Title: Yellow Ribbons

Author: Eiseedoesit

Beta: Andromeda Prime

Summary: While Raph succumbs to grief after losing Leo, Donatello choses to protect what his eldest brother left behind. Raph/Leo, mpreg

Rating: M

Warnings: Mpreg; Tcest; Violence; Slight gore; alcoholism; OC; does writing in a fandom for the first time warrant a warning? XD

Her presence was light, comforting even as she sat on his shoulders, her tiny body slung over his head. Her arms were crossed, her head resting over them as tired eyes skimmed the pages of Donnie's book. She tugged at the back of her uncle's purple mask, partly to ensure he wasn't dozing off but mostly to keep herself from slumping off his shoulders.

"Hey, you okay there kiddo?"

She rubbed her eyes. With a heavy sigh she flopped her tiny body over the older mutant's head, her arms dangling over his eyes and knocking the reading glasses off his face.

"Yes Uncle Don Don," she yawned, "Go on with the story about the...the three bears who ate someone else's food. Please?"

"Really Lucy? Cause you do sound tired,"

"I'm not tire!" The little turtle tot was dangling over his head like a rag as she let out a heavy yawn, "You're tired."

"No Lucia," Donatello lifted her off his shoulders. "Looks like we had enough stories for tonight. Time for bed."

"But I don't need to sleep." She made her displeasure known by grabbing his head in a very Raph-like grip, refusing to budge. "Uncle Mikey never sleeps. And Raph's never here...why can't I just stay up like everyone else?"

"They don't know better." There was a distinct pop as he peeled her off his head. "Well, they do but you're still a kid. Plus it really doesn't take a genius to see you're about to pass out in three...two...one."

And true to Donatello's calculations, little Lucy was out, her mouth still open in mid-protest just as exhaustion won. He took her scarf, a soft yellow one that April had given as a birthday present, and wrapped her securely in it. She squirmed, her freckled face scrunching as she buried herself deeper into her makeshift blanket.

"There ya go. Off to bed." Resting her against his chest, he ventured quietly through the lair, tip toeing over all her scattered books and toys that seemed to multiply whenever April came to visit.

His eyes kept drifting to her, even though he could still feel her breathing and restlessly kicking there was always that paranoid tug at the back of his mind saying he could never be too careful. She groaned, punching something in her sleep so hard her arm slipped out from the blanket. Her face scowled and eased. And in that brief second between distress and peace, Donatello saw Leo again.

Honestly he couldn't help but see his eldest brother whenever he saw Lucy. Her simple gestures, her quirks, and even the cautious spark in her thoughtful blue eyes. The way she was both honest and foolishly fearless, the unspoken sweetness underneath all the mischief. Leo was constantly there. But there were moments when his influence on her would seem sharper, more pronounced. More so in her sleep, in her nightmares. And they were becoming worse as of late.

"Rest easy. We have a full day tomorrow,"

Donatello carefully placed his niece on her cot, pulling out her favorite blue pillow to stuff beneath her tired head. He turned on her nightlight, one of the few sensical gifts Mikey got for her, and gave her one last check before leaving her to rest.

He spent the rest of the hour on his workbench, busy tinkering with a broken laptop. In truth the battered thing was beyond repair, so Donatello did what he did best and just took it all apart to create something new. It was cold in the lair that night, but for some reason he was breaking a sweat, eyes narrowed as he dissected his latest project. He didn't know what it would turn out to be. Perhaps he could give robotics another shot, something for Lucy to chase around the dojo when everyone else got busy. But knowing how these things usually turn out, Mikey would be more entertained by it, probably playfully pushing their niece out of the way to get to the robot first.

For all his shortcomings, Mikey's never-ending enthusiasm was something Donatello appreciated the older they got. Sure it was overwhelming, and at times it felt like he was dealing with two turtle tots running all over him. But there was a determined positivity that Mikey radiated. It was strange and awkward, yes, but it did ease the stark pain that Leo's absence left.

For most of them anyways.

Ten o'clock passed. Splinter bade him goodnight, his sensei telling him to use his glasses to prevent straining his eyes just before disappearing. Donatello did so. Some things, no matter how much both of them aged, simply couldn't be outgrown.

Midnight passed. Heavy snoring poured over the sounds of Mikey's video game, endlessly looping the tune on the menu screen. Donnie got up to turn off the console and TV. And just because he felt generous that night, he also pulled Mikey's half-falling body up on the couch properly, in a way that wouldn't give him a sore neck in the morning.

One o'clock, then two. It was finally three when Raph appeared, one sai strapped behind his shell and the other one tight on his grip. They were both stained, the familiar hue a stale, dark red against the gleaming metal. He was taller, stronger than he was when they were all still young. It amazed Donatello how much his older brother grew, as if the mutagen wasn't through with its strange work. His shell was larger, near impossible to crack now. The veins were swollen against the hard muscles, making him older than his years. His face was grim and fixed into a narrow scowl, the gravity of his anger and resentment weighing down even that part of him.

Neither acknowledged the other, at least verbally. Donatello glared at him briefly before burying his face in his work, smacking his work goggles over his eyes even though he didn't need them.

