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The first time Mikey heard the nickname Angelo, it came out of Leo's mouth. He must've been four or five at the time, Leo just a couple years older, but he could still remember it like it was yesterday. They'd been skateboarding around the sewers, Leo taking Mikey’s hands in his as he taught him how to drift right and left on the board, his words always reassuring and positive. He had a feeling that was why he was the way he was—positive—because his older brother’s gentle voice had guided him through so much of his youth, and always with a smile.
"You're doing it, Mikey! Keep it up, you've got this," Leo had said as he slowly let Mikey go. He stayed right beside him the whole time, but Mikey was still scared, even as Leo threw his own skateboard down and pushed into the space beside him, hands stuffed in his hoodie's pockets. But whenever Mikey would fumble, Leo was there to steady him, and whenever he fell, Leo would pick him back up, dust him off and ask, "You ok?"
The answer was always yes, Leo never allowed him to drift too far away so he could catch him if he had too, which was why when they suddenly reached a corner in the tunnel, Leo's eyes were focused on Mikey and not on the drop off in front of them.
"Leo, look out!" Mikey cried, but he was already too late.
Leo's head whipped forward, blue ribbons swaying behind him as he attempted to stumble off his board, away from the edge, but he didn't manage to catch himself in time. Instead, the wheels slipped out from under his feet and he fell face first onto the gravel several feet below, elbows hitting the rocks. He let out a pained yelp, and Mikey quickly jumped off his own board, picking it up as he raced over to the edge of the platform to peer down at Leo.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a little frantic as he searched for Leo's silhouette in the darkness.
His older brother slowly sat up, letting out a huff of laughter before shooting him a grin. "Don't worry, it happens," he said easily, before bending his arm around to get a look at his elbows. They were scrapped up and bleeding slightly, and Leo began to pick some of the rocks from his skin, grumbling, "Awh, man. Raph's gonna yell at me again for not wearing Donnie’s elbow pads."
Mikey cringed at the sight of the wounds, guilt rising in his chest. "Sorry Leo, I should've warned you sooner—"
"Hey," Leo interrupted, "I didn't see that gap either. It's not a big deal, okay? Some antiseptic and bandaids and I'll be all patched up again in no time. Got it?"
But before Mikey could reply, a sudden whistle came screeching from down the tunnel, and both boys’ gaze swung toward the direction it came from, scales on the back of their necks prickling with a stiff chill.
"What… what was that?" Mikey whispered, his voice shaking slightly.
Leo blinked, then glanced down at the gravel he was sitting on before reaching a hand through the dark and feeling around. Mikey watched as his hand found one of the rails he was sitting between, and a grimace crossed his face.
"Crap," he muttered, just as a hum started in the tunnel, the vibration shaking the ground, rocks tinkling against each other as the gravel began to bounce up and down. Then, lights swept over the two of them, and the whistle sounded again, only a thousand times louder this time, wheels shrieking against metal.
The subway train.
Leo stared at the oncoming car, unmoving and still, his face suddenly slack and his eyes wide. His brain seemed to be short-circuiting (as Donnie would say), his body freezing up with fear, the threat imminent, but as Mikey’s gaze whipped back toward the light, he saw that the train was only getting closer. It wouldn’t slow down. Not for them, and certainly not in time.
This icy realization hit Mikey in the face like a splash of freezing water, and his panic was suddenly thrown into overdrive.
He tossed his skateboard aside and scrambled to the edge of the platform, leaning down and reaching as far as his arm could before screaming, "Leon!"
This seemed to snap Leo out of his trance, and his head jerked toward Mikey before his gaze landed on his open hand. He immediately grabbed for it, the train almost on top of them now, and Mikey pulled as hard as he could, trying to get Leo's hand to reach the edge of the platform. For a second, it felt like he wasn't gonna make it, but then Leo's fingers were curling around the edge of the stone, and he was rolling onto the platform beside Mikey just as the train whipped by. It was loud, really loud, and Mikey felt himself clapping his hands over his ears as the subway screeched past. Only after it was gone did he pull them away, glancing over at his older brother, who was still lying on the platform. Leo was staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling frantically as he tried to catch his breath.
