Playgrounds

By Kay

Disclaimer: Your mom owns TMNT. I'm not your mom. I think.

Author's Notes: Because the world needs more Mikey and Leo interaction! This is very much based off of the Volume Four comics, as well as a Tales of TMNT comic that's come out recently. But if you don't follow the comics, it's not hard to grasp. Basically, the boys are able to walk around outside in public for the first time in their lives because the Earth learns to welcome alien life forms, thanks to the Utroms. So in one comic, they are outside playing baseball. And... well. This was born. I'm not sure if it's crack or cute or whatever.

Hope someone enjoys it and thank you so much for any feedback!


Mike stops asking Leo to come with them after he realizes his brother spends pretty much the whole damn time up in the tree branches. What good is going outside in daylight if you're not going to actually step into the sun? While Raph is pitching baseballs to Donny, and they're unpacking the cooler for lunch, Mike has to twist his head this way and that, listening for the slight rustle of leaves. When people pass by and wave hello to the "aliens" timidly, they only see three. There's four.

There's four, but not really sometimes.

"I don't like it," is what Leo tells him, when he asks. He's frowning in that way that tells Mike that Leo doesn't particularly want to answer the question. "It's nice the first few times, but it feels weird. I don't have anything to prove, anyway. If I need to go out, I'll go out."

Mike sulks, and thinks about it, and sulks some more.

It's not like he's worried or anything. Just because Leo's been spending more and more time underground since their father's death—well, okay, that's reason enough to worry. It's normal for Leo to bury himself in training and reading and cleaning up after his brothers. But Mike can remember, way back when they were little brats, how Leo had lit up the same way when they all talked about the surface—that Leo'd been the turtle with the dreams, too, of speaking to humans and figuring out what the magazine advertisements meant and all that history at their fingertips—

Honestly, sometimes Mike wonders where his big brother went. More often, he wonders when he'll bother to come back.

He asks again, and it must sound woeful enough to strike a chord because Leo cocks his head in that way that says something's wrong here. "Mike," Leo says gently, and it's stupid, but he almost feels like crying when Leo does, "would you like me to come with you next time?"

"You already do."

"Would you like me to play with you guys, too?"

No. It's not so much that as— "Don't you want to?"

Leo rolls his eyes. "No. You suck at baseball. You don't even know how to play it. If you're just doing it for the novelty, I'm not interested."

Mike has absolutely no idea what to say to that. He gapes, instead.

Leo taps his finger against his chin, thoughtful. "I've never liked baseball. It's kind of dumb. I mean, we didn't even like it when we were kids, what's up with it now? Raph looks like an idiot in that hat."

That's it? That's it?

Mike feels like his jaw might drop off.

"Mikey," Leo tells him, "look, don't get upset. I didn't think you wanted me around, that's all. Next time, we'll all have some fun. That's all right, yeah?"

And he gets up and leaves, and Mike wonders exactly when the hell his big brother came back and slipped through the door without any of them noticing.


A week later, Mike asks Leo if he'll go see the new James Bond flick in movie theaters with him.

Leo says that James Bond is a sexist, callous symbol of a dream long dead. But yeah, that sounds like fun.