Chapter Text
“Biting that probably isn’t gonna end well big man.”
Mikey’s tone is impossibly fond, face so soft that Donnie can’t believe his expression isn’t sliding right off.
The snapper makes a loud squawk as the blanket finally relents to his tugging and releases from under the couch. The momentum carries him fully onto his back, forcing a comical oof! as he hits the floor.
It isn’t dangerous, Raph is barely taller than Shelldon, and his shell would do more damage to the floor than vice versa. Donnie knows all this.
Doesn’t stop his entire body from twitching forward, alarm spiking like lightning through his limbs. Mikey rushes forward to help Raph back onto his feet with impossibly gentle hands.
He doesn’t think he's ever had to worry about Raph before. Not like this.
Donnie fiddles more with the wiring in his lap, but makes sure to shuffle it away when Mikey brings Raph over to the booth where he’s sitting.
The snapper is looking at his goggles with barely contained awe, batting absentmindedly at Mikey’s hovering hands. “Donnie, you’re so cool! Did you figure out how to fix the ice cream machine?”
Ah. He remembers the old thing. The first machine he had the opportunity to fiddle with, back when Splinter was still deciding where to settle down. It had ended up barely working, producing wilting results, ice cream just barely out of the range of being slightly chilled cream. It was frankly disappointing, and thinking back on it, Donnie can even pinpoint what mistakes he made in his efforts that brought forth lackluster results.
But his brothers had lit up at the sad products of his labor, hooting and hollering like wild animals as they held the rapidly melting ice cream like it was a precious gem, and the warmth filled him so thoroughly that it never quite left. Donnie doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that feeling.
“I did, I even put a skittles dispenser in it.” He gloats, doesn’t mention the machine is long gone along with the old lair now. “And now, I could even make an entire ice cream factory, with robot workers and everything.” Donnie leaves one eye open to see the results of his shameless bragging.
It works flawlessly. Donnie’s ego has been coasting ever since the incident that turned his big brother into a pint-sized tot. No one makes Donnie feel as ingenious as Raph does, looks at him and his inventions with the same all-encompassing pride.
Mikey, absolute legend that he is, continues on to list out all the incredible tech that Donnie included to the lair, from the toaster with a snarky AI to the new and improved escape pods. The energy bounces between him and Raph in a dizzying display of curiosity and excitement.
His older brother is clapping furiously, delight too overwhelming for his small size. His bright eyes are squeezed shut, all of him radiating a simple, radiant joy.
It’s hard to look sometimes. Look at this small creature and see his older brother, who paces between their rooms when his fears get too heavy, who can single handedly carry their entire family on his broad shoulders. Their invincible older brother, who is forever marked head to toe in the results of his efforts to keep them safe.
This Raph is devoid of scars, plastron and carapace missing everything but minor scuffs. His eyes, both a deep reddish brown, shine bright with wonder as he looks up at his brothers. Not a single wrinkle on his brow, nor heavy bags under his eyes. It’s a bit like looking directly into the sun without proper eye protection. It’s as disorienting as it is off putting. If Donnie thinks about it for too long it starts to make him feel weird about why seeing his older brother without scars is so distressing.
Maybe that’s why Leo had thrown himself into retrieval tasks, still absent from the room because he “has to fetch extra blankets, what if he gets cold?” Acting as if his eyes weren’t skirting around Raph like the sight hurt him. It’s a good thing Raph hadn’t noticed.
Leo owes Mikey big time. Their little brother has been throwing himself in front of their eldest relentlessly, making sure that Raph doesn’t even have the time to think about why Leo isn’t here, why it was taking him so damn long to fetch a couple blankets.
Even though Mikey looks at Raph like he isn’t seeing their older brother in there. Donnie politely doesn’t mention that Mikey is acting an awful lot like Raph, grip on his arm almost desperate, hovering anxiously around the little one like if he looked away for too long, Raph would disintegrate before his eyes.
Leo puts up a good fight before Donnie finally manages to corner him.
Mikey is the undisputed champion of distraction, but it really still must be their older brother in there, because Raph keeps looking around the room, trying to take a headcount of his brothers, brow furrowing when he doesn’t see his blue-banded brother.
Mikey shoots him a pleading look when Raph starts tottering around looking for exits, patting Mikey’s arm with a serious look that really should look more funny on his pudgy face.
“Get in there,” Donnie hisses, two seconds away from sticking his hand under Leo’s bed and dragging the coward out kicking and screaming. He really was nearing the end of his patience. “He’s worried because he hasn’t seen a hint of your sorry shell this entire time.”
At least Leo seems rightfully shameful about the whole thing. There’s a miserable keening sound coming from the floor where Leo’s hiding. He sounds distressed when he squeaks out, “I didn’t mean to make him worry.”
Donnie gives in slightly and gives the entire bed a kick, making it rattle against the subway car wall. It makes Leo squeak which is a bit gratifying, but not enough to make him leave without Leo in tow. “Well you did, so get out here and help Mikey will you? He’s trying to stop Raph from chewing a hole in the wall so he can go find you.”
Honestly, they all felt a little strange about it, but this was ridiculous. Raph was still their brother, tiny or not.
“Leo!”
Raph turns into a little blur, shooting across the living room to envelope Leo into a grasping hug before the slider can do something stupid, like leave.
Tiny arms encircle Leo’s left leg in a death grip, and wow Donnie really should have brought the shell that kept his camera because that could have been Leo’s contact picture for at least a month.
It’s impossible to have doubts when Raph is hugging you, it’s just a fact of the Hamato household. And so Leo melts right down into putty like Donnie knew he would.