Mikey quickly crawled over to him, bending over to intercept his gaze as he whispered, "You okay?"
"Fine," his older brother replied, raising a thumbs up into the air, "All good."
And with that, Mikey burst into tears.
Leo immediately shot up, his normally reassuring features creasing with concern as he reached out a hand to touch Mikey’s shoulder. "Hey, hey! What's wrong?" he chided, inspecting Mikey carefully, "You're not hurt are you?"
Mikey shook his head, although the tears kept pouring out of him as he cried, "Y-You scared me! I thought you were gonna—"
A sob hitched in his chest, and he dissolved into tears, burying his face in his hands as they spilled over and rolled down his cheeks, but just as quickly he felt hands wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close, his face touching Leo's warm blue hoodie.
"Hey, come on," he heard his brother chide. "I'd never do that to you, Angelo. Not in a million years."
Mikey pulled back at the unfamiliar nickname, wiping the tears away from his face as he sniffled, "Angelo?"
"Yeah," Leo said, a smile widening over his face, "I mean, you did just save my life. That makes you my guardian angel now, right?"
-
Since then, the other brothers had also picked up the nickname. Hey, Angelo! What's for breakfast? Angelo, you up for some pizza tonight? Angelo, get out of my lab!! Mikey liked the name. It was sweet, he thought, though he'd never tell Leo that to his face. He knew how flustered his older brother would get, how he'd brush it aside and his cheeks would heat up with embarrassment. It's nothing, he'd say, it was just something I made up as a kid. It's nothing…
But once, when Mikey got really sick—high fever, rough cough, blurry vision, the whole nine yards—he couldn't stop himself from admitting it. He was so delirious with sleep and heat, his head always spinning. And every time Leo (their medic of a brother) came into his room, he would use the nickname at every given opportunity.
"This is just a cold washcloth, it should cool you down a little, okay Angelo?" Leo murmured softly as he gently laid the towel on Mikey's forehead. The younger of the two let out a satisfied hum, the cool moisture seeping into his skin blissfully, a welcome change from the heat enveloping his body.
"Angelo," Mikey repeated happily, the name coming to his lips as it bounced around sluggishly in his feverish mind.
He felt Leo suddenly freeze beside him, who'd been wringing out another cold towel, the sound of the drips soft and comforting.
"You like that one?" he heard Leo ask, his voice suddenly as warm and welcoming as the blanket he'd tucked up around Mikey’s shoulders. "I guess I don't use it that often, do I," he admitted, "Only when I have to take care of you. Or when you have to take care of me."
"I like it," Mikey whispered, words slurring together slightly, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, "You said I was your guardian angel."
He heard a soft huff of laughter come from beside him. "You remember that?" Leo asked quietly.
Mikey hummed in response, "But you're not the only one.”
Leo frowned, a confused look flashing across his features. "The only what?"
"The only one…" Mikey managed, just as sleep was pulling him under, his fever ebbing with the weight of the cool washcloth on his forehead, "...who's got an angel for a brother."
-
Which was why, when the Kraang invaded, he shouldn't have been all that surprised that Leo was willing to sacrifice himself for the rest of the world. But somehow, it still managed to sting; a promise made long ago, suddenly broken.
I'd never do that to you, Angelo. Not in a million years.
But Leo never broke his promises. A million years had just come too soon.
Mikey wouldn't give up on Leo though. Leo was brave, and kind, and gentle. He was tough, down to his very bones, and he'd never given up on Mikey. Not when he kept falling off his skateboard. Not when he was sick, or bruised, or felt like just laying down and dying. Not even now, after all this war. He was Mikey's number one, he always had his back—in everything—and in return Mikey was supposed to be his guardian angel, his protector. He was supposed to guard his older brother no matter what.
