Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mikey’s morning routine consists of the silly Taylor Swift song Leo picked out when they were little. It’s chirpy and all too upbeat for Mikey’s mandated six am wake up, so obviously perfect. Yes he has to get up that early. If anyone else in this lair tries to make breakfast he’ll be so offended it’ll make the news.

He stretches, momentarily unbalancing his hammock and pinwheeling his arms wildly, before flopping out and pulling on his mask.

The lair is quiet for now, with Raphie on his morning run with Casey and the twins determined to either sleep until noon (a good day) or emerge within the next couple hours groggy, and in Donnie’s case, overworked, or in Leo’s; smiling through another round of insomnia.

He doesn’t usually win.

But Mikey does!

And Mikey can provide the energy his big brothers need until they’re day actually starts.

Which is after breakfast.

Cracking eggs in a pan he dances around the kitchen, puttering to the speaker to plug his phone in, a shiny morning playlist ringing quietly through his workspace. Bread thrown in the toaster, color coded mugs grabbed and filled with juice. 

He’s content to eat his breakfast by himself and scroll through reels on his phone, enjoying the peace of the morning, ready to start eggs as soon as the bigger turtles amble into the kitchen.

Which comes faster than he expects.

At roughly just before seven Leo shuffles to the table, flopping onto a stool and resting his head in his arms. Another loss then.

“Hiya, Lee,” Mikey says, all charming little brother. He passes the blue unicorn mug of orange juice over, lets it spin on the table for fun and whimsy. “Ready for the day?” Cause he clearly didn’t sleep well so let’s not ask that.

“Hey, Angelo, no I’m not you’re hilarious.” Leo rubs his face on his arms, mask askew and purple, bruised bags peeking from beneath. 

There’s a spring tension in Leo’s body, Mikey notes, circling the table to sit next to him. Usually Donnie’s spot but hey, it’s a weird morning. Leo flicks a bloodshot eye to his baby brother and Mikey graces him with a glowing smile, trying to analyze what’s wrong with his crazy-cool brother powers. Because something is clearly wrong. Otherwise Leo wouldn’t be tense like that. All strung up and hunted.

But Mikey can’t ask him or he’ll clam up faster than his twin when Dad asks where an appliance went. Leo’s tricky and sneaky and guilty over things he doesn’t need to be, hiding his hurts when the whole family wants to help.

Unfortunately it’s been like that since they were freshly mutated adorable baby turtles. Closed doors to Lee’s feelings.

Coming and flopping at the table almost feels like a win for Mikey though.

Here’s Leo trying his absolute hardest to say he needs something. And now Mikey grits his teeth, frustrated he can’t figure it out.

What would Donnie do?

Analyze, gather data. But that’s so boriiiiiiiing—no no. Lock in. Leo hasn’t slept. Probably in days. Effects of going without sleep; irritability, sluggishness, more probably(?) and in Leelee’s case; this overhang of sadness. Like a rain cloud with nothing cool like rainbows or thunderstorms. Just an oversaturated gloom.

How to fix the problem?

Well what would Raph do? 

Baby brother in trouble. Hmmmmm.

Right!

Mikey jumps off his stool and Leo whips up too, startled. Then Mikey uses his baby brother privileges and wiggles into Leo’s arms, grabbing his shell and clinging tight. 

Hug out the bad morning and evil vibes and nightmares.

Leo, shocked for only a second but forever indulgent, snaps his arms into their rightful place out of instinct more than anything. Let’s out a shuddered breath that he sucks back in.

“Occasion Miguel?” he asks, performing. Needing this.

See Donnie Mikey can be right most of the time too!

“Just love you so much, Leo!” Mikey replies, sugar-bright. He tightens his hold, lifting Leo a little off the ground to hear him snort.

“Alright.”

Mikey only holds on as long as Leo needs him to, letting his big brother choose when to separate and sit back at the table. Sip his juice with an easy smile. A Leo smile. Then the box turtle scampers away to make sunny side up eggs with cheese and sausage. Because today is already a win.

All Time Champ of Today strikes again!

Mikey sings and dances all through prepping Leo’s breakfast, twirling around the kitchen to Leo’s delight. A Happydaze song starts from the speakers and they both sing along, so much energy expanding in their little kitchen, like a supernova of good vibes.

God Mikey is going to explode from sheer happiness alone!

“I love you, Lee!” he says again, because it’s important that Leo knows. Interrupting the song to do it. Leo stops tapping his fingers on the table long enough to fix Mikey with an incredulous look.

“I know, you said it literally four songs ago?” But his voice is breathy with laughter and pleased. 

“Good,” Mikey states, hands on his hips. “Hear it again. Forever and ever.”

Leo snorts again, digging into his toast.

When the older two finally join them in the kitchen the energy reaches maximum capacity and not a single bad thing could possibly exist at eight in the morning. Donnie didn’t even stay up all night, a miracle truly.

Raph grabs his plate and washes the sweat from his run off his hands, digging in with clear gratitude and affectionate head rubs for Mikey, who has to protest out of principle. 

Donnie hip checks Leo and gives his twin a pointed look, probably noticing the same bags Mikey did and offering his silent concern.

But Leo’s A-Okay, Mikey made sure of it.

And Donnie notices that too, genius that he is, and makes sure to up his job as the funniest, inciting drama to get Raph grumbling about middle child nonsense and Leo full on brightly laughing. 

The tension from Leo’s shoulders dissipated long ago, but now it seems he can breathe even easier. Surrounded by brothers. Mikey knows how he feels, Nothing more special than all four of them hanging out.

It’s after their day fully starts that Mikey tries to break down what went so right this morning. Because they fully curbed Leo’s cloud. Mikey can hear him and Raph singing along (poorly) to a random karaoke song. Loving every minute of it.

He presses his pencil hard against the sketchbook, cancelling out the shakes and nerve damage through force of will and sheer artistic spite. Thinking. Tongue out. Real important stuff.

With the first guiding lines he pictures Leo’s shaky form, after effects of a nightmare probably. Bags and tension and storm clouds.

Gone now.

Was it really just the hug? Cause the brother’s hug all the time.

Literally constantly.

Or, he thinks, starting the clouds, swirls and bubbles. Maybe it was the fact it was first thing. Yeah they hug all the time but not necessarily as a morning routine. Hmm.

He’ll have to bring it up to Donnie and Raph. See if they’ll make a plan with him. A scheme if you will. 

Operation Start Your Morning Right. Leo’s morning.

Mikey’s routine remains flawless.

The pencil scatters out of his grasp as his wrist seizes disrespectfully. Mikey sighs and grabs it again, not erasing the random line but adding more like it. Embrace the scars, baby! Another abstract piece, yeah a new style as a result of certain circumstances but completely welcome.

Look what interesting art he can make after saving the world!

Though he does stretch it before continuing. Arm out and wrist up to feel the muscles stretch. Applies the mystic nerve lotion Draxum gifted him.

Back to work!

He gathers the Brains and Brawn duo from their respective haunts. Leo left in the living room with cartoons and an ice pack. Bad pain day for his knee. Unlucky.

Donnie from his lab of course, shoulder deep and shrimping over a new video game code with telling purple accents. Maybe modding Stardew Valley again, honestly Mikey rarely knows what he’s up to. Convincing him into a meeting is easy, anything for the baby (Mikey will seethe about his fifteen years of babying eventually, for now it remains a crucial tool), and anything for his twin.

