Chapter Text
Donnie would like to say the ride home was calm. Pleasant even. Generally, once they’d conquered an enemy, the resulting adrenaline crash combined with a sense of achievement was enough to keep the atmosphere optimistic. Given the closest event they even had to compare this too was when they rescued Angel’s brother and fought that alien creature, this should have been a new accomplishment. Especially for Mikey. This victory really belonged to him.
Except it didn’t feel like a victory. Especially not for Mikey.
Leo was driving because he was the only one of them that seemed to mainly have his senses together. Even his were hanging on by a thread though.
Raph was sitting on the floor in the back of the battle shell, Mikey cradled in his arms like a baby. Mikey wasn’t even protesting it, nor making any jokes about their biggest brother’s “maternal side.”
In fact, all Mikey was doing at all was pulling in air through his mouth, emitting a horrible whistling, strangling sound when he exhaled. Even though Donnie knew it was because Mikey’s sinuses were completely clogged and his poor throat was coughed raw, it didn’t make it any easier to hear.
Their poor little brother…
They’d really only cleaned off a minuscule amount of the blood and black muck. Mikey had tried, slapped himself more than gotten anything clean he was so disoriented and Leo had taken over, clearing the skin around the temples.
Enough to allow Donnie to get a good temperature reading before they headed for home.
Almost 90 degrees. For mutant turtles who normally ran between 83 and 85 (they were really more mesothermic in than cold blooded but over the years, that magic range had proved extremely consistent)that number terrified Donnie.
He hoped his instruments were wrong.
He hoped it was residual heat from the fire.
He hoped it was the after effects of adrenaline.
But hoping didn’t change facts.
“How is he, Raph?” Donnie drenched another cloth, folded it over a few times and tucked it between Mikey’s thigh and groin.
No jokes, no teasing. Just the strained breathing.
Raph gave his immediate younger brother a pained look, gently adjusting Mikey in his arms. The youngest of them made a low sound, almost a moan and leaned into his brother’s chest.
“Can’t tell if he’s asleep or passed out,” came the gruff response. “He ain’t poked fun at me once.”
“I know. He’s too quiet. He was sick before all this. I can’t imagine what all this fighting did to him. Not to mention whatever…all this,” he gingerly touched the thick, black ooze coating his brother’s body, “stuff is.”
“It came from that hell house, all we need to know to know we need to get it off.” Raph gently touched Mikey’s face. “Ya hear me, Mikey? We’re gonna get you home, get you cleaned up and you’re gonna be fine.”
A half whine that time and those baby blues opened. Glassy, glazed, exhausted. “Sleep…wanna sleep, Raphie…”
“You’ll get to sleep all you want,” Donnie forced a smile but his eyes met Raph’s with worry. If there was one thing about their little brother, it was his endless energy. If he wanted to sleep, that didn’t bode well.
Leo sped up.
OOO
Mikey was half aware. Well, somewhat. He knew they were back home, he knew his brothers were safe and he knew it felt like every drop of energy had been drained from his body.
All he wanted to do was sleep. He could picture his bed, cozy and soft. Mr. Panda was probably tucked into the closet but he bet one of his brothers could find him. Klunk would be his napping pal…
Something pulled at his waist, slipping his nunchucks off while another worked on his wristbands. And it wasn’t him doing it.
“Hey…” if he was trying to protest, he sounded miserable, even Mikey had to admit that to himself. He was about as ferocious as a toy poodle right now.
“Sorry, Mikey, we need to get you cleaned up. I know dried blood feels lovely .”
Leo’s voice. Blinking a few times, Mikey’s vision cleared and he recognized their large bathroom. He was propped against the wall and his missing gear was settled in a pile.
Leo unfastened the belt around his brother’s waist, pulled it loose just as Donnie finished with the knee pads. After they’d prompted their little brother three times to do it himself with no response, the brothers did it for him.
Leo gathered the pile of gear (including Mikey’s weapons) and stood. “I’ll handle this. You two got this?”
Raph called from nearby, “We got it, Leo. Water’s ready, Donnie. Let’s do this.”
