Chapter Text
Splinter neatly folded up the heating pads, and stored them away. Surely now that his newly acquired sons had dried off and were settled together on their blankets they wouldn’t need them for the time being. He settled down next to the blankets and spent a moment watching the turtles sleep on their blankets. They looked so peaceful, curled up and napping peacefully.
He slowly dozed off to the soft sounds of his son's gentle breathing. Then woke up an hour later, to Blue screaming his head off. He was trying to waddle over to Purple again. Splinter scooped him up before he could do so.
“Now, Blue,” Splinter hushed, “please…”
As he was gently rubbing a finger over Blue’s back he saw the empty orange blanket out of the corner of his eye, though he could have sworn Orange had been sleeping soundly just a moment ago. Sighing, he set Blue back down on his blanket to look around for the smallest turtle, who he hoped had not wandered far.
He made it a few feet down the hall before he heard Blue’s screaming again followed by Purple’s curious chirping. He just wanted to look for his missing kid and the others decided that now they needed the attention.
He went back to the blankets, picked up Blue and Purple, put Purple in the pocket of his robe, and held Blue in one hand. He checked on Red, who was still sleeping soundly, then set out to go find Orange.
Blue kept making happy little churring noises, making it hard for Splinter to listen for the sounds of Orange’s waddling feet. “Shhh, if you’re not quiet I won’t be able to find your brother.”
Blue just looked up at his father, not understanding a word he said.He spun himself around in Splinter’s hand and kept churring.
Sprinter sighed, continuing his search for his missing son, he couldn’t have gone far. Though he wasn’t sure as Orange was nowhere in sight, not on or under any of the blankets, not with Red, and seemingly not in the main room where he had been keeping them.
Splinter clicked his tongue, “Orange? Orange, come here, you can’t wander off like this.” Of course to no avail.
Then he felt little claws climbing up his chest, as Purple decided that he was no longer going to sit still for the joyride and was instead going to crawl out of Splinter’s pocket, crawl across his chest, and then down his leg to scrambled across the floor. All the way through letting out little chirps as he set off from his father.
“Gosh, no, Purple!”
Purple skittered, slipping just out of reach from Splinter every time he attempted to snatch him up from the floor. The little soft shell slipped into the kitchen and attempted to climb up the leg of a chair. Luckily, he didn’t make it much further than that, as Splinter was finally able to scoop him up before he could escape again.
Huh, the oven was slightly open. He didn’t remember leaving it like that. Though, he supposed he may have, he had been so distracted trying to herd his sons away from any possible danger, that he couldn’t necessarily say if he had closed it last time he cooked.
One of the boys had begun to make a quiet peeping noise, though Blue had fallen asleep in his hold, and Purple was busy trying to gnaw on his hand. But yet, there it was, a persistent peeping.
Peep, peep, peep peep.
Maybe he had finally lost his mind and was hearing things, though his oven didn’t make such a noise, it’s beeping was loud and screechy. This was a softer sound.
As Splinter got closer he could hear a scratching and shuffling from within the oven. Something was lightly pushing at the door from the inside. He pulled the door open further with a creeeeaaaakkk .
Orange tumbled out from the oven, rolling onto his back and waving his feet in the air, looking just as baffled as Splinter. At least this solved the case of his missing son.
“Orange?”
“ Peep, peep, peep !”
Purple perked up in his hand, momentarily stopping his nibbling. Those sharp little teeth removed themselves from Splinter’s palm as the soft shell turned his snout to the floor. Then he squirmed in his hold trying to get to the floor.
“No, Purple!” Splinter held his hand higher. He slipped the sleeping Blue into his pocket in hopes that he would stay asleep in there as Splinter used his newly emptied hand to lift Orange from the floor.
Purple curled around Splinter’s thumb, staring at Orange like he was a predator and growling like a little beast.
Orange just kept up his little peeping, staring up at Splinter with his big round eyes, unaware of his territorial brother wanting to hunt him down.
“Why would you go in the oven, Orange?”
“Peep, peep!”
