The Butterfly Effect - 2012 x 2018 TMNT

Chapter Eight

My teacher: You write really well. Have you had a lot of practice?

The 150 page story about turtles that are mutants and in the teenage age group that also happen to be ninjas meeting alternate versions of themselves in my pocket:

(tw: headcanons /j)

Mikey and Angelo were hanging out in Angelo's room, coloring. Both were laying on their plastrons, pieces of paper and crayons strewn about between them.

Angelo was having a bit of a hard time, as every few minutes, his hands would jolt and mess up his coloring. Suddenly, he groaned in defeat and smacked his brown crayon down on the ground.

"This is hopeless, I hate it!" he said, crossing his arms on the ground and burying his head in his forearms.

Mikey paused, a more general sense of pity flooding through him. Most people see pity as a bad thing, but Mikey thought it was a good thing to have. It was like sympathy and empathy.

"It's not hopeless," he replied softly.

"After creating that stupid portal, all my hands do is shake and I hate it!" Angelo shouted, voice cracking.

"But that portal saved Nardo!" Mikey replied, sitting up and scooting over to Angelo. He placed a hand on his shell. "Isn't that worth it? Having your brother here?"

Angelo was quiet, body shaking as he took breaths.

"You just have to embrace this, bro," Mikey added.

Angelo looked up at Mikey, his brow furrowed in frustration. "How can I embrace something that's ruining my favorite thing to do?" he asked fiercely.

Mikey paused. "Before your hands started doing the tremors, did you ever mess up on a drawing accidentally?"

"Well, yeah," Angelo mumbled. "Doesn't everybody?"

"You just gotta pretend like you meant to draw there," Mikey said, "like before your hands started shaking." Mikey picked the brown crayon up and started drawing, and eventually, it started to resemble wings. Angelo watched as Mikey colored them in and set the crayon back down.

"See?" he said, pointing at the wings. The drawing was now a pegasus, as the wings Mikey drew were spread out above the horse body. "It just lets you show even more creativity."

Angelo sniffled and picked up the paper, changing to a sitting position. He crossed his legs and wiped his wrist across his eyes. He smiled and looked at Mikey.

"Thanks." Angelo hugged Mikey, who hugged back immediately. They stayed in the embrace for a good ten or fifteen seconds, Mikey only letting go when Angelo started to.

"Your Dr. Feelings really came out just then, huh?" Angelo joked, his voice starting to level out.

"Dr. Feelings?" Mikey repeated, confused.

"Yeah, Dr. Feelings. Y'know, when you talk to people about their feelings and have a heart-to-heart?"

Mikey hummed in thought, then shrugged. "Nah, doesn't ring a bell."

"Do you have a Dr. Delicate Touch, at least?" Angelo tried.

"Nope!" Mikey replied chipperly, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly. "I just do whatever whenever I feel like it."

"The true form of Dr. Delicate Touch," Angelo whispered in awe. He imagined sparkles around Mikey that showed his admiration.

"YOU SLIMEY CART OF EXPIRED HAM!!"

Both Mikey and Angelo's attention snapped to where the shouting had come from. It was faint, which meant that it was relatively far away, maybe on the other side of the lair.