Chapter Text
One of the few downsides to having the superpower of creating portals was that it became the primary means of transportation for all family members, whenever they needed or wanted.
“Open the portal for me.”
Leo pulled the phone away from his ear to glance at the screen to see who had the nerve to demand favors without so much as a simple “hello.” The voice was awfully familiar, but he couldn't remember ever hearing his brother sound so frustrated.
“Hello to you too.” This didn't seem to dampen his urge to tease him a bit. “How are you doing this exceptionally beautiful morning?”
Mikey inhaled loudly.
“Leo, don't fuck with me now,” he growled, his voice breaking. It was hard to tell if he was closer to hysteria or absolute fury, but he was definitely teetering on the edge. And he was starting to lose his balance.
If it were something truly serious, he would have said so right away, so Leo could safely assume no one was dead or on their way to the light at the end of the tunnel. Still, he decided to be polite and reluctantly got up from the couch, stretching lazily. He paused the movie, earning a resentful look from Donnie, even though he hadn't even looked at the screen in a good fifteen minutes, busy poking at the microwave parts scattered on the floor with a screwdriver.
“You're so damn impatient; has anyone ever told you that?” Leo held the phone with his shoulder, reaching with both hands over the top edge of the shelf to quickly grope for the small key.
Usagi believed that children could only be trusted up to a point, and leaving weapons lying around was just asking for trouble. That was why both swords—and, for some reason, the yo-yo as well—ended up in a locked cabinet, and Leo complained about it every time he had to reach for them. Still a relatively small price to pay for peace in marriage.
“Okay, ready,” he finally announced, twirling the blade in the air. He felt his ninpo slipping between his fingers, illuminating the blade with blue sparks. “Where are you going, by the way?”
Mikey, who hadn't said a word for the past ten seconds, now made a sound like he wanted to scream but was too afraid he'd end up crying instead.
“To your place, obviously,” he huffed, and Leo pulled the phone away from his ear, surprised. “Can you just...” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It didn't help, but at least he lowered his voice. “Can you just do what I ask for?”
Leo complied without a word of protest or even a single insensitive comment. He'd already died once; he didn't want to do it again. He even took a step back just in case, thankfully, because Mikey didn't stop for a moment after exiting the portal, striding forward with an expression as if he actually wanted someone to try and get in his way, giving him a reason for a fight.
Though he looked as he had already been through the toughest fight—disheveled, wearing an old tracksuit, and with such deep dark circles under his eyes like he had been born tired and hadn't slept a minute since.
“Was that so hard to do?” he grumbled, not even turning to look at Leo. He didn't pay much attention to Donnie either and stomped on what was left of their microwave. He threw himself onto the couch with such force that he almost bounced off it, grabbed one of the pillows, and wrapped all his limbs around it in a hug that would probably break bones.
Leo exchanged a knowing look with Donnie.
“Was there a war I don't know about?” he asked, a little more seriously, stepping closer and hesitantly sitting down next to him. Still far enough away to be able to move away if necessary. He loved his brother, but he knew all too well that he could release the explosive power of an atomic bomb. Literally.
Mikey let out a loud breath, buried his face in the pillow for a moment, and let out a long, low growl.
“You can say so,” he muttered, a little calmer. He began to pick at a single thread dangling from his sleeve. “Leatherhead's back home. We had a fight.”
On the one hand, Leo expected this, but on the other, he was surprised. He knew that all couples argued sometimes and that his younger brother had a tendency to boil down a year's worth of emotions into one massive, one-sided brawl, but he'd never seen him this exhausted and angry.
“Something so serious that he kicked you out?” he asked, because “Are you getting a divorce or what?” even to him sounded a bit like poking a bear in the nose with a stick.
Mikey clutched the pillow tighter to his chest, probably imagining something else—something very much alive—taking its place, just giving its last, rasping breath.
“No, I left on my own. Because I realized my arguments were stupid and I sounded like an idiot. And I was wrong.” He grimaced. “But I didn't want to admit that to him.”
Leo glanced at Donnie again, but Donnie seemed completely absorbed in his version of the puzzle. Though he was certainly listening intently. The emotional intensity in the room simply exceeded his comfort level.
This way, all the work fell to Leo again.
“What were you fighting about?” he asked, desperately hoping it wouldn't set off an explosion. He wished Usagi were here; he'd always been much better at this.
Luckily for everyone, Mikey wanted to answer.
“That he's always working and leaving me alone with all this bullshit.”
Leo raised an eyebrow.
“Isn't that what you wanted from the beginning?” he asked, because he clearly remembered calling the idea idiotic, reckless, and suicidal. And being ridiculed for it, because, of course, “It'll be fiiine!”
Mikey must have remembered that too, because he shot him a murderous look.