Yeah, that wasn’t the answer he wanted. Orange was nice and warm in his hand. Purple was somewhat cold, but he was still huddling into his palm in an attempt to suck up the warmth. Maybe they would be needing those heat packs after all . . .
---
The afternoon was turning out to be rather quiet for Orange. He was in his room like usual, lying in the middle of the floor on his belly. Crayons and artwork were scattered around him in an arch. He was working on one particular piece using tons of different colors. It was going to be amazing.
Orange set his blue crayon down and stood up to admire his work. It was quite the family portrait in his opinion. He knelt down and picked up the drawing, holding it up to the light. It was perfect.
He scampered from his room and raced down the hall looking for a family member to show it off to.
“Lee!” He shouted after his brother in blue as the slider was exiting his own room. Blue paused after closing his door, his mismatched eyes focusing on Orange running right towards him.
Blue looked rather drained. His eyes were rimmed in red, his shoulders hunched, but he still gave his little brother a small smile.
“Look, Lee! Look!” Orange cheered, holding up his family portrait so that Blue could see it clearly.
“Whoa, that’s so cool, Mikey,” Blue commented, patting Orange on the head before he turned away. He continued walking down the hall, leaving Orange by his door. Blue’s hands were all balled up in the blue jersey he’d taken to wearing.
“Wha-Lee? Where you goin’?” Orange turned to follow after his brother, scampering alongside him.
“I’m just gonna find Raphie,” Blue answered. Orange was struggling to keep up with him.
“I show Raphie the art too!”
Blue turned and stopped him with a hand. “No, I think you should go show Don first . . .”
Orange lit up at the idea, and nodded like a bobblehead, already on his way down the hall to find Purple.
Purple’s door was shut and techno music was blasting behind it, the sound only slightly muffled by the door. Orange put his entire body up against the door and pushed it open with everything he had. The door creaked, and gave way. The music hit him as soon as the door opened. Purple was at his desk, bobbing his head to the music as he fiddled with something on the desk.
“Dee?” Orange called into the room, but his voice was drowned out by his brother’s loud music.
Purple twitched at his desk. He was putting blocks together, pulling them from that old, withered box and clicking them together to make something bigger. Currently, it looked like he was building a miniature robot out of the bricks. Purple had completed his work on the head and one of the arms, using mostly purple and black bricks with only bits of green mixed in.
“Dee?” Orange shouted a little louder.
Purple stilled for a moment before turning his head. He noticed the door open and moved to switch off his music as soon as possible.
“Michael?” Purple chirped, setting his creation down on his desk. “What you doing here?”
“I—”
“Sorry, I meant what are you doing here?” Purple rushed to correct himself.
“I want you see drawing!” Orange held up his picture, sparkling with excitement.
Purple tilted his head. “Huh? That’s not—”
Orange interrupted him by scampering up to his brother’s chair and holding his paper up close to Purple’s face. The paper brushed Purple’s snout and he flinched back slightly, rubbing his sensitive nose with a hand.
“I can’t see it if you hold it that close,” he said, trying to scoot back to better see what Orange was trying to show him.
Orange giggled, pulling the drawing away slightly so his brother could get a better look at it.
“That’s great, Michael,” Purple said before turning right back to his desk and clicking another brick onto his creation.
“Ba-but you didn’t look?” Tears welled in Orange’s eyes, upset at how quickly he had been brushed away, not just by Purple, but Blue as well.
“I looked,” Purple argued, “I said it was great.” His attention was still pulled away by his colorful bricks, not paying much mind to Orange.
“But . . . Lee said it cool!”
“Michael, ‘Lee said it was cool,’ please use proper English. And I am not Leo, my opinions will defer—differ from his.”
Orange was full on crying at this point, “You, you don’ like my drawing!”
“Of course I like it, I said it was great.” Purple looked over, seeing his distressed brother throwing a fit.
Orange was not having it, Blue had already sent him off on his way, he wasn’t going to be ignored by Purple as well. And so the tears continued to flow, and Purple’s irritation grew with his younger brother.
Purple’s mouth extended into a long thin line, his eye twitched, and a slight growl rumbled from the back of his throat as his irritation grew. “If you’re going to throw a tantrum, take it out of my room.”
