Memories
When you find out your sibling ate your donuts without permission
The meme appeared with a photo of an angry bull and Donnie snorted at how relatable it was... if you were Raphael, that is.
He wondered why he even started watching videos about random stuff in the first place. Maybe it was his exhausted mind wanting a break after being used too much for inventing and experimenting, or maybe he just got bored. Or maybe both.
Another meme appeared on the screen.
Best childhood memory: Waking up in your bed no matter where you had fallen asleep.
Donnie read the words before focusing on the picture; a toddler cuddling with her teddy as she slept in her bed, her mother tucking her in. Something clenched deep inside him as he saw that meme. He could never relate to it. He didn't have a mother who would tuck him in if he fell asleep somewhere other than his bed.
He wasn't the one to dwell too much on these kind of things but seeing that photo– reading those words... it gave him a sad longing for all the things he must have missed which come with a mom.
Sure he had a father, and Splinter was no doubt the best father in the world for them and he was very grateful to have him, but still. There are just some things that only a mother does, not father. And he felt his emotions stir for not having all those sweet memories a mother provides, like getting tucked in bed after sleeping somewhere else.
His mind suddenly recalled an image from the earliest years of childhood, from those memories which get tucked into one's subconscious as they grow up. His eyes widened and lit up for a moment before dulling in regret for assuming such a thing about his only parent in the first place.
His father actually had tucked him in after he fell asleep in random places, he just never realized it before.
But then Donnie recalled that it had also happened when his father wasn't at home; atleast a handful of times from what he could remember. Waking up in bed while he had been certain that he never went to bed in the first place. At that time he had just shrugged it off but now that he thought about it, it meant that someone else must have carried him to bed. Someone other than his father.
Digging deeper into the matter, he came to a conclusion as to who could have done that and sudden flashbacks hit him, of a half-asleep mind and the hard yet smooth surface of a plastron.
Closing his eyes, he latched onto those memories before they could drift away and focused on them. They soon started to become clear.
...
Strong arms slid under his knees and shell as someone picked him up with a grunt. Donnie didn't register it, his young, three year old mind too exhausted to care about anything besides the feeling of safety that suddenly consumed him.
"Jeez, Don-Don." Someone spoke to him in a gruff yet gentle voice as his cheek pressed against the cool surface of a plastron, "When did you get so heavy?"
The sound of footstep was coming from below him as his brother carried his half-asleep form to his bedroom and he snuggled closer to the other's plastron, drifting off for a moment.
There was the creek of a door being pushed open and the next thing he felt was gently getting lowered to a bed and a blanket being draped over him.
"Night, Don-Don..."
His brother whispered and that was the last thing he heard before sleep completely overcame him.
...
Donnie snapped his eyes open with a gasp, flabbergasted even though his hypothesis proved to be correct.
He knew that voice all too well. He practically grew up with it, but never in his life had he considered how gentle and caring his elder brother could act at times.
Tough and strong, yet a huge softy on the inside.
The sensation of another flashback was nagging him and not wanting to lose it before he could even see what it held, he put his thoughts aside and latched onto the next fleeting memory, this one from when he was a little more than four years old.
...
He had fallen asleep after a long and exhausting day of disassembling and reassembing various non-working appliances.
A screwdriver was held tightly in his small hand as he leaned against the wall, eyes closed and the object held close to his chest.
There was suddenly a presence next to him as a shadow of another turtle fell over his slumped form and he heard a fond chuckle before his brother kneeled beside him, taking hold of his hand which held the screwdriver. He felt his brother try to take the object away from him and held on to it tighter.
"C'mon, Donnie." He heard the other whisper, "Let go." His small fingers were gently pried open before the pointed tool was taken out of his hand. Then there were hands under his underarms, picking him up and holding him against a plastron.
Donnie moaned as he was picked up and instinctively clung to the person holding him, afraid that he might fall.
"Shhh. I got you."
He heard Leo's voice as the eldest patted his shell while holding him in his arms and Donnie buried his face into his brothers neck, head resting on his shoulder.
He felt the other turtle pause for a while to stroke his head and shell, which calmed him down even more and he relaxed in his sleep, going limp. Then his big brother proceeded to carry him to his room.
As he was being lowered to the bed, he subconciously tightened his hold on the eldest with a whimper.
"It's okay, Dee." Leo comforted with a stroke to his head, "I'm right here."
He was laid down more gently as he heard this and then he felt a blanket covering him, enveloping him in a comforting warmth.
His brother sat next to him and stayed beside him until he felt himself drift away into deeper sleep.
...
This one didn't really surprise him as much.
'Because Leo had always been a motherhen.' He thought.
But it did make Donatello feel all warm and fluffy and happy on the inside, like the previous one had.
Maybe he didn't have a mom. But it didn't mean that nobody cared for him like a mother because someone did; a couple of someones, in fact.
Donnie internally smiled at the realization, recalling more such moments; getting scolded or lectured by one of them– being cared for when he is sick– being protected– being forced out of his lab to eat something– getting comforted after a nightmare– being encouraged when feeling down– being tought to do a kata correctly because he couldn't get it right– getting his tears wiped away after scraping his knee– being supported when upset...
He chuckled. "You guys are sooo receiving some hilarious, embarrassing cards on Mother's Day."
A yawn escaped him as soon as he said this and he blinked a couple of times, just then noticing how tired he actually was. Donnie crossed his arms over the desk infront of him and rested his head on them.
'Ten minutes', he decided as his eyes drifted shut of their own accord. He would rest for just ten minutes and then get back to that experiment he'd been working on. The purple-masked turtle thought to himself just before falling into a dreamless slumber.
%%%%%
When Donatello woke up again, those ten minutes had long been over.
He blinked his eyes open and found that his head wasn't resting on his arms or the desk, but instead on a soft pillow. He wasn't in the lab anymore, sitting on the office chair; He was in his room, laying on his comfy bed with a blanket covering him.
A soft smile appeared on his face as he recalled that Mikey and Splinter had gone to collect supplies from April. Only two other persons were in the lair besides him.
"Softy motherhens..."
Donnie mumbled sleepily and pulled the blanket under his chin, eyes closing shut as he dozed off once again.