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The Pain Game	By : hummerhouse Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 4701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.

Chapter List
- 1-The Pain Game
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39 Final
- 27
- 28
- 29
            Arriving at home dripping wet and covered in mud, Michelangelo wasn’t at all surprised to see that Leonardo had waited up for he and Raphael.
            He was astonished to see that Donatello was seated on the couch with Leo, the two of them ostensibly watching a movie together. Of course Leo wouldn’t be so obvious as to be standing at the door copping an attitude at the fact that they’d been out so late. They’d had Master Splinter’s permission after all.
            It was Don who spoke first. Looking back as the pair entered and seeing Mikey trod across the floor leaving muddy footprints, he said, “You’re mopping those up, Mikey. Tonight, not sometime tomorrow.”
            “You don’t mind if I rinse off first do you?” Mikey asked sarcastically. He had no intention of coming back downstairs after cleaning the mud off himself. Not unless Leo and Don had already turned in for the night.
            “I’ll take care of the floor.”
            Leo, Don, and even Mikey looked at Raph in surprise. “What?” Raph asked belligerently. “I’m the one who shoved him into the mud. You pay to play. First rule of sports.”
            He stomped off towards the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies and his three brothers stared at his receding shell.
            “O~kay. That’s not Raph. Who did you bring back with you?” Don asked.
            “Yeah, well . . . .” Mikey chuckled nervously. “I’m totally taking advantage of it before he changes his mind. ‘Night guys.”
            Speeding upstairs, Mikey dashed into the bathroom and locked the door. As he took his second shower of the night, Mikey tried to wrap his head around trying to figure out what could have prompted Raph’s offer to mop the floor.
            He knew his brother, knew that Raph could be thoughtful and caring, but he didn’t usually show those traits unless one of his brothers was injured or ill. If they were fit and able-bodied, Raph would not voluntarily step in to take over a chore.
            Maybe he was feeling guilty. On the rare occasions when Raph acknowledged he felt guilt over something he would perform an act of penitence. Saying he was doing the mopping to make up for shoving Mikey into the mud might go over with Leo and Don because it fit into that category. That explanation wouldn’t fly with Mikey though, because getting caked in mud had been his own idea.
            So either Raph was helping to cover Mikey so that their brothers didn’t see the welts left by the whip, or he was performing an act of kindness because he cared and didn’t know how else to show it.
            Having a brother who had so many strong emotions yet refused to articulate a single one of them was aggravating. Trying to read said brother’s mind was also exasperating.
            Another round beneath cold water had eased the welts left by the whip even more, something that Mikey was happy to see. If they could be out and open about their relationship, Mikey would wear those welts proudly. It bothered him that Raph could be so gratified at giving them to Mikey, yet turn around a second later and be paranoid that someone might see them.
            When he’d finished cleaning the grime off himself, Mikey rinsed the mud from his gear and left his things hanging from the curtain rod to dry. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Mikey slowly opened the bathroom door just enough to get a view of the corridor. After he was sure that no one was nearby, he grabbed his nunchucks and made a beeline for his room.
            Once inside, Mikey was careful to not only lock the door, but to also place a chair under the knob. He didn’t really think Leo would pick the lock to gain entry, but it wasn’t a chance Mikey was willing to take. Not when his skin was covered in marks that could have been placed there by no one other than Raph.
            Within the drawer of Mikey’s nightstand was a container of the special salve Don had made for them. Digging it out, Mikey sat on the edge of his bed and began to apply the creamy substance to his skin. He was happy for his flexibility because some of the places Raph had whipped were hard to reach, but Mikey managed it.
            When he began doctoring the welts on his inner thighs, Mikey found the bite mark Raph had made. The sensory overload from earlier had made him forget about it and Mikey examined it now to see how much work would be required to hide it from his brothers.
            Fortunately the skin wasn’t broken, but there was the makings of a nice double crescent present against the background of sea green. The spot Raph had chosen was near his groin, so unless Mikey lifted his leg, neither Leo nor Don would be able to see it.