And he would give anything to do it. Even his own life.
Leo never gave up on us. I’m not giving up on him.
He felt it as soon as the space in front of him had cracked with a glowing, yellow light—the weight on his soul. He could feel the years getting taken off the end of his life, the numbers running down the harder he focused, the more the portal cracked open. He wasn't using this magic to cut through space, like Leo did. He was using it to cut into a different dimension , something he knew only he could do. He was the only one that could save his brother. He was the only one who could bring him back.
And then he felt his brothers’ hands clap down on his shoulders, and turned to look at them. No, he almost wanted to scream, I can't risk losing you too, but the weight on his soul ebbed with their presence, and he was too focused on saving Leo to try and turn them away.
And then it opened, and Raph yanked Leo out from the other side.
He’d been bruised, and beaten—badly beaten—and Mikey immediately raced over to him, bending over where his brother was laying, and as soon as Leo had shot them all a smile, they were wrapping him in a hug.
But as they all pulled away, Leo’s hand lingered on his youngest brother’s shoulder, as if not quite ready to let go, and Mikey quickly raised a hand to latch on to it, curling his fingers around Leo’s.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
Leo smiled at him gratefully, although his face was littered with bruises, and nodded. "Fine," he said, shooting Mikey that familiar reassuring look, "All good."
-
It didn’t end there, however—but eventually, they healed. The city healed. The scars on Mikey’s arms faded over, and he barely thought about them anymore. If he was being honest, he even thought they looked kind of cool. But Leo still put in one last special request:
“I never want you to do that again.”
It was late in New York, the city above their heads most likely bursting with light, but it was dark in the lair. Raph had already passed out, and Mikey could hear Donnie buzzing away at some project down the hall in his lab. He’d been drawing, listening to music as he doodled away in his sketchbook, feet kicked up on the table in front of him. He hadn’t even heard Leo come in, didn’t know how long he’d been standing there watching him, but when he’d spoken, Mikey had finally turned in his chair, eyes pulling away from pencil lines to look at his older brother. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, gaze trained on the floor in between them.
“What? Steal the last slice?” Mikey asked playfully, tucking his pencil into the ribbon of his mask as he leaned back in his chair. “Come on, Leo, that’s kind of my thing—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Leo interrupted briskly.
Mikey blinked, sitting up in his chair slightly and pushing his sketchbook away from him. He knew that voice—the serious one. The one Leo used when they were about to run into battle. The one he used when he stressed that everything needed to go perfectly according to plan.
“Ohhhkay,” Mikey drawled cautiously. “Then, what—”
“I’m talking about the portal, Mikey,” Leo said, his eyes finally flicking up to meet the younger’s gaze.
Mikey stared at him for a moment. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming, he just hadn’t known when. And he hadn’t really thought it would end up being tonight. He’d secretly hoped it’d be never.
“Oh,” he replied finally. Then, “Is that it?”
Now it was Leo’s turn to blink, and he watched his older brother unfurl himself from his defensive position, straightening in the doorway to shoot him a confused glance. “I…” he hesitated, obviously expecting more or a fight, “Yes?”
“Okay,” Mikey said simply, swinging back around in his chair and grabbing his pencil from his mask.
“You…” he could hear Leo stepping further into the room, authority suddenly lacing through his older brother’s voice, “You have to promise me you won’t.”
Mikey’s fingers hesitated over his drawing. He could lie. He could always lie, but he wasn’t the type, and he was terrible at it—almost as bad as Donnie— especially when it came to Leo. Leo was hard to lie to. He remembered the most insane details, the littlest things, and he’d never forget it if you weren’t honest with him the first time around.
So Mikey told the truth, even though he already knew the conversation was heading to a bad place. “I’m not gonna promise that, Leo,” he murmured.