“Water?” Mikey parroted. He sat up (or at least he thought he did) but the room began to whirl again so he slumped back down. Right. Moving bad.
“Yeah, water.” Raph approached and pulled his brother up, keeping one arm tight around his chest, taking on the majority of the weight. He hated how much his brother was leaning on him. Not because he minded but because none of his family should ever be that frail.
The younger turtle’s knees shook. Raph tightened his grip, stood a bit straighter and was ready to just scoop his brother up like a doll if he had to, “You’re covered in blood, gunk and who knows what the shell else, Mikey. You need a bath.”
“Don-nie.” The whine was almost a relief to hear. “You said I could sleep.”
The purple banded turtle slipped in step with Raph, who was all but carrying their brother. Mikey’s feet would jostle but it couldn’t exactly be called walking. “And you can, Mikey. But we need to get you clean first.”
“Tired.” Oddly enough, the whining didn’t bother the two older turtles like it normally would. The fact their brother was willing to just…sleep like this, no clean up, no quips, no nothing, was setting off alarm bells.
“Who knows what this stuff is, Mikey.” Raph poked lightly at the black coating. It had a texture like rubber but cracked like dried blood. “After that demon bastard, I don’t want any trace of him on you.”
The biggest turtle winced, internally, at how much he sounded like Leo—minus the cursing. But it was true! He wanted not even a resemblance of that…thing anywhere near his littlest brother.
“Sleep, Raphie. Wanna sleep.”
God, he sounded…so drained. So defeated. So…not Mikey!
They could overpower him. Shell, Raph could overpower him on a normal day. This wouldn’t even be breaking a sweat. But the muscular turtle didn’t want to do that to his brother. Not after everything Mikey had been through.
Not unless he had to.
Luckily, Donnie cut in, “What if Klunk got sick off some of this stuff, Mikey? You know he’s gonna be right by your side. Let’s get you cleaned up so Klunk’s okay, alright?”
Might have been an odd thing to reference but apparently even in Mikey’s fever-wracked brain, his love for his cat reigned supreme. In resignation, he slumped. “‘Kay. Bath, then sleep?”
“Then sleep.” Donnie affirmed.
“I…I can do it.” A bit of the teenage pride reared up, “I can…”
“You can’t even walk right now,” Raph lifted his brother over the lip of the tub, gently depositing him in the cool water. They hadn’t entirely filled it but it was enough to lounge in.
Donnie hoped it might lower that fever.
Raph prayed it did and he didn’t pray very much.
“Can take my own bath.” Mikey gave a low sigh as the cold water flowed over his skin. “Shell, feels goooood.” He closed his eyes and laid back, resting his neck on the edge. Staying here might not be so bad…the fire rushing through his skin was quenched just a bit.
Yeah, staying here sounded amazing.
“I bet it does.” Donnie took a cloth, rubbing some special cleaner into it. They’d developed several over the years, mainly out of necessity (living in a sewer and all) but this one they used specifically for blood. He hoped a little aggression on the scrubbing might get rid of that black gunk too.
But Mikey jerked away when Donnie tried to touch it to his skin. “Said I’d do it…” The youngest turtle grabbed for the cloth, missed twice and then finally got a good grip. “Lemme do it.”
Relenting, Donnie released his grip. “Okay. You do it.” He pulled back but didn’t move from the side of the tub. If his brother was going to be stubborn, fine (Donnie couldn’t exactly blame him; he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if his brothers had to help him wash at their current ages…or ever come to think of it.)
Darn right I’ll do it , Mikey thought. He was the hero of the day, right? But…then why was he so frightened still? So utterly exhausted.
So kinda-enjoying-the-pampering?
But this went a bit far. He was almost eighteen. He was not gonna be bathed like a baby. Bad enough Raph and Donnie were lingering around watching him. He’d scrub himself clean, thank you!
Scrub. Rinse. Repeat. Easy.
Been doing it for years.
Except the cloth weighed about a thousand pounds. His hand shook when he lifted and the very motion of rubbing felt like a marathon.
C’mon. C’mon. C’mon. Just get through this then glorious bed here I come.