            Mikey made a face as he dabbed salve onto the bite mark, not from any sensitivity, but at the concept of being a ninja who practiced high kicks daily. Bruises, welts, bites, and a whole slew of other markings were all natural mementos of he and Raph’s chosen nocturnal activity. As adept at Mikey was at hiding those signs, the odds weren’t in his favor and besides, he didn’t want to do that forever.
            With that thought came another. As far as he knew, forever in this instance was exactly one week long, per Donatello. The conversation Raph had with Don on the subject of the genius spilling the secret of their sneaking out together was something Mikey had meant to question Raph about. He’d gotten side tracked with trying to find out how Raph felt about him.
            After most of an evening together, Mikey still didn’t know the answer to either of those things. Raph wanted to control everything but Mikey really, really needed to know what was happening with Don. Whether or not Raph wanted to tell him what was going on, Mikey intended to tackle him about it the next day. He’d find a way to be alone with the hot head long enough for that.
            Having reached that decision, Mikey turned out the lights and sprawled out on his bed. The pressure of the mattress on his welts made them sting a little, but not so much that Mikey couldn’t fall asleep.
            Mikey went from cursing Donatello the night before to silently thanking him the next morning. A careful examination of his body behind the locked bathroom door showed him that Don’s salve had performed its magic and made all but a few of the welts on his skin invisible.
            The ones that still showed, along with the bite on his inner thigh, Mikey hid with an application of the green concealer. Satisfied with the job he’d done, Mikey geared up in his slightly damp padding and tied on a fresh mask before heading downstairs.
            Since he’d waited until the very last minute to get out and about, Mikey expected to be the last one downstairs. Therefore he was surprised to find none of his brothers in the kitchen or in the central part of the lair.
            Curious, he peeked into Don’s lab and then the infirmary, finding no one. Growing concerned, Mikey headed for the dojo, wondering if they’d decided to start practice early.
            He was only partway there when Master Splinter’s shoji slid open and Don and their father stepped out.
            “Hey, what’s going on?” Mikey asked, changing direction to join them. “Where are Leo and Raph?”
            “In the tunnels,” Don answered, looking worried. “You know how I monitor the dispatch frequencies for the police, fire, and public works departments? A call out to DEP early this morning woke me up. They were dispatching a crew to open valves on two seldom used drainage tunnels due to flooding on Canal Street.”
            Mikey’s eyes widened with understanding. “Tunnels near us?”
            “Yes.” Don glanced at Master Splinter who left them to go to the kitchen and then looked back at Mikey. “I immediately woke Leo to let him know because the sewer sliders needed to be lifted out of the water and secured to their docking stations. I told him that we should also set up the metal grill across the opening to that dead end tunnel where we store the sliders so that any city workers who wander that way won’t investigate the tunnel.”
            “Didn’t I say that I wish it’d stop raining?” Mikey asked rhetorically.
            “So do I,” Don said, rubbing his eyes. “The governor has already declared a state of emergency for the city. I told Leo we should check along those two tunnels that are about to be flooded to make sure there was no debris that might block the flow because not only might that flood our home, but it would bring a maintenance crew too close to us for comfort. Leo told me to stay here and continue monitoring the emergency responders and that you guys would take care of the tunnels.”
            “Nobody woke me,” Mikey said, frowning.
            “Raph told Leo not to,” Don explained. “He said the two of them could handle it and they should leave you here with me in case something else happened. I waited until Master Splinter had his tea before filling him in on current events.”
            A loud burst of static and then the squawk of voices made Mikey jump. Don had started moving at the first sound and Mikey followed him to the dining table where the radio his brother used to monitor everything going on in the city was currently located.
            Don fiddled with a couple of dials and then listened intently as a voice that was nearly unintelligible began to speak. They were answered by someone else who Mikey couldn’t understand because a lot of what they said was in some sort of code.
            “I’m guessing that made sense to you,” Mikey said.
