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It’s movie night in the lair, and Leonela’s gathering up all the extra blankets and pillows she can find out of their closets to make them all a cozy nest on the couch. Raph and Donnie, meanwhile, have both been assigned to handle snack and drink duty respectively, with Raph in charge of microwaving all the popcorn and Donnie taking care of the sodas, and Leonela can’t help the loving smile that blooms over her face as Mikey eagerly claps his hands in joy once the sound and smell of popcorn begins to fill the air.
It’s his turn to pick the films, so he’s sitting on the armrest of the sofa and idly flipping through a stack of DVDs with a big grin on his face, his legs swinging leisurely back and forth in front of him as he does.
“Ooh, I’m guessing somebody’s excited?” Donnie muses, stepping into the living room with a can of Dr. Pepper and a bag of what Leonela assumes to be plain popcorn (based on past experience) in both hands before setting them down on the coffee table and gently ruffling the top of Mikey’s head, loosely throwing an arm around his shoulders as it makes him laugh out loud.
“Heya, Dee!” he greets happily. “Do you wanna come sit next to me?”
“Yeah, bud, of course,” he agrees easily, turning on his heel to walk back towards the kitchen as he starts calling out to them over his shoulder. “Just let me go grab some more stuff out of the fridge real quick, it won’t take me more than a minute. What sort of combos do you guys want?”
“Ooh, ooh! Me first!” Mikey cheers, so excited that he can hardly contain himself. “I want an orange Fanta and a whole lot of caramel popcorn!”
“A Sprite and some nacho cheddar popcorn’s fine, thank you.”
From inside of the kitchen, they hear Raph mutter, “Cherry Coke or something’ll work,” more to himself than anyone else. He doesn’t say anything about popcorn because he’s most likely making his own bag—buffalo wing popcorn, if past trends are anything to go by. The guy really likes his spice.
“Gotcha!” Donnie hollers back to them, heading over towards the fridge to get everyone the drinks they requested, and then he grabs hold of the handle and easily swings open the door.
A little bit too easily, in fact.
He apparently severely misjudges how much effort it takes to open the refrigerator door, and as such it comes hurtling towards him much faster than it has any feasible right to before whacking him directly in the face, which subsequently sends him toppling over backwards and landing squarely on his carapace with a loud thud. Hearing all of this commotion, his siblings of course all start freaking out and practically teleport right to his side to examine his shell and make sure he’s not badly hurt—and then alarm bells quickly begin blaring like crazy in Leonela’s head when blood comes oozing out of his nose and his face scrunches up like he has to sneeze, and he frantically tries to scrabble his way underneath the counter on clumsy arms and legs before seemingly just giving up, huddling in on himself, and starting to cry.
And Donnie—Donnie’s not a crier.
“Whoa, hey—Don!” Leonela breathes, hurriedly lunging forward and kneeling down in front of him with Mikey and Raph not too far behind her, and his loud, frantic sobs almost immediately quieten to weak little sniffles as he looks up at her with wide eyes filled with such an easy and innocent sense of trust that she can almost feel her heart shattering—oh, she really hopes he’s not concussed. “Are you alright, bud, are you hurt? Can you tell me what hurts, did you hit your head when you fell?”
Donnie just starts crying even harder at all the questions, and he sounds eerily like a frightened child as he desperately backs away from them further still and shakes his head over and over again, which—wait.
Maybe…
“Are you little, sweetheart?” she whispers, her voice hovering just on the edge of a coo, and Donnie flinches in visibly startled surprise and glances warily at her like he’s been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar before nodding shyly. “Yeah? You are, you’re just a little guy? Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, buddy—you know, I think I remember a certain somebody rushing to come and get me the first time I was feeling small to tell me the same thing.”
Donnie giggles quietly at that—not a snicker, not a chuckle, but an actual, genuine little giggle—and Leonela’s heart very nearly melts at the sound. “Yeah…tha’s true…”
Bringing up that memory seems to remind Donnie of something, and he starts fidgeting with one of the zippers on his tool belt before reaching into the pocket and pulling out a relatively small, but rotund yellow ducky plushie, which he sighs in relief upon finding and contentedly hugs close to his chest.
“Is that your buddy?” Leonela asks knowingly, receiving a shy, tiny head nod in response. “They’re very cute…can I take a look at your beak, little one?”
Donnie clings even tighter to his plushie for a moment before his grip relaxes and he reluctantly nods his head, and Leonela stands up and grabs an old, threadbare washcloth off the counter before soaking it under the sink, wringing out all the excess water and very, very gently cleaning the blood from his face, then simply opting to go ahead and throw it away once she’s done because of the state it’s in. Once that’s all finished, she washes her hands and sits back down in front of him before cupping both of his cheeks in her hands and carefully tilting his head in the light from one side to the other to check for any more bleeding or bruising, or, forbid, anything broken; but to her immense relief, she only finds a tiny bruise right in the center of his snout.
”Nope, no boo-boos here!” she reports with a big smile, earning her a delighted squeak. “You’ve got yourself a clean bill of health!”
Then something behind her seems to grab Donnie’s attention, and he slowly uncurls from around himself and shyly peeks out beside her before looking straight at Mikey, chirping curiously while hesitantly reaching for him with his free hand, and aww, the little guy’s latched on to Mikey, that’s absolutely precious.
“Hm? Do you wanna go see Mikey, buddy?” she asks, looking back at Mikey and politely waving him over with a little tilt of her head. “I bet he wants to come see you, too!”