“Why you being so mean?” Orange whined, stomping his foot.
“That sentence doesn’t make any sense and I am not being mean. You wanted my opinion and you got it. You came into my personal space to throw a fit, I have every right to ask you to leave,” Purple took in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Orange’s cries however, were unrelenting, and so to block out the noise, he turned his music back on. He was done with this conversation, and wanted to return to his build.
Orange wasn’t just going to sit by as his brother chose to ignore him. Instead, he waddled around Purple’s chair to reach for the homemade radio himself. Barely able to reach, his grubby little hands snatched the radio, and turned the dial, just as he had seen Purple do time and time again previously.
The music cut out. Purple stilled, slowly turning to look down at Orange. He took the radio back from him and set it back on his desk, turning the dial until the music came back.
Orange was still crying, and with his close proximity to Purple, the music wasn’t enough to block out the persistent noise. His shoulders hunched and his head twitched as he tried to regain his focus to no avail.
Finally, he turned the music off himself and fully turned to Orange to address the issue at hand.
“Get out,” Purple crossed his arms with a glare.
Orange didn’t stop crying, “No! You always here, never out with everyone else!”
Purple felt a growl rumble in his throat.
“Why you never wanna see me? Are you goin’ dis-pear like Dad?”
“I am nothing like Dad!” Purple snapped at that comparison.
Orange flinched. Purple was baring his fangs and growling at him. Orange stepped back at the hostile response, his cries dying down to whimpers, and his drawing crumpled up from his grip on it.
Purple’s eyes studied him for a moment before he leaned back, his aggressive position gone in an instant replaced by something that he could have sworn was fear. Maybe Orange was right to compare him to Splinter.
He turned back to his desk and hid his face in his arms.
“Dee?” Orange peeped, still nervous, still afraid.
Purple didn’t answer. He didn’t even move.
“Dee?” Orange repeated, with more insistence, taking a hesitant step forward.
Purple poked out his snout from underneath his crossed arms. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he muttered.
Orange giggled a little. His brother looked so silly with just his snout poking out. In response, Purple stuck out his tongue, which only made his brother giggle and laugh more, the tension in the room breaking.
---
Excitement was buzzing the lair as Raph had just returned from the surface, this time with more than food, having brought a bag with him to pick up additional trinkets. One of the items he had snagged on his trip was a game labeled as ‘Lou Jenga’ and had a large smiling picture of the movie star on the box, alongside wooden blocks.
Leo bounced around chanting, “Let’s play!” once Raph brought the game into the empty projector room. Usually Splinter was holed up in there, but for some reason he had yet to be woken up. Due to this absence, Donnie had taken up residence in the smaller bean bag, curling up in it for a nap. When Leo and Raph barged in, he lazily picked his head up, looking back at his brothers for whatever antics they may be up to.
“Don! Lou Jitsu game!” Leo shouted, excitedly shaking his fists up and down.
Donnie rolled over in the bean bag.
Leo shuffled over to him, walking on his knees to shake his twin’s shoulder. “We have to play!”
Donnie let out a low growl but still opened his eyes again. “If you must play, then go get Mikey. I will only play if Mikey plays.”
“Mmm, okay!” Leo chirped and got up off the ground. He scampered past Raph as he started to set up the game in the middle of the floor and started down the hall to Mikey’s room.
The door was open when he got there, the box turtle in the process of pinning pictures up above his desk while standing on his old, shakey wooden desk chair. He didn’t notice Leo until he started screaming again.
“Raph brought home a game!” Leo cheered, stomping into Mikey’s room and started to pace back and forth across Mikey’s withered orange rug. The sudden noise startled the little turtle, causing him to almost fall from his chair.
“Leo!” Mikey yelped, “Not cool.”
“Raph brought back a game! Don said he won’t play if you don’t, so you gotta play!”
Mikey chuckled, “Okay, okay.” He got down from the chair and set his artwork back on his desk.
Leo grabbed his hand as soon as the artwork was laying flat again and dragged his brother from the room, pulling him back to the projector room where Raph was still setting up the new game.
