Chapter Text
There’s a lot of fucked up shit that happened in Mikey’s childhood. Most of it he won't tell you, not because he doesn't want to talk about it, but because the minute he tries to recount a story involving his caretaker his fists start to shake, and his grip curls so tight he might shatter whatever in his hand at the moment.
Usually, when Mikey got like that there was a sense of shame he couldn't place. Their caretaker encouraged violence, he wanted Mikey to channel his anger into battle much like his older brother had. Though, Mikey could never be like Raph.
Mikey could never show the ugly parts of himself so brazenly the way Raph could. Mikey could spit, scratch, scream, fight, but he could never bring himself to show his teeth. Not in the unapologetic way Raph and Donnie had always been able to. If Mikey tried, It would've shattered the image of what Mikey wanted to be.
The life of the party that anyone could like, a good person, a controlled person.
Mikey wanted that because it was nothing like what Saki wanted him to be. Maybe somewhere deep down that could've been Mikey’s nature. Maybe if Splinter was still alive at the time Mikey would've gotten old enough to know what kind of person he was before Saki wanted to strip him down into a soldier.
Saki wanted perfection, he wanted physical strength and obedience. Leo was probably the closest thing to a perfect student Saki could get, but Mikey had a feeling Leo just did whatever Saki asked so Saki would listen to him more. It helped them out a ton, Leo was practically a savor Mikey’s entire childhood.
Safe to say, despite Saki wanting to shape them into perfect drones, Mikey, Leo, Donnie, and Raph gave him one hell of a time. They couldn't scrub who they were away, they couldn't forget the love and honor their father had brought them into the world with.
The days spent with their father, mostly blurry with huge gaps everywhere, were fundamental in shaping the people they would be, the people they are. Saki was a dumbass mother fucker to think he could change that with some training and punishments.
That didn't mean he didn't try.
Donnie was super smart, way smarter than Saki could ever be. Though money could only buy so much, and Saki needed fakes of everything in case the foot ninjas needed to go undercover. IDs, passports, driver's licenses, permits- anything that could convince authorities there was nothing amiss, Donnie had printed it, made it.
Donnie was really good at it, and Mikey could tell Donnie enjoyed the technical aspect of it a lot. Even if Donnie had bags under his eyes, and a glare as he made each fake document- as if the act of providing for Saki physically bothered him. In the cover of night, when Mikey would sneak into Donnie’s room they'd talk for hours.
They always talked more at night than they could in the day, so in these moments not a second was wasted. Donnie would whisper in shame how he loved hacking and the feeling of a job well done. The code would speak to him and Donnie spoke back- a conversation only they could have. Comfortable, solid. Mikey would listen for hours, reassurances on his tongue he knew Donnie could only half believe.
Raph was a badass ninja, but he was an even better brawler. Every time Saki sent Raph to accompany someone, intimidate someone, or put someone in their place, Mikey could see that hot anger that melted down Raph’s skin and hardened over him like an armor of igneous. Every night when Raph came home Mikey could hear him huffing and puffing for hours in the dojo, trying to burn the anger induced shame. The armor would fall off and leave nothing but raw, sensitive skin. The kind only Mikey really knew how to hold without ripping Raph worse.
Leo was perfect, essentially. He wasn't perfect in the way Saki wanted him to be, but Leo was the closest thing to perfect that Saki found in the batch of rotten eggs that was the Hamato family. Leo played the part so well, followed orders, spoke only with respect, and didn't complain about tasks or conditions. On the surface, Leo looked like Saki’s little right hand.
Mikey couldn't count the number of fights and screaming sessions that he bore witness to, between Leo and whichever sibling got their toes stepped on that day. All because Leo would cave so easily to Saki’s orders. They saw Leo as weak, a bad seed in their family of goodness, but Mikey knew Leo was the strongest of them. The one to bear the brunt of Saki head on, the one who didn't run away, the one who put himself in Saki’s good graces to give the rest of them an advocate if need be.
In the spaces of time, after fights, orders given, or what have you, Leo would be left alone. His fists shaking and his breathing labored because he hated the situation they were in more than anybody. Leo had made the ultimate sacrifice and he couldn't even be thanked for it. Leo was always so guarded, all Mikey could do was hold his brother's hand and whisper words of gratitude whenever he got the chance.