            “It did,” Don replied. “I’m glad they left you with me. We’ve got to board up the outside of the garage door quick. Another city crew is on its way to the area because of a downed power line. I’ve done a good job of disguising where I’ve tapped into the electrical grid, but I don’t want them to get curious about one door that looks like it’s being used in an area where everything else is boarded up.”
            “I will listen to the radio Donatello,” Master Splinter said. “I am preparing a meal for the four of you and will tell you if I hear anything.”
            “Do you understand them Master Splinter?” Mikey asked.
            “Perfectly my son,” Master Splinter said. “I learned how to speak ‘city’ back when I was the one solely responsible for keeping us hidden.”
            “Come on, Mikey. Everything we need’s in the garage,” Don said, already on his way to the elevator.
            In the garage the pair split up; Don to gather tools and Mikey to the corner where they kept a pile of wooden boards. He picked out the ones that were the correct length, balancing the stack on one broad shoulder as he jogged over to join Don at the door.
            They exited the garage through the smaller entryway and proceeded to nail boards across the garage door. Keeping their ears open for the sounds of approaching maintenance trucks, Don and Mikey worked quickly, cold rain pelting their shells as they labored. Once they had the door barricaded, they used two of the boards to form an ‘X’ across the small entryway, leaving just enough space underneath to crawl through. On the way in Don grabbed the newspaper that they had delivered every morning to the garage’s address.
            Back inside, they locked both doors before giving themselves a brisk rubdown with some dry towels. Afterwards Don attached additional padlocks to keep the doors closed. The entire time they had been working, Mikey had noticed that the expression on his genius brother’s face was growing more and more worried.
            Finally unable to take it anymore, Mikey asked, “Dude, what’s wrong? Your mind is like a million miles away.”
            Don grimaced, standing back to survey their work before glancing over at Mikey. “I’m concerned about Leatherhead. I tried to reach him on his shell cell this morning to warn him about what’s going on, but he didn’t answer. He doesn’t have a way to monitor emergency services, doesn’t watch TV very often, and doesn’t listen to his radio when he’s concentrating on something. LH may not know about the extra flooding or that the tunnels are going to be full of city workers.”
            Mikey felt a touch of guilt; he hadn’t thought of Leatherhead at all that morning until Don said something about him. LH’s assurances about his home being safe from flooding had pushed all worry over the croc right out of Mikey’s head.
            “LH said the station has great drainage, so he’s not being flooded,” Mikey said. An idea struck him. “You should totally go and check on Leatherhead. It would blow if he wandered into the tunnels and got spotted by somebody. Master Splinter is monitoring the radio and can tell me if they say something important.”
            Don might not be aware of LH’s infatuation with him, but that didn’t mean Mikey couldn’t maneuver things so that LH got to spend time with the genius.
            “I don’t know, Mikey. There’s so many . . . .” Don began.
            “He’s all alone bro’,” Mikey said, interrupting him. “He’s family. I’d go but if he didn’t answer his cell ‘cause something’s broken, I can’t help fix it. If he’s in real trouble, call me and I’ll bring the cavalry.”
            Don’s brow cleared. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll grab my duffel and head right over there. Let the others know?”
            “Sure thing. Go on, I’ll put the tools away,” Mikey told him.
            As Mikey returned the tools and unused nails to the shelves where they belonged he thought to himself, “One down, one to go.”
            Getting Don to visit Leatherhead was good for at least a half day’s absence. With any luck, Don would get sidetracked by some project over there and be gone even longer. It was one step closer to the private conversation Mikey wanted to have with Raph, he just needed to figure out what to do about Leo.
            Long range planning was Leo’s forte, Mikey was better at thinking on his feet. He’d wait for his brothers to return before deciding on a course of action.
            When Mikey entered the lair he could tell from the smell emanating from the kitchen that his father had made rice balls for breakfast. Since they had part of a leftover turkey in the refrigerator, Mikey guessed that it had gone into the rice balls and his stomach started to rumble in anticipation.
            The radio was still mumbling things and Mikey guessed that it must have been routine stuff because there was no sound of urgency in any of it. Mikey found Master Splinter still hard at work in the kitchen, some completed rice balls resting on trays in the center of the table. Going to the sink, Mikey washed his hands, saving his father the need to remind him.