“Leo, slow down,” Mikey complained, feeling his arm starting to get pulled as he struggled to keep up.
Then Leo suddenly stopped, and Mikey ran into his back. Leo didn’t budge, but Mikey bounced off his brother. Leo was as straight as a board, completely frozen in the doorway.
“Leo, what’s—Dad!”
Splinter turned to look at the both of them but only smiled.
Donnie was still on his bean bag, laying flat enough that only a his of his back and his head was showing from where he was buried in it. Despite the plush bean bag, Donnie still managed to look uncomfortable. His lips in a thin line as he looked between Leo and Splinter, then to Mikey and Splinter.
Raph was still setting up all the blocks, his movement somewhat jerky now.
“Dad!” Mikey chirped, hopping over to their father with a bright smile and arms wide open.
Splinter hugged Mikey back with a strange look, but still let the box turtle sit next to him.
“Ah, boys, what is it that you are doing now? I thought Red had only left for food?”
“I—uh—I found a Lou Jitsu game, Pops,” Raph explained, gesturing to the tower he had just built out of the blocks. “You gotta take pieces out, answer the question, then put the block on top of the tower.”
“Oh, very interesting, Red,” The rat answered, “Would you boys mind if I played as well?”
Donnie’s eyes widened for a moment before he played it off like he was unbothered. Leo scratched the back of his neck from the spot he had taken next to his twin, leaning up against the side of the bean bag. Raph fiddled with his hands, suddenly all too aware that he had nothing to do with them.
“Sure you can!” Mikey exclaimed.
“Excellent!” Splinter laughed.
The game was going fine. They would each take their turns around in the circle they sat in, picking up a block, reading out the question that they would then answer, and then slotting the block back on the tower’s top.
Leo slid a piece out from the middle and looked at the block's side, reading out the question.
“ What’s Lou Jitsu’s signature catch phrase? Oh, that’s an easy one! Hot soup!” He cheered, punching the air upward for emphasis. He then plopped the piece right on top of the tower.
Donnie was next. He pulled his hand out from underneath himself to carefully slide a block out from near the bottom of the stack. He held it up to his face, pushing his glasses up and squinting.
“ What Lou Jitsu comic book was the first to feature a fight entirely using ladders? Ah, that would be Little Jacob’s Ladder, issue number thirty-six in the original Lou Jitsu comic series,” Donnie prattled off as he went to place his wood block on top next to Leo’s.
Leo groaned, “This is why we don’t play trivia with Donnie.”
Splinter blinked. “A difficult question for some. At least he was correct.”
Mikey giggled, “Of course, Donnie’s correct. He really likes trivia!”
Donnie frowned and hid his hand back underneath himself, resting his head back on the edge of the bean bag.
“Anyways, my turn!” Splinter announced. He bent over and easily slipped a block from the center of the tower. “
“ What type of movies does Lou Jitsu star in? Haha, that’s easy. Chopsocky Action!” He mimed a chop, disrupting the floor the game sat on, causing it to shake. The tower steadily shook until crumpling into a pile of wood blocks, putting an end to the game.
Leo let out an audible protest.
Mikey chuckled. “Oh, looks like you lost, Dad.”
“But I didn’t touch it,” Splinter objected.
“It still fell,” Donnie muttered, “and it was still your turn.”
“Rules are rules, Pops, better luck next game,” Raph added, trying to keep the tension low. He moved to start collecting all the pieces together to put them back in the box so they wouldn’t lose any of the blocks. Despite the tension throughout the game with having Splinter present, Raph still found himself having fun.
Raph froze when Splinter grabbed his arm to stop him.
Leo fidgeted in his spot.
Splinter immediately let go, his eyes flickering to Mikey for only a second. “No—uh—how about we play again? That game went by far too fast.”
“Uh, okay,” Raph said, “guys? Up for another game?”
Everyone nodded while Mikey cheered.
And so the Raph set about putting all the blocks back into a tower with Leo’s help. Once the tower was back up they started answering more questions. The tower began to get more riddled with gaps where the blocks once were.