Mikey dropped the cloth, dug in the water for it, dropped it again and by the time he pulled it up to work on his shoulder, he was heaving.
Breathing was already bad enough. A struggle. Like pulling it through a straw! Now, it felt like a huge weight was on his chest and molten iron was clogging up most of his throat.
He could do this! He could! He…
The cloth dropped again, sank under the water.
Maybe it was the huge battle he’d had to handle. Maybe it was the stress of having barely gotten to his brothers in time. Perhaps even the fear he’d had pouring through his veins about them being dead. Having to figure out and conquer an evil spirit. Being sick as a dog to begin with.
Whatever the build up, the result was the same.
Mikey broke down in tears. Shoulders shaking, voice clogged. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut but they just seemed to push more tears out. He was a green, trembling puppy, choking out the injustices of the world in wet cries.
“Hey…” the rough baritone in his ears held none of its usual fire. A light dripping of water, then a cold cloth settled on his head, chipping away at the blood and black tariness and it felt so good. “Hey, why the waterworks?”
Raph…you have to even ask…
“Should be able to do this!” Mikey wheezed and his voice was stolen by a series of coughs that left him even more exhausted. “Not weak.”
But I am! Look at me! Useless, stupid, helpless baby…
“Of course you’re not.” Donnie’s hands were on his cheeks and he was looking right into his eyes. Well, he thought he was. Hard for Mikey to tell with how blurry his vision was. “Who said you were weak?”
“Look at..” the youngest tried to gesture to his current state but it took too much effort. He tried to explain through words but whatever gave energy to his tongue had disappeared entirely. Utterly spent, he opted to lay flat against the tub again, tears running down his cheeks as his body shook.
“Mikey.” Raph again. Oddly gentle. “You ain’t weak. You’re just sick, real sick. You saved our tails tonight. You were incredible.”
Mikey turned his head a little, regretted it, and squeezed his eyes shut. Not like he could make out much anyway though whether it was because of fever or tears, he didn’t know. “Don’t feel incredible.”
“That’d be the fever.” A warm squeeze on his hand then Donnie’s voice. “So let us help you. Please? For my sanity?”
Aw, shell. Donnie had to throw in the “for me?” didn’t he? Almost like he knew him.
“…okay.”
OOO
Mikey tried to help. He truly did. But all it seemed to do was get in the way. Plus, each time he tried and failed, it still took energy from his reserves. So, eventually, he submitted, stayed still, and let his brothers bathe him.
Humiliation, thy name is Mikey. I’m never gonna live this down.
He must have drifted off a few times because he only caught snippets of their conversations. Mainly concern for him, touching, really. Except it scared Mikey how worried they were. Given how…useless he felt, he shared their sentiments.
Please, let it just be something a few days rest will cure, oh Mighty Turtle luck.
The black ooze was coming off, at least. That was a plus. He was sure their tub looked terrible though. But unlike the stories, his strength didn’t magically flow back once the evil goo was gone.
Guess he was just super sick. Joy.
“—ikey?”
Blinking, the youngest opened his eyes to Donnie’s face. A reluctant, hesitant I-don’t-want-to-tell-you-this-but-I-have-to face. “Yeah?” He croaked out.
“I’m gonna have Raph lift you up a little so I can clean your lower scutes and tail, okay?”
Part of him wished they’d just left him dosed off for that. Being told your brother was about to clean your most intimate areas was not what he wanted to hear.
But he knew Donnie. He’d never want to do something like that without telling him. Even when he thought they were unconscious, he was always telling them what he was doing.
Good ol’ Donnie.
A shuddery nod was all he could muster though.
Raph gently scooped his brother up under the arms, lifting him to a half stand so Mikey was settled on his knees. The younger boy’s muscles quivered as if he had the weight of the world on them even though Raph was taking almost all his weight.
Donnie, to his credit, worked fast, with not a word said as he scrubbed, rinsed, and checked for any injury or infection. Thorough Doc Don in his element.
Mikey turned his head and buried it in Raph’s stomach.
