Chapter 11 - Secrets Kept

Michelangelo smiled wickedly as he followed his hotheaded brother Raphael topside. He'd wait until Raph and Casey were about to go, that way they'd be anxious, then he'd drop in and insist upon going with them. Knowing those two impatient hotheads, they'd agree just to keep him from delaying them any further. When they reached their destination, Raph ducked into Casey's room and Mikey climbed partway up the fire escape and lingered below the window.

"Hey, Raph."

"Hey…Casey, I need ya to do something for me."

Mikey blinked.

Raph hated having to depend on anybody for anything. Apparently, Raph's statement had jarred Casey as well, because there were a few seconds of silence. Finally, Casey sighed.

"Shoot," Casey said.

"It's about what we were talking about the other day."

"Yeah?"

Raph growled. "You listening, Jones?"

"Hm? What?—oh, yeah, of course."

Raph must have given him a doubtful look.

"You were saying it's about the other day?" Casey prompted, waiting for Raph to continue.

Mikey's eye-ridges furrowed.

"Yeah, well, some of the things you said really got me thinking. My brothers and I were raised in the sewers. It all boils down to the four of us—well—and Master Splinter. It's all we've ever known. We're real close."

Casey Jones rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't notice."

A dull whack followed and Mikey couldn't help but grin.

"Clam up, idiot, I'm talkin' here!"

"Well, I'm sorry, your highness, please continue." Casey grumbled.

All the color drained from Raphael's voice and left it sounding hollow, "I'm trying to level with ya here, Case, but you're making it so damn hard!"

Mikey's grin immediately melted into a frown. Raph sounded hurt.

There was a pause.

Mikey grit his teeth. Casey Jones, say something you hose-brain! The youngest turtle thought. If you don't, Raph's gonna need to beat the crap out of something when he gets home, which we both know will lead to a fight with Leo, and Raph storming out, which will only lead to him getting more upset. Say something, nincompoop! Hehe. Nincompoop.

"Look Raph, you know I wasn't tryin' ta—"

"Yeah, I get it." Raph shrugged off the human's words.

Casey shook his head. "I don't think you do."

Raphael didn't let him get any further than that, "I know we already made a promise, but there's just one more thing I gotta ask."

Promise? What the heck was that supposed to mean? Mikey was intrigued. He leaned in, trying to hear better.

"You name it, man."

"I did what you were sayin' last time, but I couldn't think of a place to put 'em where my brothers wouldn't look. So I stuffed 'em into my punching bag. It needed a few more patches anyway. Yur instructions are in there too—ya know—just in case."

Immediately Mikey was sucked in by curiosity. Should he ambush Casey and Raph and cajole his way into joining them? Or should he investigate the mysterious treasure sealed up in Raph's punching bag? He could hang with Raph and Casey any time, but he might never get a better chance to snoop around in Raph's room. The choice had practically been made for him. Home it was. With a little luck, he could poke around the contents of Raph's punching bag, seal it all up, and appear as innocent as a week-old puppy by the time Raph got back.

Mikey leapt down and dashed off.

Inside Casey Jones' room, the human teenager put a hand on his mutant friend's shoulder and said gravely. "Look, dude, I know we talked about this, but don't you think you're thinking about it a little bit too much?"

"I want to make sure that my brothers…you know."

"I understand, believe me, Raph, I get it. That's the drawback of being a New York vigilante, isn't it?"

"Our promise is still good?"

"'Course it is." Casey said, offering Raphael his fist.

Raph bumped it and they both grinned tightly, awkwardly.

"Don't sweat it, Raph. I'm not gonna need it."

"You don't know that, Case."

"Stop thinkin' like that, Raph. If ya don't, I'm gonna have to pound some sense into ya."

"Like you could even scratch me."

"Don't tempt me man, don't tempt me."

Mikey poked his face back into the lair and looked around. All clear. Sweet. He bounded over to Raph's battered punching bag, eyeing the fresh stitching and patches. He whipped out his kusarigama and began to slit the patched seam.

"Raph just fixed that you know."

Mikey jumped. Aw shell. He glued an innocent smile onto his face and turned to face his big brother. "Leo…"

"Whatever you're up to Mikey—"

"Up to? I'm not up to anything, bro! Just enjoying the evening…"

"Uh-huh. So, you're slitting Raph's punching bag open with your kusarigama." Leo crossed his arms.

