Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lou was awoken by the echoing, eerie sound of water dripping.

Mumbling, he flopped over. He stretched his pink, knobby rat limbs that he was still getting accustomed to, and grimaced as the cold, dank sewer air touched his skin. Sitting up, his ears twitched and managed to catch a low thundering sound coming from above, confirming his suspicions that it had started raining. The resulting dampness and chill in the air immediately set off the new protective urge in him, accompanied by only one thought:

The babies.

He immediately got up from the ragged blanket mound he called his bed and stumbled forward. The shack he had fashioned out of scraps of metal and planks of wood in the sewer tunnel was seeming to hold up okay with the leaking water. It was small, though, so didn’t take long for him to arrive at the side of the old, paint-chipped baby cradle he had scored in a nearby dumpster not too long ago. It was lined with the softest blankets and pillows he could find, including one draped over the top, carefully encompassing his precious keeping inside. As he drew nearer, he heard small chirping noises that made his heart seize.

The past few weeks had been some of the darkest and most confusing of his life. He had constantly been on the run, trying to evade Big Mama's search force and pretty much anything mystic in general. All the while, he had felt horrifying, uncomfortable changes happening to his body as he found himself resembling more and more like a rodent than he had the day prior. Amongst all the horror, however, were these four little spots of light and joy.

He didn’t know exactly what had urged him to pick up the baby, mutated turtles he had found on the floor of the destroyed lab that day, by whatever it was, it had continued to give him drive and purpose.

Keep them safe. Feed them. Keep them happy.

Those thoughts made his day to day bearable. And something akin to what he assumed was paternal love started to drench his heart like gasoline each time he looked at them.

Now was such an occasion as he lifted the blanket off of the cradle.

Little black, beady eyes blinked up at him, followed by small coos and gurgles.

The babies had been growing at a speedy rate. While a few weeks ago they could’ve fit in the palms of his hands, they were now almost the size of dinner plates (with Red being a large platter). It must be their turtle-half compromising with their human half (their Lou Jitsu half?), which was only one of many inferences and questions Lou had about their biology. All he knew for certain was that they were babies, and babies that every part of him screamed to protect.

For his own sake to help tell them apart (though he acknowledged he had noticed they were different species and could just quit being lazy and memorize the small detailed differences on them) he had color-coded them by placing small sticker dots on their shells.

The baby with a purple sticker was curled up in the corner of the cradle, looking rather displeased to have been woken up. That made Lou chuckle a bit. He was starting to get a grasp on their personalities, and Purple seemed to have the most attitude. Which unfortunately manifested itself in fussiness most of the time.

In contrast, Orange was rocking back and forth on his shell, small little hands clutching his small little feet. He gave a big, toothless smile up at Lou which he couldn’t help but mirror.

That smile quickly faded, however, as his attention turned over to Red and Blue. Red appeared to be upset, all his focus directed on the brother held in his embrace. Blue, normally an energetic, attention-seeking baby, was curled up in a ball, trembling slightly. The baby’s quiet whimpers could be heard if one listened carefully.

Lou’s frown deepened. Something was definitely wrong.

He reached in a hand to examine Blue closer, but was forced to flinch away as Red snapped violently towards Lou’s finger. He watched, bewildered, as Red then held Blue tighter against himself.

That was new. The babies had accepted him easily as their caregiver, giving him immediate trust and affection that he couldn’t help but feel he didn’t deserve. But now he was seeing their protective love for each other surpass that as Orange and Purple, getting some understanding that something was wrong with Blue, crowded around him protectively as well.

The boys weren’t biologically related as turtles. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out. But the deep love and physical affection that Lou has observed between them had put him in awe. They acted like brothers. Perhaps, that horrible night they had been mutated had connected all five of them in a way they didn’t fully understand.

Knowing he needed to be persistent because Blue could very well be suffering some sort of chill, he reached in a hand again, this time attempting first to stroke Red’s back. He growled slightly as his hand came close.

“It’s alright, Red. I just want to look at him and help him feel better. I won’t hurt him, you know that. I love you all.”

He victoriously landed a finger on Reds spiny shell and began to stroke it.

“I just want to see him… will you let me borrow your brother?” He whispered.

The stroking seemed to do the trick and Red slowly relaxed his grip on Blue. Orange and Purple thankfully followed his lead, though they still watched him with wide, fearful eyes as he picked up their trembling brother.

Having the baby in his arms, Lou finally was able to get a better look at what was going on.

Blue was the most colorful out of the four, his pudgy, green limbs decorated with yellow stripes with two bright red marks crossed over his currently wet, tearful eyes. He fussed as Lou looked him over, brushing fingers over his little plastron and shell, which looked okay. His hand stopped, however, when it reached his forehead.

