Too much, too fast

The kitchen was uncomfortably still. Michelangelo loooked up from poking his cereals to see the other two that were sitting at the table with him. Donatello wasn’t even bothering to pretend he was interested in his breakfast, staring off into space instead. Master Splinter was waiting for his green tea to cool down but Michelangelo noticed the cup wasn’t steaming anymore.
“So…” Michelangelo began. Master Splinter looked at him, Donatello took his time. “Who’s gonna lead the family now?”
Master Splinter heaved a breath. Donatello diverted his sight to his bowl. They were thinking about it.
“You know…” They raised their gazes. “I could do it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Mikey…” Donatello muttered.
“No, I’m serious,” Michelangelo gulped. “I’ve got this feeling that… all my life, you’ve been preparing me for this… when Leo’s out and Raph’s too heartbroken to do anything.” Master Splinter shuddered. Michelangelo noted it as weird but thought nothing of it. “I really think that if you just… gimme some time… I could do it.”
Master Splinter sighed. “Michelangelo, it is very brave of you to want to become the leader so soon after Leonardo departed. However, I believe the time for estabilishing a new leader has yet to come. It is too soon my son.” He gave Michelangelo a sympathetic look. “But your offer is very much appreciated.”
“Would you really do that?” asked Donatello, unbelieving. “You’ve always been the baby. And now you’re willing to grow up?”
Michelangelo shrugged uneasily. “But if master Splinter thinks it isn’t time yet, I’m more than happy to comply!” he quickly assured them. “I mean, it’s not like I want to be the leader. I just thought that… well, a turtle’s gotta do what a turtle’s gotta do!” he smiled. It was a little stiff but nonetheless genuine.
After a while of thinking, Donatello spoke up. “I don’t mind it.”
“Huh?”
“That you’ll be the leader.” Michelangelo’s eyes widened a bit and he threw master Splinter a quick glance.
“My son, I believe we have just agreed that Michelangelo would not take up the leadership for the time being,” master Splinter rectified.
“Oh… Well, I’d be okay with it anyway,” Donatello said. He eyed his bowl of cereals and apparently decided it wasn’t worth finishing. He got up from the table, already distracted. “See you later guys,” he mumbled as he headed for his room.
The kitchen sank in silence. Michelangelo ate a spoonful of breakfast and figured that the taste was good enough to make him feel better. He rolled every bite in his mouth for the sake of prolonging the time he could spend at the table. He didn’t want to be alone. Already he was missing Leonardo’s reassuring presence in the lair. Master Splinter drank up his tepid tea and got up.
“If you excuse me my son, I will be in my room meditating.” In other words, he wants time alone, Michelangelo translated and nodded, though his face fell. Master Splinter noticed this and turned to him.
“Perhaps you could go talk to Donatello. Leonardo’s sudden departure has left him with many questions, some of which he cannot answer,” he said. Michelangelo noticed a dark undertone to his voice, and it started bothering him – as if everyone knew something and only Mikey had no clue.
“Okay, I’ll go see him,” he agreed happily. “Um, master Splinter?”
“Yes, my son?”
“You don’t happen to know about Raph, do you...?” Raphael had stormed out of the lair early in the morning, according to master Splinter just after Leonardo left. Michelangelo had heard something pass by his room but since it was in the early hours and it made wailing sounds, he had discarded it as a ghost in his dream. He would have never thought to connect it to Raph – the sole idea of Raphael crying seemed bizzare. Or at least very, very ugly.
“No, my son.” Master Splinter sighed. “But I am sure that he will come back once the time is right.”
“Okay...” Michelangelo said in a small voice. Master Splinter nodded at him and disappeared down his room. “Right!” Michelangelo stuffed the rest of his breakfast into his mouth and after a brief consideration, he did the same to Donatello’s unfinished one. Beaming over his newfound appetite, he made a beeline for Don’s room. He took the handle but found it locked. Slightly worried, he decided to cheer Donatello up. He knocked on the door and called out: “Knock knock!”
He strained to hear the muffled “Who’s there?”
“Mikey!”
“Mikey who?”
“My key to your room’s lost, could you let me in?” A few moments later, the door opened.
“What is it Mikey?” Donatello asked and ushered him in.
“Nothing really. I just wanted to talk with my brother for a bit, is all...” Michelangelo chirped.
Donatello sighed. “Alright. Just don’t touch anything, will you?” He gave Michelangelo a wary look.
“Aww, but all your stuff looks so interesting!” Michelangelo whined.
“Here, you can play with this,” Donatello shoved a colourful glass object into his hands.