            “Donatello told me of your suggestion that he look in on Leatherhead,” Master Splinter said without taking his eyes off his work. “I requested that he take some of the onigiri with him; enough for himself and Leatherhead as well.”
            “Oh, that’s why you’re still hard at it,” Mikey said, seeing the rice cooking on the stovetop.
            Master Splinter nodded, his agile hands forming the balls from already cooled rice. “Please eat, Michelangelo. I’ve used the leftover turkey, as well as tuna and the pickled plum that Raphael likes so well.”
            Mikey didn’t have to be told twice. Getting a plate from the cupboard and chopsticks from the utensil drawer, Mikey sat at the kitchen table and helped himself to the succulent cone shaped balls of rice. With an expression of pure bliss he chewed his first bite, eyes closed as he savored the taste of turkey hidden inside the ball.
            When the first one was down, Mikey hopped up to pour himself a cup of tea from the pot steaming atop the stove. Normally he enjoyed a glass of orange juice in the morning, but that taste clashed with rice balls. Seated again, he said, “Perfection as always, Master Splinter. No one makes these as good as you do.”
            “Thank you my son,” Master Splinter replied, smiling at the young turtle. He started to say something else but paused, tilting his head at the spurt of sound coming from the radio.
            “Anything?” Mikey asked after a moment.
            Master Splinter shook his head. “Street closures. It has rained too much. The television meteorologist this morning refused to agree to call an end to the wet weather. It is vexing.”
            Mikey chuckled. “Kinda don’t think it works that way,” he said, knowing full well that Master Splinter was being amusing. “If it did, I’d pay him a midnight visit and suggest he change his mind. I’m tired of everything being so wet.”
            “Mother Nature, as they say, is fond of doing as she likes,” Master Splinter responded philosophically. He placed another completed tray of onigiri on the table and retrieved an empty one.
            Continuing to eat, Mikey watched his father remove the pot of rice from the heat before returning to his preparations. The aged rat wielded a cutting knife with skill, slicing turkey into small pieces with astounding speed.
            “Was your evening with Raphael a successful one?” Master Splinter asked suddenly.
            Startled, Mikey swallowed too quickly and had to sip tea to keep from choking. After a moment he said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
            Master Splinter turned and gave him a piercing stare. “Were you able to resolve anything or did you simply ‘play’?”
            Mikey sat there, dumbly gazing at his father, wondering exactly what Master Splinter considered to be ‘play’. He felt himself flushing at the notion of his dad knowing that he was engaged in sexual relations with Raph, his own brother. He also mentally kicked himself for thinking it was such a grand idea to send Don off to Leatherhead’s, leaving Mikey alone with Master Splinter.
            Finally deciding to be as honest as he could without actually admitting to what they did together, Mikey said, “I brought up some of the stuff that’s been bothering me. You know Raph, he’d rather cover his real feelings with aggression instead of explaining them with words, but I kinda know where he’s coming from.”
            “I gather that means your issues were not resolved,” Master Splinter said, looking as if he expected that.
            Mikey flipped his hands over on the table, indicating his frustration. “It’s not so easy Father,” he admitted. “Raph has these walls that he’s built up and getting through them takes time. We haven’t had a lot of that since figuring out we kind of want to be together. Besides, Raph freaks out at the mere mention of anyone in the family learning about us, especially Leo. He doesn’t even know you and I talk about this stuff.”
            “Have you attempted to tell him of our discussions?” Master Splinter asked, taking a seat across from Mikey.
            “He asked about what I’ve been saying to you after you sent us off together. Raph looked like he was about to panic so I just told him what you said about wanting us to be happy. He said he’s not interested in being happy.” Mikey looked at his father with a pained expression. “I think he’s punishing himself for having certain, um, desires. Like he doesn’t think he deserves to be happy so he refuses to make the effort to get to that point.”