Cold fingers met hot, clammy skin, causing him to curse quietly. Blue trembled under his touch and Lou only now noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed. Lou sighed. It seemed the rainy weather, or more likely the unsanitary conditions of the sewer, had introduced Blue to his first human illness.

Blue continued to wail as Lou held the fevered turtle against his shoulder, shushing him as he quickly reached down and felt each of his brothers, relieved to find they were normal temperatures. Pulling the surrounding blankets around them and satisfied that they were warm enough, he walked to the corner of the hut where he kept his supplies.

Ignoring the panicked cries of the three remaining babies having lost sight of their brother, Lou rummaged through his collected items until he found some water, powdered formula, and a baby bottle. Lou was no doctor (or veterinarian, for that matter) but he did know that warmth and hydration were key components of treating fevers. He didn’t dare tread into the realm of medication (how do you measure dosage for a mutant animal infant?) but he found a small flame of confidence in himself that he could help this baby fully recover.

Grabbing a thick blanket from his bed, he swaddled the baby as best he could, and, moving within sight of the cradle to comfort his worried brothers, sat down cross-legged on the ground. Under the watch of curious eyes, he combined the contents of the formula with the water in the bottle. Lou was glad to see they had snuggled deeper into the blankets around them and appeared to be drifting off to sleep, despite their worry.

Thunder rumbled over head as he gently rocked the fevered baby in his arm and pressed the bottle to his lips. Leftover tears fell down Blue's face as his eyelids slipped down halfway over his eyes, seemingly comforted by the new, warm position he found himself in.

When he finished the bottle, Lou set it down, and carefully drew the blanket tighter around the infant.

“Oh Blue… why did you have to go and make yourself sick? You’re making my job very hard.”

Blue, drowsy and flushed, responded with a small chirping noise from deep within his throat that Lou had learned to associate with contentment.

Lou couldn’t help but smile as the chirping continued, and he felt something start to rise from his own throat. An old, simple, Japanese lullaby filled the shack as he rocked the turtle back and forth. Memories of soft hands and loving kisses as someone hummed the same song to him long ago flooded his mind with warmth and sadness.

With his emotions almost overwhelming him, he looked up to the ceiling. “Can you believe it, mother? Your crazy little Yoshi… who ran around causing trouble… and thought his call in life was to be a stupid movie star... He’s—.” He again looked down at the little one in his arms, warm tears beginning to blur his vision.

He hiccuped. “He’s a father. And he loves his babies so much. Isn’t that crazy?”

The thundering rain continued outside, but as far as Lou was concerned, he could only hear the soft murmurs and chirps of four sleepy turtles.

Chapter Text

13 years later

“Leo, you are literally going to be the death of me.”

“You honor me, dear brother, but I am reserving myself to be the death of only my archrival kartklasher265 on Mario Kart. Everyone else will have to wait in line for that position.”

“Ok, you definitely are delirious.”

Splinter chuckled at the conversation between Leo and Raph he was overhearing as he made his way towards Leo’s bedroom. It was soon his turn to take over Raph’s shift at Leo’s side, but he would let them have a few more minutes together.

Raph’s voice sighed. “Just… please don’t scare me like that again, ok? When you collapsed, I thought…”

“Bro, it's ok. I’m ok, see? Also you know I’m going to die in a way cooler way than by falling into some sleeping-beauty-turtle-nap—“

“It’s called brumation. And it’s dangerous, Leo.”

“Yeah, yeah ok…”

Lou frowned at the memory Raph was referring to. Two days ago the boys had been playing hockey with Cassandra on a freezing January afternoon when Leo had suddenly collapsed. Having rushed him home in a panic, Donnie’s tests revealed he was dangerously close to brumating from the cold. While normally that biological response would be a means of survival for turtles, mixed with their human DNA it manifested itself as a deathly coma. Their quick treatments had thankfully pulled him out of the danger zone, but he had since been sluggish, feverish, and weak.

The past couple days they had been taking turns staying at his bedside, making sure he was drinking enough water, staying warm, and didn’t try to make any escape attempts from his bed. The mood around the lair had been solemn and slightly anxious, but Leo appeared to be recovering, which was all that mattered.

Splinter entered the doorway to see the brothers sharing a tender moment, Raph’s back to him. The elder brother had reached over the bed-ridden slider, taking his limp hand in his own. Leo smiled softly, stroking his thumb over Raph’s. The moment was quickly interrupted, however, when a deep shudder racked Leo’s frame, causing him to pinch his eyes shut.