It wasn't right, the silence between them, the border-line hateful glares they threw at each other. It was futile to try and talk sense to Raphael. Not after what happened to Leo. Any attempts, no matter how gentle, were burned down in a rage only Raph could muster.

Donatello didn't try to stop him anymore. Not even when the news would feature his older brother's latest assault against the Foot. Or when the cringe-inducing photos would flash on the screen, or when the newscasters debated whether the Nightwatcher was a savior of society or a menace greater than the Foot members he slaughtered.

He didn't approve of it. It wasn't what they were meant to do...well, not in the way Splinter intended. But that didn't seem to matter to Raph. And if it didn't matter to Raph, then there was no use trying to convince him otherwise. It was taxing, physically and emotionally. He didn't have the heart for it. Unlike Leo.

Little Leo. That was Mikey's nickname for Lucy, though he only used it when Raph wasn't around. Wisely enough. There was a lot of truth in that nickname, a lot of comfort if one chose to see all the good Leo left behind. And it frustrated Donnie that Raph, of all people, just refused to see it.

Donnie's eyes were painful now, the toil of the day at last catching up to him. He tidied his work station in the traditional style of 'organized chaos' before leaving, the thought of his bed suddenly appealing.

He passed by the dojo, slowing down as Raph kneeled beside an open chest. The red-masked turtle had the chest in the middle of the dojo, going through the assorted treasures inside carefully, staring intently at one piece that Donnie recognized instantly.

"Raph."

Raphael looked up, his eyes heavy and dark. There was anger there, harsh flecks of yellow gleaming against the green orbs. The accusing bitterness in that gaze smothered any affection Donnie held for him.

"Never mind," The younger ninja said, shaking his head, forcing himself to walk away before his resolve to stay civil crumbled. There were other things he wanted to say, many things actually. Resentful, painful, pitiful things. But he kept his mouth sealed. Raph would never listen. And whatever words came from his mouth, no matter how true they were, would only deepen the rift between them.

"Uncle Donnie? Uncle Mikey?"

There was a creak. A thin line of light spread out as a small figure tip toed towards them. She looked like a blob of walking fabric, her yellow blanket wrapped all around her with just those sweet blue eyes peeking out. They shone brightly, even in the dim light, widening when they saw Raph leaning over the mysterious chest with a mask in his hands.

Lucy waddled closer to Raph, standing up as high as she could to get a glimpse of the box. Wobbling, she stood on her toes.

The box shut with a heavy clang. Raph's hand pressed protectively over it. His mouth was tight, his eyes no softer as he turned to face the startled child. Lucy blinked, scampered two steps back, her small body sinking deeper inside her blanket as Raph kicked the box away, as if she meant to snatch it from him.

"What?" Raph's green eyes narrowed. He aged gracelessly, the lines and scars marred his face into something frightening.

Lucy's blue eyes studied him intently. Raph scowled, waving her away. Donnie didn't miss his brother's hesitation, the regret in his step or the weariness of his sigh.

"Go back to your room," Raph said, dismissing her, avoiding even a courteous glance.

"I...I can't go back to sleep," Lucy pipped up, her voice soft and light. "I got scared."

"I don't remember asking," Raph said. "I told you to go to your room."

"I don't wanna go back. I'm scared." In a rare show of defiance Lucy took a step towards him. "Please? I wanna stay here. Look in the box with you-"

"No. Not now. And these things aren't meant for you." Raph's voice rose as Lucy's eyes fell, fixing their sight away from him.

"But I saw some of those things before," Lucy replied. "I can't remember exactly when or where. But that mask-"

"Isn't yours," Raph said, dismissing her as he turned away. "Leave. Now."

Lucy's head was downcast as she obeyed, her soft footsteps hurrying back to her room, the yellow blanket barely concealing her distraught face.

"How could you?" Donatello shook his head. "What were you thinking? Talking to her like that!"

"Not now Donnie," Raph grumbled, walking away from his brother. "I'm not interested in another one of your lectures or your updates on what a terrible fuck up I am."

"Oh believe me Raph, I don't need to announce it."

He didn't stay to see his brother's reaction. He didn't need to. Right now his priority was to undo the damage Raph had done.

"Lucia?"

Donnie knocked the sides of the door before entering.

"Lucy?"

There was soft sobbing and the sound of paper ripping from the spine. The older turtle walked over towards her cot, kneeling and wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"It's okay kiddo," Donnie said. "Raph doesn't know what he's talking about sometimes. You did nothing wrong. It's alright."

"No it's not," Lucy said, wiping the tears from her face, stubbornly ripping the pages from her book. She looked up at her uncle, eyes red and soaked, face pulled down and back in a restrained cry. "He hates me."

Donatello's jaw dropped, his usually sharp mind at a loss for what to say. Lucy kept ripping apart her book, each ruined page a crumpled mess in her fists.

"No...no Lucia. He doesn't hate you," Donnie said.

"I hate him," Lucy replied, sobbing harder, ripping harder. "I hate him!"