Mikey deflated. "Okay fine, you got me!" He leaned in and whispered, "But if you help me out, we might be able to get some dirt on Raph!"

Leo looked even more unimpressed.

"I followed Raph to Casey's and I heard him saying he'd sealed something up in his punching bag earlier today!"

His blue-masked brother frowned even deeper. "Michelangelo, have you stopped to think that maybe Raph hid whatever it is because he didn't want us to find it?"

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Well no duh, big bro! Obviously he wants to hide it from us!"

"That's not the point I was trying to make Mikey. It might be something that isn't any of our business."

"We're his brothers, Leo! Of course, it's our business."

With a sigh and shake of the head, Leo gave up, throwing his hands into the air. As he left the room he called back over his shoulder, "When Raph finds out, don't come crying to me."

"Come crying…Like shell…" Mikey grumbled. He resumed his work, and in less than two minutes he'd peeled back a patch enough to wiggle his hand into the filling and poke around. Since they couldn't get a real punching bag when they were younger, Master Splinter had helped the four of them gather enough materials to craft this hodge-podge bag back when they were 10. They'd stuffed it with pretty much whatever they could find—mostly old rags. His fingers continued to poke between the fabrics until they encountered something distinctly not filling.

With a giggle, he yanked it out, giddy with anticipation, but as soon as his eyes rested on the items in his palm a weird uneasiness spread over him. What the shell?

A small stack of envelopes and a small leather-bound notebook were tied tightly together with scratchy twine.

For reasons unknown to the youngest turtle, his hands trembled a bit as he undid the twine. The small leather book had a bright red ribbon poking up from the center and when Mikey tilted it, it easily fell open to the flagged page.

Mikey's eyes instantly caught on Raph's slanted, slightly spiky printing. Raph usually only wrote things down when he was in a hurry: additions to April's grocery list for the lair, a note to tell them he was heading out, etc. This wasn't like that. Every stroke of the text on the page seemed to be extremely neat, pointed and deliberate. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't rushed. With a thick swallow that his throat almost didn't seem to want to allow, Mikey began to read.

Casey,

I know that this can't be easy. It's really weird writing this knowing that if you are ever reading it, I must be…well, dead. I'd hoped it wouldn't ever have to come to this…but if you actually are reading this…it must have. Casey, first of all I want to apologize. I know we said that our promise would carry no regrets, but I know you're probably angry and hurt. I know I would be. I also realize that no matter what I write here, that your feelings won't just go away. I think we both know better than to expect something like that.

So, in the end, all I can say is this: You were the best bud a turtle could ask for. Please, remember the promise. Give these letters to my family when you feel they're ready. I just want 'em all to know how much I care about 'em. Don't want 'em to be so lost in grief that they forget about what I would want. Please…Please Casey…I know that this isn't fair of me to ask…you have your Dad and your sister to worry about already…but please, Case…Look out for 'em, yeah?

Raph

Mikey's fingers brushed over his brother's signature, his stomach feeling like it was spinning faster than a washing machine. As though he were acting on autopilot, he closed the book, and his fingers re-tied the tight twine around the packet of letters. The next thing he knew, the punching bag was re-sealed and he found himself wandering into the dojo, unsure why his feet had carried him there, solely aware of his older brother wrapped deep in meditation.

"Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle growled a little, opening his eyes to look at his little brother. Mikey's facial expression was enough to stop any kind of criticism from Leonardo.

"Mikey? You okay?" Leo waved a hand in front of Michelangelo's face. He was starting to get a little worried.

"You were right, Leo. That…that wasn't any of my business."

Leo's hands gripped his little brother's shoulders gently. "Are you hurt?"

Mikey shook his head.

The blue-masked turtle relaxed a little, but the look on Mikey's face made him deeply uneasy. "What happened?"

Again, Mikey shook his head.

"No, Leo. You were right. It's not our business. Raph deserves privacy…especially for this."

Leo raised an eye-ridge. "Mikey, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's good, Leo. I think its better for everyone that way."

"Are you going to tell Raph?"

"Nope. Best for everyone, Leo. Best for everyone."

Been really struggling with stress, let alone having time and inspiration to write. I apologize for such a long hiatus. Writing again feels good. I hope to write more soon. Thank you.