            A look of understanding crossed Master Splinter’s face. “Raphael will not be whole until he learns that he is not a monster who cannot control himself. He must learn that he can trust himself and that his brothers trust him as well, on all levels.”
            “I’m trying to show him that,” Mikey said. “I have to go slow ‘cause he’s so jittery.”
            “He fears what I might think of him, does he not?” Master Splinter asked, his voice tinged with compassion. “Raphael has always been extremely competitive with Leonardo and much of that is because he believes that being the better fighter is the way to shine in my eyes. It is difficult for him to understand that in his own unique way he does shine. Each of you has strengths that make me immeasurably proud.”
            “Never did know why Raph thinks he has to be the best ninja,” Mikey said. “He rules a battle, Sensei. I always know I can count on him to watch my shell in a fight. I always figured he just resented having to take orders.”
            “Raphael’s personality is not suited to leadership at this time in his life, though he is very capable in his own right,” Master Splinter said. “To lead, one must have the ability to be coldly calculating, to understand the sacrifices one might possibly be forced to make, and then to have the willingness to make them. A good leader must sometimes ask his subordinate to perform a dangerous act and though his first inclination might be to place himself in harm’s way, he knows that an army cannot march without its leader. Leonardo is able to do this but Raphael is not.”
            “Raph’s more of a blunt instrument, right Father?” Mikey asked.
            “Indeed. He is an integral part of Leonardo’s arsenal, a necessary component of a good team and Leonardo must have Raphael by his side. It pains me to see them so divided. I am hoping that by allowing you and Raphael to be together he will begin to have a healthier view of himself. That may also show Leonardo that he is not Raphael’s keeper nor does he have to be,” Master Splinter said.
            Mikey sat silent for a moment, examining what he wanted to ask next and how best to phrase it. Master Splinter did not press him, merely waiting until his son chose to speak.
            “Unless we did something like, truly evil, you couldn’t ever be disgusted with us, could you Master Splinter?” Mikey finally asked.
            “No, Michelangelo, I could not,” Master Splinter answered. “Is this what your brother fears most?”
            “Yeah,” Mikey said in a low voice.
            “Is it the reason you broached the subject of mating preferences to me over a week ago?” Master Splinter asked shrewdly. “Were you attempting to learn of my thoughts on the subject, or were you laying the groundwork for my acceptance?”
            “Both I guess,” Mikey conceded. “Should have known I wouldn’t fool you.”
            “You should not have felt it necessary to try,” Master Splinter said. Holding his hand up when Mikey started to speak, he added, “I understand why you took this route my son. Raphael is unwilling to share his secret so you have been forced to tread lightly. You want to be able to announce to him that I accept your choice to be together and that I do not hold him in low regard for his decision.”
            “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Mikey said, thinking now would be a good time to tell Master Splinter everything.
            He didn’t get the chance. The sound of Leo and Raph’s voices suddenly echoed through the lair, indicating their return. Master Splinter reached across the table to pat the back of Mikey’s hand before rising and returning to the kitchen counter to continue preparing breakfast.
            “Where is everybody?” Raph called out.
            “Kitchen!” Mikey shouted back, turning his attention to his plate. He was chewing on a rice ball when Leo and Raph entered the kitchen.
            “Donny?” Leo asked after glancing around.
            The smell of sewer and of musty water hit his nostrils and Mikey made a face. “You guys need to take showers right now. I can’t even taste my food.”
            “Ain’t no point in that if we have to go back out again,” Raph said. “Where’s Donny?”
            “Your brother could not reach Leatherhead on his shell cell, so he left to check on him,” Master Splinter said. “I must agree with Michelangelo, please take a shower and then come tell us what you found in the tunnels.”
            “Rock, paper, scissors for who goes first?” Raph asked Leo.
            “Go ahead,” Leo said, “I want to call Don and see if everything’s okay.”
            With a nod, Raph jogged off towards the stairs and Leo stepped out of the kitchen, taking his funk with him. Once they were gone, Mikey finished his breakfast and then began washing the dishes.
