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Christmas in the lair was a cheerful time. Splinter insisted on bringing home gifts, so would venture topside to rummage through dumpsters and donation bins (“To Children in Need”… He’s certain that his boys qualify.) This year, he had lucked out. Raph had taught himself how to knit months ago with his practice sai, of all things, and scraps from unusable sweaters, but Splinter found a mostly clean, real ball of alternating pink and red yarn in the parking lot of a craft store. For his youngest, he knew Mikey would be happy with anything, but he also knows how much his son loves his… dubious foods, so Splinter had collected a variety of canned puddings and packaged candies that the grocery stores had thrown out for being past their expiration date. He felt a little guilty, but it was better than algae and worms for an evening, and everyone knows that those dates are just suggestions anyway. For Leonardo… he didn’t know. He already had the entire VHS collection of that space show he likes, and the merch is so old it’s hard to find. He was able to find a pair of lightly used fuzzy socks and a canister of hot chocolate, but he’s upset that the gift is so impersonal. He makes a mental note to start prepping his eldest’s gift for mutation day sooner rather than later.
His Donatello, though, is surprisingly easy to get gifts for. At the age of eight, he’s a surprisingly fast learner. He’s a much more accelerated reader than his brothers, and loves to learn. Splinter, of course, wants to foster that creativity, so books were often a successful go-to. This year, he found an animal encyclopedia behind the library, and it wasn’t even missing any pages. He brings it back to the lair on Christmas Eve, sends his sons to bed early, and starts wrapping their gifts in newspaper.
---
Donnie wakes up on Christmas morning to Mikey’s yelling.
“Don!” Mikey’s taking Donnie’s covers off him. “It’s Christmas!”
“’M aware, Mike,” Donnie tries (and fails) to wrestle his blanket back. “Wha’ time is it?”
“I dunno-“
“6:15 in the morning?” Donnie hisses, squinting at the alarm clock and turning to glare at his brother.
Mikey doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “I already woke Leo and Raphie up, we’re waiting on you to open presents!”
“I’m sure they loved that,” he groans, pressing his palms to his eyes. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Nuh-uh, I know your tricks!” Mikey grabs Donnie’s hand, dragging him up. “Presents now, you can nap later.”
Stumbling into the common area is a magical moment, even to Donatello’s sleep-addled brain. Everyone is still in their pajamas, including Splinter, who is wearing his plush leisure robe rather than the daily robe. His brothers, still rubbing sleep from their eyes, are still undoubtedly excited. Mikey’s passing out presents while wearing a Santa hat. Christmas lights (that Donnie was and is proud of his repair work on) was painting the room in alternating rainbows, making the usual damp and dingy sewer look… cheery.
Donnie doesn’t find it in himself to be upset with Mikey anymore.
He sits himself between Raph and Mikey, wiggling his fingers with excitement at the stack of presents, until his father gives the go ahead that they can start opening them, and they go ham.
Paper scraps are flying as Donnie carefully unwraps his presents. Mikey insisted that Donnie open his gift first, so he unboxes a framed purple and orange macaroni painting.
“It’s… really cool Mikey!”
“It’s us!” Mikey gestures to the different colors. “See?”
Donnie definitely doesn’t see. “I love it. You wanna help me hang it up later?”
Mikey nods excitedly before digging into his own presents.
Next, from Raph, is a knit purple hat with a puffball on top. Donnie smiles. He had suspected it since he accidentally woke up from a nap to his brother measuring the circumference of his head, to which Raph covered by making up something about “seeing how much of an egghead you really are.” He bumps Raph’s shoulder, pulling the hat on and smiling. Raph smiles back, softly.
Don opens his gift from Leo next, and gasps. “A GameFriend?” He leans to look at his brother in shock. “How-“
“It doesn’t work,” Leo says, like that matters. Tinkering with it to make it work is half the fun. “It fell out of some kids pocket into a storm drain a few months ago, I thought I would save it for Christmas.”