Scurrying through the lair with ninja sneakiness they hunt down Raph from his room, phone in hand and obviously playing Cats and Soup, surrounded by plushies.

They decide objectively to hold the meeting in Raph’s room, one because he’s the oldest and two because it’s far enough away from the living room where Leo won’t hear them.

Maybe he’s even napping in front of We Bare Bears! 

Probably not but imagine if he was.

Now that Mikey has the two eldest’s attention he collapses onto Raph’s bed and sits in serious meditation pose; criss-cross-applesauce. Bringing his hands in front of his face like a supervillain he leans in, holding their curiosity until Donnie raises an eyebrow.

“Guys,” he starts, they lean in. “I think we can fix Leo.”

They burst out laughing.

Rude!

“Fix Leo?” Donnie scoffs, stifling another round of laughter. “That would take literally years of therapy. And I don’t think our dearest ‘Nardo would sit through it.”

“That’s cute big man but he doesn’t need fixing,” Raph says, always sweet about his little brothers.

Okay maybe Mikey worded it wrong. But OH MY GOD LISTEN TO HIM.

“Serious guys! I’m so serious about this!”

“Right of course, as you are with everything.”

Raph bops Donnie on the head.

“Just listen, okay?” Mikey pleads, using the big eyes.

Raph ruffles his head with a, “We’re always listening to you Mikey. What’s your plan to fix our Fearless?”

Resituating to stand and gesture, Mikey begins his grand explanation.

“So! We know Lee has insomnia and some severe trauma—”

“Hear hear!”

“--BUT I have thought up a solution to make our leader’s life a little bit easier.” Both brothers are listening intently now, convinced Mikey will figure it out because they believe in him wholeheartedly. “I discovered this morning that Leo enjoys hugs, as everyone knows, obviously. He needs more attention and affection. So! I propose he gets good morning hugs from now on. Right when he wakes up preferably. Gentlemen, I think we can do it.”

Raph and Donnie look at each other.

Raph speaks first, a grin on his face, “Boys I like this plan. Raph’s on board.”

“As am I,” Donnie says. “Your analysis holds water, Angelo, and I believe it will help for real-real.”

Mikey overflows with sparking excitement and flutters his hands, glowing with pride and happy to help. 

Raph brings the littler turtles into a huddle and drops his voice to a whisper, saying, “But Leo’s gonna catch on, he’s too clever to not know what we’re up to.”

Mikey groans dramatically. That’s so not the point!

“I concur, what will we do if he asks what’s going on?” Donnie adds, because he’s the worst and evil and against Mikey.

“Tell him to suck it up because we just love him so much,” Mikey hiss whispers, not actually mad. Too many happy feelings spilling out into rushed words.

“Yeah that sounds good,” Donnie replies. The best and most excellent brother he is. Always on Mikey’s side. 

And so they have a game plan and the eagerness to overdo it.

Let Operation Start Leo’s Morning Right begin!

Chapter Text

Obviously the portal closing and it being all Raph’s fault has caused some– let’s say–situations within the Hamato household. Little bits of popping tension that dissolve and flare up again when the mood strikes. A push and pull. It used to be so much worse. Raph knows. He was smack in the middle of it. Every. Single. Time.

It’s so far away now. Endless and infinite. A time passing with blink and you miss it changes. The way the lair went from a powder keg of hurt and squished feelings, glares and screaming, the absolute refusal to change on either side.

Raph regrets it now. Of course he does!

One of his baby brothers was suffering, Raph just fell for the careless, annoying; Leo The Faceman Act. They all did sometimes. 

Once after one of their particularly bad fights—where Leo had a sneer that didn’t fit his face and Raph was not going to cry, sore and raw with it—Raph stormed off. Storming off is usually Leo’s thing, portal and all. Raph had used to stay and try to convince him to open up, knock some responsibility into the laziest brother.

Not that time.

And a glance over his shoulder, a reflection in the walls and Leo’s face falling. Confused. An outcome he didn’t think of. At the moment Raph though ha gotchu, you’re not the only one in this family that plans ahead.

UGH!

Stupid Raph. Hurting his brother on purpose. It’s what they did, what they always do! Part of being brothers! Patch it up later.

That fight never went anywhere.

Everything just got worse.

So Leo tried to be a hero and got the shit beat out of him. Traumatized, pulled from hell cracking a broken jaw smile and making grabby hands for his family. Brought in close because of course he was. Leo continues to deserve all the comfort in the world. Raph was just a fool before. Blinded by hurt and betrayal and Leo’s cutting remarks. Grumpy and overstressed.

Comes with being a leader maybe.

The situation Raph’s in now is Leo on his bed at five in the actual morning. Losing at sleep again, for who knows how many days in a row. They make concerned eye contact with each other before Leo’s eyes slide back to his phone, playing some mindless game or scrolling probably.

“Going for a run?” he asks, voice rough and tired. Shoulders hunched inside a drowning hoodie, one of Raph’s, the snapper notes. Fingers shaking against his screen. God he looks like a mess. For sure feels like one too. 

Tap tap tap tap.

“Yeah, was about to, figured Raph would check on everyone before heading out.”

“Mhm.”

Raph hovers in the entrance to Leo’s room, holding the door frame. Does Leo need a hug right now? He’s a mess but he seems kind of content? Would he want one from Raph? Maybe he should grab Mikey instead.

No.

Baby brothers need attention.

Their faceman needs the most attention.

He enters the room.

“Have fun?” Leo is in the middle of saying, glancing up to his big brother approaching the rumpled bed. “Big guy?”

Raph stoops down and scoops the slider right into his arms. Leo goes in stunned silence, phone forgotten on his blankets. Still shaking. Wrung out. Exhausted.

“Hi?” he squeaks, wriggling.

“Hey, Leo,” Raph replies, smooth and careful. Gotta pull out the big guns. He tightens his hold and lets Leo lean against his plastron. Most optimal brother holding position. “Good morning.”

Leo wraps his arms around one of Raph’s, boneless, almost content.

“Good morning,” he mutters, “hi.”

“Hi.”

Raph starts to sway a little, a new plan forming. Leo adjusts his grip and leans harder on Raph. Plays with his fingers before going limp again. Raph begins to hum the intro to a Jupiter Jim show, one of the reboots that the brothers enjoyed but the internet seemed to hate. Leo offers a giggle of acknowledgement. Raph uses it as fuel to continue his plan.

So he stands there, swaying and humming until Leo is letting out longer and longer breaths, eventually falling asleep.

Insomnia: 0, Raph at least 2.

The snapper chuckles to himself, pleased, and expertly pulls his phone out one handed, sending a quick selfie to the family group chat. Blackmail in this family is high currency after all. The text is met with exclamation points from Donnie (who should be asleep) and quickly deleted when Donnie realizes he just gave himself away.

D: I am asleep

D: That was sleepwalking Donatello

M: Sleepwalker Tello

R: I don’t believe you

D: Oh but pretty please?

A: Boys I have class in two hours

A: Quit blowing up the chat before I CATCH you

Radio silence. 

Ever the insomniac, Leo stirs within an hour, groggy and rubbing his face on Raph’s arm. Forgetting for a moment, where he is. Suddenly very awake he peers little brother eyes up at Raph and rubs them with a fist.

“Um,” he starts, ashamed. For some strange reason.

No little brother should feel ashamed for taking a nap. Least of all on Raph, the ultimate pillow. 

