Morning
That morning, a large sign appeared on Michelangelo’s door.
-Want to go in? Say “Knock knock!”-
“Is Mikey up yet?” Leonardo asked when only three turtles showed up for breakfast.
“I wouldn’t know,” Raphael grumbled and poured milk on his cereals. Donatello said nothing and instead crept away from the counter where he was making coffee, leaving the kitchen stealthily.
“I’ll go get him in that case,” Leonardo announced, letting everyone know of his sacred right to wake Michelangelo up in the morning.
“Already at it,” Donatello called, violating that right instantly. Leonardo frowned in a sinister manner.
Donatello came to Michelangelo’s room, read the sign, ignored it and found the door locked.
“Mikey let me in,” he said. A voice from inside replied:
“Say ‘Knock knock!’” Donatello sighed.
“I’m not going play this silly game.” The voice insisted:
“Say ‘Knock knock!’”
“Will you let me in then?”
“Yeah but say ‘Knock knock’.” Donatello gave in.
“Knock knock.” He waited patiently until the voice croaked, sounding scared and vulnerable:
“Who’s there?” Donatello was taken aback by the complete change of tone.
“Don, it’s Don. Are you okay in there Mike?”
“Don who?” the voice inquired suspiciously. Only then did Donatello realise that he’d let Michelangelo’s emotional voice override his intellect. He rubbed his face.
“Don’t make me do this.” The door opened. Donatello, caught by surprise, came in.
“Where ARE they?” Leonardo said in a low voice. Raphael raised his head, interested why Leo was using his trademark tone.
“Butt-fucked?” he asked with a smirk. Leonardo closed off his face but his eyes betrayed him.
“They’ll be late for breakfast,” he stated, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. He couldn’t keep setting the table afire by his glare for long though, as he got up soon and made his way to Michelangelo’s room.
“Mikey!” he called and knocked on the door. His suspicion rose when he heard giggling and laughter.
“You’ve got to say “Knock knock!’ bro!” Michelangelo’s voice bubbled out.
“Open the door,” Leonardo said in his fearsome command tone.
“Say ‘Knock knock!’ first!” But it had no effect.
“I said open up!”
“Only if you say ‘Knock knock!’”
“Gee Leo, can’t you read?” Leonardo stiffened when Donatello spoke. He took a few deep breaths to calm his rising anger and said:
“Knock knock.”
“Who’s ther – argh!” Leonardo flinched.
“Mike!” he yelled through the door. No one responded. Leonardo considered whether he got blamed for slicing the door open when a shaky voice finally said:
“Mike who?” Leonardo made a decision.
“My katanas will make your door history if you don’t – oh.” In the doorframe stood Donatello, smiling and never knowing what hit him when Leonardo lunged forward.
Raphael was startled from eating by an inarticulate scream. He jumped to his feet and ran out of the kitchen, looking around wildly.
“Raph!” Donatello screamed from Michelangelo’s room. Raphael hurried toward it and pounded on the door.
“Open up!” he shouted. The sounds of fight nearly drowned out an unsure voice saying:
“Y-you have to say ‘Knock knock!’” Raphael growled.
“You know where you can stick your ‘Knock knock!’”
“Who’s there?” the voice answered.
“Raph dammit, let me in!”
“Raph who?” The sounds in the background grew stronger and more violent. Raphael backed up and prepared himself to smash down the door.
“Rough up your door,” he yelled a warning, hurled himself forward and flew right through.
“Whoa!”
“Agh!”
“Ack!”
Four turtle brothers were lying in a pile, utterly confused and aching. They quickly came back to their senses and began trying to untangle their bodies without dislocating anything.
“What the shell?” Donatello spoke first, putting all his disbelief into these words.
“What happened?” Raphael groaned, holding his head.
“I opened the door and something red rocketed right at me,” Michelangelo said. “Was that you Raph?”
“Yeah. Just what the fuck were you doing to Donnie?” Raphael asked in a dangerous tone.
“Did you... really attack me Leo? Why?” Donatello asked, sounding hurt. Raphael turned to Leonardo and bared his teeth. The leader had wasted no time talking and moved inbetween Michelangelo and Donatello. He was glaring at Don so fiercely that the genius shrunk back.
“What were you doing here?” Leonardo growled in a voice that Raphael monopolised for death threats. All three brothers looked at him in surprise.
“I...” Donatello stuttered.
“You and Mike. What were you doing in here?” Leonardo repeated, glaring murder.
“You got no business stickin’ yer nose in that,” Raphael responded, coming closer to Leonardo. His brother’s eyes flicked to him and Raphael held that stare until he moved between him and Donatello.
“Back off Raphael,” Leonardo said icily.
“No way in hell,” Raphael snapped.
“Back. Off.”
“I said no.”
Just as they tensed to jump at each other’s throats, Michelangelo found his voice again.
“We weren’t doing anything,” he said, offended. Leonardo turned his head slightly to look at him and Raphael naturally took the chance to punch him in the face. Leonardo’s hand flew up to catch his fist as he demanded:
“Explain.”
“He came to tell me it was breakfast time,” Michelangelo began, his eyes flickering between the fighting brothers. While he was clarifying that Donatello and him weren’t doing anything wrong, Leonardo composed himself.
“Is that all?” he asked in his normal voice.
“I swear on my mother,” Michelangelo nodded. Leonardo returned the gesture, a little stiff but relieved.
“That doesn’t explain why Don was screaming for me,” Raphael objected and narrowed his eyes. “Is it true that you attacked him Leo?”
Leonardo closed his eyes for a second. They were rock hard when he opened them again. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed, never minding an animal rumbling that came out of Raphael’s chest. “And I did it because he should know his place.”
“Know my place?” Donatello repeated, incredulity thick in his voice. “Since when have I not known my place? May I remind you that I’ve always been the one who never talked back?”
“This isn’t about talking back. This is about stealing what’s mine.”
“What have I stolen from you then?”
“Michelangelo.”
During the silence, Donatello’s, Raphael’s and then Michelangelo’s eyes widened with shocked understanding. The four brothers stared at each other, taking in the new situation. Michelangelo cleared his throat.
“Am I the only one who finds this too weird to be true?”
His answer were three firm glares.
“Shell,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “And all this before breakfast.”