Chapter Text
Mikey’s brothers have come for him. He’s back where he belongs, but surely it doesn’t feel like it. Not as long as he has to keep pretending nothing happened.
Now the orange kid was standing in the kitchen of the farmhouse, washing plates after dinner, while staring out the window blankly. His body was present, but his mind was far far away. Maybe even back in Dimension X.
Suddenly a loud crash pulled him out of his head space. He stared down into the sink. The ceramics plate he was holding shattered into tiny pieces, his hand was covered in cuts and his blood was gettin all over the sink.
This has been happening a lot lately. Whenever he got too caught up in his own thoughts, he forgot about his brute strength and ended up breaking some stuff. Mainly delicate objects like glasses or plates, given that he was so not used to handling those objects. Well not anymore.
Furthermore he did break his shell phone a few times and the tv remote was also in constant need of reparation.
It really didn’t help how he had this…. this uneasiness? Restlessness? He is so pent up! In Dimension X, staying on the move, even when you’re injured, tired or hungry, was a key element of survival, but back here home ( Well not quite home, but the farmhouse surely started to feel like one.) he was supposed to lay low and stay put.
Gah, he can’t take it. His claws, his teeths all are itching for some action. His body is restless and he hates it so much. He could kill for a good hunt, to dash around on all four and eat his prey without as much as cooking it.
SHEll ! What is he thinking?! Ever since he came back he just can’t help it….. He has eyes to see, ears to hear, all the differences between him and his brothers.
His memory is less hazy, he can recall most of the things now and maybe that’s why he keeps feeling this awful. Because he now clearly sees all the ways Dimension X twisted him inside out.
And wouldn’t it drive anyone crazy? Knowing something is wrong with you, knowing what it is exactly and yet being unable to do anything against it.
The orange kid really starts to feel like this is some sort of divine punishment, because he took his brother’s actually little sibling’s place. Even if that’s truly him… Even if the little brother that meant to stand in the kitchen right now doesn’t exist…. not anymore!
Ok that’s enough of being all emo! That’s not his character.
Besides thing aren’t that baaaaad….
The first few days he spent in the lair after being brought back home was actually great. If he turns a blind eye to a few things.
Like how he almost got some sort of seizure from all the colors the home dimension has. He definitely doesn’t remember being able to see this many. Four hours on end he kept cradling his head from the killer headache he was getting. Thankfully Donnie quickly came to the rescue even though he only knew half truths such as “ I have a headache bro!” he did his best. The genius quickly shut every light off and gave him some good old medication, he also ordered the other two brothers to stay quiet.
God Mikey was appreciating the darkness, since it makes him deal with way less flashy colors. The darkness really feels like home, which is kinda sad now to think about it.
After that he slowly adjusted to seeing that wicked dance of a bazillion ( slight exaggeration) colors. The neon signs of New York and the tv were still bothersome tho, but ok he’s been through worse…. A lot worse… He doesn’t want to think about it!
Now, it all was peachy. The farmhouse and its surrounding was slightly desaturated. The colors surrounding it were mainly just brown, blue ( both colors that he couldn’t quite recognise and saw as just another shade of purple) and green. So It was shooting for his eyes.
Another trouble he ran into since he returned home was sleeping. Back in that cursed dimension there was no night and day, thus the orange kid’s sleep schedule was based solely on his natural inner clock. Whenever he got tired he slept, assuming it must have been a day or so.
He couldn’t be more wrong…
When they got back to the lair, he was tired, had an intense headache and all his senses were over exhausted to say the least, so obviously he was fast asleep as soon as his purple brother covered him with a warm blanket.
But after that? Nope, he couldn’t sleep. His brothers were dead on their feets by bedtime, but he did not felt any need to sleep for three days straight, regardless what kind of physical or mental work he completed during the day.
Turns out what he thought was one day worth of time in Dimension X is actually three. So, he can only sleep in every three days.
That’s sucks. Especially when you’re trying to keep your brothers away from the horrid truth.
Oh yes, his brothers weren't blind. They noticed his weird behavior.
The way he now preferred to sleep curled up on the floor instead of a bed. The way he flinched and jumped at the slightest sounds. The way that one time he almost threw Raph across the room when he sneaked behind him and almost touched his shell. And he could go on and on.
Honestly at this point the little turtle is sure that the only reason why his secret is still safe is because the invasion gives a great cover up.
With poor Leo in a coma, Raph never leaving his side, Donnie holed up in the barn and Chasey and April being all awkward in the situation, he’s left to his own devices. He's all alone… This... wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to never be alone again. Yet here he is again.
He really just wishes he could just bug one of his brothers with his presence. But whenever he delivers food to the bathroom for Raph the guy starts to give him the cold shoulder after a few seconds. And Donnie… his all busy with who knows what scientific wizardry and he always shoo away the orange kid as soon as he finishes his food. If he even touches it at all.
Mikey knows everyone has a lot of things on their minds. Heck he has too! But he can’t help but feel… rejected, casted out. Still he can’t be selfish! Not a dire time like this!
So, he quickly dicards the broken plate into the trash bin, and cleans the sink. He has an unnaturally fast healing now, but still, the wounds on his hand won’t disappear in a minute or two, so he shall bandage it up. After all, even if someone would notice it ( Let’s be real for a moment, the young turtle knows no one will.) he could chalk it off as their airheaded little brother zoning out while cutting vegetables or something.
