A soft gasp. “What is that!” Casey asked.
Leo paused, then turned. Casey Jones Jr. asked that question about a lot of things in the present - beach balls, ice cream trucks, glo-sticks, sunflowers - but the question didn’t usually sound so reverent. His eyes tracked Casey’s gaze to the nearby hydrangea plant poking over the nearby brick wall. A dozen bright orange monarchs weighed down the boughs.
“Butterflies,” Leo answered, trying not to smirk. Casey, apocalypse child as he was, still seemed awed by the simplest of things. “You like them?”
“They’re REAL?” Casey asked.
That caught Leo off guard. “- wait. You had butterflies in the future?” What kind of logic was that. They didn’t have sunflowers but they had butterflies?
“No--” oh thank god. “--but Master Michelangelo...”
Ah. Well, that explained everything, didn’t it. Mikey had drawn them, or described them, or told some bizarre story about them, and little Casey, who’d never even seen the goddamn ocean before, had chucked the insects into the same category as yetis and unicorns. Fake™ as hell.
“They’re so delicate...” Casey whispered, drawing closer slowly, afraid he’d startle them into flight.
A crunch sounded on the pavement behind them. “Sorry I’m late!” Mikey announced, straightening. “The line at the grocery store was so long, you wouldn’t believe--oh, hey! Butterflies!”
He set down his plastic bag and reached up as four insects broke from the group, fluttering around him. One landed on the large orange spot on his shoulder, and Mikey giggled, then opened one eye. “Sorry, guys,” he poked one long green finger at it. “No nectar here. I--whoa, Casey, you good, man?”
Leo whipped around. Casey had tears streaming down his cheeks, a thousand yard stare in his eyes. A shadow of loss and grief. Gently, Leo reached out, tapping him on the shoulder. “Case?”
Casey jumped, then crumpled at the touch.
“Sor--” Casey stammered, covering his eyes. “Sorry. I...”
“It’s okay.” Mikey said, quietly. They all knew a flashback when they saw one. “You wanna talk about it?”
“It’s nothing,” Casey assured them. “I promise.” He wiped the tears away, revealing a crooked smile.
“...Just a memory, that’s all.”