Leo pulled a block and read it out. “ What Lou Jistsu comic— hey, we already got this one! It was Little Jacob’s Ladder, I remember thanks to Mr. Trivia’s answer.”
“Such is the downside to Trivia games when you play again, questions are bound to repeat,” Donnie commented.
Leo put his block back gently, being oh-so-careful as to not topple the already unstable tower.
Donnie shuffled to get his limb back, then skillfully pulled a piece. He cleared his throat and read out the question on the side of the block.
“ What was the title of the first Lou Jitsu video game? That would be Lou Jitsu’s Hot Soup: The Game. It was a limited run Atari style video game-”
“Can it, Purple,” Splinter snapped, “Just place the block back so I may go.”
Donnie’s mouth shut with an audible click. He set his block down and hid his hand again, putting his head down again like before.
Splinter took his turn and managed to not topple the tower. The game was able to continue until it got back around the circle to Donnie. Donnie had turned in his bean bag so that he was no longer facing the tower at all.
After Leo had set his block down with a proud smile, he noticed his twin wasn’t moving to make his turn. “Earth to Dontron, hey, it's your turn now.”
Donnie didn’t answer. His short tail flicked slightly, but he mostly didn’t move
“Don?” Leo tried again with growing concern.
“There's no need to be so dramatic, Purple, now hurry along so we can continue to play.”
“Hold on, Pops, he might just need a moment,” Raph interjected. “Hey, Donnie . . . are you feeling alright?”
“You see, Purple, this is why you’re much more difficult than your brothers, you don't see them taking such petty breaks during game night of all times,” Splinter laughed. “Do you think Lou Jitsu would need to take breaks like this?”
Donnie made a noise and moved to cover his ears with his arms, trying to sink further into the bean bag, though with how settled into it he already was, he didn’t make it much further.
“Let’s just continue on with the game,” Mikey tried. “We can always circle back ‘round to Dee, or have him take a double turn.”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Mikey!” Raph added.
Splinter shook his head. “No, because then the tower will be all thrown off, Purple needs to stop being a brat and take his turn.”
“But, Dad, that just makes it easier? Why can’t he just rest for one turn?” Leo suggested.
“No, I don’t need it easier. Like Red said before, ‘rules are rules,’ now stop whining, Purple, and play the game, you’re not going to be allowed to sit here and sulk.”
At that, Donnie groaned, but rolled over and moved to leave, he was done with dealing with Splinter’s nonsense for the night.
“I didn’t say you could go, Purple, sit down,” Splinter had quickly stood up, grabbing Donnie’s arm and holding him in place. “Now, let’s have a nice family game night, we will discuss your behavior later,” the threat in his voice was clear.
“Let me go,” Donnie hissed, snapping his teeth, and yanking at his arm that was trapped in Splinter’s hold.
“Hey, that is no way to behave,” Splinter pointed at Donnie’s face, his grip tightening around his arm.
The room was still. Raph was getting up to intervene, getting himself off the floor slowly without being too obvious with Mikey around. He glanced over at met eyes with Leo, nodding his head over toward Mkey.
Leo carefully scooted around to Mikey. The sounds of Donnie and Splinter’s argument fading into the background as Leo gently nudged his little brother’s arm.
“Hey, let’s go back to your room, Raph’s gonna split them up before things get too nasty. Let’s just get out of all this noise.” Leo tried to keep his tone light when in reality he was reeking with fear. Fear for his twin, fear for his brother, fear for himself. Fear of what Splinter would do.
“No,” Mikey shuffled away, trying to look over where Raph was blocking off Donnie and Splinter from view. He could still hear it, Donnie hissing and grunting as he tried to pull away just barely muted out by Splinter yelling at him for his “disrespectful behavior.”
Leo gently held Mikey’s shoulder, trying to get his attention again, “You shouldn’t watch this . . .”
“What do you mean I shouldn’t, that’s my brother too—”
He was cut off by a sharp clap!
“Splinter!” He heard Raph snarl. “Back off!”
Raph finally forced himself between them. Mikey was able to see it more clearly even with Leo trying to get in the way.