Raph frowned, releasing Leo’s hand to pull the blanket higher up over his shoulders, covering his arms. “We gotta keep you under the covers, little bro.”

Leo gave a small hum in response, his shivering calming down a bit. Raph smoothed the blankets until he was satisfied his brother was covered completely, then checked the alarm clock on the bedside table. “I’ll go get Dad, it’s his turn to come sit with ya. Get some rest, alright?”

“Alright…” he responded, his voice uncharacteristically tired and soft.

Raph gave his brother one last loving pat on the head before getting up to leave. Splinter quickly backed into the hall, not wanting them to know he had witnessed their private brotherly moment. Raph soon turned the corner and jumped a bit.

“Ah. Hiya, pops. Ready to switch shifts?”

Splinter had to tilt his head high in order to smile up at his son. He had never quite gotten used to the extreme height difference, even after all these years. “Yes, my son, I’m ready. How is he doing?”

Raph rubbed a hand over his face and glanced back in the direction of the bedroom. He looked tired, the lines on his face evidence of all the worrying he had been doing the past few days. “He’s doin’ alright, his fever has gone down a bit. I got him to eat a bit of soup but maybe you can help him finish the bowl. He’s pretty tired and out of it, though, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep on ya in the first five minutes.”

Splinter chuckled. “Not to worry. Now go, get some rest. You look dead on your feet.” He stepped forward and patted his son’s arm, then added, “You’re a good older brother, Red.”

Raph smiled at the familiar nickname and squeezed his father’s shoulder in response, taking his leave down the hallway towards his bedroom.

When Splinter entered, he found the slider had disobediently pulled his arms out from under the blanket again, reading a comic that had been on the side table. Splinter managed to make it to his bedside without Leo noticing, (evidence that he was a little slow on assessing his surroundings at the moment) but he finally blinked up blearily when Splinter placed a hand on his arm.

Leo gave a lopsided grin. “Heyyy padre.”

Splinter gave a tired smile back. “Good evening, Blue. How are you feeling?”

He tilted his head back and let out a deep breath. “Honestly? Like crap.”

“That is to be expected. You sure enjoy taking years off of your family’s life, don’t you, son?”

Leo mumbled something that sounded like it was attempting to be a witty remark while Splinter moved his hand up to his son's forehead. It was still overly-warm, but like Raph has said, not nearly as bad as before.

He sighed. Leo has always been the most susceptible to the cold and illness, it seemed. Whether it was his turtle species, his immune system, or just his recklessness, Splinter couldn’t pinpoint which.

Splinter’s thoughts were interrupted by a tug on his sleeve. He looked over to find Leo making weak, grabbing motions towards him, the comic book forgotten on his lap. When he looked at his son’s face he saw that Leo had a tired expression, with his eyes begging a silent plea.

Splinter resisted the urge to giggle at the sight. If a fully awake and healthy Leo were to see himself now, he would've watched in horrified embarrassment. Even so, the “I want cuddles” message couldn’t be more clear.

Having no choice but to obey, Splinter slipped up onto the bed, his back against the bed rest. He adjusted Leo so his head laid against his chest like a pillow, and he wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders.

Leo sighed and melted into his father’s embrace, snuggling in closer.

Splinter took the opportunity to rock him back and forth slightly, humming a lullaby. As they sat there, Splinter could almost hear the sound of rain pattering above on the city streets as memories stirred within him…

...a feverish baby slider swaddled in his grasp, while other little turtles watched from between the bars of an old cradle… a soft sound purring from within the blankets in his arms…

A chirping sound drew him from his reminiscing, and he looked down, surprised to find it coming from the fourteen-year-old boy in his arms rather than the baby within his memories. Splinter felt tears prick his eyes as he stroked his son’s cheek. He hadn’t heard any of them make these little sounds of contentment since they had been very small… they had quickly opted to just use english to express themselves instead of turtle noises. But it seemed in this moment, something about being sleepy and safe in his father’s arms had awoken that instinct again in Leo.

Splinter whispered softly. “You know, Blue, you got sick once when you were very little, too. And I held you close just like this...”

He received a quiet snore in response.

Splinter continued anyway, pulling the blanket up closer around his sleeping son. “I remember feeling so happy I was your father at that moment. And even though you’re too big for me to carry around now, I hope you know that you’re still my little baby Blue.”

Leo shifted slightly in his arms, pressing his face to Splinter's chest with a happy sigh.

He smiled as he was again reminded of the reality of the role he had acquired thirteen years ago, familiar gratitude warming his soul.

He was a father. How crazy was that?

Much like he had that day so long ago, he hugged and rocked his son until sunlight peeked through the crates and of the upper city.