Chapter Text
The sky was a brilliant bright blue and splattered with fluffy white clouds that only barely concealed the sun as they drifted by lazily. Birds chirped and sang happily in the trees. Mikey smiled morosely and started whistling along with them as he headed for the stream located a mile and a half into the woods.
He spent a couple hours earlier cleaning the house, meal prepping for the next few days, and getting his affairs in order. His t-phone and a brief note were left on top of his pillow with the words: ‘Take care of each other and Ice Cream Kitty ~ Love Mikey / When you’re ready, I’ll be by the stream.’ He’d been extra careful the past few days to make sure he didn’t purposely piss off any of his brothers or their friends. The last memory he had with each of them is pleasant and that was good enough for him. It was as much as he could ask for at least.
April and Casey were out shopping for groceries. Donnie was working diligently in his makeshift barn lab and Leo was sparring with Raph. Everyone was accounted for and nobody had any reason to check in on Mikey anytime soon. He wouldn’t be remembered until around dinner time and that was alright because dinner was already cooked and waiting in the fridge for them to reheat. Heck there was even a chance he wouldn't be found until the next morning. It was a slim chance, but chance nonetheless since he’d become used to being overlooked.
He’d been thinking about this for about two years and actively planning it for about a week now, making sure he thought over every scenario and tweaked the plan to heed the most favorable outcome. He chose an area near the stream because it wouldn’t require any cleanup. He wouldn’t dare think to do such a dishonorable thing in April’s family farmhouse where his blood would stain the floorboards and haunt the recovering NYC occupants. This location was out of the way. Secluded and peaceful. And he wanted it to be as peaceful as it could be.
The kusarigama felt heavy in his hands in a way it never has before. Mikey came to a stop at the bank and crouched down. He trailed his fingers in the stream for a bit, letting the cool water wash over his scales in a comforting way. It tugged gently; hypnotically. He plopped down into a sitting position and stretched out his legs so his feet and shins were submerged. It felt nice. Refreshing.
The canopies overhead created a tranquil shade with several squares of sunlight checkering the area. Mikey hummed as he tossed the kusarigama hilt a few times, catching it easily.
In the off chance he was found before the deed was done, he moved the first aid supplies to a different location in the farmhouse. It was normally kept on the kitchen counter, but he relocated it to the upstairs bathroom before leaving the house. It would be easily found later, but not in the event of panic and emergency.
He didn't expect anyone to find him in time, but he had to ensure there would be no chance to save him if they did. He made peace with this decision. It was best for the team after all. He only ever screwed up and put everyone in danger. Sure, they'd probably be sad for a few days but this right here was a blessing in disguise for his family and their friends. They might not see that right away, but Mikey was positive they’d come to appreciate his decision and sacrifice when the missions ran smoother and he wasn’t a constant source of distraction, disappointment and anger.
Donnie would be able to accomplish so much more without Mikey barging in and messing with things he shouldn’t be touching. Leo could lead a proper team without Mikey drawing the enemies' attention to them with his never-ending noise. And Raph could be happier without Mikey constantly pushing his buttons.
This was the right decision. Mikey smiled wistfully up at the tree canopies and let out a long, heavy sigh while he worked his wrist guards off and dropped them into a pile beside himself. He wasn’t all that upset anymore, not really, just exhausted. It was the type of bone deep exhaustion that could only be helped with eternal sleep.
Depression and loneliness were not anything new to Mikey. He struggled with both for years in silence, hiding behind his perfectly constructed smiling mask. But 6 days ago, following the discovery of April's 'definitely not real mother,' he came to the conclusion that it was time. There was really no sense in putting off the inevitable any longer when Mikey knew this would always be the end result. At least in the end this was his decision and he was in control of it. The aching pain that flared in his hollow chest and haunted his shattered mind would finally be snuffed out and put to rest alongside him.
Pain. The pain was expected - of course it was - he often sliced his wrists as a reminder to try harder, be better, screw up less. He'd never been very good at learning his lessons though and it showed in the many faint crisscrossing scars and recent scabbing that his wrist guards kept hidden. He expected pain, but the intensity when slicing that deep was enough to make his vision blur, his whole body spasming. He needed to bite down hard on his tongue to prevent screaming. Nausea rolled through his body and he scrunched his eyes shut as a string of pitifully small whimpers escaped despite his clenched jaw.
He dropped the beloved weapon to his side and slumped backwards onto his shell. He let his arms flop to the sides wherever they landed. He’d lose consciousness soon and then sweet oblivion would follow.
Mikey offered a small, wobbly smile up to the sky as his wrists and arms throbbed and blood spurted in time with his weakening, faltering heartbeat. He might fuck everything else up, but this he was sure to get right. He only hoped he may be forgiven one day for 'taking the easy way out.'
Being killed in battle was the most noble way for a warrior to go, but that would put too much guilt on his family who would no doubt blame themselves for his death. The ancient Japanese tradition of Seppuku was his first choice, but his thick plastron made it impossible for him to follow through on his own without asking someone to help, and that right there defeated the purpose of the ritual.
The clusters of leaves and branches in the tree canopies above were swaying from the light breeze that blew through the clearing. Their colors were blurring together and becoming less focused. Mikey was vaguely aware of how cold his body was becoming despite the warm weather. Regardless of the excruciating pain, there was finally peace and relief. He let happy childhood memories of his family dance through his mind until he lost consciousness.
The ghost of a smile remained long after life left his body.