“Sorry. Sorry. You can, um, go running now. I’ll just–” and then he tries wiggling away so Raph sighs loud and put-upon. “I’m sorry.”

“Nuh uh,” Raph counters intelligently, breaking into a shimmy to halt the escape attempt. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? Nowhere important Raph bets.”

“Your run?” Leo says quietly, confused.

“Raph runs all the time. Clearly it doesn’t work.” He flexes a muscled arm to hear Leo snort. The slider finally settling again. The snort builds into a laugh when Raph refuses to stop shimmying and takes the mini dance party out of the tiny subway car, all the way to the kitchen. Just in time to catch Mikey already at the stove, a bowl of mix at his side and a griddle lit up and warming.

Mikey whirls around to see what could be causing Leo’s hysterical laughter and double takes as Raph twirls. The kitchen shakes and Raph sees stars for only a second before continuing.

Zero explanation is given from either big brother. Leo just continues to cackle, choking on air when his mask tails flip over into his face. Raph raises his eyebrows (eyebrows?) and grins super fake, to the point of comedic overdramatics, dancing with so little grace that if Donnie saw they’d probably all be taken out back for embarrassing him.

Leo smacks Raph’s arm and is dropped, grinning big and wide. He fixes his mask and rushes for the baby brother.

“Wait, no! My apron! Leo–!”

Then Mikey is taken and twirled, not matching the song playing even a little bit. Leo passes the baby brother to Raph who lifts him up and spins him around, careful of the ceiling. Mikey bursts with giggles, token protests denied in favor of mindless fun.

Leo grabs a half cooked–as in one side is cooked–pancake and stuffs it burning hot in his mouth.

“That better not be–Leo! You are so gonna get it” Mikey screeches, as siege is laid to his kitchen.

“Can’t catch me! Too slick!” Leo cheers, sliding around the island and almost eating shit on a corner. More stolen pancake in his hands, dripping raw, salmonella filled batter all over the floor.

Raph snatches a perfect golden one straight off the griddle and waits for Mikey to make irate eye contact with him before popping it into his mouth. He reaches for another one–

Mikey lunges.

“You're both the worst!!” he shouts, clambering up Raph’s shell and onto the arm near the stove, smacking it repeatedly. “You’re evil and I should have overthrown you a long time ago!!”

“Should have done what now?” Leo asks, licking batter off his arm.

“You know what I said!”

Raph snatches the box turtle and holds him out to arms length like an unruly cat. Mikey seethes, glaring pitiful eyes at both brothers. Victim to the A team as he always used to be. Man Raph has missed their shenanigans.

“Little man–” Raph starts, on purpose.

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Big man,” Raph corrects, smothering an evil laugh, “You could not overthrow me and Leo. We’re older than you.”

Mikey scoffs and flails his arms.

“I threw a skyscraper, let's not forget! Also Lee is literally a baby like me–”

Leo, who had been content to sabotage Mikey’s playlist, abruptly spins around with the most appalled look Raph has ever seen. “I so am not! Whole year older than you remember?? Same age as Donnie!?”

“Donnie’s older.”

“Donnie’s WHAT. SINCE WHEN.”

Mikey shrugs, smug about it.

“Donnie!” Leo shrieks, in a little brother voice he taught Mikey that isn’t helping his case at all. It echoes through the lair until they all hear the tell tale sign of a softshell clipping a door (lots of swearing) and Donnie appears in the kitchen. He leans against the doorway with his arms crossed like a dork.

Raph puts Mikey down and takes a stool.

Letting Leo dig his own grave.

“We’re twins right?” Leo demands. A small line in his question. An old insecurity that should have been curbed long ago. 

“I’m offended you’d even ask, ‘Nardo.” Nice Job, D. 

“Who’s the older twin?” Back to his competitive self.

“Me,” Donnie replies in monotone, at the same time Mikey chirps, “Donnie!”

Leo collapses onto a stool, head in his hands. He starts to just whisper “whaaaaaaaaat.” over and over. Whole life apparently a lie.

“Would you overthrow Donnie too?” Raph asks, distracting Mikey again from his pancake task. Curious where Donnie lands in this equation.

Mikey puts the spatula to his chin and rocks on his heels. “Hmmmmm,” he starts, just as Donnie asks, “Overthrow who now?” Then he thinks louder, silencing the genius. “I don’t think I’d have to. D would settle. He knows that I’m in charge of our duo.” Donnie hits Mikey with the most deadpan, exasperated look. Vine worthy. Mikey winks in response.

“Michael,” Donnie says.

“Yes?” Mikey bats his eyelashes and passes a plate of plain, only buttered pancakes in Donnie’s direction.

Donnie takes them.

“Nevermind. Let’s overthrow them. Great plan.”

“Hey wait,” Leo says, vacating his stool and sneaking around the island. Trying for the exit. Donnie sets his plate down and approaches with his spider arms out. “Hey wait a second let’s talk, I mean what does overthrowing really mean? There’s no need for a coup! Swear! Honest! Wait. Waitwaitwaitwaitnoooo–!”

Donnie pounces and snatches Leo mid sprint, lifting the slider into the air and laughing maniacally. Leo shrieks with laughter and squirms.

Which leaves Mikey to get Raph.

Uh oh.

Mikey delicately turns the stove off. Wipes his hands on his apron. Pushes the other plates to the side. 

Fixes Raph with a Dr. Delicate Touch stare.

Well. Shit.

At least Leo’s happy.

Chapter Text

Waking up in the middle of the night at a friend’s house came easily to April. Because she has plenty of friends of course. Not just the turtles in the sewers. Other sleepover experiences.

She rubs her eyes, the haze of sleep and comfy fog trying to bring her back. Soft breathing of little brothers and static from the tv. Fuzzy light.

But there’s Leo, upright and swaddled in blankets, facing the tv, shell to April.

Fine.

She fumbles for her glasses and extracts herself from under Raph’s arm, distangling limbs and army crawling out of the pile of blankets and pillows. The noise makes Leo turn tired eyes towards her, shuffling and struggling. Glasses askew she offers a wave and settles next to him. Bumps their shoulders together.

Little brothers don’t belong alone in the dark.

“You should go back to sleep, Apes,” he whispers, wry.

April snatches a blanket from Donnie, doing a twisty backbend to grab and drag it toward her. He grumbles but doesn’t stir, Mikey tucked under one arm in his shell. Wrapping it around her shoulders she resituates, slinging an arm over Leo’s shoulders. Bringing him close. Not alone. Never in this family.

“Thought I’d hang out with you, dude,” she says. 

He smiles slightly, watching the cartoon they pirated. It sinks into a frown he can’t quite seem to discard.

April rubs circles into his blanketed shell. Tries to trick him into laying down with their brothers again. He doesn’t fall for it, resolutely watching Sam and Max Freelance Police pull bazookas on fridge monsters.

“What’s on your mind?” she asks, careful. Nothing underhand.

He won’t tell her. As much as feelings aren’t Donnie’s thing they really aren’t Leo’s either. At least not when it comes to his own.

“Nothing, April.”

“Not even a corny joke? Come on, you know you can tell me. I’ll even pity laugh I promise.” She nudges him. His mouth quirks up, stripes crinkling pleased around his eyes. 

“Ok fine you caught me. Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

“Ew gross what.”

He grins, finally turning away from the tv to look her dead in the eyes and say, “It runs in your jeans.”

