Chapter Text
Mikey swayed on his feet in a sea of nausea. As his body bobbed over each crest, his head floated away until it plunged into the trough of the wave like a stone being thrown into water. Then as the crest of the next wave formed, his head bubbled up to the surface to repeat the process all over again. Truth be told, Mikey had been feeling this way for some time. It started yesterday morning when he accidentally ate floor wax, mistaking it for dessert, but the nausea wasn’t nearly this bad. After he threw up, relief pooled into his stomach, washing out the stains of nausea until the last little traces were wiped clean a half hour later. Then later that evening, Leo and Don forced him to eat floor wax in their plan to lure a prison guard to their cell under the guise of him being sick so they could steal the guard’s key card. Unfortunately for Mikey, this time vomiting did not provide the same relief. Something even worse had been brewing in his stomach, and his head also took a severe blow, too. However, Mikey had no time to let himself recover. Don’s homemade bomb had just exploded in the cafeteria, and they needed to escape now to save Raph. The urgency led to a surge of adrenaline which settled his stomach and focused his mind to complete the mission. Even when they failed and they were thrown into an arena to fight a hundred foot long slug with protruding tentacles and a mouth that could give Audrey II from Little Shop Of Horrors a run for his money, the adrenaline still kept Mikey steady so that he was able to run a wall with his brothers and backflipped off of it, tricking the slug monster into slamming its face and knocking down a statue over it. When he and his brothers were awarded for their victory by being forced to serve as practice dummies to six gladiator slaves, three of which were three times their size, the adrenaline continued to keep the nausea at bay so that Mikey could aid his brothers into humiliating their taskmaster Gruell and his guards.
But now the fights are over. The adrenaline has been metabolized by his liver, and his nausea came back in full force.
The ocean waves in his head became violent as they picked up speed and crashed against each other, forming a whirlpool. As stumbled and swirled across the floor, he caught the worried faces of Don and Leo. Good, a tiny, spiteful part of him thought, you should feel guilty. Besides being the cause of his suffering, they didn’t even have the decency to follow through with the plan. They were too busy playing “Worried Older Brothers” to even take advantage of the guard’s distraction so he had to steal the damn key card while battling nausea and vomit on his toes. Then to rub salt on the wound, it turns out that wasn’t even the real reason why they forgot. Leo and Donnie each thought the other was going to steal the keycard so none of them tried to steal it. They would have poisoned him for nothing if it weren’t for his quick thinking and ninja skills! If it weren’t for the dire situation and that he could barely stand, he would have slapped both of them upside the head harder than Raph has ever slapped him. Instead he settled for wishful retribution: Don, I hope your computer and all your back up discs catch on fire, and Leo, I hope you always trip during practice in front of Master Splinter. Serves you both right for poisoning your poor innocent little brother.
A sharp pain suddenly pierced the inside of his stomach like a knife. Mikey winced and clutched his abdomen. “Guys, I don’t feel so good.” Then, instead of bile and partially digested food, he threw up blood. Lots of it. “Oh that’s not good.”
Darkness clouded his vision, and somewhere in the distance, he heard Leo, Raph, and Don scream his name. The terror in their voices clinched his heart, making him regret his curse. As he succumbed into nothingness, he wished for two things: that his father was here to make him feel better and that Raph really appreciated his sacrifice.