Sludge made its way through his mouth. The suffocating stench of the liquid caused him to gag. The levels kept getting higher and his kicking legs couldn’t keep him afloat anymore, they were tired of fighting against the black ocean. He fought until the ever rising waters saturated his nose and his mouth. He fought while it slowly killed him with malicious intent.
Then he gave up.
Awakening with a startle, Michelangelo gasped for air. He tried to breathe and started to violently cough. The feeling that he was still underwater wouldn't leave him as he fought to untangle himself from his duvet.
Michelangelo looked around his pitch black room. Had his nightmare followed him to the lair? His room was never in the dark. He always had a light on at night for this exact purpose. It brought him the playful mockery of Raphael and the calm explanations from Donatello that “a small light can’t really make a difference, Mikey”. But Michelangelo had been plagued with nightmares since they had first encountered the Shredder. Time passed, their lives got even crazier and the nightmares were still here so the others quietly got off his back about the light. They understood.
Michelangelo fumbled around, nearly knocking over his bedside lamp. He urgently flipped the switch a dozen times but the lamp wouldn’t turn on. Michelangelo followed the cable with his hands but the lamp was correctly plugged.
He shot to his feet and launched himself in the direction of his bedroom door. He tried to turn on the overhead lightbulb to no avail. He began to feel around for his door handle. It had to be there somewhere, there should be a door there. Being in the dark warped his sense of space. He felt like the wall had swallowed his door, leaving him with a too smooth surface. He couldn’t even hear the sound of his fingers over the plaster, his own shallow breaths and rapid heartbeat drowning every other sound.
He had to get out of his room. There was something watching him from the shadows. He could feel them touching him, he could hear little voices in his head, mocking him.
After an excruciating time, he smacked his hand into the door handle. He all but ripped open his door trying to get to the hallway. It was dark outside too, like nothing existed anymore. He wasn’t safe anywhere. In his panic, he nearly scrambled to the floor but he ignored the pain racing through his shaky hands as he caught himself on the hard ground. He didn’t think before heading to what he hoped was the other side of the hallway. He let his legs take him down the long empty cave.
He found the door handle he was looking for easier than before. His feet knew the number of steps, even as he was choked by dread. He opened the door to Leonardo’s room as slowly as he could manage to not startle his brother and called his name weakly. Once, then twice. He felt tears welling in his eyes as the emptiness swallowed his words. His legs were glued to their spot at the entrance of the room. How far away was his brother? Was Michelangelo even there, was he still dying in the ocean? He could feel the cold water bleed from behind him, lapping at his feet insistently.
Then there were the ruffles of sheets.
"... Mikey?" A muffled voice came from the other side of the room.
Relief flooded Michelangelo’s body, allowing his feet to fight their way out of the dark sludge and move towards the sound of his brother’s voice.
Michelangelo quickly got to Leonardo's bed and knelt in front of it with a big sob. His head fell on top of the bed, his hands gripped the sheets with force. He heard Leonardo moving and the sound of a switch being flipped a few times, unsuccessfully.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Leonardo asked softly. His voice was no longer laced with sleep but alert and focused on his little brother.
"I was scared." Michelangelo’s voice cracked. He couldn’t find the strength to elaborate but Leonardo knew enough to simply move to a sitting position, scoot over to the side and open his arms.
“Come here.”
Michelangelo scurried to get on the bed as Leonardo shielded them both with his warm duvet. Michelangelo immediately felt a strong arm draping itself around his body. He heard Leonardo move around to grab something from the other side of his bed with his free hand. His task was rendered more difficult as Michelangelo wouldn’t let go, afraid Leonardo would slip away and disappear. But Leonardo didn’t complain and instead kept a hand on his baby brother the entire time.
Michelangelo mapped Leonardo’s body with his trembling hands, tracing the edges of his plastron with his fingertips, listening to the rasping sound it made.
