And, Love

Part 23

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You closed your eyes, swallowing your grin as you straightened.

Turned.

"Oh." You kept your voice flat, unimpressed. "Hello Michelangelo." Fingers clutched around the mint plant as your heart picked up pace. "Fancy meeting you here." You motioned around the lab.

"Fanc-" He pressed fingers to his temple. "Fancy meeting me here?"

Your grin widened as you nodded.

"This is my home." His incredulity was a twisted pleasure in your chest. "You weren't supposed to- I, we-"

"M'kay." You rose, patting his shoulder. "So sweet to see you tongue tied over me but I have a date."

Oh, that hit target. Mikey's face tightened, body stiffening. But you acted like you hadn't seen a thing.

Turning to Donnie you held up the mint. "So sorry that I killed the first one. I'll take much better care of..." you frowned at the plant. "Cocoa."

"I'll hold you to it." Donnie, to his credit, didn't look up from the welding project in front of him, goggles reflecting the light put off by the handheld flame. Hands moving steadily.

"You-"

You brushed by Mikey, ignoring him as he followed you out.

You nodded at Raph, who was sitting at the table, crutches set beside him as he flipped through a comic.

"Stop!" Mikey pleaded as you turned down a hallway to the exit closest to your cafe.

You paused. Turned.

"Lost the cast, huh?" You moved your arm, mirroring the one he'd broken.

"Wh-yes."

You nodded. "Good for you."

"Th-" lips popped as Mikey realigned his train of thought. "Why are you here?"

You shrugged. "Donnie needed some supplies, couldn't leave." You glanced at your watch. "It's three in the afternoon. So I bought them and brought them down for him."

You smiled brightly at Mikey's visible frustration. "But I broke up with you."

Your smile sharpened at the edges. "You did!" Overly cheerful, overly bright. "But," you stepped forward, poking his chest. "I'm still good friends with the rest of your family." Eyes dragged up his chest, his throat.

Watched him swallow hard as you met his eyes. "My family."

His breath was coming faster. You narrowed your gaze on him, flicking his chin. A small laugh escaped you at his exaggerated flinch, the way Mikey staggered back and sheepishly recovered, rubbing his chin.

"Did you really think ending things with me would mean I wouldn't be part of your life?" You let out a practiced incredulous chuckle. "Come on, Mikey." You shook your head, practically hearing the gears whirling in his head. "Oh." You pinned him with a glare, tightening your grip on Cocoa. "How's your little feud with painter boy?"

You couldn't help the perverse glee as he shifted, fidgety.

Ever since that night a week ago you'd gone out of your way to torture Mikey. So friendly it was hostile. Painting over his works nearly as soon as they popped up. Showing up at the lair every chance you had.

And now, the big leap. A date.

"It's fine." His voice tense despite the shrug. The smile.

"Oh, is it?" You didn't drop your smile. "Good to hear. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"A date?"

That broke your heart. The pain in his voice. You sighed.

"Look, Angelo-" you cleared your throat at the way his eyes widened, looking too much like a puppy that had been kicked. "Michael." You corrected. "I get it. I do."

You shook your head, trying to shake out the image of Raph carved open, Donnie covered in blood up to his elbows. Leo's ragged, exhausted face as he sat, unmoving from Raph's bed. Splinter losing fur from stress in your hand as you tried to comfort him. Or Mikey.

He'd avoided you so hard. But you'd still caught glimpses. A ghost of himself. You didn't know the whole story. Maybe you never would. But it didn't take a genius to know each brother blamed themselves for what happened. And you knew Mikey carried the weight of not having been there to help like a badge. Like a label.

Like it had branded him as not good enough.

"I know that what happened to me scared you-" He scoffed. You ignored him, watching his eyes water. "I know what happened to Raphael was traumatic and I know it hurt you, all," you emphasized. "Deeply."

Mikey looked scared, terrified. Fragile.

You wanted to hold him.

"But you ended it." You frowned, shrugged. "You said you'd rather me be with someone else. Remember?"

"But-"

"No." The word was quiet, firm. "No." You waved your hand. "No more. I'll see ya."

You turned on a heel, leaving quickly, before you lost your nerve. You had an appointment anyway, you couldn't spend forever assuaging Mikey's own hurt feelings. He did this to himself.

You pulled out onto the sidewalk, Cocoa tucked into your arms.

No. You frowned, looking at the street signs. Crossing the street quick. He did this to me. You closed your eyes as you strode past a guy with a sign, begging for cash. You dropped some loose change into his cup as you turned a corner.

Nose felt cold, eyes ached with the chilly air. You pulled your hat down lower over your ears, pausing in front of one store front. Christmas decorations being swapped for New Years shit. You sniffled, continuing as the person setting up the display snapped their gaze to you.

The house you approached was large, unassuming. A boring, yellowing white with a large placard beside the steps. You hadn't bothered to read it as you stride past.

You knew all about Christ's Home for Wayward Children.

You didn't give a shit who had donated to the founding of the building.

The door creaked open as it always had. The entryway floorboards groaned and creaked. The wearing of the wood darker along the well-trod path to the office. Pictures of past leadership on the walks. Clothing and demeanor evolving, a weird time-lapse. From stern faced nuns to black and white conservative to colorful, shaggy hippies, to Monica.

You knocked quick on the texturing glass in the door.

"C'mon in, love."

You grinned, ducked into the room, softly closing the door behind you. "Who've we got here, Mon?"

"This-" She motioned across her desk, wide smile brilliant against her dark complexion. "Is Tony."

You looked down at the proudly sitting kid. His dark eyes fixated on you, glare narrowed. His hair braided tight, orange headband obscuring his hairline. Freckles added texture to his deep complexion. Piercing brilliantly gold on his lip. Ears flashed with diamonds. Tattoo's danced across his knuckles.

You felt your heart twist as you slowly sat in the empty chair beside Tony.

"Hey kid." You kept your hands on your lap, in plain sight. You smiled gently, you didn't stare.

"Who the fuck are you, Fruit?" Tony's eyes narrowed as he slouched further in his chair, eyes scrutinizing.

He reminded you of a kitten doing their best to look big.

"Tony!" Monica admonished. "He's-"

"It's all good." You chuckled. "I remember calling a few potentials something similar."

Tony straightened a little. "You were a-"

"Orphan?" You supplied. "I was, yes." You turned back to him, leaning forward just a little. "And I heard you were aging out?"