Donnie pulled the book away from his niece and wrapped his arms around her. She kept crying, her little fists wound tightly around his neck.

"He doesn't hate you."

"How-" Lucy sniffled, gulping her words half way. "How do you know that Uncle Donnie?"

"I just do," Donnie said, rubbing her back to soothe her. "It's a brother thing. Besides, Raph isn't the best at expressing himself."

Lucy didn't seem convinced, shrugging even as her sobs began to ease.

"You know, love and hate aren't exclusive. Or even opposites. Raph was much worse when he was younger. Just ask your Uncle Mikey. But as tough as Raph was to be around we didn't doubt that he loved us," Donnie said kindly, rubbing the sides of her face gently. "You feeling better now? You look a little bit better."

The child nodded, rubbing her eyes dry.

"Ready to go back to sleep? It's very late,"

She shook her head, wrapping the yellow blanket around herself.

"I had the nightmare again," Lucy said softly. "The one with you getting swept away."

"Oh," Donnie's shoulders slumped. "The one about the river?"

"Yeah," Lucy said, "The water crashed on you. Your mask washed away. They were screaming. It was so dark. Loud. Are dreams supposed to be loud Uncle Donnie?"

"Sometimes they are," Donnie replied. "And sometimes they're not. But no matter what you see or hear in them they're just that, dreams. They can't hurt you. Especially while I'm here."

"I know Uncle Don," Lucy said, resting her head against him.

"You should rest again Lu, you'll need it,"

"Can you stay?" Lucy asked, "Even for a little bit? Please Uncle Don? Please? I promise to be quiet and close my eyes. I promise not to fuss."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and pleading. The memory of his eldest brother, eyes open and pleading, burst in his mind.

"Alright Lucy," Donnie smiled and held the child closer to him. "I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"I don't want the dreams again. I don't want to be scared. I don't want you to go,"

"I can't make promises about the dreams. But I'm right here okay?" Donnie said. "For as long as you need me."

Lucy blinked, her eyes bright with trust only a child could muster. She nodded, accepting his words for truth. Her body fell into a fitful rest, huddling against him. He had no track of the time, resolving to stay whenever she would whine or fidget in her sleep, afraid that she would awake from another nightmare alone. He stroked the top of her head, studying her face with a sad smile. She took so much after Leo that at times it was bridging on haunting. But in that quiet moment the resemblance was gentle and comforting, easing his guilt over his brother's loss.

There was a large shadow at the door, pulling him back from his musings. Raph stood at the doorway, his green eyes aglow as he stared at them. At Lucy.

His large feet shifted, anxious, as if uncertain how they should move. He opened his mouth, hands open and up, but no apology came. Instead he stepped back, turned his gaze away from the sleeping child and left.

"You spoil her."

Donnie's eyes narrowed at his brother's deadpan remark. Raph was sitting on the dojo floor, one hand over his head and the other one clenching the neck of a liquor bottle.

"You coddle her too much; she won't ever be strong. She'll think it's okay to be always in your shadow. She'll never learn to get over those nightmares on her own."

"Oh? Right Raph. I guess you would know. Especially since you've been recovering so well from your nightmares all by yourself," Donnie shook his head, walking towards his brother cautiously.

Raph drank heavily from the bottle, throwing it aside as carelessly as he seemed to treat everything else. The bottle nearly hit Donnie's foot. He dodged it easily.

"Go on. Let's it over with," Raph said, waving his arm out towards his brother. "Go on smart one. I know you have a lot to say. So say it. Say it!"

"It's not your fault."

Donnie waited for a reaction, for a curse or a sai or another bottle to be thrown at him. Instead Raphael was silent, his head bowed down and held in his shaking hands.

Vulnerability was something Raph loathed, something that he would never show in a sober state. As disapproving as Donnie was towards his love of alcohol, he did appreciate that it calmed Raph enough for them to talk for longer than five seconds. Strangely enough Donnie had a hard time recalling anytime where they had a decent conversation after losing Leo that didn't involve some type of liquor. It became like medicine to Raph, numbing him enough to release the pain and grieve.

"Raphael," Donnie kneeled down beside his brother and placed a hand on the broad shoulder. It was hot to the touch, feverish, trembling. "What happened to Leo wasn't your fault."

The younger turtle glanced within the box Raph treasured so much.

"And it's not her fault either."

He caught a glimpse of Leo in a photograph he recalled Mikey taking. Their former leader was young in the photo, the joy in his eyes haunting. There was a bundle of yellow in his arms, the tiny form of Lucy barely seen in his protective embrace.

"And no amount of dead Foot soldiers can change anything. You can't keep living like this Raph. Leo...he wouldn't want this."

Raph pulled his shoulder away, the motions rough, dismissive.

"No. You're wrong Donnie." He tightened his red mask, dark from the tears it caught. He took up his two sai, his gait unwavering as he finally looked his brother straight in the eye.

"To be with us...to be with Lucy...that's what Leo would have wanted. But they took that away," Raph's eyes were blazing as he spoke, the promise of violence deep in his voice. "Don't ask me to forget that. Don't tell me to stop. I won't. Not until they've suffered like we did."

TBC