This was met with silence, stifling and hot. Mikey could feel his palms sweating, wooden pencil slipping in his hands. He could feel his chest tightening, his vocal chords tensing. Gosh, didn’t he plan for this conversation months ago? Didn’t he have every word laid out in the back of his head? Why couldn’t he remember them now, when he needed them the most?
“You have to,” Leo finally replied, his voice hardening around the words.
Mikey stared down at the mess of scribbles, but his gaze was boring through the pages now, no longer focused on the image in front of him. “I won’t,” he muttered under his breath.
He felt Leo’s hand on the back of his chair before he could bother to turn, his brother spinning the seat around forcefully so Mikey was facing him, hands landing on his armrests as he trapped the younger to the confines of the chair. Then he bent down to scowl at him, brow knit with determination. “I’m not asking, Mikey. You have to promise me—”
“So now you get to tell me what I can and can’t do with my powers?” Mikey snapped suddenly, slamming his pencil down on the table beside him and glaring up at Leo.
Leo seemed to hesitate, setting his jaw, but finally settled on, “I’m the leader—”
“Oh, you better be joking,” Mikey glowered, pushing against Leo’s shoulder and shoving him backward enough so his grip fell away from the armrests. Mikey stood, marching away a few paces, anger building in his chest as he sneered, “You’re seriously going to pull the leader card right now—?”
“Fine,” Leo amended quickly, “but I’m still your older brother—”
“What?!” Mikey cried, both of them knowing fully well that that wasn’t fair as he whirled back around to look at Leo, but his older brother’s expression had only grown more dark and serious.
“—and as your older brother, it’s my job to make sure you stay safe. And right now, we just don’t know enough about your mystic power—”
Mikey let out a groan, even though he knew it was childish. “You could say that about any of our powers, Leo!” he argued. “I don’t hear you giving this lecture to Raph . Or Donnie.”
“I’m done talking about this,” Leo said firmly, jabbing a finger into Mikey’s plastron as he began to round him and head back toward the door. “What I said is final, alright?”
Mikey felt his hands clench at his sides, his anger finally boiling over. The heat in his chest felt stifling, his throat burning with words he wanted to scream. Leo didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. Mikey couldn’t give this up, not when it had been the only thing that was able to bring him back to them.
His older brother was just about to step out the door, the rule of his word about to weigh like an anvil over Mikey’s head, but before he could, Mikey let the words finally burst out of him.
"This isn’t fair , Leonardo!” he snapped, and he watched as his older brother suddenly froze in his tracks at the use of his full name. Mikey rarely used Leonardo. It was always Leo, or Leon, always fun and shortened and sweet on his taste buds. Not Leonardo. “You can’t take this away from me—”
But before he could get another word in, Leo was suddenly spinning on his heel and bearing his teeth, snapping almost as aggressively as Raph did as he pressed a finger into Mikey’s chest and seethed, “And I can’t lose you, Angelo!”
Mikey winced, pulling away from Leo’s touch like it was a hot iron, but that wasn’t what had fazed him. It was the use of his nickname—not because of the word itself, but because of how Leo spat it at him—like it was a curse. He only ever heard it used gently, when sure hands were wrapping bandages around his wrists, or checking his temperature as he lay sick in bed, or putting a bandaid over his scrapes after a particularly nasty spill on his skateboard. He’d only heard it used with honey, not acid. And the acid burned.
He felt the tears before they came, and quickly tried to hold them in, but his vision had already started to blur. Still, he watched as Leo’s face crumpled in shame and guilt, an expression all too familiar lately—everytime he laid eyes on Raph’s broken carapace, or spotted the marks left on Donnie's soft shell, or saw the scars lacing Mikey’s arms.
“Mikey. Wait, I’m sorry,” Leo started, his words straining slightly, his eyes wide with regret, “I just—I can’t… I couldn’t live knowing that you—” he hesitated, his vocal cords tightening around the words, his expression slowly falling apart, “—that you died trying to save me.”