Mikey was…unpredictable. Saki always pushed him harder, worked him harder because he knew Mikey could be his personal assassin. He tried to break Mikey, mold him into a killer.
Maybe it was Leo’s bargaining, or the spite that hardened Mikey’s resolve, but eventually Saki gave up. Mikey was still a good ninja, but he wouldn't soil his father’s teachings, not for any easy road Saki could provide. Eventually, Saki just hated looking at Mikey, so undercover work it was. Whether hidden in the shadows, or blending into the crowd, Mikey was responsible for finding people, learning dirty secrets, and stealing things.
It was dirty work, and he felt dirty while doing it, but when he was younger Mikey could twist the narrative so he could feel like James Bond, or John McClane. The hero instead of the slippery little thief.
But as time went on, the more Mikey did it, the more he realized he was good at it. He could tell what people thought, how to get them to go to the places he needed them to go, which parts of himself to tone down or play up to get into someone’s good graces. With strangers it was easy.
And maybe- y’know just throwing it out there- Mikey saw an opportunity.
Saki knew Mikey wouldn't run on a mission, not while he and his brothers were still under Saki’s care. So, Mikey would go mostly unaccompanied to lessen the likelihood of being caught. A foot soldier or two to watch his back in case.
And sometimes, the places Mikey goes- underground, topside, untouched by the common people- would have betting pools. Gambling, or cards for cash, whatever it was, people would earn hundreds to thousands of dollars. Mikey would sometimes watch in awe as some rando took home a year's worth of food money in a single day because they could play some cards or roll some dice.
And- just throwing it out there- Maybe Mikey started to have a plan. Putting his fake ID and charming skills to use, Mikey could learn all kinds of games. Played to all kinds of rules and took home fat wads of cash he could hide in his clothes.
Because if they had money, what did they need Saki for? If they could afford their own home, and their own food, what reason did they have to stay with the man?
So along every mission, if Mikey found a betting pool or just a game being played, he would invite himself in. He’d start off by putting up whatever he had on his person, losing it, and then winning it back tenfold. It was the first, genuine good thing Mikey felt in such a long time. He knew where this money was going, and what was being done with it. Maybe along the way Mikey started liking the thrill too. The drop his his gut when he almost lost before the euphoria of winning, it was kind of addicting. Like reading a horror comic or watching sports, perfectly normal.
Any foot soldier who saw him gambling could be easily silenced with a wad of cash in their hand. It was honestly wild how quickly loyalty changed when money got involved, but it was better for Mikey. Besides, Saki didn't deserve loyal bodies. Maybe they were saving up to escape too, who knows?
Every mission, little by little, Mikey started filling bags of cash and hiding them under his bed, under the floor tiles, and inside his mattress. A little secret that burned every time his brothers got hurt. The urge to take it all and run away, but Mikey couldn't until he had enough. He needed enough.
And when that day came, when Mikey had enough cash that was impossible to hide, he told Donnie. It was shocking how quickly Donnie could drum up a fake account. transferring the cash over seas little by little until eventually, Mikey didn't have to hide the cash anymore.
Mikey could only burst in pride when Donnie snatched him into a hug and called him a genius. There was hope for the first time, a backup plan they could grab by the horns and ride into the sunset.
When the day came, under the cover of darkness, Mikey and his brothers grabbed their things and faded into the night. Mikey begged Karai to come with them, so they could all be a family together, but she had refused. She had found new purpose in the Foot Clan, she had found community. Even if she didn't like Saki, Karai wanted to help restore honor to what was once a great clan.
As much as Mikey wanted to force Karai out of there, to beg and maybe even cry some more so she’d feel bad enough to come with- Mikey couldn't force her. If she was happy, if she saw potential, she would stay. Mikey knows what it was like to follow along a path that didn't alien with who you were, he wouldn't force Karai to do the same.
For the last time, Donnie had forged them all fake documents. IDs and school records, things they would've never had to work for now built in a single day.
They were officially the Hamato’s, again. With made up schooling and just an age or two higher than what they actually were so they could legally buy housing and live alone. Things were good. Everyone eventually followed their own path.
Mikey sometimes played it in his head like one of those old school movie endings. The ones where the people fade as they talk about what that person did in the future with ‘Don’t you forget about me’ playing in the back.