“Yuck!” But she giggles a little and Leo brightens.

They watch the show. It’s silly and stupid. Leo leans heavy on April’s shoulder, content under her arm.

Cycled breathing behind them.

Problem is April is lowkey kind of bored now. 

Sneak out time!

It’s okay cause she’s the oldest.

“Leo, let's go to Denny’s.”

“...Yes.”

The walk there consists of heavy New York rain and bustling city life. April tugs her jacket hood farther over her face, trying to prevent the droplets from landing on her glasses and fogging them up. Her and Leo scamper through the foot traffic, weaving around strangers with umbrellas trying to go to work.

They could have portaled of course. But where’s the fun in that?

A couple more streets and only a minor amount of shoving into puddles has the two teens sliding into the Denny’s and claiming a seat in the back.

Leo keeps his hood on, purple and clearly Donnie’s, to hide. April takes hers off and mourns how the rain is going to make her curls mercilessly frizzy.

A girl that clearly doesn’t want to be working this early drops off their menus, she fidgets with a necklace and takes their drinks but is otherwise unbothered by Leo’s whole situation . 

“What’re we ordering, kid?” April asks, considering the pancakes and weighing the pros and cons of how warm they’ll actually be.

Leo wraps the hoodie strings around his fingers and tugs repeatedly.

“I dunno. Probably french toast.”

The razzle dazzle from their rainy walk seems to be slowly dissipating right in front of April. Not good. 

“Then we’ll get french toast. With all the fixings.” And she makes an executive decision, vacating the seat across from Leo and joining him on one side, squishing the bigger turtle into the seat.

“Ok.” And he links their arms and ducks behind her a little bit, hiding from the morning. That’s what big sisters are for.

So she fights off whatever started this odd morning with a consistent side hug, and linked arms, ordering for both of them, the waitress again not giving a single shit that April is basically squishing her little brother.

“Any reason for the recent insomnia curse?”

“My brain’s just like this,” he answers, too fast, with a telling duck into Donnie’s hoodie.

“And I'm sorry it is, Lee.” She decides not to call him on his lie, he’ll crack. Leo and Mikey are similar like that. Can’t leave the issue hanging, at least not with April. Leo can lie to anyone and feel bad about it, but still pull it off. With April the guilt kicks in pretty much immediately.

A tiny insecure breath. Here we go.

“I just have been feeling weird lately,” Leo whispers, like his feelings are a crime and he should take them back or make up for them somehow. “I dunno, it’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.” And the damning, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

Worried eye contact. Snap shot and then hiding again.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“…sorry?”

April sighs and knocks their shoulders together. The waitress comes back with their breakfast, April’s pancakes soaked in butter, literally saturated with it, and Leo with a respectable amount of blueberries on his toast.

Grabbing a bite, April starts, “Describe the weird feeling to me.”

Leo pulls his plate towards him but makes no move for his fork. He scrunches his face up like a little kid.

“It’s like anxiety I guess? Like someone put a weird heavy creature in my chest and it sits and feels for me but it does it wrong and I can’t change it.” He sighs, poking the toast with the fork. “I don’t want to feel like this. I wake up in the morning and the thing beat me to my own body. It doesn’t go away. It’s fine though.”

April sits and chews her pancakes, secretly enjoying the disgusting amount of butter, mulling over her little brother's situation. It certainly sounds weird. And unlucky. Another thing to worry about, to look out for.

She turns to him but he’s got his face decidedly to the window, watching the rain become a pelting storm. Probably gonna have to portal home. 

“What can we do to help?” We because their family has love to outlast any other, and enough people to tackle anything Leo needs.

“You don’t have to help. It’s not a problem.” It is it is it is. April raises an eyebrow for him to see in the window reflection.

Another big sigh.

“I kind of liked the… um.” 

Raises her eyebrow even higher. Her mom would be proud of the sheer amount of sass being used right now.

“This is hard for me,” Leo mutters, almost inaudible. Backed into the Denny’s booth with the unwavering support of the oldest sibling. April leans against his arm in apology. Feels the fine tremors up and down his body. Lack of sleep. Anxiety and monsters.

“Then let’s have breakfast. Finish your toast or you owe me two dollars,” she says, injecting a little humor.

Leo shoots her a concerned look, off guard that the conversations over if he wants it to be. 

“I don’t have two dollars.”

“ Poor —“ April says loudly, receiving a tiny punch to her arm, “—I mean ahhh darn guess you’ll have to eat breakfast.”

He scowls at her like eating is a crime too. She scowls back to mock him.

He finishes his toast like a hungry turtle. Picks up and tosses every blueberry into his mouth before April can steal any. She pats his covered head. Leo soaks up the affection like a plant in the sun, leaning into her hands.

They pay the tab up front and April slides the poor waitress a five under the table for her trouble. The girl thanks them, not even shocked when Leo grins under his hoodie a bit.

New York after all. Weirder stuff down the street than anything happening here.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Leo admits. They’re under the entrance, listening to the storm. April nods, sympathetic. The rain drums on the building roof. Leo wraps his arms around himself, trying to build his masks back up.

Her phone chimes in her pocket, text message light up from Donnie.

D: Do you have Leo?

D: My tracker says you are together but I would like to confirm for peace of mind.

D: Is he upset?

D: Don’t tell him I asked though.

She sends a rolling eyes emoji and confirms that she does in fact have the blue turtle. And he’s been fed breakfast.

Leo peers over her shoulder and shamelessly reads the messages. He doesn’t say anything but he does rest his chin on April’s shoulder. Links their arms again.

A: he’s…

“Are you doing okay right now?” April asks, loaded because he better not lie to her.

“Yes and no I guess.” And when April keeps staring at him through her glasses he adds a quick, “I’m happy to hangout, just–also anxious. I guess. Don’t tell Donnie that.”

“Okay.”

A: he’s having a little bit of a morning but we’re fixing it

“What!” Leo gripes as soon as it sends. “He’s gonna flip!”

“Why would he do that.”

“Cause he’s Donnie! They’ll all be worried about me!” 

“Good. I’m worried about you.”

He turns betrayed eyes at her, face twisted up in secret hurt. Eye bags and unfixable exhaustion. 

“We’re gonna help you out, Lee,” she says. “We’re gonna tell the guys together and fix your day.”

“Not my brain?”

“Nothing is wrong with your brain.”

He very obviously doesn’t believe that at all. Okay fine. Another thing to work on. One day at a time. One anxious feeling at a time. Kill the creatures.

Donnie finally replies, having typed for a long enough time that April assumed he’d be sending a paragraph of factual well wishes. Met instead with a simple sentence that he went with instead.

D: Did you hug him good morning yet?

Right ! The lair’s new plan!

April lets the warm excitement fill her, hope and a stated fix. A little way to help. She tugs her arm from Leo’s and yanks him down to her level— curse her brothers for being so much taller than her —and pulls him into an April O’Neil special. Squeezing with all her strength.

Leo, of course, goes willingly, and wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into her shoulder.

“Good morning, Leo. I love you,” she states, like her best friend would. Years and years of Donnie chewing on the words he wants to say. Letting it be monotone and fully loaded with love. Hopefully it reminds Leo of his twin too. Another layer of family.

“Good morning, April,” he whispers, quiet today. “I love you too.” It only wobbles a little. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re very welcome, baby brother. Literally anytime.”

