This couldn't be happening... this couldn't be happening... there is no way in Hell that this could be happening.

"Who did this?" The question was almost silent, not nearly loud enough to gather the attention of Michelangelo's brothers. In front of him stood his siblings, shouting at each other whilst being covered in ingredients that ranged from flour to minced garlic. "WHO. DID. THIS?!"

All at once, the shouting stopped. Dark blue, russet brown, and blazing neon green eyes widened at the scream, showing off the sudden fear and shock Mikey had brought upon Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael. Sharp, seething breaths stayed constant, even as Mikey stormed into the kitchen, his beak curled back and revealing his sharp teeth. Confusion, horror, and fury were harbored in the pupil-less gaze that Mikey held. Within seconds, Leo stretched out a cautionary hand, placing it on Mikey's shoulder in an attempt to calm the youngest Hamato down. Instead of doing so, however, Leonardo was met with a sudden grip of steel, shouting in pain as his arm was twisted, sending him landing on the floor with a resounding thud!

"Leo!" Donnie gasped, racing forward to help his injured brother. Beside him, Raph was staring at Mikey with a look unknown to either of them. It was almost like a mixture of anger, sadness, and... was that... guilt? "Holy Chalupa! Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, Don. It's nothing a little ice can't fix." Leo huffed, accepting his brother's help to stand. "Mikey, look, we didn't mean to mess everything up as much as we did. It's just-"

"When you left, we barely remembered half of what you said! We tried our best to memorize everything, but it just proved to be impossible for us!" Donnie finished, a look of embarrassment and shame on his face. The look did nothing to calm Mikey down, however, and the only thing the orange masked terrapin found himself doing was pointing to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Out." Mikey hissed, sneering even more upon seeing his brothers become even more confused. "DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?! I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!"

Brief yelps were followed by a flurry of colours flashing out of the area, leaving Michelangelo to himself. With one more slow look around, Mikey fell to his knees, counting every new break, crack, and dent that decorated the kitchen like battle scars, each one drawing a barrage of tears from the young ninja. Silent sobs soon turned into pain-filled wails, breaking the hearts of everyone else in the lair.

"Oh geez, we screwed up big time..." Donnie sighed, leaning against the back of the couch and groaning. "He's gonna hate us for a while."

"Oh please, it's Mikey we're talking about! He'll be perfectly fine in a couple o' hours!" Raph remarked, crossing his arms smugly.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Raph. That kitchen is pretty much Mikey's baby. Right next to his art supplies and his teddy bear, the kitchen is something Mikey would kill someone for destroying." Leo nervously reminded, feeling the scales on his arms raise slightly with every wail he was subject to hearing. "Messing up the kitchen is like killing a defenseless child in Mikey's eyes."

Raph grumbled under his breath, feeling a heavy shudder run under his shell as Mikey's wailing came to a sudden halt. Now it was nothing but silence, a silence that was so fragile, that even the slightest fall of a feather to the ground would break it. The atmosphere shifted and tensed, doing more so once Mikey walked through the pit, a stoic look on his face that stayed plastered there, even as he disappeared into his room, slamming his door and locking it to convey how much he refused to be disturbed.

"Hmm, let's see, "perfectly fine in a couple of hours" huh? Wanna make a bet to see your theory proven wrong?" Donnie asked sarcastically.

"Very funny, Brainiac. But I don't need ta make a bet. I know ma baby brother! He's predictable when it comes to bein' angry! He'll sulk for a little while, forgive us, and then go back ta being tha funky, happy-go-lucky kid he is!" Raph assured, placing a hand on Donnie's right shoulder. "You'll see. Everything will be perfectly fine."

"I sure hope you're right, Raphael." Leo muttered. "I really do."

The rest of that day was incredibly awkward, with Leo, Raph, and Donnie taking it upon themselves to right there wrong to the best of their ability, leaving Mikey to stay locked in his room. Even during the pizza call, Mikey stayed in his comfort area, leant against his bed as he held and stroked his beloved teddy bear. Whispered words of anger filled the silence in Mikey's room, not going unnoticed by the rat that was his father, whom had just so happened to be passing by. A knock on the door alerted Mikey to Splinter's presence, and he uttered a gruff 'Come in' before remembered he had locked the door. So, with a groan, Mikey stood, moving to unlock his door.

"Good evening, Michelangelo." Splinter greeted, taking note of how his youngest son responded with a halfhearted greeting of his own. "It seems that something is troubling you. Would you like to discuss it?"

