across his face and he scaled up the fire escape, moving quickly and as silently as possible on the rusty, rickety stairs and railings. At the top he looked up, taking his backpack off and hucking it up at the roof. It disappeared over the edge with a clatter, and then a bird’s black head popped out from the ledge. Mikey grinned at it, laughing silently as he scaled the side of the building with ease. He pulled himself up over the edge, rolling onto the gravel laid on the roof. The rocks dug into his skin as he pulled himself back up, brushing them off.
There, sitting on his backpack was a large crow. Raven? Donnie would know what it was, but Mikey didn’t think it mattered, all he knew was this guy was huge. It cawed loudly and looked at his backpack almost expectantly. Mikey shooed it off the canvas, and unzipped the orange backpack, and pulled out what the bird was no doubt waiting for. Fries. Mikey tossed one to the bird, who caught it expertly in its beak before scarfing it down. Laughing, Mikey tossed another before scattering the fries on the roof for the bird, stuffing the red and yellow carton back in his backpack and walking to what he was really there for.
An empty billboard.
He’d been scoping it out for months, watching it carefully. Nobody had filled it, it was entirely untouched. No advertisements, no graffiti. Mikey had wanted to use it for ages, and he finally had the time to. No missions, no emergency therapy for his brothers. He had five minutes to himself and he was going to damn well use it. Dumping out the half empty spray paint cans, Mikey looked for his chalk. Grabbing a broken piece of orange chalk, he pulled himself up onto the edge of the billboard. He began sketching out the idea. He’d drawn it time and time again in his piece book, it was muscle memory now. He’d always wanted to do this design somewhere outside the lair, and now he finally had the chance. He began to sketch out the design, jumping up to reach the higher spots. Wiping away a mistake, and leaning back to look at his work, he kept at it until the fog began to lift and the sun began to rise. He hopped down and stood back, looking at his handiwork. It was perfect. The sketch outlined four turtle shells, a rat above them, and a baseball bat below them. He wasn’t even close to done, this would take him ages, but he was finally excited for the first time in months. They weren’t facing death at every turn and he could actually see himself being able to finish it. Mikey hid his paint cans and spare tips behind the water tower, grabbing his bag and zipping it closed. The crow had stayed, watching him work from its spot on the roof, and was eating the last fry as Mikey walked by.
“See you tomorrow.” Mikey said affectionately, crouching in front of the crow. The crow hopped closer and shook its tail, fanning it out and squawking, tilting its head at Mikey before walking away to the edge of the building. Mikey watched it hop onto the lip of the building before shaking its wings out and taking off, flying between the run-down apartment buildings.
Sighing, he walked to the edge of the building and began scaling down the fire escape. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. Looking around, he tried to see if he could spot anything, but when his search revealed nothing, he still felt it. The eyes were like lasers trained on him but he couldn’t find anyone. He stopped when he got to the ground again, turning as his heart rate increased. Whatever it was he needed to find it. Taking a moment, he took a breath, calming his heart so he could focus. Closing his eyes, he listened, trying to tune out the noises. There was an electrical buzz above him, the sounds of the city in the distance. But that’s not what he was looking for. Opening his eyes, he trained his gaze on the end of the alleyway, garbage cans and bags of trash stacked high. Scanning them he still found nothing. He must be crazy. There was no other explanation. He’d been having trouble as of late, it must’ve been that, nothing else.
Even still, he was quick as he pulled up the manhole cover and slipped under into the sewer. His feet hit the concrete floor and he looked around, panic consuming him, heart and lungs kicking into high gear. He broke out into a run, knowing exactly where to go, he knew these sewers like the back of his hand. As he approached the lair, the feeling began to intensify, until he was sprinting, his lungs working overtime as he hyperventilated. Bursting into the lair, he scrambled into the common area, tugging at his hoodie. It was too close to his throat, he was going to suffocate, he knew it. Pulling it off hastily, he dug his nails into his palms.
“Leo! Get back here!” Mikey heard Raph yell as Leo walked into the common area, past Mikey and flopping onto the couch.
“Chill out Raph, it’s not a big deal!” Leo said dismissively, lounging on the couch. Mikey’s panic immediately shoved itself down into his stomach, followed by the all too familiar premonition. Mikey was at the door before Raph was, meeting him there as it slammed open.
“It is Leo! You need to take some responsibility for once!” Raph yelled. Mikey slid between them, pushing Raph back as Leo scoffed.
“Last I checked-”
“Hey! Raph I need your help, c’mon!” Mikey tried, voice upbeat as he grinned up at Raph, it was his old standby, it almost always worked. Almost.
“Later.” Raph snarled, shoving forward past Mikey.
“Raph please-”
“Stay out of it!” Raph snapped at Mikey, turning to his younger brother. The words stung, but Mikey bit back the tears. It was just the anger, Raph wasn’t really mad at him, he was angry because of the fight.
“Raph c’monnnn,” Mikey said more insistently, grabbing Raph’s balled up fist and physically pulling him out of the room and away from Leo. Raph’s anger had grown more vicious, and far more venomous since the Kraang. Mikey couldn’t blame him. Wouldn’t blame him. Mikey led him out of the room, into the kitchen.
