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Raph wasn’t a good cook.
Their dad had stopped cooking sometime after he’d turned eight. Raph wasn’t a good cook, but he was the oldest, and he was tall enough to reach the stove, and old enough to know how it worked. So, when their father stopped, Raph took up the mantle. Didn’t mean his brothers appreciated it as much.
“Don, ya hafta eat.”
Donnie shook his head, turning his nose up at the… well, it was supposed to be eggs and bacon, but the bacon was burnt and the eggs were little more than a tasteless lump. “I want Dad’s breakfast!”
Raph swallowed down the frustration. Donnie was only seven, he and Leo and Mikey didn’t know any better. They didn’t understand why their dad had stopped cooking. Honestly, neither did Raph… He just knew that his father trembled and shook when he got too close to the oven, that he dropped things, and that one day Raph had taken the pan from his hands and had told him it was okay and that he would do it. He had just patted Raph’s head, and gone to sit in front of the tv.
That had been the most affection Splinter had shown him since he was little.
So, Raph kept cooking. Bringing Splinter his dinner in front of the tv, and settling his brothers’ meals at the table.
“Dad ain’t cookin’ today,” Raph said firmly. “Ya gotta eat, Dee.”
Donnie looked at Raph, expression filled with distaste. Raph knew he didn’t mean to be difficult, but he was trying so hard.
He couldn’t let them see that, though. “You’ll go hungry if you don’t eat.”
Donnie huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
Leo and Mikey had scarfed theirs down, and now watched quietly.
“I’d rather go hungry,” Donnie sniffed. The thought of eating it made his stomach churn.
Raph sighed and took Donnie’s plate over to the fridge, “it’s in here if anyone gets hungry later.”
“Can’t I have cereal?” Donnie ventured.
“You had cereal all week. It’s not good for you, Dee. Too much sugar.”
Donnie looked away, over at Leo. They looked at each other for a moment, like they were communicating in that little twin way of theirs that Raph never understood. They always seemed to know what the other was thinking. It freaked him out, sometimes.
“Care to share with the family?”
Leo looked at him, letting out a little chirp, “Can we get groceries soon? He’d eat fruits if you got him fruits this time. Just nothing too sticky.”
Raphael sighed, “Fine, we can get some fruits.” It would be good for them anyways. “I’ll ask Dad.”
“Can we go play?” Mikey asked, fluttering her lashes at Raph pleadingly, giving him her best puppy eyes. “I was making a tower with my crayons.”
“Alright, alright. Go play. Donnie… try and eat some toast, okay? I can put something on it for you? How about peanut butter?”
Donnie wrinkled his nose and latched onto Leo’s arm.
“Too sticky,” Leo said. “No jam either, butter is too greasy.”
Raph sighed and grabbed the cereal, “Fine. Just until we get some fruits, but you have to eat those when we get them, okay? I don’t wanna see no mouldy fruits in that fridge.”
Leo glanced at Donnie, then nodded for him. “He’ll eat them! Promise!”
Raph poured Donnie a bowl of cereal. It was one of the few things he couldn’t screw up, at least. And Donnie was eating something, that’s what was important. He’d eat his leftovers later so they didn’t go to waste. Raph didn’t mind his own cooking, at least. And Leo would eat anything that was put in front of him. Mikey didn’t like it, but she ate it.
Donnie was clearly hungry, because he ate fast, and Raph felt a pang of guilt.
Sugar was bad, but going hungry was worse.
He couldn’t say no to that anymore. He didn’t want Donnie to be hungry.
“Alright, you two, go play,” Raph said when Donnie was done eating. He still had dishes to do, and collecting Splinter’s plate, which was one of Raph’s least favourite activities.
He slipped into the living room, quietly, listening to his dad’s laughter.
“Dad, are you done?” Raph asked.
Splinter looked at him, “yes, yes, of course, Green, thank you.”
He didn’t even know which one of his sons he was talking to, that’s always what he said when he wasn’t sure.
Raph sighed and took his plate, bringing it into the kitchen to wash. Leo and Donnie’s shrieks of laughter could be heard, and Mikey was settled nearby colouring a pretty tower.
Raph wanted to join them, but…
If he didn’t do dishes, the house started to smell. Then Donnie cried and refused to leave his room, and Leo gagged and locked himself in with Donnie…
Raph sighed and set the plates in the sink, wrinkling his nose.
He hated doing dishes, but his siblings were too young to make them do it. Besides, Raph would never put that on them. He was the oldest, it was his responsibility.
He could play later.
Leo didn’t want to go to school. He wanted to stay at home, with Donnie, where things were nice and safe and familiar. What if the other kids were mean to him? What if they thought he was stupid?
What if they were mean to Donnie?
Donnie was a little different than most kids, or, at least Leo thought so. Donnie wasn’t like him or Raph or Mikey. He went quiet sometimes and refused to speak, he didn’t like a lot of things, and he could already read. He was smart, and Leo had heard that sometimes kids were mean to others who were smarter than them. He’d seen it on their dad’s show too, two teenagers who were mean to the smart kid.
Leo hoped Donnie wasn’t like that.
He didn’t want anyone to be mean to his twin. He’d have to fight them all!
He clung to Donnie’s arm as they walked, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest and the tightness in his throat. The building was big, bigger than their little home by far, and tons of children bustled around outside.
The bus had been scary enough, at least he had been able to sit with Donnie, with Raph right behind them. But this?
Leo wanted to make friends. He wanted to talk to other kids his age, and make them laugh! He got along with all the older kids on their street, but there were so many of them, and everything was new, and loud.
And Raph had to go to his classes, meaning it was just him and Donnie.
“It’s loud,” Donnie whispered, pressing right up against his side. His face was pinched. Leo felt for him, he hated loud noises just as much as Donnie did. “There’s too many people. I don’t like it.”
