Miguel's Story (bits and pieces, not in chronological order)

The First Time Miguel Trusts Raph

When he comes to, he's more comfortable than he thinks he's ever been in his entire life. Eyelids still closed, he takes a slow breath in, smelling something newer but familiar... cologne? No, lotion? It's natural, warm, inviting... the scent of a person he knows. There's a blanket as soft as fur wrapped around him, but he's also nestled in something firm. Slowly, he opens his eyes, blinking away the last bleariness of sleep.

Firm... The firm barrier around him are arms and a chest—massive ones. Inside the chest is a strong heart rhythmically beating, sending small pulses against Miguel's ear. His eyes snap fully open. Raph.

His natural instinct to shrink or run must make him tense enough for the oldest brother to notice, and immediately there are fingers stroking featherlight against Miguel's cheek and a low voice making comforting shushing sounds.

"Shhh, shhh, yer okay," Raph's face is visible, looming over him. For the first time in months, though, Miguel doesn't think "loom" is the right word, at least not in the terrifying sense he'd originally used for the guy. Merely inches away from his face, the first thing Miguel notices—and which surprises him—is the softness in Raph's expression. There's something so tender in the way Raph looks down at him that makes the youngest decide he can allow himself to be held a little longer. When Raph speaks, his voice is quiet and careful. "Ya sleep okay, honey?"

His tone and pet name melt Miguel's tense muscles. "Yeah, really good" he mumbles, starting to feel sleepy again. In fact, he's too sleepy to flinch when Raph leans down and presses his lips to his forehead, holding them there for a moment. Miguel lets his eyes fall shut again.

Slowly, Raph pulls away. "Good, I think yer fever's gone. Ya recovered pretty fast, big man. I'm glad."

"Where's Mikey?"

"Gettin' lunch ready. He wanted to let ya rest and make ya a 'special sandwich', whatever that means," he gets a small grin of amusement.

"Lunch? Was I really out that long?" He sinks, furrows his brow. "Were you stuck with me that whole time?"

"Stuck? Naw. I wanted to hold ya till ya woke up."

Moaning, Miguel covers his face with the blanket. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, hey," Raph rocks him a little, his voice brimming with fondness. "No need to apologize, Miggy. I chose to hold ya in the first place. I'd hold ya for days if it means ya can get some sleep."

Oh. That statement makes Miguel's chest heave and his eyes sting with tears, but he isn't sure why. He doesn't want to consider the reason, doesn't want to cry harder. Raph must notice, because he pulls Miguel ever closer to him.

"Yer not a burden to take of, Miguel," his voice is so soft and gentle. So genuine and kind. "Yer not a burden at all."

Miguel's lip trembles, and he hides under the blanket, taking quivering breaths to stop the tears from flowing. He knows Raph can hear the tremble in his breathing, can feel the tremble in his limbs. But this time he doesn't jump up and run away. Instead, he presses into Raph and distracts himself with the steady beating of Raph's thunderous heart. Strong hands rub against his limbs soothingly from outside the blanket.

After a moment, when he gathers himself enough, he peeks out, over the blanket, up into warm eyes. "Can we go eat now?"

Raph beams and gives Miguel another kiss on the head. "Sure thing, Miggy."

He lets the youngest shimmy out of his lap, standing but wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. Raph stands up as slowly and carefully as he can, afraid his height will scare Miggy again. As they make their way to the kitchen, Miguel acts on an impulse and holds onto Raph's arm, relaxing when the oldest gives his hand a reassuring squeeze and rumbles affectionately. Maybe Raph isn't so scary after all.