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“Ok April, I concede, I guess. These are pretty good.” Donnie took another bite of a lavender colored macaron. “Very good actually…” He was pleasantly surprised. The crisp cookie exterior, the chewy interior, and the subtle sweet mild nutty flavor was unexpectedly right up his alley. His other hand moved the box of treats closer for inspection. Mikey looked on curiously.
“Though the rose ones?” Donnie huffed. “Practically screaming Red 40.”
Leo let out a laugh as he proceeded to pick up and nibble on a red macaron. “Let’s be honest Don, whatever carcinogenic chemicals it has, it's not going to drastically change, ‘this whole situation.’” He gestured wildly to his figure, then to the rest of his brothers sitting by the skate ramp.
Donnie shrugged as he finished the delight, no interest in really discussing the nuances of food safety testing. He turned his attention to his tech gauntlet. The specimen he had in the lab was ready for examination. He stood, and after a mili-second of consideration, grabbed a macaron for the road. Time to go!
“Well gentlemen, plus dear sister, it has been a pleasure. Thanks for the mac-uh-rohns.” He was having fun with the word itself now, it was a bit euphonic. “I’ll be off to my lab now.”
“Aw you sure Don?” Mikey asked. His eyes suddenly wide, and weepy.
Ah, the classic Miguel puppy dog eyes. “Yes?” Donnie replied, confused.
Mikey’s look remained. What did he want? Donnie tried again. “Affirmative? I’m testing a water sample from an adjacent sewer system. Great discoveries are upon us! Maybe. Probably? More like 50/50 at best.”
“Oh…Ok! I understand!” Mikey smiled and waved the soft shell off as he retreated from the atrium and presumably, to his lab.
“Mikes? You good?” April asked.
Mikey looked back at the group, squirming a bit at the sudden attention. “Yeah, I mean, of course! I just wish I could hang out with Donnie more.”
“Then go follow him?” Raph suggested simply.
“I could, yeah.” Mikey said appeasingly. “But it's not the same, it's not us hanging out on the skate ramp. It's not like us watching Jupiter Jim. Anytime he is in that lab…I dunno… I feel like a fly on the wall. Like I’m not really perceived half the time-he gets so focused. I just wish we could do things we mutually enjoy together more.” He wrung his hands gently, till his fingers began to pick at the wrappings that held his aching hands together.
April reached out and softly grabbed each of his hands, untangling them. “I know he can be stand-offish sometimes. But I’m sure if you talked to him, he would figure something out.”
Raph and Leo nodded in agreement.
“Yeah I know. Problem. Solution. That's him.” He chuckled a bit, looking down at his hands. “But I want to think of something myself, put my noggin to use.”
April looked on sympathetically. “If you say so…if you come up with any fun plans and want help let me know.”
“You got it.” Mikey said. His gaze roamed around the room, until they rested on the box of macarons. Boom. Metaphorical lightbulb.
“Actually. I might have an idea…”
—-----------------------
“You need help with a recipe?” Donnie was facing his computer, typing away.
“Yes! I think your expertise would be great!” Mikey said. It was a day later now, he had all the ingredients in the kitchen now thanks to April.
“I fail to see how-” Donnie began.
“It's macarons.”
Well.
“I guess I could supervise…”
“More than supervise, come’on I’ll explain in the kitchen.”
When they entered the kitchen, Mikey quickly surpassed him to grab his tablet on the counter.
“This is the recipe.”
Donnie scrolled through. “Preppy kitchen?”
“Mhm!”
He was confused. Again. Nothing on the page really screamed mad scientist or ultra tech genius. “Sigh. I’ll just sit over here then? Give words of affirmation as you do this or something?”
Mikey waved his hands. “No, no see I cook a ton, obvi. But I don’t always bake and macarons are a technical delicacy. They require exact precision. Like…” He motioned his hands in thought before snapping his fingers. “Like with your chemistry experiments where the ratios must be perfect. Like with how you won’t stop working on a project until the code performs at peak condition. We need that level of supreme exactitude-and you’re the turtle for the job!”