Mikey stared at him for a minute before his expression twisted into a grimace, and he asked, “So, I’m just supposed to live knowing that I could have?”
Leo’s eyes widened slightly before cringing, his shoulder’s raising slightly as he murmured, “That's not what I—”
“I’m your guardian angel, remember?” Mikey suddenly said, his voice firm but wet, tears suddenly starting to spill over onto his cheeks. “I’m always gonna try to save you, Leo. Always. And I won’t let you ask me not to. Not in a million years, alright?”
Leo stared at him, and Mikey watched as the memory suddenly dawned on him. “You remember that?” he murmured quietly.
“Of course I remember,” Mikey snapped, suddenly dragging an arm over his face to wipe away the tears, “That was the first time you called me Angelo.”
Leo opened his mouth to say something, but quickly clamped it shut again. Then he looked down at the floor and murmured, “Actually, it wasn’t.”
Mikey blinked, reality clapping him in the face, pulling him away from his mess of emotions long enough to say, “What?”
Leo pulled his gaze from the floor and let out a little sigh, before repeating, “It wasn’t… the first time, I mean.” He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, a look of concentration crossing his face as he started, “You were three? Four, maybe. Donnie had just introduced you to the stove, ‘responsible’ older brother that he was. He liked the dials and stuff—already a mechanical maniac. That’s probably why you became such a great cook…” he trailed off briefly, as if remembering something else, before shaking his head, “Anyways, I got sick with this high grade fever. It was terrible, really. I couldn’t get out of bed for like, a week, but you made me soup every day.” The timbre of his voice brightened slightly, warming with the memory. “ Every day,” he repeated, “And it was terrible too. No one introduced you to spices yet apparently—”
Mikey let out a little laugh, unable to help himself, and Leo smiled back at him fondly.
“But I ate it anyway, because it was you, and at least it didn’t burn my tongue off like the hot stuff Raph made. You’d watch me with this proud expression, waiting for me to finish the entire bowl, but I was so sick and it took me so long that you’d end up falling asleep right there next to me on my bed. That’s when I came up with the name. Angelo. My little angel. Always watching out for me. I… I used to whisper that to you in your sleep.” Leo’s eyes had grown wet now too, but as he finished the story he quickly brushed the unshed tears away. “So, yeah. That was the first time. Although,” he murmured, shooting Mikey a smile, “I guess you’re still watching out for me even now, huh little brother?”
Mikey reached up to wipe away his own tears again, but they were no longer angry or hurt. “Someone has to,” he replied with a smirk, spurring a sudden chuckle of laughter out of his older brother, but his voice turned more serious as he continued, “You’re always taking care of us, Leo. You have to let us take care of you too.” Leo’s expression suddenly soured, a grimace taking over his features—as if he didn’t really like the sound of that—but Mikey pressed on, “I know you don’t want to lose me, but I don’t want to lose you either. I’m always gonna try and save you and I’ll always come back for you. You’re… you’re my brother, Leo.”
Leo stared at him, as if the words weren’t quite reaching him all the way, as if Mikey was just telling him some sweet, beautiful lie that he’d always wanted to hear but no one had ever told him. As if he didn’t feel that he deserved this form of love. As if it wasn’t the only thing Mikey had to offer him.
“Listen, I don’t want anything like that to ever happen again,” Mikey started, “but if it does, I’m going to save you, whether you like it or not. And I won’t promise you otherwise.”
Leo clenched his jaw, the muscles around his temple flexing. Then, finally, he murmured, “I know,” before glancing away and muttering sheepishly, “I’d do the same… And I’m sorry I asked—”
But Mikey had already thrown his arms around his older brother’s shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. “It’s okay,” he replied, before squeezing his shoulders tighter and whispering, “I’d do the same.”
Leo stood there for a moment, surprised, before he finally buried his face into Mikey’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his little brother’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Thanks, Angelo.”