TMNT Oneshots:)

(TSM 3) Fire and the flood

Raphie's chapter.

I love this song.

I did not just write two chapters in a day.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was only walking through your neighborhood

The moon stared blankly at him, taunting his stupidity, his weakness. The stars chided along until it felt like a hurricane in Raphael's head. The wind wept passed him, dew stringing with it as if the wind were crying. Chills spread across Raph's arms, goosebumps littering his skin.

Saw you out loud, honey, in the cold I stood

He imagined Michelangelo standing before him, a hand on his shell, the other rubbing circles into his shoulder, just like how he always comforted him.

How Mikey always comforted him and how he never comforted Mikey.

Anywhere I go, there you are

Anywhere I go, there you are

I been getting used to waking up with you

Bright green eyes looked across his bed, searching for his baby brother. Mikey was prone to nightmares so Raphael was used to waking up with him there.

I been getting used to waking up here

He had to stop. To stop searching. To stop wanting. Mikey wasn't coming back. He's never coming back.

Anywhere I go, there you are

Anywhere I go, there you are

There you are

He loves to bake cookies. It's his favourite thing to make. He would sing along to some tune whilst he whipped up a batch of whoever brother was his 'favourite' that day.

There you are

It was usually Raph.

You're the fire and the flood

Both of them jumped from rooftop to rooftop, drunk on the fresh air, and one of them gave a giddy laugh.

And I'll always feel you in my blood

They were the same blood type. Brother to Brother. When they were younger, it brought them closer to make the other two jealous. Leo and Donnie would pretend they had the same blood type too, and Mikey would tease them relentlessly.

Everything is fine

When Mikey had nightmares, Raph's door was always open. When Raph had nightmares, Mikey was already at his door with a mug of hot chocolate and a brain full of stories.

When your hand is resting next to mine

Mikey always held Raph's hand, both physically and metaphorically. If it was for his benefit or Raph's then did not know.

Next to mine

It did not matter.

You're the fire and the flood

Raphael and Michelangelo. Orange and Red. The second oldest, the second youngest. They were intertwined in more than one way.

Yet Mikey snapped off the wire that Raph had bent so deeply.