            Raph didn’t take long, coming back squeaky clean and wearing fresh gear. After Leo peeked in to tell everyone that Don was at Leatherhead’s and might be there for a while, he went up to the bathroom.
            “Want some tea?” Mikey asked when Raph sat down to eat.
            “Rather have coffee if Don left any,” Raph said around a mouthful of food.
            Mikey glanced at the coffeepot. “He did. It’s gonna be strong.”
            “That’s what I want,” Raph told him.
            “’Kay, sit tight.” Mikey grabbed a cup and poured out some coffee, taking it to Raph.
            “Thanks.”   Raph accepted the cup and spooned some sugar into it before taking a sip. “Perfect,” he said with a sigh. “Damn, those wet tunnels were cold as a witch’s . . . .”
            “Language,” Master Splinter warned.
            “. . . shell,” Raph finished with a grin. “Didn’t take long to fix up the sleds, but we found all kinds of cra . . . stuff blocking one of the tunnels. We barely got it cleared before a wall of nasty water barreled right into us. Would not want that backing up into our home.”
            Mikey pointed at a tray of rice balls. “Those are the pickled plum.”
            “All right!” Raph exclaimed enthusiastically, helping himself to several of them. “It don’t get much better than this.”
            It took a lot of self-control not to stare openly at his brother as Raph ate, each flash of his teeth reminding Mikey of the bruise on his inner thigh. Fortunately his father was finishing the final batch of rice balls, so Mikey turned his attention back to the clean-up.
            Mikey had his shell to the door as he wiped down the stovetop and didn’t know that Leo had returned until his brother was right next to him. Leo’s mastery of the silent approach was one of the things that always worried Mikey; he never knew when Leo was going to catch him trying to pull off a prank, or when they were younger, hiding a comic inside the pages of a text book he was supposed to be studying.
            Now those sneaky ninja moves were cause for another concern. Trying to keep one particular secret from a brother who could practically appear out of nowhere was a pretty big challenge.
            “Is there any tea left or should I brew some more?” Leo asked.
            “There’s plenty,” Mikey said. “I kept it warm for you.”
            “You’re a lifesaver,” Leo murmured, holding his cup out when Mikey offered to pour.
            “Anytime bro’,” Mikey said.
            When Leo sat down he asked, “Did Don eat anything before he left?”
            “He took it with him,” Mikey answered. “Took something for LH too. I always wonder if he has enough to eat.”
            “I’m sure he does,” Leo said, knowing Mikey meant Leatherhead and not their brother. “Don would have raided the pantry by now if LH looked to be hungry.”
            “Don wouldn’t ever let anything bad happen to Leatherhead, would he? ‘Cause he cares about the big guy,” Mikey said, pouring another cup of tea for their father, who took his with him as he left the room.
A moment later the sounds from the radio faded as Master Splinter carried it into the living area so he could listen to it and the television news at the same time.
            “We all care about Leatherhead,” Leo said.
            “He’s best buds with Donny, so it stands to reason the genius would notice if anything was wrong before the rest of us did,” Raph said. “Shit, I meant to ask Don if he got the paper.”
            Mikey spotted it on the counter where Don had tossed it, still covered in the protective plastic wrap. He picked it up, stripped the wrap off, and handed it to his brother.
            “Don and me had to go up to the garage after you guys left,” Mikey said. “There’s a downed power line in the area and he wanted to nail boards across the garage door so that none of the city workers could tell the place was being used.”
            “Nice to know ya’ didn’t escape the work this time,” Raph said with a smirk, opening the paper.
            “I got wet too,” Mikey said dramatically. “Soaked to the skin by a cold, cold rain as I worked until blisters formed on my poor fingers.”
            Leo was staring at him and Mikey grinned, happy for an appreciative audience. Until he saw that Leo was focused on his thighs.
            “Did you run into something?” Leo asked.
            Mikey glanced down, realizing that he’d wiped off the concealer when he’d dried himself in the garage. The whip had cut a little deeper in a few places and the welts still showed.