Over the years Raph started working at a boxing studio as an instructor. Eventually meeting his partner Mona who could kickbox like a demon. Mikey had never seen Raph so in love. Mikey could hardly believe it.
Donnie went to college for a couple of years, but eventually dropped out to travel. Traveling didn't seem like Donnie’s style, but whatever he felt he had to do, Mikey would support it.
Leo traveled aswell, but he stayed for long periods to help those who couldn't help themselves. Costa Rica, San Juan, Kyoto, Malmo, Frankfurt- and those were just the places Leo told Mikey about. Leo felt like he had a debt to repay for all those years of obeying Saki. Mikey knew even if Leo knew he didn't owe the world anything, he’d still go out to help people. Leo was just cool like that.
Mikey stayed in New York. Maybe it was stupid, but he’d grown an attachment to the city. The familiarity, the people, the sounds, it was all so homey. Mikey couldn't ditch it. So, he opened his restaurant in New York City. He called it Turtle Power, which he thought was cleaver. One of his regulars thought the name was sick, and that's how a regular became his partner, and Woody helped Mikey run the place like the power couple they were.
and sometimes there are hiccups, sure. Sometimes places don’t last. Sometimes strangers break into your restaurant and in the scuffle they accidentally start a fire that leaves you staring at the ashes of your childhood dreams came true in ruins. Sometimes those guys never get caught and you have to relocate because you feel unsafe- but that's life!
It's all about the climb, going up, then down, then up again. Besides, Mikey was fine. It took a couple of months but he got enough money for a new place. It wasn't as good as his old one, but Mikey wanted his business back up and running more than anything. So he worked, rebuilt his new place and painted his neon sign that read “The Shell Razor” because it reminded Mikey of him and his brothers when they were bitty babies.
Years after they escaped Saki, in his late twenties, Mikey was on his second business and thriving all the way. His brothers come to visit him, all at once. They call him that morning and ask if they could swing by after closing to catch up.
Despite the weighted feeling in his gut, adn the weird twists it keeps making, Mikey tells each of them that they are always welcome.
That night, when they're catching up and having a few drinks, Mikey forgets that weird feeling he had just for a little bit.
Then Donnie, who still wasn't tipsy despite it being his second drink, keeps looking around. At first Mikey thought his brother was just appreciating his master skills in decoration. The pirate wheel and paintings on the walls were some of Mikey’s favorite additions of flare.
But Mikey looks deeper, sees the little squint in his brother's eyes. The way Donnie stares all over the empty tables as if breaking them apart mentally piece by piece. Donnie’s mind was like an elaborate field of twists and turns, but Mikey had always felt he was the only one to possess a map to navigate Donnie’s freakishly messy mind.
So when Donnie stares a little too long at Mikey’s floor or widens his eyes at the new leather stools, Mikey knows Donnie isn't just looking around because he’s bored. Donnie will ruin the fragile peace Mikey so delicately hand crafted with just a few words.
“Mikey, how’d you get all this stuff so quickly?”
The laughter between Raph and Leo, a rarity, tapers off. The air is supposed to be casual, but the longer Mikey sits and stares like he has no idea what Donnie is talking about, the more still the air gets.
Donnie may not understand people, but he understands facts a little too well. If something doesn't line up, Donnie will push and keep pushing until they do. Until they lick into place like a Lego set, Donnie will keep rooting around the box for the right pieces.
“Actually, yeah now that you mention it, isn't it really expensive to refurbish like this so soon?” Leo tilts his head at the tables, without so much as a scratch on them yet. Raph may not understand what they're talking about in full, but now he's looking extra hard too. Squinting at the stainless ceiling and disco ball in the middle of the room.
“I filed for an insurance claim.” The lie slips easily from Mikey’s tongue as if Mikey hasn't forgotten years of practice in manipulation. Mikey hadn't forgotten, it was like a muscle, that skill never really went away, it's why both his businesses are so popular. Mikey was never good at lying to his brothers though, it's the one area in his life he always remained honest, or at least tried to.
Now all three brothers are staring at Mikey with suspicion and confusion. From the other side of the bar, Mikey feels the heat of the stares press into his skin.
God fucking damnit. Fuck you Donnie.