And, Love

Part 37

Mikey sniffled. He didn't pull away when you used your weirdly wet face mask to wipe his snot before settling back down into his arms.

"Gross." He sighed, looking at his own bag of spray paint. "We should probably get inside.

"You think?" 

Your tone made him glance down, watch as you snuggled tighter into him. Your face looked rough. That sucked. Mikey wanted to move, wanted to get you treated. Wanted to get inside.

But he couldn't.

"I love you." It was a watery whisper that raked its way over his hoarse voice. "A-and I'm so, so sorry?" Mikey wrapped around you, pulled you in tight. Squeezed. "I'm sorry I broke up with you. I'm sorry I was so stubborn. I-"

You stopped him, cool fingers pinched his cheeks, stretched them painfully. Mikey's heart dropped at your glare. He knew you were going to ask.

Still he wasn't ready for it.

"What happened?"

Eyes closed. Heart sped up. Tears built behind closed lids. But you didn't push, despite starting to shiver.

"Dad." The sobbed word held all Mikey's heartbreak. And he felt you flinch.

Like you'd been struck.

"Let's get you inside." Quiet. Insistent.

Mikey watched as you stood, carefully folding up your jacket. Grabbing both bags of paint. The mask.

"Wonder if it's good anymore." You muttered, lifting your bag and rattling the can together before turning to Mikey. "C'mon." You motioned at him, watched as Mikey struggled. "Put your dick away and get down fuckin' stairs, pervert."

"Yeah, yeah." Mikey heaved himself to his feet, zipped his pants, and followed you as you led the way to the roof access. Each step lighter than the one before. Like weights being lifted.

"When?" Mikey watched as you paused to dig the key out of your pocket, making him feel a little stupid for how flustered the idea of getting caught had him.

Of course you wouldn't have done that to him. Expose him like that. But still.

"When what?" Arms crossed as the key went into lock.

"When did you figure out who I was?" Knob turned.

"Oh!" Door opened, Mikey tried not to grin like an idiot. Or be too bubbly about it. Leo had warned him it could hurt your feelings. "So remember how I was an idiot-"

"Which time." You retorted, waiting for Mikey to hit the landing to your house before switching off the access light.

"Har har." Eyes rolled. "Well," This time Mikey led the way to your apartment. Door held open for you. "Remember when you threw a plant at my head-"

"It wasn't!" You started strong as you led the way to the kitchen, immediately pouring water into the coffee machine, hitting start. Winced and leaned against the counter, arms folding. "Necessarily at your. You know. Head."

Mikey rolled his eyes, pointing at the top cupboard as you both turned to look. The scuff mark was still visible and also at nearly eye level with the ninja.

"Circumstantial." You scoffed, smiling at his wide grin. Wincing.

"I'm sorry for that too." Mikey's hands twisted. "I was so angry-"

"Nah." You waved him off. "Been through worse. You better baby me to make up for it."

"Okay." Mikey nodded, immediately steering you to the living room, pushing you to sit on the couch. "Wait."

Mikey felt ridiculous, but also comfortable. It was almost surreal, wandering through your home. He knew where everything was. The plants, the warm colors. It smelled like bread and something savory. Like always. More like home than the lair did at this point, Mikey mused as he pulled the medical gear you stashed from behind the bathroom cabinet. Freezing at the thought. The small bag spinning in his grasp. Tweezers over gauze over alcohol wipes over swabs.

Leaving had never occurred to him. Never.

Despite Leo having done it. Mikey had just never thought he could leave himself.

He closed the cabinet slowly, sorrow gripping him again as he caught his own reflection.

Splinter was dying. And Splinter was the only home he had known. The clashing ideas left Mikey just as confused and dizzy as he had been on the rooftop.

Gingerly he sat at your knees, watched you lean forward.

"Your phone." He explained shortly, too tired to tell the whole long story he initially had wanted to. "When you got a new-"

"A new plant." You tsked, leaning back. "Donnie, huh?"

Mikey nodded as he pulled out some gauze. "Said there was some kind of file share?"

He felt you freeze, eyes wide. "Shit." Waved off the concern. 

Mikey gingerly ripped over an alcohol wipe, knowing how much it would sting. "That was for Tony?"

"Genuinely don't remember." You braced yourself as Mikey cleaned your scratches. "Can't believe I got caught, so stupid."

"It happens to the best of us." Mikey's eyes trained on your face, the wounds getting more red and more swollen with his cleaning efforts.

Half hoping you'd ask. Mostly hoping you wouldn't.

"So." A deep inhale from you both as the topic was broached. "Dad?"

Shit. Mikey blinked. Leaned back. Looked at you. Away.

"Oh."

That made Mikey angry all over again, angry and sad. "'Oh'?" He snapped, glaring at you. "You don't even fucking know."

And you let him. As you had earlier, allowing him to feel what he needed, to get it out. And that made him feel worse, somehow. Like a petulant child.

"I just say 'dad' and you assume it's, what, something you can comprehend when you haven't even-" Mikey pressed his lips together, gave a quick jerk of his head before looking at you. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Your reassurance cut through him. "You've been a little… emotionally sheltered for so long, I think you struggle a bit to regulate things. Which is funny considering how quickly you pick up on other people's stuff." You blinked. "I'm mad you knew for so long. About me, I mean." You amended. "And I'm sorry I… I did that. To your piece." Eyes moved as though to motion. "Outside the cafe. I was just… really angry. And I regret it every day."

"Good." Mikey pressed a band-aid on, fell back to look at you. "That's punishment enough." Silence for a second as Mikey swallowed, collected himself. "Dad has cancer." The word wheezed out of him, weak and pathetic.

He watched you closely. Watched the realization dawn. The way you went limp, just a little.

"What?" Lips curled in a grin. Like you'd misheard. "I'm sorry, what?"

But Mikey straightened. Grabbed your hands in his. Looked you in the eyes. "Master Splinter has cancer."