Leo had to be strong, for Donnie. “I’m here,” he said firmly, “just hold onto me.”
Leo followed the lady calling for kindergartens, and pulled Donnie into line to be sorted into their classes. He hoped he and Donnie were in the same one, he didn’t want to think about what it would be like if he and Donnie had to be in different classes.
That would be crazy.
“Leonardo Hamato, with Mrs. Rose. Donatello Hamato, with Mr. Oak.”
What?
Leo had to have heard wrong.
“Excuse me, there’s been a mistake.” Donnie piped up, “Leo and I can’t be separated! We’re twins! He- he…”
“I don’t make the classes, get into your lines.”
Leo hated her. Hated everyone around them. It made anger course through him in a way that made him tremble. Why would they separate him and Donnie? Didn’t they know they had to be together?
Didn’t their dad tell them?
Leo spoke for Donnie when the world was too much, and they clung to each other when nothing else was going right. Donnie told Leo all about his inventions and plans, and Leo didn’t understand, but in turn he told stories for Donnie about two twins on grand adventures.
They… they couldn’t be separate.
But Leo didn’t want to ruin this for Donnie.
Donnie was so excited to go to school and learn, and… and Leo couldn’t take that away from him.
So, Leo straightened up, forced his face into something more calm, and pulled away from Donnie. He made his way into his separate line.
Donnie looked at him, confused, then afraid, and made his way into his own line.
Leo could do it. As scary as school was, he had to be brave.
For Donnie.
When Leo made his way out for recess, he ran.
All the classes got recess at the same time, which meant that Donnie would be outside too!
He skidded to a stop, glancing around.
Leo had been angrier more in one day than he had in what felt like his whole life.
Three people stood over Donnie, and he was crying, his knees pulled up to his chest, hands shaking. Leo could tell he wasn’t able to speak just from the way he tucked his chin.
“Hey!” Leo stormed in between them, glaring, “Leave him alone!”
“Who are you?” The girl asked, “his boyfriend?”
“I’m his brother, and if you don’t leave I’ll hit you!”
She scowled, “Fine, whatever. Nobody wants to be near a freak anyways.”
Leo watched furious as she strode off, then turned and crouched next to Donnie.
“Did they hurt you? Just shake your head.”
Donnie shook his head. Good, Leo would have followed them just to punch them.
Leo wrapped his arm around him, pulling Donnie against his chest. “I’m here now, it’s okay.”
Donnie whimpered, clutching at the fabric of his hoodie. “They-they were so… so mean! I just wanted to be friends…”
“Hey,” Leo frowned, looking down at Donnie, “they don’t deserve you. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend.”
“I wish we were in the same class,” Donnie nuzzled up against his neck. Leo could feel his hoodie getting soaked through, but he didn’t mind. “Then nobody could yell at me when I stopped speaking, and no one would be mean to me, and… and you’d be there!”
“Well, you know what,” Leo tilted Donnie’s chin up so he was looking at him. Not in the eyes, just up at his face.
“What?” Donnie sniffed.
“One day, we’re gonna get married. Then no one can separate us ever again. Okay?”
Donnie looked at him skeptically, “you promise?”
“I promise! We’ll be together forever, right? That way no one can stop us. And I can talk for you, and tell people off when they’re mean.” Leo beamed, “we’ll be happy.”
Donnie giggled, and a small, shy smile stretched across his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That would make me happy.”
Donnie could barely breathe. His nose was clogged, his head hurt, and he couldn’t stop sleeping.
His dad didn’t seem to care.
He came in twice a day to give Donnie his medicine, and then he left.
It was Raph who made him soup. He’d gotten a little better at cooking, but not by much. It was Leo who cuddled him even though he knew he was going to get sick too. It was Mikey who drew Donnie pictures and cards that all told him to get well soon.
Donnie… didn’t understand.
My dad doesn’t help me when I’m sick, he googled on his iPad.
He’d made it, from spare parts he got at the junkyard that his father didn’t care he was visiting. His father hadn’t been excited about the iPad either.
So, Donnie learned about neglect.
He learned that parents with their own untreated issues often neglected children. And reading through, it seemed his father was depressed.
Donnie frowned. He knew he couldn’t get his dad to go to therapy, but maybe… maybe if he didn’t have to worry about Donnie anymore he could be less depressed.
Donnie waited that night for his father to come into his room. “I can do it!” He said happily, “I remember the measurement.”
“Really? Show me.”
Splinter watched in vague interest as Donnie measured out exactly a tablespoon into the little cup, and gulped it back.
“Well,” Splinter ruffled his hair, “aren’t you smart?”
“I can do it by myself now!”
“Well…” Splinter hesitated. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure!”
Donnie waited until his father left before shuddering at the taste, setting aside the bottle. He curled up with his iPad to watch movies.
Her dad never seemed to care what Mikey said. She told him once, about not feeling like a boy or a girl sometimes, or how sometimes she only felt like one, sometimes like both.
It was Donnie who had overheard and told her about being genderfluid, and that seemed to fit the most.
Sometimes she was a girl, sometimes a boy. Sometimes neither and sometimes both.
It was then Mikey learned she couldn’t trust their father. He had dismissed something that Donnie said was a serious topic, he had just told her it would go away.
It did not go away. And it wouldn’t, according to Donnie and his iPad. It was something that would only get more prevalent as he got older.
Their dad… didn’t care.
No matter how well Mikey drew, no matter whether he painted on the walls or the sidewalk or paper. He didn’t scold Mikey, didn’t praise him. Any of them.
So, Mikey learned to rely on his brothers.
Splinter relied on the tv to forget the trauma, and in turn, forgot about his own children.