“Yeah, but I had a shitty day, which part of that you don't understand?” he snapped. “I jumped at him for no reason; now I feel bad and regret it. Let him who has never experienced this cast the first stone. Ouch!” He jumped as a metal plate hit him in the shoulder and immediately threw it back at Donnie. “You and Kendra are always at each other's throats!”
Dee managed to catch the plate right in front of his face while maintaining a completely blank expression.
“Yes, but we never regret it.”
Mikey muttered something under his breath that could have been a curse or a prayer to his ancestors for strength and sanity. He especially couldn't complain about an excess of the latter at the moment. The worst of his anger had passed, and instead of looking terrifying, he looked rather pathetic, hunched over on the couch under an invisible weight. That was the only thing keeping Leo from uttering the most satisfying “I told you so?” of his entire life.
He'd known it was going to be interesting from the moment Angelo first mentioned they were planning to adopt. He'd realized it was going to be frustrating when he discovered the date Mikey'd chosen perfectly coincided with Leatherhead's departure. Big Mama had assigned him to oversee the construction of a new hotel, which was supposedly a huge honor but in practice meant a lot of work, dealing with a bunch of idiots calling themselves specialists, and returning home on average once every two weeks. That is, if no one broke anything. And they broke things often.
Leo tried, as gently as possible but still quite firmly, to dissuade his brother from diving headlong into uncharted waters. He wasn't trying to scare him or discourage him from parenthood altogether; he simply advised him to wait a few months until things returned to their previous state and Leatherhead was no longer merely a guest in his own home. He had already experienced for himself that becoming a single parent, even for a few days, was an exceptionally stressful experience, and his child was eight years old and theoretically capable of surviving without his help. Theoretically.
Mikey, of course, didn't listen. What's more, he thought it was a good thing; he'd be taking care of the baby and wouldn't have time to miss his husband, plus he'd be able to learn everything slowly and without any pressure. He was offended when Raph called his vision unrealistic and himself completely detached from reality, and he stopped taking calls from both brothers, graciously speaking only to Donnie, who had learned his lesson in time and refrained from commenting.
Leo decided to give him a week to think it over and cool off, which was one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made. It took Mikey four days to break the silent strike, call each of them in turn, and, with a very suspicious politeness, invite them over for dinner.
There was no dinner. Only a tiny, otter-like yokai sleeping peacefully in Leatherhead's arms.
“Say hi to Miwa,” Mikey said, smiling like a cat that had finally managed to knock over the cage and catch the canary.
There was complete silence in the room, except for the soft breathing of the baby.
“Oh, wonderful.” Donnie was the first to recover from his shock. “A child who cries all the time but won't tell you why. "Excellent choice, he said without a hint of sarcasm...”
That was all it took to set off a whole avalanche. Leo and Raph started talking at the exact same moment, shouting over each other with every possible version of “Have you lost your mind?!” Miwa flinched, startled by the noise, and began to whimper, and Leatherhead immediately carried her from the room, rocking her with a gentleness one wouldn't expect from someone his size. Mikey, on the other hand, remained completely unmoved, deaf and blind to any arguments, no matter who they came from.
He managed to maintain that sense of superiority for a full two weeks—while Leatherhead was still at home and could take care of everything he hadn't had time for while looking after the baby. That is, absolutely everything except feeding, entertaining, carrying, and putting the little one to sleep. As soon as he left, normal food, clean clothes, and any shred of sanity Angelo still had left with him.
Leo had no idea why this surprised his little brother so much. Less than two years earlier, they'd both watched Raph go through the exact same thing, becoming completely useless for several months at anything but being a father. The aliens could attack again, and he'd probably tell them to postpone it, because he didn't have time for this nonsense. Besides, they had to be quiet; the kids were asleep.
Leo had never been so grateful to have a grown-up child, one who could feed himself and wasn't at risk of choking on his own saliva. True, he had to explain every time that no, he had never been a teenage parent, that he had done many irresponsible, stupid things, but not this one—but he still felt he won in that lottery.
Mikey, on the other hand, didn't learn anything. Maybe because he immediately caught baby fever and was more concerned about his nieces than the fact that Raph and Mona looked like they'd crawled through hell.
So he was learning now, very painfully, why it was sometimes worth listening to those older and wiser than himself. Although he still hadn't admitted it out loud and probably didn't intend to.
Leo felt a vibration in his pocket and discreetly glanced at his phone, already knowing whose name he would see on the display.
“Okay!” He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. “You two can go talk about your completely normal and healthy relationships, and I'll take care of something and be right back.”
Donnie ignored him, but Mikey gave him a long look, as if he knew exactly what he was planning and was judging him for it. Hard. But not enough to stop him, so Leo, without a second's hesitation, ran upstairs, locked himself in the bedroom, and answered just in time before it went to voicemail.
