vocab_drabbles | 45: Loquacious - TMNT - Mikey

Title: The Loud One
Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Author: Apache Firecat
Rating: G/K
Word Count: 753
Characters/Pairings: Michelangelo
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Michelangelo is more than the youngest, the orange-banded brother, or the nunchaku one. He is also the loudest one.

"And then I -- " Mikey said, continuing the stories he'd been excitedly relating to his brothers ever since they had rescued him on this latest adventure.

"Give it a rest, Michelangelo!" Raphael snapped, irritated.

"He's just weary," Donatello offered in a gentle, quiet voice, "but it would be better if you were not always so loquacious -- "

"What's that mean?" Mikey asked, almost jumping up and down between his brothers. "Excited? Exciting? Heroic? Cute?" He grinned widely and would have batted his eyelashes had he had any. "Streetwise? Cool?"

"Talkative," Leonardo snapped. "Look, Mikey, it's nothing personal. We're just all tired. It took a lot for us to find you this time -- "

"Yeah. Next time, you're on," Raphael snapped. Although they all knew he didn't mean it, his words nonetheless cut deep, sorrowing and solemnizing his little brother. Although they had all been born, or rather created, practically at the same time, it was the general consensus amongst the group that Michelangelo had always been the youngest. The other three sometimes very earnestly wished that he would grow up for no matter how much they loved him, their baby brother could be considerably exhausting, especially when they already exhausted from having hunted throughout New York City to find him and then battled a clan of Krang to rescue him from his own foolish, juvenile misadventures.

"He didn't mean that, Mikey -- " Leo started.

"Aw -- " Raph cursed and made a shooing motion at them with his hands. He turned and walked away, preferring some quiet time alone than having to listen to his brothers, and especially prattle, on until they reached their lair.

To Michelangelo's credit, however, he did not speak another word throughout the remainder of their journey. He did not speak when their beloved Sensei welcomed him home, nor when he chastised him for being gone so long. He did not speak until he walked into Raphael's little area and crouched down beside his pet turtle, who, as usual, was nibbling on a leaf. Mikey's stomach rumbled suddenly at the sight of someone eating. "Even that looks good," he moaned. He was going to have to tiptoe back into the kitchen and try to fix something as quietly as he could, because he knew everyone was tired of him. For now, he placed a quieting hand on his plastron before sliding down to the floor and becoming eye level with the four-legged turtle.

He watched Spike for several long minutes as Spike chewed quietly on his leaves. "How do you do it?" he whispered, even then eager to keep his voice low and not disturb anyone. "He never yells at you. None of them do. How do you do it, staying all quiet all the time?" When Spike simply continued to graze, Mikey asked, "Is that how you do it? You just eat all the time? Keep something in your mouth all the time?" He pressed his beak together in contemplation. "If I could stay in pizza, I could do that, but I can't do it with that algae and worms mess." He made a face, and a barfing noise overtook him.

Pizza really was a miracle, and he was thankful to the Maker for it, but his problems were still far from over. He still didn't have any friends. His brothers could barely stand him. Michelangelo dropped his head for a moment and only lifted it again when he felt Spike move closer to him. The pet turtle dropped a leaf in front of him. "Aw! Thanks, little dude!" Mikey gently scratched his head and shell before pushing the leaf back toward him. "But you eat it. I've had enough green stuff to last me a lifetime! I need pizza!"

His stomach rumbled loudly again. Mikey bounced back up to a standing position and was almost out of Raphael's room before he remembered the whole reason his adventure had began in the first place. "Oh." His face fell again. "I almost forgot," he mumbled, fishing into the top of his shell. Finding the rolled comic book, he walked back over to Spike and tossed the signed comic down beside him. "Don't eat that," he told the pet. "It's his favorite issue too. Let him think it came from you."

"Now -- " He turned around, his stomach practically roaring, and rubbed his hands together. "Pizza!" He raced from the room, leaving Spike continuing to chew leaves quietly behind him. Spike gulped down a big bite, looked at the comic, shook his head, and kept on eating.

The End