“Ooh, what’s that?” Michelangelo turned in in his hands, admiring all the shimmering colours.
“It’s an alien equivalent of a Rubiks cube made of varieties of quartz. I got it at Battle Nexus from a merchant. Thought you might like it.”
“Wow, you’ve waited this long to give me a gift? That’s sweet! What was the occasion? I don’t think it was my birthday at the time.”
“Well...” Donatello gave a hint of a smile. “It was originally a comfort gift.”
“What?”
“I was going to give it to you when you lost the Championship. As a sort of appeasing,” Donatello explained, a bit abashed.
“Wait a sec. You thought I was gonna lose? That is so sore, Donnie!” Michelangelo laughed, still very fond of the memory of his winning. Donatello mumbled something unintelligible but didn’t seem offended.
“Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?” he asked with a slight edge in his voice.
“Well, yeah, kinda... that too, I just... you know, a bit about everything,” Michelangelo surmised. “Like let each other know what we’re doing and such. Just some minor talking, gossiping, opening up our hearts...” There it was again – Donatello gave an involuntary shudder much like master Splinter had. “Letting me in on what you’ve been brewing behind my back... You and I haven’t talked for like, ever.”
“Have we?” Donatello resounded. Michelangelo waited until he said more. “You’re right. It’s been... months since we last had a talk.” He lifted his gaze from the dancing colours in his fingers and handed the gadget to Michelangelo. He took it, fascinated. “So, anything special you want to discuss?”
“Since you keep on insisting, I’ll tell you.” Michelangelo flashed a quick smile. “I think I’m repeating myself too but repetition is the mother of wisdom, right? So, do tell me. What’s been going on in this family without me knowing?”
“A lot, I suppose.” Michelangelo tensed – was Donnie going to spill the beans? But no, his brother said no more, staring stubbornly at Michelangelo’s hands instead.
“Does it have anything to do with Leo goíng south overnight?”
Donatello closed his eyes. “I’m afraid so.”
Michelangelo’s “Something’s wrong” alarm went off with loud screaming in his head. Donatello hadn’t said that just for the sake of the phrase, he was actually scared that whatever Michelangelo hadn’t caught up to caused Leo to leave. And there was guilt in his voice – what could Don have done to think it scared Leonardo away? Or (Michelangelo felt the urge to shudder as well) what could Don have done to actually do it? It wasn’t like the fearless Leonardo to run from things; if possible, he took on even more. Michelangelo had long suspected that one of these days, he would take on more than he could manage and become clueless as to what to do about the weight. But running away? Leo?
“Come on, maybe it wasn’t that,” Michelangelo attempted to comfort him. “Master Splinter did say that he sent him away to become a better leader. It might be just the leadership stuff.”
“And why do you suppose master Splinter would think Leo needed to become a better leader?” Donatello said glumly. “You aren’t as stupid as not to realise that lazing around in the jungle won’t improve his leading skills. And neither am I,” he added, frowning. “I’m not as socially intelligent as you but...” he clenched his fists on his thighs, “I can see this quite clearly.”
“See what, Donnie?” Michelangelo probed carefully.
“That he’s running away from us. Leo’s running away... from me.” Donatello squeezed his eyes shut and fought back tears. Alarmed, Michelangelo scurried to his side and wrapped his arm around Donatello’s shell. Donatello blindly, as if he wasn’t even aware of it, leaned on him.
“Maybe we ought to sit down for this,” Michelangelo said and looked around. He chose the bed; he walked Donatello to it and pushed him down to sit. He sat right next to him and Donatello pressed to his side again, only this time he seemed to realise it and leaned away with stiff shoulders. Michelangelo shortly wondered when Donatello had become so touch-affectionate, and pressed the colourful gadget into Don’s hands. “Hold this,” he told him and hugged him from the side. Donatello sighed and relaxed against him.
“You know, you feel a lot like him this way,” he muttered quietly.
“Like Leo?”
“Yeah.”
“Gee, thanks,” Michelangelo grinned. “I try.” He pulled Donatello closer with one arm and let go of him with the other. “So spill. What’s up between you and Leo?”
“Mikey... you have to promise that you won’t hate me,” Donatello pleaded. Michelangelo tilted his head to the side.
“Don, you’re my bro, of course I won’t hate you. And neither will Leo, you know.”
Donatello only laughed helplessly. “That’s what I thought,” he said. Michelangelo just held him and waited. “Where should I begin?” Donatello mused, watching his six fingers play with the shimmering alien gadget, turning it over and occasionally twisting it. “Ah. Yes.” He took a breath and started talking.
