T! M! N! T! Does not belong to me!

They were watching him.

Michelangelo was sure of it.

He woke up in the morning, and he could feel their eyes penetrating his skin. Their gaze burnt into his skull as they read his mind; trying to see what his next action would be. They were watching the way he mumbled in his sleep, requesting for five more minutes. They were watching the way he rolled out of bed. He bet they were even watching him as he went to the bathroom.

Mikey went into the kitchen, where he found his three brothers. He shuffled across the smooth flooring, feeling its flatness against his feet. He slowly sat down opposite the other turtles, grabbing an empty bowl from the middle of the table. Then, he inched his hand towards the box of cornflakes. Wrapping his hand around the cardboard cuboid, he pulled it towards him at a snail's pace. Mikey looked both ways suspiciously, before lifting the box and tilting it towards the bowl. The little bits of cereal fell into the bowl in single file, pattering down like water droplets from a tap that hadn't been turned off completely.

After about four seconds, one of his brothers, Raphael, glared at him and snarled, "Just pour it in, ya idiot. Ya doin' ma head in."

Mikey widened his eyes, dropping the box onto the table. Cereal chucks burst out of its open end, spraying the immediate area. A couple of cornflakes pattered into his brother Donatello's cup of coffee. Don pulled a face, looking into his cup with disgust. Sighing, he pushed his drink away from him. Then he and Raph looked at each other, before watching their orange masked brother. Nearby, the last brother, Leonardo, was reading the morning newspaper. He pretended that he was distracted and wasn't paying attention to them, despite the fact he was gazing at Mikey warily.

Now, Mikey was pouring some milk from a cloudy glass bottle into his nearly empty bowl, only letting out a small drizzle of milk at any one time. He sweated heavily as he did this, and his clammy hands caused the bottle to slip and fall onto the table. The bottle didn't shatter, but a puddle of white liquid began forming on the table at a steady rate. Don pushed his chair back, going to get a piece of cloth to clean up the mess. But before he could get off his seat, Mikey grabbed the newspaper Leo was holding and used it to mop up the mess. Then, he rose from his seat and put the soggy paper in the recycling bin, looking over his shoulder as he did so.

"I hadn't finished reading that," complained Leo.

"Mikey, is there something wron-" Don started, obviously disturbed by his brother's behaviour. However, before he could express his concerns, Mikey ducked under the table, not coming up for two and a half minutes. Don sighed, bringing his coffee back towards him and dipping his right hand into it to fish out any stray bits of cornflakes.

"Oi Mike, why are ya actin' more like an idiot than usual?" asked Raph.

Mikey's head popped up. He lifted a finger to his mouth, hissing softly. Then, Mikey got to his feet and took three steps backwards. As he performed this action, his eyes flickered around the room. Leo pressed his fingers against his temples and muttered darkly, "Mikey, can you please tell us what the matter is?"

Mikey shook his head, pointing upwards. His brothers followed his finger's direction, raising their brows. The ceiling had a faint layer of grime on it, but other than a small scotch mark that involved a toaster and Michelangelo, there was nothing unusual about it. Don was the first to lower his head. "Mikey, I don't understand. What's up?"

Mikey gulped, before saying hoarsely, "They're… watching us."

"They?" Leo dropped his head and stared at his brother. "Who are 'they'?"

"No…" Mikey whispered. "If I tell you that I am aware of their existence… something bad will happen."

"Nothing bad's gonna happen, bro," Raph said, tearing his eyes away from the ceiling. "If anyone tries to mess with ya, we'll make 'em wish that they were never born. Now, tell us who the shell ya talkin' about."

"No…" Mikey buried his face in his hands. His brothers got off their seats and surrounded him. Don rested a hand on his shoulder, while Leo took hold of one of Mikey's hands comfortingly. Suddenly, Mikey jumped off his seat, before flinging his arms upwards and shaking himself free of his brother's comforting hands. "Don't touch me! They'll get ideas!" He twitched, hiding his face behind his hands once more.

"Mikey!" exclaimed Don, both shocked and hurt. "We were just trying to make you feel better!"