"Here. Hold this for me, Mikey." Leonardo whispered as he held a cold metallic object against Michelangelo's hands.
Michelangelo still wouldn’t let go. His hands shook as he fought against the tears in his eyes and the tight knot in his throat.
“Shhh, I’ve got you. It’s okay.” The eldest took both of Michelangelo's hands in his, gently stroking them as Michelangelo hesitantly released Leonardo from his grip. He took both of his little brother’s hands in his and guided the metallic object into them.
The warmth emanating from Leonardo’s skin helped Michelangelo take a proper grip on it. He ran his fingers across the smooth metallic surface, noting the weight of what he imagined to be a flat cylinder of sorts.
“You’re doing so well.” Leonardo said as he let go of one of Michelangelo’s hands.
There was a metallic clicking sound on Leonardo’s side, loud in the dark room. A few sparks flew in front of Michelangelo's face, immediately capturing his attention. Then a light flickered in front of his face, the warm glow coming from what he could now identify as a lighter in his brother’s hand. The flame danced left and right as if it had a spirit of its own, trying to comfort him. Michelangelo couldn't look away as it met the tip of what he now knew to be a candlestick in his hands. Its light reflected onto the base of the metallic candle holder he was clinging to.
Michelangelo hadn’t been breathing as the flame ultimately steadied itself, bright and strong, while Leonardo flipped the lid of the lighter close. He managed to take a quick inhale as he whipped his head to look at his brother for the first time tonight.
He couldn't help the shaky laugh that escaped his throat, nor the big glob of tears that followed, as he finally got to look at his big brother. Leonardo’s face was made vibrant and alive by the warm caress of the candlelight. His blue eyes shone brighter than ever.
Silent tears turned into full on sobs as Michelangelo’s eyes fell on all the distinct marks that made his brother real. The scars he got as a kid, the little wrinkles around his eyes from when he smiled that soft smile of his. It all caused waves of relief to wash over the young turtle.
He launched himself into his brother’s arms. Luckily Leonardo was prepared as he skillfully snatched the candle Michelangelo had forgotten about and placed it down on the nightstand. He then returned Michelangelo’s bear hug with his own, whispering sweet nothings into his ears.
“You’re safe, Mikey. I’m here for you.” Leonardo said as he gently kissed his brother’s forehead.
The simple declaration was said so calmly but with such determination, it caused Michelangelo’s sobs to get louder. He held on to Leonardo as if he was his lifeline. At last, the tide had receded, all the dark water was gone and the shadows couldn’t touch him anymore. Michelangelo took his first big breath of the night. The tears started to stop on their own after a while, leaving him exhausted.
When he was calm enough, Leonardo cradled Michelangelo’s head in his hands. His eyes were filled with love and unwavering confidence. They caught Michelangelo’s very soul, more deeply than the light from the candle ever could. How could he have been so entranced by that feeble light when Leonardo had been right there?
“As long as I’m here, nothing will ever hurt you. Do you hear me?”
Michelangelo felt the words etch themselves into his bones. Of course nothing would happen to him with Leonardo here. The fierceness in Leonardo’s eyes promised fire and death to whomever would cause him harm. That should have scared him a little but at that moment he would have let the whole world burn to ashes if Leonardo had proposed.
Michelangelo felt the rest of his tension melt away as he nodded and he let himself be moved to lie down on the bed, safe in his brother’s embrace. Leonardo had one arm wrapped around Michelangelo’s waist, tracing random shapes on his shell. With the other, he guided Michelangelo’s head to rest on his chest as he whispered comforting words in his ear. Michelangelo gladly pressed the side of his head on his brother’s chest, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring him that he was alive. The repetitive noise was comforting. His thoughts were no longer whirling and he felt a burgeoning warmth seeping from Leonardo’s arms and into his soul.
At last, Michelangelo closed his puffy eyes. He immersed himself in this new found feeling and finally slipped back into sleep, protected from the world. Tonight at least, nothing could get to him.