To Michelangelo it seemed like an avalanche, started by a loud cry of a careless hiker. It consumed all that came in its path and grew larger and larger in his head, carried by Donatello’s at times lively, at times monotone voice, ringing in his ears until Donatello squirmed and told him: “M-Mikey, not so tight.”
“Oh... sorry,” Michelangelo said and loosened his grip on his brother.
“Are you... alright? You aren’t mad, are you?” Donatello asked.
“No... it’s just a lot to take in. I never thought you had this side to you,” Michelangelo shook his head to help it accept the news. “But...” he continued, suddenly not so keen on letting Donatello talk, “it’s true that when we opened up to the world, you were always the one to hit on girls. I mean, April, Jhanna, all the chicks took to you. Except for Karai, she took to Leo.” He would have been amused by the way Donatello’s face darkened at that, only if he didn’t know what it meant.
“Yes, well...” Donatello sighed. “It’s not like I can tell them what to do. It’s their business. Although I highly doubt that he’ll take to her now, being the new Shredder and all...” He rubbed his face. “I suppose I can cut to the chase now. A few days ago, Leo came to me and wanted to talk. Somehow I got the feeling that he already knew what was up. He asked me directly about the time I first discovered that... I wanted him. So I...”
“You...” Michelangelo’s words caught in his throat, he found himself unable to say them because of the dread they built up in his stomach.
“...I told him,” Donatello finished.
“You... oh shell. Oh shell, no wonder Leo’s been actiang off these last few days!” Michelangelo cried, his voice bordering hysterics.
“He has?” Donatello echoed.
“Of course you dummy! And I thought you were the smart one!”
“Well not emotionally! I’ve said already that I’m not very good with such complicated feelings, they’re too confusing to figure out!” Donatello defended himself.
“You need anything to figure out that if you tell something like this to Leo, he’ll freak out?!” Michelangelo shouted unbelievingly. Donatello pulled away from him, glaring him in the eyes.
“But he asked for it! Just like you did! You’re freaking out much more than Leo did but would you have stopped had I refused to answer your question in the first place?”
“No,” Michelangelo admitted. “But still-”
“Leo’s the leader, dammit! He’s supposed to be able to take on such things!” Donatello argued, a desperate tone becoming clear in his voice. Michelangelo suddenly felt ashamed. Why was he criticising his genious brother if he had thought that what he did was for the best? Michelangelo couldn’t take anything back by despising his brother’s decisions and also... Donatello had a point.
“...You’re right,” Michelangelo mumbled and sighed. “It’s just too much at once. Sorry I lashed out at you. You just did what I told you to. I meant no offence.”
“None taken,” Donatello said with a relieved expression. Before he could speak up again, Michelangelo did. He figured it was a pretty good way to steer the conversation the way he wanted, so that he wouldn’t get another uncalled for surprise.
“But you know, I... it’s true. Leo should be able to take this on. I don’t think he’d freak out this much from learning that one of his brothers wanted to be all over him.” Donatello opened his mouth to protest against the poor choice of words. “I mean, you do say that you ain’t so socially bright but you’re not dense either. I think you’d be at least a little bit considerate when it comes to dealing Leo such a blow.”
“Mikey, thanks for believing in me but...”
“The question is,” Michelangelo paid no heed. “If it wasn’t you, then what did send him over the edge?” They both fell silent, contemplating this.
“The last time we saw Leo?”
“Um... at April’s? He wasn’t in the lair in the evening, I looked for him.”
“I’m sure Fearless left April’s appartment with us. I can remember him complaining that he was too tired to move.” Michelangelo smirked. “And how Raph took him for it and said he’d stay with him. That was hilari... Donnie?”
Donatello was staring ahead, wide-eyed. Even his hands stopped playing with the glass riddle.
“Earth to Don?” Michelangelo tried.
“...Oh shell,” Donatello whispered. “If that’s what... oh shell.”
“What? What is it?” Michelangelo asked eagerly.
“The last time we saw Leo was with Raph,” Donatello said slowly. Michelangelo raised an eye ridge.
“What? You don’t think Raph took advantage of him, beat him uncounscious and stuffed him into a crate instead of one of those statues?”
“No. Worse.”
“He killed him and master Splinter’s covering for him?”
“No! And how can you say such a thing?”
Michelangelo raised his hands in defense. “Hey, only guessing...” Donatello gave him an incredulous look. “It was a joke! Dude I’m just trying to lighten up!”