Like magic he brightens considerably and teleports his sword to them, letting them burst in sparkles back to the lair. Energized to not even need a portal.

April is almost shocked at how much the hug seemed to have helped him, a little swagger when he flips the hood back and greets the rest of the family in the kitchen. At the same time she’s not. Splinter’s most tactile turtle after all.

Donnie shoots her a smug look from the coffee machine, letting his twin wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean into his space. She shoots him an even smugger look. Nodding at Leo.

Look at him.

Look how we can help him .

Chapter Text

Donnie wakes up before Leo. Weird way to start the morning but he’ll survive. Maybe. They had a twin sleepover last night, part of the help Leo plan that’s getting increasingly more complicated. More than it had been to get him through weeks of bedridden fever induced injuries and escape attempts, the physical therapy and the knee brace he still has to wear sometimes. When old wounds act up in new and unforeseen ways. 

Leo had been hugging his arms last night, well, more like all of yesterday. Shrinking. It always rubs Donnie the wrong way to see Leo in obvious distress. No matter how subtle his twin thinks he is. Puns and one liners and smug smiles. 

Tired eyes.

So Donnie initiated a sleepover. A genius move on his part, but let’s be honest, when are his moves not genius? And Leo had fallen asleep! Absolutely insane! The group chat had heard all about it, as well as seen, with the candid photo of Leo clutching Donnie’s hoodie covered arm and leaning on his shoulder. Donnie loves this new picture.

Now, in the quiet of dawn (probably, down in the sewers they never really know when the sun is rising, earth tilt and all that. Scratch that Donnie does know because he knows everything–) Donnie watches Leo breathe evenly, knows he’s asleep because his features are relaxed to a point that he hasn’t been able to fake. No mask for peace quite yet. Hopefully one never appears. 

See Donnie has another plan. A sub plan to the main plan. A side quest if you will. He’s been researching and cooking this one up ever since April pulled him aside and explained Leo’s anxiety to the rest of the family, in her patented I’m keeping it together because I’m April O’Neil voice. They brainstormed how to fix that. 

Hmm. Not really something that can be fixed usually. Well. Perhaps for anyone but Hamato Donatello. Sixteen year old brilliant scientist and protector of brothers. Especially younger twin’s who need some extra looking-out-for.

Donnie pulls up the spreadsheet with a flicker of familiar ninpo. The light hits Leo gently and he wiggles, hugging Donnie’s pillow. Thief. The things Donnie would do for this guy. 

Leo does wake up pretty quickly after that though, burying his face in the covers and taking a deep, deep breath. A habit picked up over the years. Always comes with waking up for the slider. Donnie wonders if it’s part of the anxiety. If they could circumvent the morning nausea with breathing. Leo doesn’t seem to think so; his face scrunches up and he sits up, looking for Donnie. 

“I have a list,” Donnie starts.

Leo, half awake and shaking off a weirdly, deep, peaceful sleep, hits his twin with an insincere deadpan and rubs his eyes.

“Why, D.”

“I like lists.”

“I mean yeah. I know. Why bring it up right this second though?” He yawns hugely and shuffles out of the blankets to press his shoulder against Donnie’s. Donnie, in return, nudges against him and bonks their heads together sideways.

“It’s for you.”

“...Nice.” And Donnie genuinely can’t tell if that was sarcasm or not.

First though, the original plan, the one before all the moving pieces got involved. Because it has been proven several times over and Donnie is a man of science. And Donnie’s not a softie for his family even a little bit. This is for science.

So the softshell stands up, dislodging Leo and sweeping around to grab his twin. Starting the morning hug while Leo’s not awake from insomnia or even fully comprehending the day. Nailing this day. That’s Donnie’s side quest. Pull this off. Joy and whimsy and Leo’s happy little smile, the one that crawls on his face and squishes it. Micheal would be so proud of this moment. Donnie wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching somehow. 

Picking Leo up off the bed, Donnie hugs him fully, a good touch day and glad to have it. Leo’s warm from the blankets and shaking off the settle of sleep. He wraps his arms around Donnie and rests his head on his shoulder. They share space, as twins do. Donnie makes sure to feel all the contentedness he possibly can. Tries to pass it through the little winding paths in their minds. Where the ninpo lives and the twins share a sky. Brewing storms, lighting and wind.

“What’s on the list?” Leo mumbles, fingers tap-tap-tapping at Donnie’s leathery soft shell.

“I’m so glad you asked, dearest ‘Nardo.” 

…

“What’s this for again?” Leo asks, chewing his breakfast burrito. Mikey looks up curiously from where he has his nose buried in a new facebook recipe, fingers clenched around the industrial strength case. 

“What’s what for?” 

“The list.” Ominous.

“What list?”

“The list of crimes I’m turning you over to the police for,” Leo says seriously, setting his burrito down and sneaking over to Mikey. Donnie raises an eyebrow. “Number one,” and Leo grabs Mikey and nuzzles his cheek while the box turtle squeals and tries to scramble away, “being too gosh darn adorable!” Leo has his voice pitched up to be so saccharine it loops into teasing.

“Knock it off, Leo! I’d go to jail for a much cooler crime!” Mikey grumbles, hugging the slider even through his indignation. 

“Like what?”

“Murder!”

“Hell yes ‘Angelo,” Donnie says, raising his coffee mug like a toast. The younger two continue to squabble as Raph looks on fondly. Though his hero mindset might be concerned. Mind Raph debating on how much trouble the tide pod duo could reasonably cause.

“We don’t kill people,” the eldest says seriously. Smiling. Donnie pretends to pout, matching Leo and Mikey who turn big eyes at their brother. “We do NOT,” Raph repeats, sweating. He taps his fingers together nervously. “We haven’t?”

Donnie shares a very pointed look with Leo. 

Mikey grins like a shark at Raph.

“There’s no way,” he says, trying to convince himself more than state fact Donnie assumes. 

“Guess we’ll never know, Raphie,” Mikey says sweetly. Leo cackles from his perch on the counter, back to his breakfast, cheeks full like a chipmunk. Ew.

Raph grumbles something about brother nonsense and the twins corrupting Mikey. Donnie chuckles to himself (read; says “chuckles” aloud. To himself.) because Mikey couldn’t possibly be corrupted. Sweetest force of nature on the planet. Like a hurricane of sunshine and sparkles. Still capable of destruction.

The twins had no part of that. It’s just how Mikey is.

“Seriously though, Leo, what’s the list? ” Mikey asks again, saying it like it’s a mysterious object found on a quest. This will come in handy later . Leo tilts his head and drums his fingers on the counter. Can’t sit still.

“I told you! Criminal!” Oddly shy about it?

Donnie opens his mouth to explain but Leo whips toward him with such a vulnerable, pleading look that the softshell takes physical damage, ducking into his mug. Ok. The list is secret then. Help has to be subtle. Donnie knew this. They all do. Part of Leo is his infallibility. Gotta protect that or he’ll feel like he has nothing left. Sure. Donnie can keep it a secret. Anything for his twin after all.

Mikey side eyes Leo but must decide it’s not worth it, leaning into the joke once again instead.

“Your silly list won’t convict me of anything, the jury won’t survive this baby face!” Cue anime shiny eyes and Raph’s knee jerk reaction to coo. 

“To answer your original question, ‘Nardo, this–” Donnie gestures at the kitchen. Nine am. Breakfast. Family. Etc etc. “--is integral to the function of the list. The whole point one might say.”