“He just… I’m just- I don’t know what-” Raph trailed off, grunting in frustration and slamming his fist on the counter as the door shut behind them.
“I know big guy, I know. Grab that for me?” Mikey asked, opening a cabinet and pointing up at a random item. He didn’t even bother to check what it was. He just wanted to keep Raph busy. Raph pulled it down and handed the bottle to Mikey. Mikey could’ve easily gotten onto the counter and grabbed it himself, but it was better if Raph had something to do. Mikey grabbed a few other things that would work with the spice Raph had grabbed down for him. “Wanna help me with breakfast?” Mikey asked, looking over his shoulder as he turned the stove on.
“Sure.” Raph said, rubbing the bridge between his brows.
Mikey filled the silence with random chatter, putting on the biggest smile he could muster and trying to put that morning out of his mind. Truthfully the cooking helped him too, it was his reprieve just as much as art was. He had Raph taste test everything, and it seemed to be helping his mood. Since the Kraang his anger had grown worse, more unruly, more venomous. Mikey had no doubt he’d been repressing it and was only now unable to continue hiding it from his brothers. Mikey had always been the buffer between Raph’s anger and their other brothers, had always been the one between Raph and Leo as they argued for the umpteenth time. Mikey dished up Raph’s and handed it to him. Raph elected to eat in the kitchen as Mikey brought Leo his plate and then put Donnie’s into his favourite bowl. Donnie had rituals, especially with food, and he liked to eat out of a bowl whenever possible, taking it further into the lair to bring to his brother.
Mikey wandered into Donnie’s lab, bowl in hand and found him where he always found his brother. Working on something at his unbelievably messy desk. Donnie was meticulous about most things, but his desk was always a disaster. Even when it was ‘clean’ it was a mess. Mikey replaced the empty bowl on his desk for the new one, peering over Donnie’s shoulder.
“What’cha workin’ on?” Mikey asked, looking at the array before Donnie.
“Reinforced battle shell.” Donnie replied, voice flat and monotone. But Mikey knew why he was making it. His mind replayed the crack of Donnie’s battle shell during the Kraang fight, the look of terror on his face. Remembering his own fear in that moment. Mikey was honestly glad he was making a new one.
“...Don?”
“Yeah?”
“I was out last night, in the city, I was doing something but… when I came back I felt? I don’t know, I felt like someone was watching me.” Mikey said, shrugging. “What d’you think?”
“That’s not likely, come on Angelo, think about it.” Donnie said, shrugging as he looked away from his work briefly. “Big Mama’s been dormant, doing whatever she does in the Undercity, you reformed Draxum yourself, the Shredder’s been defeated, and we got rid of the Kraang. It’s probably just anxiety.” Donnie rationalized, counting off on his fingers as he listed them all. “There’s nobody left.”
“Yeah… Yeah it must be anxiety, there’s no way.” Mikey nodded, taking a breath. That had to be it, the stress of everything must’ve gotten to him. They’d been running from some huge villain for so long now that it was weird to be free of that. He had no reason to fear anymore. It was just anxiety. “Thanks Donnie.”
“Anytime,” Donnie replied, still looking at his work but reaching over and rubbing Mikey’s head affectionately. Mikey took a breath and stepped away, going back to the kitchen. He wasn’t even hungry anymore, the anxiety forming a pit in his gut that sat heavily. Grabbing a plate for Splinter, and grabbing his backpack as he walked through the common area, he found his dad in the same spot he usually was. Mikey handed him the plate and sat beside the chair, leaning against it.
“Thank you son.”
“No problem,” Mikey mumbled, pulling his sketchbook from his backpack, along with a pencil. Flipping it open he found the first empty page and began sketching mindlessly.
“Are you not eating as well?” Splinter asked, leaning over the arm of the chair and looking at the page.
“Not hungry.” Mikey said, shaking his head.
“Alright. Where were you last night?” Splinter asked, still looking at the page curiously as Mikey’s sketches began to transform into a picture.
“I found this billboard a few months ago, I started a project on it,” Mikey said, a genuine smile crossing his face as he talked about it.
“What are you painting on it?” Splinter asked, Mikey knew he didn’t really understand his street art, but he was trying. That was more than he had done in previous years. It was all Mikey had ever wanted from his dad. Mikey flipped the pages back, to the final draft of the mock up, turning the book on it's side to show him the full scope. It was hastily coloured in, and messily sketched. But it was the best version he had available. Splinter grinned and took the book, looking at the image intently. “This is beautiful. You’ll have to take me to see it when you’re done,” he praised, handing the book back to Mikey.
“Thanks dad, I will, I promise.” He said, flipping back to the page he’d been working on.
It was nice, finally getting that type of recognition from his dad. He could see that Splinter was trying for them, now. Before everything, he’d always felt like his art was ignored or seen as a waste of time even. But now, finally, it felt like someone actually saw it.
Things were finally falling into place. Or to Mikey it's what it felt like, at least, and that was good enough for him. Maybe their family could heal after all.