“You’ll need a lot of lightening up when I tell you what I know,” Donatello mumbled darkly. Michelangelo winced.
“You’ll need a lot of lightening up when I tell you what I think I know,” Donatello mumbled darkly. Michelangelo jerked.
“Hang on, is it another one of those things I’d rather not know?”
“Probably.”
“Then I don’t wanna hear it!”
“So you want to ignore our only clue?”
“Oh...! Alright! Tell me! Curiosity killed the cat!”
Donatello frowned, watching closely how his fingers twisted the colourful gadget. “I like to add that satisfaction brought it back.”
“You got satisfaction out of this?”
“Quite a lot actually... Well, I have a reason to think...” he took a breath and said in a voice of the most fragile hope: “that Raph might love Leo as well.”
“Dude what... why?” Michelangelo gaped, his brain’s clockwork turning despite his will.
“Let’s say that I’ve seen one of our futures,” Donatello said carefully.
“How?” Michelangelo put so much disbelief in his tone that his brother winced and backed up. “Okay, nevermind that,” Mikey sighed, noting that he shouldn’t scare him off. “Just tell my why you think Raphael should be all over the leader as well.”
Donatello nodded, weighing his words. “In that future, I overheard a conversation between future Raph and Leo. They were arguing over something that had happened 30 years ago. That’s about now.”
He shot Michelangelo a look to make sure he was following it.
“Future, now, get to the point.”
“They were blaming each other for the breakdown of their family.”
“Wait, our family will break down in the future?” Michelangelo interrupted, a sudden nausea spiking up his chest. It sounded too familiar to what they were experiencing at the very moment.
“I’ve been trying to prevent it from happening, and so far I think I’ve been successful,” Donatello’s lips formed a shaky smile. “Because that future went to hell the moment I disappeared and never came back. So as long as I stay here...”
“...that future can’t happen,” Michelangelo finished for him. “Is that why you didn’t leave the family even when things got rough?”
“Actually,” Donatello gave a full-blown shudder, “I seriously contemplated it before I saw that future.”
“Damn,” Michelangelo stated softly.
“Yes, damn.” Donatello sighed. “From what I heard or overheard, that family broke apart after a major falling out between Leo and Raph. And I mean major. Raph did something terrible to him and they never got over it.”
“Raph did something terrible... like what?”
“During that argument he said that he had done it out of love, but he hadn’t realised it at the moment.”
“Out of love... something terrible... oh shell, you don’t mean...?” Michelangelo’s eyes widened, pleading to make this possibility go away.
“What if this is exactly what happened between Raph and Leo last night?” Donatello pressed on mercilessly. Michelangelo clutched his head.
“No,” he choked out. “Raph wouldn’t do this to Leo. No. Way. In. Hell!”
“Mikey,” Donatello said, grabbing his shoulders. “Calm down. Even if that is what happened, we can’t do anything about it now, except for going to get Raph and fixing what we can.”
“But... but what about Leo?” Michelangelo nearly shrieked. “That poor guy’s on the plane and – and imagine how he must feel!”
“I’ve tried to,” Donatello hung his head, leaning over and hugging Michelangelo. Mikey sobbed and mumbled:
“That’s totally unfair.”
“I know,” Donatello sighed.
“And what about Raph? He’s probably running around on the surface, trying to kill the guilt... shell, that’s gotta be ugly...” Michelangelo grimaced.
“We need to go and fetch him,” Donatello said firmly. “Before he does something even worse.”
“But dude, how?”
“Shellcells can be tracked...”
“No I mean, how do we fetch him? My hands’re still shaking from what you’ve just told me, and I don’t think Raph will listen to reason,” Michelangelo objected.
“Maybe if we bring master Splinter along... and Casey perhaps...”
“What, you want to tag the big bonehead along? Wasn’t this a supposed to be a secret a moment ago?”
“Do you think we can keep it a secret any longer?” Donatello looked at him with serious eyes.
“I don’t know, maybe?” Michelangelo offered.
“With you knowing?”
“I can hold my tongue.” Donatello raised his eyeridges. “Okay, maybe not.”
“We have to hurry,” the genius said. “Let’s go get father and then find Raph.” He got up, reaching back to make sure his bo was in place.
“Is it just me,” Michelangelo mumbled, “or are you a bit too happy about this?”
Donatello smiled sheepishly. “I feel like a big weight’s come off my shoulders.”
“Figures,” Michelangelo smirked, getting up. “Let’s go. Either way this is gonna be radical.”
The colourful alien gadget was lying on the bed, shimmering quietly. It was solved completely.

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