“Hey big bro.” Leo mumbles, taking a hold of Raph’s arms so he can lean down and look Raph in the eye for the first time since he got hit by that stray beam of mystic energy. He kneels, and Donnie can feel more than see, the way his brother’s stupid brain finally replaces uncomfortable reminder with Raphael.
“I heard you were looking for me?” He lifts both his arms in that cartoonish way of his, as if saying well, here I am.
Donnie catches Mikey mumbling under his breath, saying something like it only took a 5 minute guilt trip.
But none of that guilt is present now, washed away by the slow way Raph reaches up to Leo, reaching for the scars littered around his face like he did for Donnie and Mikey. And so Donnie knows exactly what Leo is seeing in HD, the way Raph’s face turns into a study in misery, face scrunched as if not comprehending this strange new world he’d been placed in, where his brothers were grown, and have visible signs of hurts littered across their bodies.
They’d had a talk with their Raph about it, dragged out during a turtle pile turned therapy session. It feels like failure, he’d said, voice rough and low like he was uttering some forbidden ugly secret. It feels like failure to see all the scars I couldn’t stop, hits I didn’t intercept.
Donnie can see that side of Raph surface when little Raph looks at them, eyes catching on the scrapes and scratches, snagging his attention and not letting go. And damn, if it doesn’t feel like failure for him too, to see his older brother worry about them, attempt to shoulder their pain even now, 13 years younger.
“Raph! Be careful!” Mikey’s voice carries sharply through the subway tunnel that makes up the arcade. It’s tense with a worry that has Donnie on edge, but he’s not surprised to round the corner and see Mikey lifting Raph away from one of the raised rails.
“Mikey, put me down!” Raph squawks indignantly, legs flailing in the air.
Mikey just huffs in a way that he probably doesn’t realize is Raph’s, barely containing an eye roll. “You gotta watch your step big man, the concrete here is rougher than the sewer tunnels.” He sets the offended turtle on the ground and nods slightly to acknowledge Donnie as he strolls in.
Raph is still evidently a bit miffed by the treatment. “I’m not a baby!” He bites out, sticking a leg out to step exaggeratedly over the rail, and looks up with a slightly haughty expression afterward, as if he had gotten some kind of upper hand by not falling on his face. It’s absolutely adorable.
Mikey shoots Donnie an exasperated look, as if to say can you believe? But Donnie absolutely can, returning his look with a knowing smile of his own.
It’s not a big deal, it's really not. There is no danger, but it still doesn’t lessen the sting.
Their lair is safe, kitted out top to bottom with Donnie’s tech in order to keep both humans and hostile yokai away, but ninja senses never quite dulled enough for them to be caught unawares. It heightened even more after the Shredder and the Kraang, but these days, threats rarely made it anywhere near the safety of the lair.
They didn’t register the rustling of the kitchen curtain being pushed aside, because the presence behind it was one they trusted, so normal that it hardly even registered anymore. They didn’t think to remember that Raph had no such established trust.
Donnie is still sitting at the table, legs locked underneath him uselessly. It feels as if his spine has been fused together, held tight with tension. Leo and Mikey at least have gotten to their feet, faces and limbs locked in the same frozen state.
And Raph, tiny little Raph, is standing firm in front of their little gathering, hissing up a storm as he stares April down.
Distantly, Donnie winces at the fact that he didn’t think to text April, Casey, or Casey Jr. about what had happened. In his defense, eight hours of frantic scanning had confirmed that whatever mystic spell had turned Raph into a child would wear off in a handful of days, with no side effects to speak of. In the rush of adapting to this new version of his brother, it had slipped his mind to let his human family know that Raph would be a bit smaller than usual this week.
And the results of his forgetfulness are staring him in the face, April is clearly bewildered at the sight before her, bat raised either from adrenaline or the sheer shock.
April would never hurt Raph, could never, but the sight still puts a pit of something snarling and angry in his stomach all the same. As does the sight of Raph, his 5 year old big brother, standing firm between his adult brothers and this new addition he has deemed a threat, holding firm in his position. His hands are shaking where they curl in front of him.
Memories, the sound of his big brother’s laugh. Raph is always bravest when you guys are behind him! A blinding grin, spilling confidence.
Oh, Donnie thinks, there’s that ashy taste of failure again.
Leo is the first to break out of the wave of emotions, lucky bastard. “Hey Apes, uh. Sorry about the surprise but meet tiny Raph,” he coughs, “tiny Raph, meet April.”
He gestures wildly and a little stupidly at April, eyes still wide and frozen in an expression Donnie can't parse through.
April shakes herself back into working order, lowering the bat slowly to the sound of Raph continuing to rumble threateningly, though the hissing had stopped once Leo spoke up. “Hey little guy,” she soothes, “I’m a friend of your brothers, April O’Niel.” She probably thought Raph would take it better than introducing herself as his older sister. But Donnie doesn’t think Raph could possibly think her to be anything else, not when April kneels at Raph’s level and extends her hands, as steady as she’s been their whole lives.
Raph eyes her hands with a flinty gaze, but eventually relents, inching forward with one last glance backwards at his brothers as if to gauge their reactions. Whatever he finds, it relaxes him, and he places both hands gingerly in April’s.
“Hi,” Raph mumbles out, suddenly seeming shy. His tail curls around to curve around his feet, standing straight the way Splinter taught them to greet others.
April’s gaze melts into honey, recognition shining through the confusion. “There you are,” she breathes. “Hello Raph.”