Knowing that this was a commandment and not a request, Mikey solemnly nodded, leading Splinter into his room silently. The two then sat down on Mikey's bed, neither saying anything until Mikey was ready. With a deep breath, and a few tears, Michelangelo finally decided to speak. "They destroyed it..." he whispered. "They destroyed my beautiful baby..."

Splinter raised his eyebrows in surprise, pointing his ears forward to convey his interest. "What do you mean by this, my son?"

"The kitchen..." Mikey whimpered, wiping his eyes with a short sniffle. "They destroyed it! They tore it apart like animals! Everything I had worked so hard to keep in place is gone now!"

Such an explanation confused Splinter, but he didn't say it out loud. Unsurprisingly, however, Mikey was able to sense his master's confusion. "That kitchen... it's like a child to me. Whenever I'm upset, it's always there to help me in some way. It provides food, it provides comfort, hell, it's a way of life for me!" Mikey turned to look Splinter straight in the eye. "Master Splinter, when I'm in that kitchen, it brings out a side of me that I didn't even know existed until just recently! When I cook, it's like I'm pouring my soul into what I'm doing! Every ingredient, every movement, every turn, they all mean so much! Cooking isn't just a hobby for me, it's a way I can escape from reality! It's a passion, just like my paintings and drawings! And, if I can honestly compare it to something you understand, then all I can say is that... cooking, that kitchen... it's my meditation."

"Your... meditation?" Splinter inquired.

"Yeah." Mikey replied quickly, bringing his knees against his chest. "It's my safe haven. The place I disappear to when I can't handle who I am. When I'm in that kitchen, it's like I've entered another realm. When I'm in that kitchen, I don't see random foods that just go together, I don't see recipes that may or may not work, I see inspiration, I see love, I see joy, I see... it's like I see-"

"Yourself." A nod is what Splinter earned, and proud a smile appeared on the old rat's face.

"When I'm there, I don't see my flaws, I don't see my pain, I don't see my struggles. The only thing I see in there is my skill. That kitchen is... was... the very place I knew I could succeed. Where I could put my years of training to use; not just culinary training, but artistic training. Heh, and believe it or not, cooking even seems to bring out the ninja in me sometimes, too. Then again, cooking isn't necessarily my only escape." Mikey took a second to glance at a nearby wall, a twinkle appearing in his eyes as he did so. "Painting and drawing is also something I enjoy dabbling in."

"I see that you truly have found something that reveals your true self, my son. I am deeply sorry that your brothers have made such a mistake, but you mustn't forget that this is not likely to have been on purpose." Splinter lifted Mikey's chin so the two could once more make eye contact. "Did you happen to hear their side of the story?"

Mikey then blushed, clearing his throat as he pulled away from his father. "Well, uh... about that... I may or may not have heard them apologize... and then kicked them away immediately after..."

"Michelangelo." Splinter sighed in exasperation, shaking his head in a less than pleased manner. "Need I remind you that it is childish to hold grudges against those who mean no harm to you, if at all?"

"No, sensei." Mikey muttered, hanging his head low. "I just... lost my temper."

"Hmm. Mayhaps this is proof that I should separate you and Raphael for a while." Splinter mused, smirking at Mikey's horrified face.

"NO! It's not Raphie's fault! It's mine! I was angry to begin with!" Mikey cried, falling to his knees and grasping his hands togethering a pleading way. "Please don't keep me from playing with Raphie!"

Splinter chuckled lightly, placing a comforting paw on Mikey's head. "It is alright, my son. I will not keep you from interacting with Raphael." When Mikey cheered, Splinter's smile grew, but his next words were those of a stern- yet comforting -parent. "However, I do expect you to apologize to your brothers for your outburst. You have undoubtedly upset them in some way."

"Hai, sensei. I will." Mikey promised.

"Very well then. Now go, my son. The sooner, the better." Splinter urged, watching his son exit the room. Once the young ninja was gone, Splinter focused his attention to the area in which Mikey had looked at. Early on had Splinter concluded that there was something hidden in that wall that meant very much to Michelangelo, and part of him was tempted to see what it was. "But I must not. It is my son's personal space, and I would be doing him a disservice if I violated such a sacred thing."

From the pit, Splinter's sensitive ears caught the sound of his sons laughing and chatting happily, and he even swore that he heard Mikey squeal in delight. From the way the boys were talking, Splinter correctly assumed that his three older sons had done something to fix the kitchen beyond Mikey's imagination. Happy thoughts clouded Splinter's mind, and he stood, exiting the room, turning out the light, and closing the door slightly.

And if he had stayed just a little longer, Hamato Yoshi would have caught sight of the orange, glowing object that solemnly flashed in a constant pattern, peeking out from the wall it was hidden behind.

Almost as if it were a silent, lonely heart.