The orange kid opens an upper cabinet on the left side of the kitchen. There are three shelves. If he remembers correctly from last time he asked April she said the bandages are on the bottom shelf in a mint blue cookie box.
The only problem is, there are like ten cookie boxes, all of the seemingly just purple for the little turtle. Which means that they are either all different shades of blue or brown or the combination of two.
Now, since he got home he worked out a way he could recognise certain blue colors. But his method heavenly relied on a specific color guide. And the mentioned color guide was currently marinating unconsciously in a bathtub on the upper floor. It was Leo. Mikey always used his blue brother’s bandana to tell what kind of blue color he was seeing.
He knew for a fact that Leo’s bandana, that now appeared as some sort of desaturated grayish purple to him, was sapphire blue just like his brother’s eyes. Now if, that “purple” color went whiter than it was,that meant it was a lighter blue like the sky. If it went blacker, then it was close to navy blue. Anything that went more saturated purple than that, was Blueberry or Ink colored in reality. Of course for Mikey all of it was just different shades of purple.
So, right now he had no idea which cursed box could’ve had the bandaids.
But that moment he heard a noise from behind. The sudden sound of footsteps made the orange kid get all stiff, eyes wide and his blue irises starting to fade white.
Oh right he had blue eyes! Maybe he should try to use this as color guidance? But it’s very unconventional. As he needs to have some sort of shiny surface or a mirror with him and stare at his own reflection. And Mikey has to admit, he was straight up terrified every time he caught a glimpse of his own form. His brothers might've not noticed, or brushed it off, but he was hyper aware of every little scar, little changes he had. All of them brought forth memories he wanted to keep buried and leave to rot.
Whenever he saw his reflection he felt even more wrong than he did on a daily basis. Like if that wasn't him. Like if he was stuck in a foreign body. One that he wanted nothing to do with. And every time his breathing started to pick up, his heart beat out his chest and overall he just felt sick to the stomach, till he eventually averted his gaze from the horrid creature the mirror was trying to sell as “Mikey”. That wasn’t him…..
But thankfully he doesn’t need to risk a panic attack just to find some bandages as it turns out the footsteps belonged to the one and only Casey Jones.
“ What’s up dude? You’d been staring holes into that cabinet for a while now!”
“ Oh,hi Casey…. I just need a bandaid or two, but forgot which cookie box had it.” Lied the orange kid.
“No problemo, leave it to the amazing Casey Jones! “ Exclaims the boy as he reaches up to a box and pulls one out.
“Here dude!” He says as he holds the box out for the orange turtle to take.
Mikey accepts the cookie box opening it up. Casey was right, this is indeed the bandage holder.
The little turtle quickly proceeds to wrap things up and instinctively coughs up a little bit of his acid, mixes it with his saliva in his mouth then spits it onto his hand. Only realizing after the deed that the human boy is still standing beside him leaning against the kitchen counter and just staring at his perplexing action.
“ Ahh… uhhh…” Mikey groans, trying to come up with some clever explanation.
“ Wicked! Finally someone who gets it! There is no need for those fancy disinfectants! Bleh! Spit is nature’s wound care.”
God, it’s so lucky Casey is an idiot!
The orange kid quickly patched up his wound. Casey lingered around for a while, seemingly wanting to say something. Maybe it was important, maybe he just wanted to strike up a conversation. But he had no such luck. It was just awkward. The poor guy circled in the kitchen leaning to this cabinet and that counter and even a chair that almost got him fall over. Eventually he give up and left.
Mikey might should’ve said something. He might should've broke the ice. But he was just as lost of words as Casey. Besides, he has no idea what he should talk about. The things what are actually on his mind, are not ones he wants to share. He really misses the times when he just spoke every word that came to mind. It was innocent. So, like him. What he is right now is really not like the person he is supposed to be. Still he’s too caught up with mourning the loss of that little innocence… He let Casey slip away. Maybe it’s for the better. He wasn’t in the mood to talk anyways.
….They all leave eventually either ways…
Times like these the little one lowkey wished they didn’t even come at all. Why did they come at all? Just to tease him? To torment him? That so cruel! He’s already broken and shattered. Tiny pieces off his soul are all across the farmhouse. He scattered them in hopes that someone might find them and put them back together. Every time he silently passes one of his brothers…. Unseen, invisible, with no proof he even exists… The orange kid’s heart sinks and he lays down another broken piece of himself. It makes no sense… Maybe not for the sane. But at this point he can’t be called that. He’s so small, lost and tired. Fucking tired!
He wanders the halls, the living room, this entire ghost town of a house as one of its ghosts. He haunts the cold empty kitchen like an aimless shadow of himself.
Eyes all foggy for hours on end. He tries to make himself useful. Muster the energy to do so. But it’s getting harder and harder each day to just find the strength to stand up. No… It’s not the strength he actually lacks, it’s the reason.
Why is he even waking up in the morning? For who is he even doing this?
And once again he’s on the floor curled up, crying for hours on end. But no one comes… No one cares…..
He was saved, but damned to suffer at the same time.