“Aw, yeah, you bet, little man!” With a gentle, encouraging smile, Mikey scoots in closer to the pair and opens his arms wide and welcoming for a hug, and Leonela whirls around just in time to watch as he swiftly catches an armful of trembling toddler, who then promptly proceeds to bury his face in his shoulder to try and stifle his hiccuping cries.
(The sight—with Donnie all curled up in the tiniest little ball that he could manage to squeeze himself into, smaller than Leonela had even thought possible with their shells, just so he would fit in Mikey’s lap—might have almost been funny if it wasn’t also so cute.)
“Aw, Lolo, it’s okay, you can cry!” Mikey coos sympathetically, hugging him tight and gingerly kissing the crown of his head as he gently rocks him from side to side. “You don’t gotta hide it! Crying is healthy, buddy, it’s good to cry!”
“…nuh-uh…” Lolo fusses weakly, almost fearfully, clutching his stuffed ducky even closer, and his little voice is so soft and sad that it almost hurts Leonela to hear. “Gon-na—gon-na ge’ mad a’ me, all ge’ mad—an’—”
“Honey, nobody’s gonna get mad at you for crying, I promise,” Mikey croons, lovingly nudging his forehead against Lolo’s cheek. “We all have to cry sometimes, you know?”
“‘aphie doesn’t…” Lolo mumbles with a dejected little shrug, staring at the floor with a look on his face far too solemn for any child. “He never ever cries…an’ now he’s gon-na be real mad a’ me.”
“Wha—?” Raph splutters, scrambling over to the both of them as fast as he possibly can because where on earth did that come from, it’s not true at all and massaging little circles into Lolo’s shoulder with his thumb, and Leonela takes this as her cue to join the little huddle and start gently running a hand up and down his other arm. “I don’t—what? I’m not gonna get mad at you for crying, little guy, there’s nothing bad at all about crying. I might not cry as much as, say, Mikey does, or you, or even ‘Nela, sure, but even I have to cry sometimes. And little kiddos especially just feel things so big and so much that they need to cry a whole lot—and there’s nothing wrong with that!”
He pauses for a moment after that like he’s lost in thought, before gently tapping at Lolo’s shoulder like he wants to ask him a question. “Hey, speaking of which, how little are you, exactly, bud? Do you know how old you are?”
“…yeah…‘m five,” Lolo replies quietly, setting his plushie down in his lap before holding up both hands and wiggling most of his fingers. “Maybe six. I ‘unno.”
“Oh, my goodness, you’re such a big boy!” Leonela gushes, and Lolo bashfully covers his face with his hands at all the attention he’s getting. “But still just the sweetest baby! A sweet baby who’s been crying a lot and really needs something to drink—lemme go get you something yummy-yummy, okay, honey?”
“Wait—w-wait, wait—” Lolo manages, anxiously reaching for Leonela as she turns to Raph for help standing up from the floor. “Wait, don’ leave me, please—don’ wanna be alone—!”
“Oh—hey, I’m not going far, Lolo,” she croons, lovingly wiping away the tears that continue to gather beneath Lolo’s eyes, and poor Lolo just leans into the touch with a miserably frightened little whine. “I’m just headed over to the fridge, then to the pantry, and then I’m coming right back, okay? I’m not leaving you, I promise. Raph and Mikey will both be right here with you the whole time I’m gone, too, you won’t be alone for even a moment.”
“M-Mi—Mimi—!” Lolo gasps, scooping his plushie up and out of his lap with one hand and clutching frantically at Mikey’s upper arm with the other like a lifeline. “Mimi, Mimi!”
Mimi…if Leonela’s heart hadn’t already melted from sheer sugar-sweet cuteness before, then it most certainly had now. She can’t even imagine how Mikey must be feeling.
“Right here, buddy, I’m here,” Mikey promises, barely any louder than a whisper. “Mimi’s here, Mimi’s not leaving. How’s about we have ‘Nela get you something to drink, hm?”
“‘eah,” he mumbles, starting to seem kind of tired, and Raph takes a feather-light hold of his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “G—g’ape ‘uice?”
“Ooh, grape juice, good choice!” Mikey praises. “Let’s go and get you some grape juice, then, and then we can all go and snuggle on the couch!”
“…m’kay…”
Mikey gently ruffles the top of Lolo’s head as Raph offers Leonela a hand to stand up, which she gratefully takes and smiles at him in thanks before heading into the kitchen.
Humming a fast-paced little tune she can’t quite remember the name of, she snags a bottle of grape juice out of the fridge and hip-checks the door shut maybe a little bit harder than she needs to, then steps over to the pantry and scours through the contents for a moment before she finds what she’s looking for: a little plastic souvenir cup and a detachable lid with the straw included (he’s not quite small enough for sippy cups, so this seems like the best solution). Making sure to be very careful, so she doesn’t break anything, she unscrews the cap to the bottle of juice and snaps the lid off of the cup before pouring the juice into the cup and snapping the lid back on, and finally throwing away the now-empty bottle.
When she walks back into the dining room, she’s pleasantly surprised to find that the others have all moved themselves over to the sofa, with Lolo still curled up all cozy in Mikey’s hold snuggling his ducky plushie and Raph sprawled out beside them, and all of them look about three seconds away from falling asleep.
She just smiles fondly, pulls out her phone, and takes a quick picture that she knows she’s always going to treasure, before carefully rounding the corner and setting the cup of grape juice on the end table, then making herself comfortable on the free end of the couch and turning the TV on a low volume to watch some Space Heroes.
Well. Their movie night may not have gone even remotely as they had planned, but that’s alright. She’s got a pretty good feeling that none of them minded a bit.