            Keeping his legs together so that Leo wouldn’t see the bite mark too, Mikey said, “Oh those. Yep, slipped on the wet pavement and landed on some loose boards. Just another example of how I suffer for this family.”
            “Clumsy shit,” Raph murmured from behind his newspaper.
            “Leonardo,” Master Splinter said from the doorway, gaining their attention. “When you have finished your breakfast, could you please join me? We should discuss plans to deal with this continuing downpour.”
            “Of course Sensei,” Leo replied.
            Mikey poured the remainder of the coffee into Raph’s cup so that he could turn the coffeemaker off and clean the pot. A few minutes later Leo excused himself and left for his powwow with Master Splinter.
            Waiting through a slow count of twenty, Mikey wandered over to the doorway and looked out. He saw Leo sitting on the couch in a spot nearest to Master Splinter’s chair as they watched the weather coverage and conversed in low tones.
            Darting back to the table, Mikey slid into a chair and leaned forward, gaining Raph’s attention. Peering at his brother over the top of the paper, Raph asked, “What?”
            “I forgot to ask you what happened when you talked to Don about his ultimatum,” Mikey said swiftly, keeping his voice down. “Before you say I don’t need to know, yes I do. I won’t know how to act around Don if I don’t know what the two of you said.”
            An exasperated look formed on Raph’s face but he set the paper down rather than ignoring the question, which Mikey had half expected him to do. “I asked him if something was bothering him ‘cause I didn’t want to say you’d told me about the cameras. He said the same thing to me that he did to ya’, about how and why he’d put the new cameras up. When he was done I told him to stay the hell out of our private business; that it wasn’t none of his affair what the two of us want to do.”
            “That wasn’t the end of it though, was it?” Mikey asked. “Don doesn’t quit that easy.”
            Raph scowled. “Nope, he sure don’t. He said it was his business if we got hurt so I told him we weren’t gonna get hurt. I said that having ya’ around helped me keep my head on straight and avoid the heavy duty brawls in favor of the little stuff. Told him I wasn’t fool enough to take chances on getting ya’ hurt and he ought to give me a little credit for some common sense.”
            “How’d that go over?” Mikey watched his brother avidly, hoping he’d managed to remove an obstacle in their path.
            With a snort, Raph asked, “How do ya’ think? He didn’t back down but he did say he’d advance his deadline to two weeks. When I threatened to rearrange his face he calmly asked me how I thought I’d do that if I was paralyzed by some drug that’s forty-seven letters long and only Donny can pronounce.”
            As much as Mikey hated to hear the news, he couldn’t help but grin. “You remember that time when we were eight and Leo was trying to get Don’s head out of a book so he’d be on time for practice?”
            “Sure, that was back when Master Splinter used to punish all of us if one of us was late,” Raph said. “Teaching us about teamwork.”
            “Don was ignoring him so Leo yanked the book out of his hand and one of the pages got torn,” Mikey continued, seeing the beginnings of a smile etch Raph’s lips. “Leo apologized all over the place but we could tell from Don’s expression that he was pissed.”
            Raph began to laugh. “I remember that the next day Leo somehow wound up covered in the itching powder that Don had made from scratch.”
            By then the memory had Mikey laughing too. “Scratch being the operative word. I didn’t think Master Splinter was ever going to get Leo out of the bathtub.”
            After a moment the laughter dwindled and a melancholy look settled onto Raph’s face. “We used to have good times, didn’t we?”
            Mikey wasn’t sure where the sadness had suddenly come from, but he was quick to say, “We still have good times.”
            “Not like we did as kids,” Raph insisted. “Now things are just too fucking complicated.”
            “They don’t have to be,” Mikey said. “Anything can be fixed, Raph. We’re the ones in charge of our own futures.”
            Raph stood up abruptly, startling Mikey. “Reality check little brother. No we ain’t, never have been. Ya’ want to keep thinking that way, go ahead, but leave me the hell out of it. If any of your fanciful delusions involve me, don’t be spreading them around to anybody else.”
            He snatched up his newspaper and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving behind a very stunned Michelangelo.
TBC…………….
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The Pain Game