“Is Angelo with you?”
For the second time that day, he wasn't allowed to talk about the weather before getting down to business. Apparently, no one had time for manners anymore.
“Yup. Safe and...” He grimaced. “Well, I can't really give him that much, honestly. He looks like something ate him and spat him out.”
Leatherhead let out a sigh of relief, completely ignoring the last comment.
“Okay. I suspected as much, but I wanted to make sure. He didn't say where he was going; he just disappeared.”
Leo sat down on the bed, having brushed enough fur from the duvet to stuff a medium-sized pillow. Although he already had it all over his pants and sweater, he had no idea why he bothered. The joys of living with two rabbits in spring.
“He called, and I opened a portal for him.”
“Ah. Well, that makes sense.”
He fell silent for a moment. Leo waited patiently, absentmindedly smoothing the sheets.
He had no idea how he'd describe his current relationship with Leatherhead. They didn't share many common interests, so he wouldn't call him a friend outright. The only thing they had in common was Mikey, his crazy ideas, and his emotional turmoil, and yet most of the time, that was more than enough. There was enough to talk for hours and still barely scratch the surface.
Leo had never admitted out loud, and he wasn't about to admit, that he actually liked his brother-in-law and that he probably would have liked him years ago if he'd stopped seeing him as the enemy and the worst thing that had happened to their family since the apocalypse.
“We had a fight,” Leatherhead blurted out, and Leo shook his head to refocus on the problem.
“I already know.”
“He thinks I left him alone with it.”
“Mhm. So I heard.”
“I have no idea what to do with it.”
Leo shrugged, even though no one could see it.
“Nothing,” he stated bluntly. “He knows he's wrong; he just took it out on you. And then he realized it, and now it makes him feel even worse. He learned it from me.” He frowned. “Which doesn't change the fact that he looks like shit. Does he even remember what a sleep is?”
Leatherhead exhaled loudly.
“Not really,” he admitted. No one was accusing him of anything, but he already sounded apologetic. “Our girl cries a lot, and he can't calm her down.”
Leo imagined his brother, the self-proclaimed family psychologist, bouncing back against the wall of the absurdly simple needs of an infant who couldn't be shouted at or blackmailed into talking about their feelings.
“Yeah, sounds like something that would give him a crisis.”
And every crisis Mikey had quickly became a crisis for everyone around him.
“He's mad at me because she's completely calm around me.” Leatherhead's breathing quickened a bit; he was probably starting to wander around the room out of nervousness. “No problems. Like a different child. But as soon as Angelo picks her up, she throws some kind of... I don't even know. It's like she's fighting for her life. I tried to suggest that maybe he's holding her wrong or something...”
“Mmm...” Leo grimaced. “Sounds like something he really wanted to hear back then...”
“What was I supposed to tell him? He convinced himself that Miwa hates him. And it doesn't help that...”
He paused and was silent for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to finish the sentence. Leo gave him a moment but eventually lost his patience.
“Well, once you've started...”
Leatherhead sighed heavily.
“He's so exhausted his Ninpo is starting to go crazy,” he said, much slower and with utter resignation. “I woke up today a meter above the ground; half the things in the room were levitating, and I couldn't wake him up. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I told him it was dangerous, that who knows how often it happens when I'm gone, and that...” He stopped again but forced himself to finish. “That at some point he'd end up hurting Miwa.”
Leo whistled.
“Wooow...”
“I didn't want it to sound like that.”
“I know. You wouldn't have willingly brought this upon yourself. But it explains a lot.”
Mikey hated it when anyone suggested he couldn't do something. It was probably a reminder of all the years of being babying and looked down on—he'd become physically incapable of refusing any challenge, even if it wasn't intended to be a challenge at all. No matter what he had to, he simply had to prove himself and prove that he was as good, if not better, than his imaginary opponent.
Leo had once gently suggested he talk to a therapist about it. Mikey had replied that he should rather deal with his own daddy issues, and that was the end of the matter.
Leatherhead had undoubtedly discovered all this on his own, through unpleasant experience, because he didn't seem particularly surprised. Or perhaps he simply lacked the energy for being surprised in all his exhaustion and disappointment.
“I really don't know what to do about all this,” he concluded, not sounding at all like he was expecting good advice or a ready-made solution. More like he was prefacing the idea of asking for a nice tombstone when the whole thing will finally kill him. “Baby girl has been with us for two months, and it's only getting worse. With him and with everything between us.”
Leo tapped his fingers on the mattress, trying to offer anything more than, “That sounds shitty. Good thing it's not my problem.”
“As long as he's in this state, nothing will get through to him. He needs to get himself together. How long are you staying home?”
“I have to be back at the construction site on Monday. Unless someone climbs the scaffolding again without safety equipment, falls, and kills themselves.”