“I love it!” He explains, eyes sparkling. He cannot wait to try and get this thing to turn on. “I’m gonna start working on it later.” He gets up, hugging all three of his brothers. “I love all of them! Thanks, guys.”
“There’s one more, Donatello.” Splinter says, gesturing to one more hidden in the back of the tree. Donnie scrambles over, picking it up and smiling. From the shape and density (and his father’s habits) he knew it was a book, but the kind was a surprise. He rips the paper off and turns it to show the room.
“A zoological encyclopedia? This is great!” He beams at his dad, flipping through the pages.
“Um…” Mikey says. “What do those words mean?”
Raph rolls his eyes. “It’s a book about animals, genius.”
“Oooh, cool!” Mikey saddles up next to Donnie. “Is there a section on turtles?”
“Don’t you know enough about turtles by, you know, being one?” Leo asks, but he also peers over to glimpse at the pages.
“I’m just curious!”
“There’s a whole four pages on turtles, actually!” Donnie had flipped to the reptile section while they bickered, and the room went quiet. Raphael tried to appear uninterested, but even he was glancing over.
“Would you like to read it aloud?” His father offers.
“Ewww, I did not need to know that we breathe out of our butts.”
“Actually-“
“Can we just skip this paragraph?” Mikey whines.
Donatello sighs, making a note to read up on that later. He starts a different section. “’Sexual dimorphism in turtles makes itself apparent in quite a few different ways. Some methods of identifying the sex of a turtle include plastron curvature, tail length, size-‘”
Leo cuts him off. “Size? Like how you’re taller than the rest of us?”
“Um… I guess?” Donnie glances over the text. “Looks like that in most species of turtles, females are significantly larger than males.”
“Ha! Donnie’s a girrrrrl,” Mikey teases in a sing-songy voice. It’s true, While most of his brothers were around the same size, Donatello had a growth spurt a while ago that the rest of them just can’t seem to catch up to. Leo had always lamented his little brother having a whole head on him. Donnie… didn’t know how to feel about it. Sometimes he had growing pains, which sucked, but besides that, the worst part about it was standing out. Feeling different. He always thought that if he could choose, he would choose to be the same height as his brothers.
But… this changes things. He looks at the figures in the textbook, the male turtle drawing compared to the female one. If… if it was because he was a girl, he supposes it wouldn’t be so bad. He can’t be blamed for biological differences. And, honestly, he doesn’t think he’d mind. Even when Mikey teased him just now, he doesn’t feel insulted. Instead, something funny flutters in his chest and his face scrunches up. It might be a welcome change. Splinter mentioned wishing he had a daughter, once, when he was sick. So maybe even his father wouldn’t mind-
“That rule doesn’t apply to box turtles.” Splinter’s voice cuts through Donnie’s internal ramblings. “Trust me, I checked when I adopted you. You are all boys.”
Oh. That’s… that’s fine, Donnie thinks. It’s what was expected. Leo takes over reading out loud as Donnie zones out, while he wonders why he wishes his father didn’t check.
---
Seven years later, Donnie is fifteen, and everything makes sense.
She has access to the internet now, and after coming across the word “transgender” on one of her late-night Wikipedia deep-dives, she spent many, many sleepless nights reading testimonials from girls on the internet, academic articles, and doing a lot of thinking, she landed on the conclusion: Donatello is a transgender girl.
It’s a weight lifted that she hadn’t even noticed she was carrying. Confusion and bitterness that can all be stemmed back to that one Christmas all those years ago, just… gone. Replaced with relief.
That relief faded, though, when she realized that she now has to tell her brothers. She told April a few months ago, and April was supportive, even offering to teach Don how to do her makeup (they had a few sessions, and the only thing Donnie likes is the eyeliner), and using she/her pronouns in private. But her brothers are different. The four of them had always been a matching set; all turtles, all the same age, all boys. This knowledge would change one of those previously thought to be immutable facts, and Donnie can’t help but feel it would… just tear them further apart. Or, more specifically, tear her apart from them. And that’s not even mentioning Splinter.