The older turtle looked down with pity. “Aw, it ain’t so bad, Mikey. Not like you can help it.”
A whimper of sorts. Raph didn’t comment further and just held firm. What could he say? He’d be a self conscious wreck if their positions were reversed.
And Mikey wouldn’t tease him for it.
Mikey might have teased about a lot of things: his supposed smell, his temper, his brashness , even his fear of bugs but anything he was sensitive about—really, truly sensitive about—was off the table.
Didn’t he owe him that same reassurance?
“Mikey?”
A low murmur that Raph guessed was an inquiry. Hard to tell with his brother’s beak wedged into his gut.
“I won’t…this is off the table for our razzing. I promise you.”
Raph didn’t make promises willy-nilly. None of them did. Their word was one of the few truly sacred things they had.
Mikey gave a half grunt of recognition.
“Done.” Donnie stood. “I think that’s enough. Time for bed.”
Raph knelt, slid his arm under Mikey’s bottom and lifted. The younger one promptly buried his face into his brother’s shoulder, letting his arms drape over his brother’s shell.
“Shell,” Raph breathed lightly as the heat radiated off his sibling’s flesh. Even after the cool bath! “You’re still so hot, little bro.”
Not a giggle, not a snort. No “aw, Raphie, you’re handsome too!”
In fact, Raph was fairly certain if his brother wasn’t asleep already, he was close. He lifted his eyes to Donnie who sighed and approached with a towel which he used to remove as much excess water as he could. Through it all, Mikey never moved and didn’t stir.
They walked down the hall toward Mikey’s room in silence.
Leo was waiting for them, amid a nest made of clean blankets, pillows and cushions. As they made their way into the wide chamber, Mikey limp as a rag doll in Raph’s arms, Leo’s face crashed.
“Shell,” Approaching, Leo laid his hand against their youngest’s skin and almost jerked away at the temperature. “Oh, Mikey…”
Donnie gave a low sigh as Leo and Raph worked together to gently deposit their brother amid the blankets. He barely moved in response. When they packed the cushions around him, the boy just nuzzled into them like he was a conforming gel.
“Bath didn’t help the fever.” Dismay colored the genius’ voice. “But he’s clean and I don’t see signs of any infected injuries. But this fever…”
“Anything else we can do?” As he spoke, Leo slipped an ice pack wrapped in a towel under Mikey’s left armpit then another under the right. His brother gave a low shudder and whine, to which the leader knelt close with a soft, “Shh…”
Mikey trembled and Leo stroked his sibling’s head in soft, rhythmic motions. “Shh, just rest, Mikey. You’re safe.”
The youngest turtle settled as Leo pulled a light sheet over him.
The oldest stood, joined his other two brothers. “I didn’t think he would be this bad. I hoped he wouldn’t be…”
“Couldn’t even bathe himself.” Raph shook his head. “It’s like he’s got no energy in him at all!”
“Right now, he needs rest.” Donnie advised. “I’m gonna gather some anti fever meds to give him in a bit to try to bring down that temperature. Push water and fluids when he’s awake.”
“Donnie, could this really be from that illness he had before?” Leo’s voice was grave.
“I suspect it was worse than we thought and with an adrenaline rush like that and who knows what was in that stuff he all over him…”
Donnie didn’t want to say it might be supernatural. Didn’t want to think about it. But he’d be lying if he hadn’t been doing the data, going through the change in symptoms this whole time.…
“Something in that house definitely gave strength to whatever virus he already had. I don’t think it’s still doing that but once you give a virus a foot, it takes a marathon.” Donnie looked at his little brother. “Whatever this is, it’s like Influenza A on steroids.”
“Influ…what?” Raph asked. “Ain’t that just the flu?”
“The Spanish Flu was just a flu.” Donnie deadpanned. “It also killed around one hundred million people.”
Silence. Dead, serious silence. The three brothers looked at Mikey.
Trembling, wheezing, and taking all his effort just to breathe.
Leo walked over and sat by his side. “You two rest. I’ll stay with Mikey tonight.”
Whether it was more for his reassurance or Mikey’s didn’t seem important.