Leo's mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Was that just a theoretical example, or...?” He paused significantly.
Leatherhead snorted under his breath.
“No. That was a ton of paperwork to fill out.”
Well. At least that explained why he didn't like talking about work lately.
“So you both need a break. Maybe...” Leo bit the inside of his cheek and thought the whole thing over carefully. Unfortunately, he still only saw one sensible solution, of course, as usual, one that required sacrifice and effort on his part. “Ugh. I'm going to regret this, but maybe you could leave the her with us for the weekend? Mikey would have time to catch up on sleep, and maybe you two could have a normal conversation?”
He didn't get a response right away, so he was sure he was taken seriously.
“You would really do that?” Leatherhead sounded as if he were simultaneously in disbelief and grasping at this opportunity with all his hope.
Leo shrugged.
“I don't know shit about babies,” he admitted. “But I didn't know shit about older kids either, and Jotaro's still alive somehow. And if anything happens, I can always call Raph. He managed two babies at once, so he can help with one too.”
Leatherhead let out a low growl as he considered the offer.
“I don't know if Angelo will agree. He's trying so hard to prove he can handle it on his own. Like it's his life goal, or something.”
He might have a point. Ever since Miwa arrived, Mikey had stubbornly refused any major help, insisting that if his brothers could handle it, he can too. He completely ignored the fact that Raph relied heavily on Mona, and Leo had no shame about dropping Jotaro off at Donnie's if he and Usagi were too busy. And sometimes, when they simply wanted some alone time.
The chances of him taking the offer as an ego attack were high and increased proportionally with the depth of the shadows under his eyes. Fortunately, Leo wasn't about to bother with such trivialities.
“I'll send Usagi to talk to him,” he said simply. Considering how easily his husband gave in to Mikey's every idea, he was surprisingly good at reasoning with him, too. “He's in such a state that he won't argue for long.”
“That...” Leatherhead hesitated. “I think it's a good plan,” he finally admitted, though he still didn't sound entirely convinced. “If he actually agrees.”
“He'll have no choice. Either that, or we'll put something in his tea.”
On the other side, it became silent again for a moment.
“Was that a theoretical example?”
“Naaah.” Leo completely dismissed his concern. “We do this to Donnie every now and then, and he's fine.”
Leatherhead gave a short, somewhat nervous laugh.
“I wish I'd known that before I came into this family,” he said, and Leo could bet that wasn't a joke either.
***
When he came back downstairs, Mikey was still sitting on the couch, his head leaning back against the backrest and completely out of touch with reality.
Leo stood right behind him and pointed at him, as if Donnie wouldn't be able to see him without it.
“This is exactly what you looked like last week when you said you weren't too tired at all, and I should just give you the keys to the motor.”
Dee looked at him with a mixture of weariness and irritation and was about to reply when Mikey's head snapped up, gasping for air as if surfacing after a long dive. He glanced down at his lap, looked around frantically, pushing the pillows to the floor, and only then realized where he was and why he couldn't find his child. He sighed with relief and sank a little lower against the backrest, his hand on his chest, over his heart, which was still beating far too fast.
Donnie raised his eyebrows in a very judgmental manner, though he was really the last person who had the right to do so.
Leo, on the other hand, could comment as much as he wanted.
“Wow. So you've completely lost your shit,” he concluded.
Mikey opened his eyes with obvious difficulty, looked at him with dissatisfaction, and with even greater effort pushed himself into a sitting position.
“You're both useless,” he grumbled. “Where's Usagi?”
“In the garden. Trying to brush Jotaro's fur so he'll stop leaving it everywhere, at least for a few days.” He smiled wryly. “Spring, a wonderful time...”
Not that he dared complain about nature and its inventions, but they'd used up three vacuum cleaners in the last month, and the shower drain wasn't worth cleaning because it was going to be clogged next minute anyway. He felt he had every right to look forward to the end.
Mikey stretched, blindly swung his legs off the couch, and then jumped back, cursing loudly as his heel impaled on a piece of metal.
“Why are you doing this here?” he hissed, giving Donnie a look as if he had deliberately made an attempt on his life.
“Jotaro took our microwave apart,” Leo explained before any further accusations could be made. “Because someone told him it was perfectly fine and that it was the only way he'd learn something. So now that person has to put it back together so I don't become radioactive after reheating dinner.”
“And does he have to do it here?”
Leo shrugged.
“What, was I supposed to sit there alone?”
Mikey opened his mouth, closed it, turned around, and, mumbling something unfriendly, walked towards the terrace.
Leo watched him go. He'd called Usagi as soon as he'd finished talking to Leatherhead, and he'd easily convinced him that playing babysitters was the only sensible solution to the problem at hand, short of divorce and murder. Now all he had to do was wait for the trap to spring.