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It was late and the last thing Raph was expecting was for his two younger brothers to come into his room unannounced.
And for the youngest to be holding a box that had 'anger management' written on it's front.
-*-*-
Donatello was up at midnight, not a surprise. Though, not because of a project (big shocker), but rather because he couldn't stop thinking about his immediate older brother, Raphael.
The red-banded turtle had blown up, not uncommon, but instead of making a snarky remark after like usual, he had left to his room with a weird look on his face.
He was an overthinker, and he might be overthinking this, but perhaps Raph is..sad. it wouldn't be a surprise, considering his pet turtle, Spike, turned into a big monster who almost killed them all.
Donnie sat up in his bed, knees to his chest and chin on his arms. He furrowed his eye ridges, trying to figure out what could have made Raphael end his blow-up differently. But that was the only conclusion he could come to, that his older brother was sad.
The turtle sighed, grabbing his bandana from his nightstand and wrapping it around his head. He sat up from his bed, striding to his door. He put his hand on the handle, just to jump back when his door opened suddenly.
"GAH!- Mikey, have you ever heard of knocking?!"
The mentioned turtle stared up at Donnie, an unusual look of seriousness on his features. He held a box, the room too dark to see what was in it or what was written on it.
Michelangelo sighed, walking to the middle of the room, placing the box down and coming back to the door to flip the light switch next to it. The room brightened, causing Donatello to squint and try to get his eyes to adjust to the sudden light.
"Something's up with Raph, I just know it," the freckled turtle grumbled, walking back over to the box–that seemed to contain many things, now see able thanks to the light–and sat in front of it.
The older raised an eye ridge, striding over and sitting next to his younger brother. He stared into the box, seeing things like plushies and knitting supplies.
He didn't question where any of the stuff came from.
"I think so too." Donnie glanced at Mikey, who was almost unrecognizable with his serious demeanor. He put his gaze back on the box, now seeing that words were written on it.
The words 'anger management' to be exact.
"He just..walked away! Walked. Away. You saw that, right Don?! Raph walked away!" Mikey exclaimed, dramatically throwing his arms in the air.
"Yes, I saw," Don replied bluntly before deciding to question the box they sat in front of. "What's with the box full of stuff?"
Michelangelo instantly lit up. "Why, I'm glad you asked! We're gonna help Raph with his anger. Or what he shows to be anger."
The older brother stared blankly at the other. "Okay..why m- oh, yea. Okay." He didn't ask the full question, answering it in his own mind.
"Yea. Anyway, you're Raph's favorite as well so up and at 'em, Don!" Mikey grabs the box, striding to the door and watching as Donnie follows along, seemingly ignoring his younger brother's words. They leave Donnie's room, going through the lair until they arrived at Raphael's room. Mikey wasted no time kicking the door open and startling the turtle on the other side.
-*-*-
Raph was fine.
Okay, that's a lie. He wasn't fine.
He wanted Spike, not Slash. Not the monster his pet turtle turned into. Not the barbaric creature that the only person-or animal-he could talk to turned into.
He sharply sighed, hugging his legs tightly, frown apparent on his face. His hands and shoulders shook ever so slightly.
No. Stay calm. No crying.
Raph's eye ridges furrowed, and he wrapped his bandana tightly around his head. He turned and let his legs touch the ground, ready to stand before he jumped in surprise at his door being suddenly opened. He squinted at the lights being turned on.
"Raph!"
"Do you have any common decency, Mike?!" The hot-head hissed, staring angrily before his face slightly softened as he saw Donnie. "Oh, and hey, Don."
Donnie waved as he and Mikey walked in. The youngest plopped down on the floor, box making a thud as it came down with him. The red-banded turtle raised an eye ridge, sliding down to sit next to the purple-banded turtle once he did.
"Alright, Raphie, we gotta figure some stuff out. Remember how you ended your blow up differently?" Michelangelo didn't wait for a response. "Well, me and Don here seemed to think you're hiding something behind that anger-built wall you've put up."
The mentioned turtle just blinked, unable to respond. He glanced at the box and the items within. Before he could speak, his younger brother beat him to it.
"Yea, we wanna help. Mikey has some anger management stuff, but uh, we're using it to help your sadness? And anger, I guess." Donatello shrugs.
Raph stares quietly at the box. His hands twitch before they reach into the box and pull out some knitting needles and wool.
"Ah! Knitting. Great choice," Michelangelo hums, scooting over to sit next to his big brother.
The hot-headed turtle just stares at the items with narrowed eyes before he slightly startles at a laptop screen being shoved in his face.
"I found a video on how to knit," Donnie explains.
Well. Time to get to work.
-*-*-
After many, many hours, Raph finally finished knitting his blanket.
It was big enough; though probably wouldn't be able to cover any of their toes. It was messy, but of course it was.
And the best part about it was that Raphael seemed calmer. Better.
"Well, good job, Raph," Donnie grunted, closing his laptop after it died about thirty minutes ago. "Now I can finally sleep."
The red-banded brother nodded, putting the blanket over Mikey, who fell asleep ages ago. He let his head rest on the wall, almost instantly falling asleep, his younger brother resting peacefully on his shoulder.
Donatello got up from the bed, shaking his leg which had a huge pins and needles feeling. He sighed, about to leave before stopping and turning. He smiled softly at the scene, happy to see that he could somewhat help with making his brother feel better. He opened the door, walking out the room and going back to his own.
Now he could sleep, knowing that Raphael felt better, and that he stayed up late NOT because of a project.
He checked the clock.
5AM.
Well, one hour of sleep is better than none.