Donnie was on the ground next to the recliners side table. There was a cut in his forehead that was bleeding profusely. Mikey’s eyes widened. He had never seen so much blood. Donnie was holding his cheek though, silent tears streaming down his face. He must have hit his head on the side table when he was slapped… by their father.
Leo had left Mikey’s side, darting to get to his twin. Raph’s arguing and fighting with Splinter only increased, their yelling consuming the room.
Mikey wasn’t able to fully focus on the situation as his world view shattered. He knew Splinter wasn’t a good father, but he didn’t know it was this bad. He just thought Splinter didn’t have the time for them and that sometimes he forgot to go out to get food so Raph offered to do it instead.
He was able to pick out a few words from Raph and Splinter’s argument. Like how he needed to stop hitting Donnie . . . As though this kind of thing had been happening for a while now.
Raph’s yelling wasn’t helping Splinter’s soured mood. The rat may have been shorter but he was still quite strong, managing to shove Raph to the side and get past him to where Donnie and Leo were crouched behind the recliner.
Leo stood up in front of his twin.
“Stop it, he’s down. Can’t you see you’ve done enough?” Leo begged, only to be pushed aside into the same side table Donnie had hit his head on. Leo’s head banged into the corner and he yelped, his hand shooting to where he had bumped it.
Donnie scrambled back, his one hand smearing blood onto the floor as he moved. He backed up to where Mikey still stood, frozen in horror at the scene unfolding before him.
“D-dad?” Mikey didn’t understand. He didn’t want to, even as tears welled in his eyes, and he started realizing why his brothers were so much more on edge around Splinter.
Splinter froze. He looked down at Donnie then back up at Mikey, his face becoming blank rather than angry. Then, he just turned and left. Probably to return to his room.
Donnie finally let himself cry louder, tears mixing with dripping blood. He curled more around himself, bringing his knees up to his chest, not being able to escape into hiding into his self-dubbed ‘battle shell’, which he had left in his room. He had designed it just for this purpose, but Splinter wasn’t supposed to be there. It was him and his brother’s game night, without Dad. He was supposed to be safe.
Raph didn’t move, his eyes unable to focus.
Leo moved straight for his twin. He knelt next to Donnie in an attempt to calm him down. He opened the bag that he had started to carry on his person and took out a white cloth that he held to Donnie’s head wound.
“Mikey—uh—can you come down here and help me,” Leo asked, his voice cracking. The rag was already soaking through, red beginning to stain Leo’s fingers.
“You never—”
“Mikey we’ll talk about it later,” Leo said a bit more sternly, before softening out again, “Please, just help me.”
“O-okay…”
Mikey got down beside Leo and Leo instructed him to hold the cloth to Donnie’s head, being sure to tell his younger brother to apply some pressure even if he thought it would make it hurt.
Donnie’s face was blank, tears still running down his face as he stared ahead unblinking like Raph.
Leo got out some thread and a sewing needle he had spent weeks bending so it was just right for sutures. He didn’t have anything to numb it, but with the rate at which Donnie was bleeding the stitches would be necessary.
Mikey whimpered as he saw Leo set out his needle.
“It’s fine, Mikey, I’m gonna fix him up, and then we can all talk,” Leo attempted to calmly explain. “We—well, Raph, mostly, he didn’t want you to have to know, you’ve always looked up to Splinter more than any of us.”
Mikey watched as Leo threaded the needle with practiced ease. He had measured out the thread perfectly, it was short enough for only a few stitches, as little as he could do without it being dangerous. “How-how long . . .”
Leo didn’t answer, his mouth a fine line. Mikey didn’t push further, too long was the silent answer. Leo’s hands were slightly shaking as he held the needle driver and his homemade forceps.
“This is gonna hurt, Don, but you’ll be okay. You’ve done this before…” Mikey could hear Leo whisper before he started.
Mikey turned away before the needle could touch Donnie, after he was instructed to take the rag away. He was still holding that rag. The whole of it was coated in red that was beginning to stain his own hands. Donnie’s blood was coating his hands. He could hear Donnie whimpering as Leo sewed his head wound shut.