Brotherly Bonds

The Three Worst Words

"Shut up, Mikey!"

"I hate you! You're the worst big brother ever! You're always yelling and hitting and pushing me around! I hate you! I wish you'd go away!"

Young Raphael stared at his little brother, shocked. Then his eyes narrowed and he looked at Leo and Donnie. They were just standing there.

"You can't just let Mikey say something like that!" Raph said, getting a really bad feeling in his gut. Donatello refused to meet his gaze.

Leo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Raph, you do yell and hit too much. You're always hurting our feelings."

"And you are mean sometimes, Raphie," Don said, rubbing his neck nervously. He still wouldn't look up.

Mikey, still angry stomped over and got in Raph's face. "You're always mean to me! I hate you Raphael, I hate you!"

Tears filled the eight-year-old's neon-green eyes. "You-you can't mean that Mikey."

"I do mean it! I hate you! I hate you!"

Raphael's little heart felt like it had been shattered into a million tiny pieces. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and his little fists clenched. He wanted to hit Mikey, to shut his mouth, to beat him up, but he couldn't. Sensei would be mad at him. Leo and Donnie too, and Mikey would still hate him. They'd all still hate him. He turned on his heels and ran into the sewers.

He ran and ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore. His little legs gave out and he fell to his knees in the dirt and grime of the sewer. His muscles ached, his lungs burned, his eyes stung with tears. He had no idea how long he'd been running, how far he'd gone, or how he'd ever get back to the lair. His brothers wouldn't be wanting him back anytime soon anyway.

With a sniffle and a sob, he shoved himself up to his feet and took a few more, weak, tiny steps forward. He stepped on something sharp in the sewer water and cried out, falling plastron-down amongst the debris. Something scraped his knee, his chin hit something hard, and his hands, grasping out for leverage during his fall, burned in pain. For almost five minutes he couldn't gather enough strength to get up again. Part of him wanted to die and melt away into the shadows. At least his brothers wouldn't have to put up with him anymore.

His little body shook with sobs as the tears came faster and warmer now. Inside, he'd always known that they hated him. Always. They'd never said it—before today, that is—but he'd always known. Even Sensei. They all hated him. They never wanted him around.

All he wanted was to be included, but the harder he tried, the more they sighed and rolled their eyes and resigned to having him around. Joining any game or activity they were engaged in was always a big chore. Every time he asked he was met with some negotiation from Leo, timid evasiveness from Don, or pouting from Michelangelo. He was always the bad guy. They didn't like him, he knew that, but if in the end, he got a couple of hours with his brothers out of it, it was all worth it.

He loved playing with his brothers. At least, he used to. They'd never want to play with him again, now.

He'd never admit it, but they had been meaner than usual to him lately. Every game they played either required three players or had him as the villain. Every time he tried to talk to them, they would talk over him to each other, or just flat out ignore him. It made him mad. In fact it made him furious. He felt so lonely, and the only way he knew how to show it was by yelling and banging his fists on the wall, because it was the only thing they ever seemed to notice.

And he was punished for it, constantly. The only thing that he ever got noticed for was being bad, but at least that was better than nothing, so he'd easily settled into a routine of doing and saying things that would make them listen and rebuke him, because that way they at least acknowledged his existence.