“I’m confused.”

“Shocker.” Donnie raises a perfect brow when Leo sticks his tongue out. Because he’s more mature than the slider obviously. Okay maybe he also sticks his tongue out, mocking his twin. But you can’t prove that, and you didn’t see. So there.

“ Shocker ,” Leo repeats, in a nerd voice, laughing through it. “ I’m Donnie and I’m omnipotent .” He pulls the hand dance move that Raph ALSO does when he mocks the genius. Donnie is unappreciated in this family. He should’ve pursued world domination instead. Made Shelldon in charge or something.

Still, he can’t resist. 

“ I’m Leo and I cried during Sonic 3 ,” he says, using the betrayed theater kid voice both twins mastered in a blanket fort years and years ago.

“You did too!” He did not .

“I did not!”

“If y’all don’t stop right this instant Raph will noogie you into next week.” Both twins squeak but Leo’s is obviously more embarrassing, backing away from the snapping turtle as he assumes an attack stance.

“If you three fight in my flawless kitchen I’ll GET YOU,” Mikey adds sweetly, hopping on the counter next to Leo, who turns wide eyes to his baby brother and then flicks them at Donnie. Like: help me! He’s going to GET me! A fate worse than death of course. And not one Donnie would like to tempt at this moment.

They have more list to get to anyways. Secret tasks. Side quests. 

Exciting!

“Come along, dearest twin, we have a day to have,” he states, already slinking out of the kitchen. Leo mutters “a day to have what kinda goofy ah phrasing is that” while he slides off the counter.

“Twin day! Twin day!”

Raph begins his going out speech at the , “Please don’t get arrested or killed or commit crimes or harass billionaires again or become local legends or cripids or commit arson especially or prank April’s mom or tie high school kids shoes together or enroll in shady theater troops or do donuts in parking lots or drift through wizard con or drink more than ONE energy drink or–”

“Cheese and crackers, Raph that’s like our whole day!” Leo cries in delight, smiling so hard it must hurt. Not fake though. Not a mask. Unbearably fond. “That was everything Donnie planned, all gone, put to waste! However shall we entertain ourselves.”

“Yeah, alright, Leon.” Raph comes over and noogies the slider. “I’m serious though. Stop harassing billionaires. They’re not smart enough to react in a mature way.” At Leo’s unwavering smile Raph sighs in defeat. “Minimal harassment!”

But Leo’s already caught Donnie in the doorway and swung around it.

“No promises!” And then he cackles madly down the hallway, rushing to his room to pull on his sonadow hoodie most likely. Or one of Donnie’s that he swears just mysteriously ended up in his laundry and he didn’t steal, promise D!

“I’d go gray if I had any hair,” Raph says, settling at the table with a third burrito. Unbothered. He faces Donnie, still leaning in the doorway like a cool unemotional bad boy. “You got him today?”

“Without fail, brother. I bid thee adieu.” And he saunters away. Off to grab a hoodie of his own. Today feels like a Hatsune Miku day. “‘Michelangelo.”

“Donatello.”

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Aw of course, Dee!”

…

It’s warm and chilly out. The sun providing direct protection from the bristling wind that’s whipping through the city. Donnie feels refreshed. It’s refreshing. 

The twins jump roofs, laughing and tripping each other, Leo cheating with portals and Donnie cheating with heat seeking missiles. They chase each other and soak up the sun. Leo almost eats it over the edge of a building, caught up in the fun and Donnie has an arm out to catch him, to grab his arm and drag him to safety and chide him for being careless. But Leo rights himself with ease, breathing it off with a giggle. Completely unphased. Usually so afraid of heights. One of the many things the Hamato household watches out for, for Leo. Roofs and ledges and free falls that aren’t fun anymore, alone in the middle of the night, woken up from nightmares. They take care of him. Watch a little closer than two years ago. 

Donnie likes to believe he’s always been watching. Looking out for his twin. It’s his job after all. A give and take. Leo looks out for him in return. Equals. Twins.

He shakes off the emptied gun of fear. Turns the matching easy smile to Leo. And they jump the gap together. Breathless on the rooftop of the building they claimed as a secret hideout years ago. It’s an apartment with a stuck lock the landlord refuses to fix and the attendants don’t care about. So the hideout has a hidden cooler with more than one energy drink haha take that Raph and a thick outdoor blanket for stargazing or people watching or general chaos. 

Leo cracks an Alani and sips it carefully, hiding his fingers in his hoodie as a breath of cold air sweeps through. Hm. Maybe it’s a little cold out. Oh well. The sun feels nice. And the turtle in him demands Donnie lay and enjoy it.

This morning, he’d shown Leo the list, knowing that his beloved twin would read into it but not quite reach the underhanded care. Levels of deception in this family. 

It simply reads:

-Breakfast

-Fresh air

-Sunshine

-Clean room

-Video games

“So a to do list?” Leo asked, squinting at it. The purple Ninpo reflecting like a cat in his eyes. Creature eyes. Donnie had never thought about that before. How their eyes suck up light like a fellow animal. Something to test he supposed. Exciting! He filed that away for later.

“In a way.”

“You made ME a to do list?” The honest confusion had pleased Donnie at the time. Pulled one over on the strategist. Nice.

“Well. Yes you. And also me. This is what we’re doing for our twin day.”

Leo had shot him an incredibly happy look. Smiling, smiling, smiling. 

“Really? We’re having a twin day?”

“Why of course! I simply went ahead and planned the itinerary.”

Leo looked at the list again, analyzing. He frowned for half a second, trying to figure it out. But Donnie had honestly prepared to hangout with him. The deception came with trying to get rid of the anxious explosion without bringing it up. Or talking about it at a later date. Leo talked plenty with April, and he’d get more talks about it eventually. However Donnie had a hypothesis to test. And that involved Leo’s clinical eyes not finding anything. And he didn’t. Score, excellent, round of applause.

“Cool. I like it. Even if it’s weird.”

“Why’s it weird.”

“Because you made it, ‘Tello. And you’re weird.”

“YOU’RE weird.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh. And also. I cast fireball!”

And then they beat each other up (affectionate).

“Pass me a good one,” Donnie says, dismissing his Ninpo. Leo tosses the stardust flavor, threatening to shake it while Donnie extends his neck menacingly, raising his eyebrows higher and higher until Leo laughs.

“You like the worst one,” he says.

“Not everything has to be blue to be good, Leo.”

“Um yes? All blue things are just automatically better. Especially better than purple things. I don’t make the rules. It was the universe. Or Gram-gram probably. Yeah. Yes. Of course. She decided.”

Donnie snorts. “She most certainly didn’t. Purple is the superior color. Always has been. THAT , is scientific fact. Ask any scientist. I know them all.”

Leo rolls onto his front, turning the energy drink around and around in his hands. “It must be hard being wrong all the time. I can’t even imagine.” With the shit eating grin. The I’m starting something, are you in?

ALRIGHT .

Properly insulted, Donnie summons a bazooka and takes aim while Leo cackles like the menace he is, rolling around and snort laughing. Donnie fires. Leo sputters as he’s covered in mystic glitter. Completely purple. He looks at Donnie. Donnie looks at Leo.

They explode with laughter, high and annoying, obnoxious like teenagers should be. A little hysterical, like twins should be. Leo tackles Donnie in a hug and hopelessly spreads the glitter, now the genius could dismiss it, Ninpo after all. But this is so much funnier; squeezing a hug into his chilled twin, drawing stars into the glitter on his hoodie covered shell. Morse code.

