Title: Three Sheets to the Wind
Rating: M ... for the situation – I am in NO WAY endorsing teenage drinking. Wait 'til you're of age, kiddos. I however… can drink. Because I am THIRTY YEARS OLD. So there. P
Genre: Humor... except for Leo... XD
Fandom: 2003 cartoon/movieverse
Summary: Mikey decides getting drunk is the ultimate teenage right-of-passage... even for ninjas ... and turtles!
Disclaimer: If I owned TMNT ... Leo would bleed more... and Raph would angst ... a LOT.
Three Sheets to the Wind
The first time it had been Raph.
Raph, and a bottle of cheap whiskey, and a quiet night when Master Splinter had been at April's for a Gilmore Girls marathon. He'd cackled and giggled while he told stories of every goon he'd ever beaten. Every girl he'd ever eyed. Every bike race he'd ever won. Then he delighted more in reminding Leonardo of every mistake the older turtle had ever made. Don and Mike had laughed along, and eventually Raph had grabbed them, hugged them tight and told them how much he loved them. He'd ignored Leo, then.
Finally, he collapsed in a heap on the worn couch. Mike had announced the night as a success and declared, "One down! Three more to go!!"
Leo had merely sighed and walked away. Later, he heaved his stumbling, intoxicated brother up to his room and tucked him into bed. Raph had gripped his arm then, bleary-eyed and slurred words … told him that he loved him, too … then called him a dickhead.
Leo simply 'tsked' under his breath and left the room, a small smile on his lips.
The next time it had been Donny.
Donny, and a nice bottle of red wine, and their sensei off to visit his good friend the Daimyo for the night. He'd snickered and blushed and rattled off equations and theories and hypotheses at a rate none of them could follow. Then he'd started wagging an accusatory finger at each of them and touting the glory of science, and how they should each study more. Raph had laughed like a madman, until eventually Don got clingy and continuously walked between he and Mikey giving them bear hugs and nuzzles. He'd kept away from Leo, then.
Finally, he drifted off leaning against Mikey and clicking his fingers on an imaginary keyboard. Mike had let out a loud 'whoop' and declared himself next.
Leo just shook his head and cleaned the kitchen. Later, he practically carried his genius little brother to his lab. Pulled out the sleeping mat stored there and rolled his brother up in the blanket. Don had reached out his arms then, swallowing Leo up in an over-heated hug, nuzzled his beak in the crook of his big brother's neck wearily.
Leo simply sighed and gently pushed Don back into his bedroll, chuckled a little under his breath as he turned out the lights.
The third time it had been Mikey.
Mikey, and a dozen beers, and their father off to a relaxing weekend at Casey's farm. He'd danced and spun and boarded and talked entirely too loud. Music playing loudly, video games even louder. Jumping between pieces of furniture and fighting invisible Foot ninja. Don and Raph had chased after him, trying to keep him still, but grinning like maniacs the entire time. He'd smiled at them, and patted their heads, and told them they were the best big brothers in the world. He hadn't spoken to Leo, then.
Finally, he fell down and wasn't able to get back up. Puddled like a ragdoll on top of his two brothers, mumbling and giggling happily in his sleep. No one said anything about a next time.
Leo rolled his eyes and methodically cleaned up all the evidence of that nights activities. Later, he rescued Raph and Don from being smothered, giving Mikey an impromptu (barely-conscious) piggy back ride to his room. During dismount, Mike had unexpectedly kissed the top of Leo's head and softly told him that he was still the bestest big brother in the whole world.
Leo had grinned and tugged the covers up to Mikey's chin, petting Klunk as the kitten curled around his brother's pillowed head.
There was never meant to be a fourth time.
He never intended to fall prey to the silly idea hatched, what seemed like ages ago, by Michelangelo one night when he was bored. The idea that, as young teenage boys, it was the ultimate right of passage for each of them to get mind-numbingly drunk on a night when their parent was away. Leo had bent to the will of his little brothers, allowed them their night of fun, but had steadfastly refused to partake in it himself. There was no way he would allow himself to lose control so easily, in such a silly situation. So, no, there was never meant to be a fourth time.
He, however, apparently did not give his brothers enough credit.
It began with a bit of spiked tea. He had smelled the difference immediately, rolled his eyes, and taken a sip. The strong flavor of sake nearly made him gag. The hushed mumbling and chuckles coming from the living room couch gave away the culprits. As if he needed to guess. Their sensei was away on a short sabbatical, and yet strangely, there had been no talk about it being his turn.
Now he knew why. He sighed and quietly tipped out the tea in the sink. Such a waste. Instead he prepared to ice down some water and play it safe. The utter silence coming from the couch made him pause. He eyed the ice cubes he'd been reaching for again. Every single tray was newly filled and frozen. NO ONE filled trays up after themselves in this home, save for he and Master Splinter.
Mike and Raph would never have thought of something as devious as filling ice trays with alcohol…… Don would, though. He sighed again and closed the freezer, placing his empty glass back on the counter with a 'clink'. Right. Opening the fridge he found a mysteriously full gallon of orange juice that had been half empty just that morning, a questionable pitcher filled with purplish kool-aid that he'd never seen before, and several bottles of soda that all appeared to have broken seals.
Okay. This was beginning to get ridiculous.
He rubbed a palm down his face and closed the refrigerator door, empty handed. Turned on his heel and started walking to the exit of the lair. He'd have to get something to drink from April's. He only made it half-way across their home when the silence was brought to an ear-piercing end by the sound of Raphael's voice.
The last time it had been Leonardo.
Leonardo and nearly two bottles of sake forced down his throat by three annoying, conniving, HEAVY little brothers, who cackled and howled and slapped each other on the back for a job well done. He eventually pushed them off and slowly stood, three eager faces watching keenly below him. When they expected him to stumble around and dance, he gracefully curled himself into a ball in the corner of the old leather couch. When they expected him to be silly and loud, he softly cried into his shaking hands and mumbled words of apology. When they expected him to be affectionate and overly clingy, he reached out to each of their warm faces and asked forgiveness for failing them so many times. When they expected him to be happy, he told them how unworthy he was.
Finally, he fell into a deep, deep sleep. Hands clasping his baby brother's, and silver streaks of tears tracking down his face. No one spoke of the words he had whispered. No one mentioned doing this another time. No one said anything at all.
Raphael silently hefted his older brother in his arms and carefully deposited him on the futon in his room. Michelangelo delicately removed his big brother's mask and wiped his tear dampened face with a cool cloth. Donatello gently piled their collected pillows and blankets unto the futon around their fearless leader. Then three guilt-ridden, though a certain one would never admit it, little brothers curled around their protector, their defender, their caretaker, and snuggled up into a warm little pile.
Leonardo woke hours later with a pounding headache and a heavy sense of heat and claustrophobia. He realized then, that he was completely overcome. Raph was snoring loudly in his right ear, Don was hazily muttering ingredients in his left, and Mike was drooling on his plastron. He blinked his blurry eyes and wondered what in the world could have caused this particular situation. A warm breath skittered across his skin and his drooping eyes sank closed once again.
Ah well, he supposed it could keep until morning.