Donnie tilted his head looking at Mikey, then the recipe. He scrolled to the extensive notes section. It certainly looked…detailed. Though he honestly wasn’t sure what a difficult, much less simple, baking recipe looked like.
Mikey began to worry in the short silence. “I typically wing recipes, especially ingredient measurements. I’m a ‘follow your heart’ sort of person y’know? So I think you’d be perfect to ensure I don’t mess it up.”
Donnie huffed in reluctant agreement. Sure, that seemed reasonable. “Alright, I’ll help. Though I’d like to make a slight change to the recipe.”
“Of course!” Mikey replied.
And so, they were off.
Mikey was being genuine earlier, he typically just feels out measurements. Whenever it was a matter of precision, Donnie was one step ahead. Instead of using measuring cups, he suggested they go by weight. When he saw the larger granules in the almond flour, he sought out a sieve. Instead of ‘feeling out’ the temperature for the buttercream filling, Don was quick to pull out a thermometer. Mikey was right, Donnie was pretty astute with these things. It faintly reminded him of some lab experiments. And admittedly, wasn't the gas stove just a large bunsen burner? In all, it required similar lab skills, except there was a fun edible treat at the end. Donnies work typically did not result in that outcome. Typically.
Donnie moved around the kitchen in a relaxed manner, even more so when Mikey turned on an 80's playlist. Both danced around each other as the recipe came together. Donnie’s only request, to use purple food dye, was faithfully fulfilled.
Mikey was so pleased. Don was smiling! He was smiling! He felt like he could fly! A resounding success so far. With Donnie’s help he gathered the final mixture for the cookie component into a piping bag. He leaned over the counter with the piping bag and began carefully putting equally sized dollips onto the parchment paper. His arms and hands were already a bit tired from mixing-they were almost done though.
But his arms began to shake from the fatigue, a dull, distant pain throbbed there. It reminded him of the past and the day his world almost ended.
“Mikes, you ok?”
Mikey blinked, the last two dollops were nowhere near circles, or in approximate size with the others.
His cheeks reddened. “Aw geez. My arms need a break. Take over for me?”
“Of course.”
Donnie finished by meticulously piping out the last of the cookies, tapping the pan, and popping them in the oven Mikey had preheated.
Mikey rested glumly on a barstool, leaning forward to rest his arms on the cool countertop.
Donnie took a seat next to them as they waited for macarons to bake. He flicked his goggles on and turned to Mikey.
“So your hands are still bothering you?”
Mikey chewed on his lip. “Yeah. a bit. It's not overwhelmingly painful like it was, promise. They just need time.”
Donnie extended a hand. “May I?”
Mikey complied, placing one in his brother's.
“Just because it is getting better, it doesn’t mean you have to suffer in the meanwhile.”
He adjusted his goggles, seeing something Mikey could not.
“I will change your compression sleeves. These things lose compressing strength so I think getting some new ones will help. Still like the black color? Perhaps a Genius™ logo to spice it up?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Mikey's eyes widened and let out a small chuckle. “If the logo is orange, we have a deal.”
Donnie placed his hand down. “Deal. And if you need help with cooking, like we did those few months ago, I think we all would be happy to help.”
Mikey nodded stiffly. He always felt like he was straining for independence. He is a big man in a little body-he can handle himself! But perhaps he had declined his siblings' help too early into healing after all. And admittedly, Donnie was the best assistant, it rang true today. Leo tended to over cook things. Raph, despite his attempts to be delicate, had a hard time using the tinier equipment. Dad was just, well, dad. And April wasn’t around all the time. And well…
He gulped before he asked. “Would it be okay if it was just mostly you?”
A raised eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because you had fun today too, right?” Mikey said, throat tight.
Donnie considered carefully before saying, “Yes. Yes I did.”
Mikey can sniff out a lie from miles away. He was being truthful. His shoulders relaxed.
Donnie was confused again. It felt like there was an elephant in the room but he really did not trust himself to accurately pin the likely nuanced subtext of this situation.