Love you .

“Love you too, ‘Tello!” Leo exclaims brightly.

He tries to escape, but Donnie abruptly misses his twin for no reason. A pang of minutes spent alone. Only a few. It felt like forever. He hugs Leo tighter. Dismisses the glitter finally and taps the morse code message again.

This feels like forever too.

“Lemme goooooo,” Leo whines, unserious. Warm in the hug.

“Timber,” Donnie states flatly, and falls over.

Leo giggles. 

They lay in the sun.

“Tello.”

“Nardo.”

“I’m cold.”

“Massive L.”

“Wow okay.”

But Donnie’s already getting up, closing the cooler, tugging at the blanket Leo continues to lay on. He rolls like a mouse off of it. Donnie folds it perfectly and Leo takes their empty cans.

“Who should we portal them to?” He kicks on the wickedest grin, devious, devious twin of Donnie’s.

“Someone truly evil.”

“I’m so all over it,” Leo says, he swings one katana above his head, “Hachiiiiii maaaaachiii—” and a spinning portal appears, he disrespectfully chucks the empty cans into it and is met with a yelp. The twins high five and Leo snaps the portal shut. They high five again for good measure. To ensure it echoes over the city. Maybe interrupts traffic. 

“Portal home or run?” Leo asks, with his easy smile.

Donnie clocks his shit. His job after all. Leo’s shaking, cold, like he said. What an impressive admittance from the bottled up slider. Donnie feels a spark of pride for how hard Leo’s trying. How hard he always tries. He clocks Leo’s weight shift to one side. Idiot not wearing his knee brace. 

A stronger breeze whips through and both turtles shiver.

Yeah they’re portalling.

“Let’s portal. I’m hungry anyways, the faster we get snacks the better,” Donnie says.

“Of course of course. Where would we be if you were hungry?”

“Dead. Chop chop.”

“Lmao.”

Stepping through the portal comes as easy as breathing. Donnie has full trust in Leo. Always has. They appear in the kitchen, sadly not startling Mikey who’s busy whisking dry ingredients for something or other. He simply nods in their direction and wiggles to his music. 

“ ‘Clean room’, D?”

“Yes.”

Mikey tilts his head, realizes he doesn’t care about keeping up with their conversation, and jumps on the counter to grab the liquid measuring cup. 

“Yours or mine though.”

“Yours.”

Leo makes a face. Like he ate a lemon on a dare (not that Donnie would know).

“K.”

Hm.

Leo starts pulling out sandwich supplies. Salami and cheese from the fridge, bread from the cupboards, a cutting board and plates. He bumps hips with Mikey, trying to distract the box turtle who grumbles and scoots aside so Leo can grab a butter knife.

Materials acquired, the twins make camp at the table. Leo sits on top of it. Donnie retrieves cups and juice.

Donnie wonders how Leo feels. He seems content. Happy. Shouldn’t be a mask; Leo got kind of bad at using them after the invasion, little bits of stage play attempts falling to pieces. He cried a lot in the med bay. Shared a lot of things Donnie would’ve thought he’d take to his grave. Well, things he almost did. Maybe that’s why. 

Lots of apologies in the med bay too. Mumbled under anesthesia and slurry with exhaustion. The whole family hated it. Hates it now when Leo apologizes for nothing. 

They eat their sandwiches and drink their juice. Donnie wonders how Leo feels. He wonders. Could guess. Wouldn’t hurt. Not going to ask though. Leo’s got the easiest smile on, offering his wind whipped cheeks to Mikey to match grins with the baby brother. Mikey tells the twins he loves them. He loves them.

Donnie matches his younger brothers. 

As all consuming as the invasion had been, this crystallizes as more important. They can move on from anything else. 

“Let’s go clean your room, Leo,” he says.

“Ughhhhh, do we have to??”

“Yup! It’s on the list. Gotta follow the list.”

“How could I forget. The world could end again if the list goes incomplete.” 

“You get it.”

Leo sighs again. Interesting.

“Well let’s go.”

“I got your dishes guys,” Mikey says, already filling the sink with his baking supplies and dumping soap. “But you owe me ice cream–okayitsadealbyebye!!”

“Yeah,” Leo says, glancing at Mikey snickering to himself, “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Donnie taps his fingers together. Sitting on Leo’s bed, freshly made. Thinking. Leo putters around his room, picking up garbage and poorly basketball shooting it into the trashcan where it hits the overflow and rolls sadly back to the floor. Obviously the slider is unfazed.

The room hadn’t even been all that messy. Donnie wonders what made Leo so weird about it. They listen to Doja Cat. Donnie fluffs Leo’s too-many pillows again. Adjusts his unicorn plushie so it sits at the right angle.

Sigh.

“‘Nardo.”

“‘Tello,” Leo parrots, without thinking. 

“How…Are you–?”

“Just fine!”

“--feeling.”

They stare at each other. Leo cocks his head and scrunches his face up in a smile, the kind that forces his eyes closed. He picks up a sweater (one of Donnie’s , that thief) and worms into it to avoid the stuffed laundry basket.

Donnie feels unease growing. A nervousness he has finally learned not to doubt.

Once when they were younger Donnie had a stomach ache for three straight hours. Nothing he did fixed it and nothing he would think caused it had occurred that day. He ended up laying in the middle of the atrium in a ball and hoping it would pass. 

He hadn’t seen Leo all day.

It had actually taken Raph coming by and nudging his shoulder to get Donnie to uncurl. Which he did with a whine. Raph said where’s Leo and Donnie said dunno you find him. Raph asked what was hurtin’ and Donnie said I’ll figure it out. Because he would . But Raph seemed really worried about Leo being missing and Donnie’s sensitive stomach clenched uncomfortably at the mention of his twin.

Twin sense wasn’t real. It was a weird thing for Leo to cling to and use to explain perfectly normal occurrences that happened to perfectly normal turtles who knew each other inside and out. They were statistically average twins. Donnie looked it up. Made sure.

And yet.

Something inside told Donnie to get up. To look and find and keep safe.

So the two eldest searched the lair. Bedrooms and the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, the arcade, even Dad’s room which always felt off limits but never was. Smelt like sweat and closed doors.

Leo wasn’t anywhere.

Donnie wanted to cry. He couldn’t. The tears were stuck behind the shell he built to hide in all day. Too many feelings already went to worrying about his stomach, and now more were being used because Leo decided to be a dum-dum. Nothing new stupid body! Leo did dum-dum stuff all the! Now wouldn’t be any different!

It was. 

Raph, Dad, Donnie and Mikey ended the day with no Leo. By then Dad retreated back to his room, unreadable, asking to see the blue one when he was found. Mikey was outright sobbing, clutching Raph’s arm with surprising strength, dragging him down.

Donnie sat back in the atrium and stared at his hands. He felt something unstable and foreign grow in his chest. Bad, bad feeling. He planned to remove them all by thirteen. His eyes burned and itched. Despite barely talking all day he could feel his jaw snapped shut in the telling sign he had gone nonverbal. Great. How was he supposed to scold his twin when he came back.

Leo made Donnie sit in his anxiety (and the anxiety of his twin as was later learned) until the slider came back into the lair.