"Yeah, ya didn't need to go all Mister Head case on us," Raph growled, clenching his fists. "Look, are ya gonna tell us who they are or not? 'Cos if ya ain't, than can ya go and leave us in peace?"

"Raph," Leo scalded him, glaring at his red masked brother. "Something is obviously disturbing him." He turned to Mikey, smiling warmly. Then, he said in a much gentler tone, "Why don't you go talk to Master Splinter, if you don't feel like talking to us?"

"Yeah," Don said, though he secretly wanted to know what was bothering his brother. He desperately wanted to know who 'they' were. And, by the expressions of his brothers, he could tell they were as equally intrigued and curious as he was. "He should be in his room. Why don't you go see him now? I'm sure he won't mind."

Mikey lifted his head up, staring at his brothers with frightened eyes. "I can't tell anyone about them. Not even Sensei. They don't like him."

"So shut up about them," Raph snapped, sitting back down and picking up the soggy newspaper. He found a couple of moderately dry pages, and began to read them. "If ya gonna keep blabbing about somethin' ya ain't gonna talk about, then keep ya trap shut."

"Have… have they hurt you in anyway?" Don asked Mikey, concerned.

"No," Mikey mumbled. "They never hurt me. But they're watching us… no matter where we are. I can't do anything without them knowing… unless you guys do something to distract them."

"Okay then," said Leo. "How about I go and find something to do? Then they won't be watching you anymore."

"Look, there ain't anybody else here!" Raph shouted. "We're the only ones in this room, okay?"

"I can hear them…" moaned Mikey, his face growing paler by the second. "Can't you hear them talking?"

"Wait, ya hearin' voices now?" Raph was genuinely disturbed now. "What are they sayin'?"

Mikey shrugged, placing his face back into his hands. Leo tapped Don on the shoulder, pointing at the door. Don nodded wordlessly, departing from the room quickly. Leo sighed heavily, staring at his brother sadly. "Mikey, we're going to give you another chance to tell us who they are. Now, are you willing to tell us who or what is troubling you?"

"No," Mikey hiccuped.

Leo clasped his hands together, looking grim. "I'm afraid you have left us with no other choice. Raph, we're going to take him to the infirmary. Mikey shouldn't be hearing voices when there aren't any, and he shouldn't be feeling like he's being watched all the time. Come on," he grabbed a squirming Mikey from under the armpits, while Raph held the orange masked turtle by his waist. "This is for your own good."

"Or are ya gonna tell us why ya actin' like ya tryin' out for the Stupidics," Raph growled as they lifted him out of the room.

"Okay!" Mikey shouted. "I'll… I'll tell you!" His brothers stopped walking. Leo and Raph gave each other triumphant grins as they looked down at their brother expectantly. "It's… I can hear someone… narrating out l-lives."

"What?" said Raph. "Narratin' our lives? Like some sort of storyteller?"

Mikey nodded.

"Mikey, we aren't in a story. There is no narrator. This is real life." Leo groaned quietly. "We're still going to take you to the infirmary. You're obviously not feeling well."

"It's not just some story!" Mikey cried out as Don returned with Master Splinter. "It's a story about us, created by this person who thinks we're cool. Which we are, but that doesn't matter!"

"What's up with Mikey now?" Don asked Leo and Raph.

"He thinks that this otherworldly being is dictating our lives," Leo explained, watching Mikey try and wiggle out of his grip.

"Yeah, and he thinks we're part of some stupid story based on us," Raph added.

"What, like a fanfiction?" Don widened his eyes in disbelief.

"It would seem so," sighed Leo, looking down at his brother pityingly.

"It doesn't seem like we are; but we really are!" Mikey shouted exasperatedly. "I can hear them talking!"

Splinter sighed. "I'm afraid I will have to put a limit onto the number of third person stories you are allowed to read, Michelangelo."

"What shall we do with him?" asked Don.

"I suggest that he has a nice long rest, before we try and sort this out," Splinter said. "Donatello, aid your brothers in taking Michelangelo to the infirmary."

Don nodded, helping Leo carry the top half of Mikey. They carried him into the infirmary, closing the door firmly behind them.

Splinter shook his head, smiling at Mikey's foolishness. "Fanfiction indeed."