God he hated trying to guess things. So he wasn’t. He was going to bite the bullet.
“Mikey what am I missing here?”
Mikey’s heart squeezed, feeling caught. “It's silly!” He said, hands moving to his face.
“Miguel.”
“But your emotionally unavailable bad boy image!” He exclaimed.
Donnie snorted. “Ok, I’m officially disabling my emotionally unavailable bad boy for this conversation. I’m not going to understand this unless you tell me directly.”
Hands scrubbed under his eyes before he confessed, cheeks flushing. “I just want to spend more time with you. Time where we aren’t fighting for our lives or sitting in the med bay. I miss you. I miss you a lot Dee.” His eyes welled with tears.
Donnie froze. Oh no, tears. He looked on helplessly.
“I’m so scared Dee. I’m so scared that what we have here won’t last. That next time it won’t just be the lair that gets destroyed. That next time it won’t just be a few awful scares and months of recovery like with the Krang. I’m so scared that next time will be the last time. And you will be gone.” He wept. He was so embarrassed, Dr. Delicate touch was supposed to be keeping it all together. “It's so silly! Like obviously I can’t fixate on things I don’t know will happen, I know it isn’t rational. But I’m still scared. If something were to happen-” He hiccuped.
“- most of my memories of us will be just me. Waiting at your door alone. Watching you at your desk. And I don’t want that-whatever happens, I want to have happy memories with you.”
Donnie starred, mind going a millions miles a minute. Suddenly he was in the turtle tank. He had asked Casey about future him. It was all in the past tense. He died in the future, in a different timeline. Mikey was there in the turtle tank. The lotto numbers of the future didn’t matter, how many nobles prizes he may have won did not matter. There was a world where Mikey didn’t have one of his big brothers, that-
A yawning expanse of emotion threatened his psyche. Remember. Problem. Solution. Problem. Solution. Problem: Mikey is distressed. He pulled away from the memory.
Solution?
His skin shivered slightly at the thought, but he moved to wrap his arms around his little brother and held him tight.
“Miguel you’re right. We can’t predict the future. Hell, the timeline Casey came from is different from our own now.” He was trying to assure himself too. “The reality is the present. We are together now are we not?” He moved back, hands resting on the box shell’s shoulders. “And now dear brother, we are macaron artisans!” He squeezed his shoulder tighter. “And there will be more endeavors to come!”
Mikey gave a shy smile, palms trying to stanch the endless flow of tears. Don extended a tissue from his battle shell. “Thanks Dee. I’m sorry-thanks for caring.”
“You can always expect me to care Miguel, even if it doesn’t seem apparent. And stop saying sorry you goof. Fluctuating emotions are normal, I am fully aware I am the exception in this household. Now then. Ready to finish some mac-uh-rohns?”
With a wet laugh Mikey followed Donnie along as they put the buttercream filling onto the cookies, finally finishing their baking creation. Both stood in front of the tray. There laid 30 purple macarons with white buttercream filling. Each picked up one.
“Cheers?” Mikey asked, voice still a little nasally, gesturing his macaron forward.
Donnie looked at the treat in his grasp, turning to inspect all angles. Superbly circular. Cookie to cream ratio just right. Color-immaculate. Assessment? Visually excellent. Only one last test.
“Cheers.” He said as he dinked their fresh macarons together before taking a bite.
Final assessment? Perfection.
“Holy truffle mac and cheese Mikey!” He said, hand covering his mouth as he continued to chew. “These are better than the ones April brought!”
Mikey practically glowed with joy. He began plating the treats in an artistic pile on one of his finest plates.
Donnie bumped his side. “I see you Mikey ok? This will be one of many memories we make going forward. I promise.”
“Thanks Dee. Pinky promise?” Mikey grinned.
“Pinky promise! Even though I’m not sure we technically have pinkies!” He laughed using one finger to seal the deal.
“Now. How about we show off our culinary and chemistry supremacy to the others through generous samples?”
Mikey gave an eager nod. “Oh yeah! Let's do it! B Team reaching new heights baby!”