But she can’t keep going like this. She’s hurt every time they call her “he”, or a “boy”, or a “brother”, and she’s starting to lash out. And obviously it’s hurting her brothers, because to them, Donnie’s angry at them for no reason. She hates it. Something has to give.
She decided to do it at Christmas dinner. It felt poetic.
April was there. One, because she had wormed her way into their family, and for emotional support. She nudges Donnie’s shoulder at a lull in the conversation, and she takes a deep breath.
“So-“ Her voice cracks, and she cringes. Attention is on her, though, so she clears her throat. “So, I’ve… discovered something. And I think it should be brought to the group’s attention.”
The room is dead silent. The clattering of plates, chewing, even the sound of breathing stops.
“Is… everything okay, my son?” Donnie flinches.
“Yes and no.” She steels herself, keeping her eyes in the middle of the dinner table. “I… It’s just… I’m a girl.”
…
“No, you’re not.” Splinter says slowly. “As I said-“
Donnie groans, and April squeezes her hand under the table. “I know, you checked, you do not have to remind me! I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I’m transgender. I’m a trans girl.”
Don still has her eyes set on a spot on the table, she refuses to look at her family’s faces. She hears Splinter gasp, Leo thumping his foot beneath the table, and the clatter of Mikey dropping his fork. She squeezes her eyes shut.
“April doesn’t look surprised.” Raph comments.
“I’ve known for a few months…”
“Months?” Raph stiffens. “You told her before you told us?”
“It was less pressure.” Donnie somehow forces out.
“Pressure? Pressure. Pressure for what? What did you think was gonna happen?”
“I don’t know, Raph, but even you should know that these things don’t always end well!”
“Yeah, but those are with shitty families!” Raph slams a fist on the table. “We ain’t perfect, but what, we wouldn’t kick you out or nothing.”
Donnie opens one eye, tentatively. “…Really?”
''Fearless?” Raph prompts.
Leo starts when he speaks for the first time. “Donnie, I… what Raph means to say is that we would still love you no matter what. Even if you’re our sister now.”
Donnie’s silenced by a familiar flutter in her chest.
“Yeah, dude! Er, dudette.” Mikey gets out of his chair to hug Donnie from behind in her chair. “Is that why you’ve been so mad lately?”
Donnie shoves Mikey away, relaxed by the familiarity of the action, and rubs her neck. “I mean… once I realized how bad masculine pronouns and titles made me feel, it’s hard to not focus in on it. ‘M sorry, I tried to not take it out on you guys since you didn’t know, but… it’s why I’m telling you now.
“And we’re glad you did.” Leo nods. “Right, Master Splinter?”
The room is suddenly tense again. Splinter is quiet for a long moment before standing up, gesturing for Donnie to do the same. She walks over to her father, and he gently takes her hand, looking into her eyes.
“Donatello. I am sorry for if what I said earlier hurt you.”
“Oh, uh, it’s fine. You were confused.”
“Yes.” Splinter nods. “But that is not an excuse for cutting you off in the middle of what was obviously an important explanation to invalidate how you feel.” He brings a paw to her face. “If you say you are my daughter, then you are. And I love all of my children, no matter what.”
Donnie sniffles, laughing at the sheer relief of all of it.
“So… pronoun check?”
Donnie wipes her eyes, turning to address Mikey. “She/Her. April tested a few on me, I don’t like anything else.”
Leo perks up. “Noted. Name change?”
Donnie shrugs. “I like all my nicknames just fine. I was thinking my full name could be Donatella? Still Italian, just one letter different.”
“That sounds perfect, Donatella.” Splinter pats Don’s shoulder, and as they all sit back down in their seats, she wonders why she was ever scared in the first place.