Hello! I would like to ask a kind of request one shot sorta thing about the 2012 TMNT meeting 2018 TMNT. It's about the 2012 TMNT reacting to 2018 Raph being nice to his brothers and being friendly to the 2012 turtles. I was just wondering this and thought it would be cool.
@assanmaharielsreblogs
“Shh... it’s okay Don...”
Leo couldn’t help but overhear and, despite his better judgement, slowed to a stop near Donatello’s laboratory bedroom to listen in.
“Want some soup? Pinkies? Water?”
Pinkies? Like... baby mice? Leo almost gagged at the thought of it, but peered around the corner to try and get a visual on what made the red leader sound so tender and concerned.
The snapper was sitting on the side of Donatello’s bed beside the softshell, who was under the covers with a heating pad on his head and a heat lamp shining down on him. Raphael was carefully petting his head while Donatello laid there looking absolutely miserable.
“No.” Donatello rasped, closing his eyes at the careful massage. “Just wanna sweat it out...”
“You haven’t eaten all day, Don. That’s not good for cold blooded mutants. You need to eat something.” Raphael’s voice was soft, yet somehow managed to carry a firm tone in its words.
“I don’t want to.” Donatello coughed, “And we’re not cold blooded we just... just have a... low body temperature.”
Raphael smacked his lips together in thought. “How about this: you drink some water for me, and in an hour or so I’ll bring you some pinkies and soy so you can get something in your tummy. Is that okay?”
Donatello blinked slowly and gave a weak smile, throwing his head back with a soft moan as he imagined the meal. “Yeah, that works.”
Raphael smiled and nodded, rubbing Donatello’s stomach in soothing circles. “I’ll go get your water then, and leave you alone, okay?”
He gave Donatello a gentle kiss on the head before standing up, making sure his brother was properly tucked before walking out of the room without so much as a glance to the spying Leo.
~~~
“OOPS!” Mikey tried to catch the jar as it fell, but the slick surface slipped out of his hand and shattered as it hit the ground. The pickles were sent flying, as were shards of the glass as it fractured with an earsplitting sound.
Mikey flinched. He looked up to Raphael as the snapper got up quickly from his chair and made toward him, and Mikey’s first reaction was to cover his head to guard himself from a beating. Strong hands did grab at him, but instead of a hit or a smack or shove, they grabbed Mikey around his shell and lifted him away from the spill, placing the younger turtle safely on the table. Mikey opened his blue eyes to a concerned Raphael looking him over.
“Hey, you okay little man? You cut yourself?”
Mikey stared. “Huh?”
Raphael leaned down to look at Mikey’s feet and investigate for any bleeding. “You need to be more careful, Mike. That glass coulda really hurt you...”
Mikey frowned and hung his head. “I didn’t mean to drop it...”
“I know.” Content that the smaller turtle wasn’t hurt, Raphael stood back up and gave him a stroke on the cheek. “Just gotta be more careful next time, huh?”
“Are you mad?” Mikey winced as he thought he already knew the answer.
“Mad? No, buddy, no. I’m just glad you’re not hurt. If I had a dollar for every time my Mikey broke something you think I’d be living in the sewer?” He gave a toothy grin, “it was an accident. Let me just go grab a broom and I’ll sweep it up, okay?”
Raphael patted his knees then stood up and turned to walk away.
“You’re not gonna... hit me?”
Raphael’s blood ran cold like ice. He turned back to look at Mikey, trying not to let the horror be seen on his face, but only concern for the turtle’s well-being. He walked back over and grunted as he heaved himself onto the table beside the other ninja.
“Does... someone usually hit ya?”
Mikey frowned and looked away, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing his shoulders for comfort. “I mess up a lot at home...”
“Just cause you mess up that doesn’t give anyone a reason to hit you.” Raphael said steadily, “um. Can I hug ya?”
Mikey gave a low grunt of approval and leaned into Raphael’s side, to which Raphael responded by wrapping a strong arm around the others carapace.
“I don’t mean to...” Mikey said softly, “I just talk too much sometimes. Or drop stuff.”
“That’s alright.” Raphael reassured, “Who is it that hits you? Your dad?”
“Nuh uh.” Mikey shook his head. “Um. Well. Sometimes. But only when he’s teaching me a lesson...”
Raphael couldn’t help but grimace at the wording. “Does he do that often?”
Mikey didn’t answer the question. He didn’t speak for a while, but eventually said, “Usually it’s my brothers...”
“They hit you?”
Mikey nodded. “Raph and Donnie. Leo doesn’t do it as often.”
“But he still does sometimes?”
“Yeah...”
“That’s no good.”
Mikey sniffled. “Do you and your brothers ever hit each other?”
Raphael sucked in a deep breath. “Well, it’s... bound to happen sometimes. During training. During... arguments. When Don or I... aren’t ourselves. But afterward... we always sit down and... acknowledge that it wasn’t... good. That we’re sorry and that’s not something family should do. And we’ll try to do things better.”
“Does your dad ever hit you?”
Raphael gave a low chuckle and shook his head. “No, never. Sometimes he... redirects us... but he’s never raised a hand to any of us.”
Mikey couldn’t help but laugh at the way Raphael said redirect. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. Very good.”
Mikey whimpered. “I wish I had your family..
