Casey sighed like he was dropping several tones of weight off his back as he inhaled the smoke he had been craving all day.
New York was as stale and hard to breathe in as ever, so much so the cigarette smoke felt cleansing as it entered his lungs. It had been a long day of his teachers correcting his spelling all while telling him he couldn’t fake dyslexia to get out of doing work, followed by coming home to his dad being pissed off about work and taking it out on him, which was later followed by Donnie and Mikey pulling of four consecutive pranks on him within three hours.
Casey was tired.
He was always tired nowadays.
The only time he didn’t feel like he was dragging his feet was when he was in a fight or nearly falling off a seven story building.
Maybe that was why he had his legs dangling off a ten story building as he took a moment to exist away from everything.
From everyone.
It was hard enough to exist with his dad and the school and his friends not ever picking up on how close to his breaking point, but things had gotten worse lately.
Fighting didn’t feel like it used to.
Maybe because he was getting better at holding his own each time, or because he was beginning to feel numb to the hits landed on him. Either way, it was loosing the thrill and with the thrill gone Casey didn’t have much else.
He was sued to being tired, spent his whole life like that.
He was started to think there was nothing else.
Hence, he started smoking.
It didn’t help.
It didn’t hinder.
It just… was there.
There like the bruises and aching muscles, the tension in his back and the twisting in his stomach. It didn’t process as anything dangerous or pleasurable, nor anything that could have long standing consequences.
Lately nothing felt all that consequential.
He and Raph were growing apart.
That was fine.
April told him she wanted to focus on school work and then spent all her time with the others and didn’t study at all.
That was fine.
Karai tried to kill him again and nobody noticed.
That was… fine.
Casey finished the smoke down to the filter and lit up a second.
Maybe he should stop joking around as much, let some of his mental masks fall and show people around him how done he was.
Maybe he shouldn’t bother them with it.
Maybe they wouldn’t care, because if he was being honest he had started to drop his masks already.
People saw.
His teachers saw, asked him if everything was at home and told him the counsellor was there when he said moodily replied with ‘I don’t have a home’.
They didn’t check in on him after that, despite loose promises.
April had commented on him loosing a lot of weight and asked if his dad got fired again. She seemed to genuinely not know how to respond when he responded with ‘He’s earning more than ever’.
She didn’t bring it up even if he caught her staring at his body with furrowed brows and worry filling her eyes.
Casey Jones could take care of himself, everyone knew, and so she let him.
Casey wished someone would take over for him.
He was tired of being Casey Jones.
Raph offered to spar with him and when Casey gave a noncommittal hum he got frustrated and demanded a clear answer, which resulted in an argument and the two not talking for a week before eventually pretending nothing happened.
Y’know, like real men.
Cause Casey was such a man.
So manly.
He lit a third cigarette and let it burn out in his mouth, neither holding his breath nor purposely sucking in. Just letting in linger.
Casey wobbled a little as his exhaustion once again made an appearance.
He didn’t hold himself up and fell to his side on the ledge.
He didn’t roll over either side.
Someone called him.
He ignored it.
They didn’t call back.
Casey Jones.
“What a mess.”
A laugh rumbled out of him as he looked up at the empty sky.
He missed the farm house and how every star was clear as day, irony fully appreciated. He liked sitting on grass and working on odd jobs around an old and neglected house. He missed everyone checking in on each other after the horrors they had faced, gentle touches on backs as they said goodnight and eating dinner around the same table.
“Oh.”
He missed feeling like he was in a family.
“Damn.”
Casey laughed louder.
He laughed so hard his body shook and his lighter fell out of his hands and down the ten floors worth of height.
He stopped laughing.
He was too tired to cry and yet still he began to sob.
“Man. I’m a fucking man.”
The words were filled with hate.
Time passed, the streets loud bellow and his head throbbing with tension he couldn’t understand the origin of.
Someone called him.
He didn’t answer.
They didn’t call back.
Again.
Casey groaned as his mind helpfully remained him that he could just answer, that maybe they were calling to check on him and he didn’t answer and now he was fulfilling his own self imposed punishment and fears.
Casey thought about going to sleep and seeing where, or if, he woke up.
It wouldn’t be the first time and-
His phone rang again.
They called him twice.
Maybe even three times, if it was the same number.
Casey sat up and pulled his phone out.
He accepted and then threw it across the skyline when he heard the voice asking if he had any car insurance.
He laid back down and closed his eyes, wishing he still had his lighter so that he could finish the pack he stole from the bodega.
The last thing he remembered was thinking he had to go find his phone in the morning before he fell asleep, his fate unknown to himself and even God.
Mikey and Donnie were laughing together as they realised Casey had thrown his phone, probably realising they were pranking him again.
Then they head sirens faintly on the still going call.
As they went to tell the tigers they both had the strange feeling that something was about to change.
Something irreversible.