“I got lost, Tello.” was all he said, bright eyes dull and exhausted. Red from crying. He was shaking and collapsed next to Donnie, barely letting his legs fold under him, just letting the fall happen. God he looked like a wreck.

Looked for you . Donnie wanted to say. I missed you. Why did you go? Why are you sad? But Leo was crying again and grabbing at Donnie’s arm, asking his twin for a hug. Donnie felt outside himself and gross with stress, but the reason for all his terrible feelings was right there. Asking for comfort. Needing it.

Donnie tugged the then shorter slider into his arms and hugged him tight, rubbing circles into his shell in the way Leo always liked.

He didn’t want to stay on the ground anymore.

“Sometimes,” Leo said as they walked, without prompting, his hand latched to Donnie’s. “Sometimes I need to get out. I know I have to get out but I don’t know from what. My room or–or the lair, I dunno. My shell? I needed to go. Today I mean. Something felt so bad. I’m sorry, Dee. I got lost. I’m sorry.” He kept whispering I’m sorry all the way to Donnie’s room where he shoved him onto the bed and buried him in blankets.

Now Leo volunteers his feelings again. The creature in Donnie’s chest writhes, stretching slimy limbs. He focuses on breathing like a person. 

“I didn’t think it would work.”

Donnie doesn’t know whether to respond or not. If Leo will clam up if he can’t pretend he’s talking to himself. No. It’s fine.

“If what would work?”

“Starting.”

Starting what??? Oh my banana pancakes why does Donnie have to have the most riddle speaking, insufferable twin on the planet.

Leo hums the tune of Jupiter Jim, Last Trip to the Moon OG. He keeps cleaning like the brat he is.

“I think I get anxious when stuff isn’t done. But I can’t do it,” he says.

Oh?

“Cause like my brain worries that something’s wrong. With starting the task. And also with leaving it not done. So like I’m in a weird stasis. I think I’ve been like this for a long time.” He comes to the bed. The room is clean. Ish. For a teenage turtle at least. Better.

Donnie makes room for Leo to sit next to him, which he proceeds to do, continuing the motion to lay on his shell and sprawl out. 

“Do you require assistance?” Donnie asks, like the kind, benevolent brother he is.

“Could you give me a lobotomy?”

Donnie taps his chin in thought. “I could pull that off.”

“Cool.”

He taps Leo on the plastron to sit up. Hugs him.

Lots happening today. Many hugs.

“I think we’re gonna skip the lobotomy. We’ll change your brain chemistry a different way.”

Leo hides in the hug. He’s still cold from outside. “And how are we gonna do that?”

“Well April just put me onto this game, let’s go play In Stars and Time–”

Chapter Text

Blue has been especially chipper lately. Splinter’s cunning boys finally filled him in on their little plan, letting him help them. Blue just needs a tiny bit of extra attention, a helping hand. It was foolish to think he would fully recover after his injuries healed, and no one expected him to, but no one could have guessed there was so much more beneath the injuries and the monster he was stuck with. Issues that started much younger (Splinter’s fault) and followed him into childhood (Splinter tries and tries and tries to step up. Now. It doesn’t make up for the years of hiding. No matter the excuse, but he still tries. There’s the rest of all their lives after all, better to change now and build on top of the love already there.)

Splinter loves his boys. His sweet eldest, always letting the littler ones follow him like ducklings and tending to absolutely anything they need. Red’s size wasn’t ever an issue, though Splinter feared it, Red always stepped up in big ways, a burden that shouldn’t have ever been his. He carries it well despite everything.

His brilliant, brilliant Purple, always clever and independent, finding support when he needed it and taking pride he rightfully deserves in everything he does. Their home wouldn’t be standing without him, Splinter’s sure of it. Also the funniest, a very important title. Purple gets his humor from his dad of course.

Bubbly Orange, master chef, ballet enthusiast. Always confident in his abilities and sure of himself in the way only a youngest sibling with overly doting siblings could be. Orange stays silly and wonderful despite everything and often holds the family together, Splinter suspects.

Blue has always been like Splinter. A little too sneaky, thinking ahead in ways that unerve others, seeking attention and praise. A little insecure. Sometimes Splinter sees Blue on a bad morning, where he clearly didn’t sleep and wants to hide it, and catches his own reflection. A funhouse mirror that Splinter wanted to leave behind.

He hates that for his kid. Hates to see any of his wonderful boys struggle. Life isn’t fair, god does Splinter know that. But he also knows it can be kind, and loving.

That’s all he wants for his kids. 

It’s four in the morning. Splinter had set up camp in his chair with a satisfying amount of chips in a bowl late last night, after the boys had finished their Mario Kart tournament (Red won with Princess Toadstool as he usually does, letting the twins target each other and Orange just being generally unlucky playing the racing game) turning on a new soap and watching early into the morning. 

The main girl has just revealed she’s actually psychic and also an alien, quickly entering battle with the antagonist who turned out to be a vampire AND a werewolf and Splinter wonders what the budget for this show is and who wrote it. It’s practically begging to be acknowledged as a college film. Maybe even high schoolers with a budget from parents.

Not bad though. Weirdly compelling dialogue and all.

Blue is peaking around the entrance to the living room. Has been for quite some time, he has his hands curled snuggly around a steaming mug of tea and watches the tv with childlike interest, contemplating whether to come in and reveal he hasn’t slept–but in exchange get to sit and be comfy–or stay hiding in the dark where he knows that Splinter knows he’s there but they both decide to keep quiet about it.

The alien girl turns her hand into green claws with some of the worst cgi Splinter has ever seen and Blue snorts a laugh from his hiding place.

Splinter pretends that’s what made him notice and turns around in his chair, catching the eyes of his second youngest. Guilty.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Well good morning, Blue! Have you come to join me?”

He shifts uncomfortably, fingers tapping on the mug. Blue has never been able to sit still unless he’s reading, it’s been this way since he was small, always grabbing and climbing and bothering his brothers, an energy to him that Splinter misses both in his own aging body and in the original owner. Life has certainly dampened a bit for Blue. Despite the family’s best efforts to not let it be so. Splinter is determined to be present for this and everything. Decided that back when Orange dragged his missing child out of Hell and deposited his broken body into the arms of his family. Reminds himself of this plan each and every day.

Present. Helpful. Can’t change the past or undo what’s been done. Shit sucks but life doesn’t have to. 

Love has always been stronger than anything else. Must be why it hurts so much.

Blue waltzes into the room like he just appeared, fully confident and exhausted.

“Why of course! I wouldn’t miss your shows for anything, Pops!” he says cheerfully, flopping dramatically into the chair and squishing Splinter into one of the arms. Curse his growing boys.

The actors on screen say something that Splinter isn’t even sure counts as Spanish, or they’re butchering the accent. He’s starting to love the show. Flaws and all.

“You’re always welcome with me, Blue,” Splinter says seriously. He takes the mug from where it rotates in Blue’s hands and places it on the end table. Then the scheme part, brings his son down and hugs him. Blue goes easily, daddy’s boy that he is, and engulfs Splinter with a warm hug.

God what if he lost this?

What if the Hamato curse had somehow taken this charming, cunning boy away? Broken all the hearts of those who knew him? The grief would tear them apart. It’d have to.

So Splinter hugs his kid, and hopes for a good day. Everyday is all there is after all, just everyday, and they’re going to live through it. Splinter is so glad they’re living through it. Cheap Spanish soaps and too-early mornings and four living, breathing boys.