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Lou Jitsu wasn’t a huge holiday person. Well...he was a pretty big holiday PARTY person, especially in his previous life. Since ditching the Hamato clan for the cushy life of an action star, he’d never been all about that holiday spirit sentimentality mumbo jumbo about being all warm and fuzzy with your loved ones.
He lived alone and woke up with a hangover an average two or three days post-holiday most times. It just never applied to him. Near the end, Big Mama had always said to him, “Oh my dear smoochie-shmoo, I’m afraid I’ve not the time for dilly dally, Big Mama has quite the packed schedule at the moment, ‘tis the season chim chim charoo and work is all a busy bustle, but I do ever so much appreciate the invitation, my snuggly wuggly giggly boo.” And thus, right up until his second kidnapping, he’d been alone every year. Well...it had been about three years since he’d been alone.
Only now as he watched the frost coat the sewer walls and heard winter jingles emanate from the surface’s loudspeakers on repeat, did he realize that it was THAT time of year again, and it would be his first real holiday with any sort of family since moving into this new sewer home. If these turtles were his boys now, he owed them as much of a normal childhood as he could give them, and that meant Christmas.
Oh boy...
The boys were all babbling about around his legs while he cradled Orange in his arms. The little scamp has started tugging on his whiskers again, but with night soon to fall and the temperature dropping, the surface of his muzzle had since grown numb. Many sleepless nights were already turning his fur into various streaks of salt and pepper. Sighing, he reached down to rub Purple’s head, who had clambered onto one of his legs and would not let go as Blue and Red wrestled, quite literally butting heads with each other and giggling. Boys will be boys as they say…
Using some extra strength in his leg, he waddled with Purple and Orange, earning a few quiet happy squeaks from his second eldest, over to a corner. He let out a short high pitch whistle through his large front teeth, and the other two scrambled over to him and sat at his feet obediently. Most people probably wouldn’t care for the fact that he was halfway treating his sons like dogs by whistling and bribing with food, but kids and puppies were like that, dogs just stayed that way forever. He gently lowered Orange into Red’s lap. Red was a big boy, or he was most certainly going to be at least. Almost instantly, at a tender five years old, the oldest turtle grew quiet and held his baby brother close to him, like he would shatter like glass. Lou smiled softly, going down the line and rubbing each of their heads from oldest to youngest. The four children huddled close as their father pulled out a matchstick, striking it against the wall and lighting a small pyre in the middle of them all. The tall rat had stolen some Chinese takeout from a delivery boy and gently reheated the rice over the open flame.
Feeding these four as newborns in the hidden city hadn’t been easy, but at least they had access to some backstreet storefronts, the heat of the earth’s mantle and the smallest bit of financial security since Lou had managed to pocket a bit of his Nexus winnings and made a healthy enough sum of pocket change winning bets in underground cage brawls he would never like to admit he’d ever been a part of. Here they had freedom and safety from Draxum and Big Mama, but survival was much…much more brutal.
He watched his boys marvel as how their breath turned visible in the cold, especially Purple. Purple was always curious about anything and everything new. His bright eyes turned to him in question, even though he and his twin hadn’t quite fully grasped sentences.
Lou, humored by the wonder in his eyes, answered, “It’s getting cold out, coooollld, brrrr.”
“K-Koooaaad.” Purple mimicked back, giggling, but then a frown slowly dawned his face and he leaned further into his brothers, they all did, and they began to shiver. Orange and Blue, the two biggest complainers of the four, looked like they were going to start to cry, which in turn started to make Red tear up, and Purple sniffled at being the odd one out in the upcoming cry fest. Lou definitely didn’t want or need that.
“Shhh...don't cry. That’s right…you four have never felt the cold before. Here…” Lou cooed to them, taking off his eagle crest that went over his jump suit, draping it around them all like a phoenix’s wings. Sadly, the material was worn thin and full of holes and stitches from overuse. It didn’t do much for insulation, but the scent imbued in the cloth was enough to stop them all from beginning to sob. “Just a moment, some food will warm you all right up.” Lou finished heating up the plain rice, trying to shield it from a cold winter breeze that swept through the concrete cavern. He gently carved a spoonful of the grains. He smiled as he watched their eyes follow his hand like a litter of kittens stalking a feather toy. He raised the utensil up, “Num nums!”
They all knew the drill, and within two seconds, their beaks snapped open wide, making all matter of squeaking AHH AHH AHH!’s. Lou had never sympathized with a bird more than now, watching his hatchlings squirm around each other, begging with open mouths and empty gullets, me me me, pick me, feed me first! Growing boys meant lots of food, and absolutely no patience or concept of waiting your turn. He dealt with complaining cries as he begrudgingly made the decision to feed Blue the first spoonful. The rugrat swallowed it all in one go and again, much like a baby bird, had his mouth open again for seconds.
For the next few minutes, he methodically fed them spoonful by spoonful, one by one. “Gently, Red…” He cooed, knowing full well that his oldest chick had a tendency of biting metal spoons in half, and nearly always each time he’d have to scare the poor thing into spitting it out before he swallowed. It was always ALWAYS followed by cuddles and hugs of comforting apologies with his big softie of a snapper curled up in his arms. The poor kid was so sensitive, the sound of stepping on a twig could send him wailing. He was getting much better though, and he gently let the spoon glide back out of his mouth. “Good boy.”
Orange got the last spoonful but it was clear all the boys were still hungry. Sadly, they would just have to deal with it until he could go out and get more food the next morning. “No more, I’m sorry, kids.” They seemed to understand the well was dry and slowly stopped begging with big sad eyes. With more shivers, Blue sent the rest of them into a yawning chain.
“It’s time for beddy-bye.” He scooted over to their box for a bassinet. It was lined with a few old worn out dog beds he’d done his best to clean (still not helping on that ‘treating his kids like dogs’ front). Patting the rim, he watched the turtles tumble inside, their chubby cheeks squishing against each other. They were rapidly outgrowing their living space. They needed a new box. Soon he would have to see if he could find a way to repossess some of his old property from before the Nexus. These kids deserved actual beds.
He pulled his old sleeping bag out of his travel pack, and his ear flicked at the sound of Orange whimpering. Of course, how could he forget? Leaning over the cardboard rim, he gently pecked each green-scaled forehead, and finally…finally the boys settled down together, still shivering, but hopefully they would sleep soundly…hopefully. What were the odds of that? He wasn’t that lucky, despite what history had taught him. Oh well…may as well settle down and get as much sleep as he could manage in the freezing northeastern winter night.
Lou curled up next to the boys in their box bassinet, cracking an eye open right before he fully relaxed when he heard Red speak, “Da…Da…” It was quiet…soft, and not tear-filled as he might have expected from the snapper. He assumed he just needed a little extra help getting to sleep again, so he reached over into the box from his spot on the floor and dipped his hand into the pile of turtle shells and soft scales. A little three fingered hand found his. It was a little cold, so he rubbed the palm of Red’s hands between his own fingers, brushing up a little extra heat.
He was so tired that everything kinda faded after that, and he drifted off to snoozeville.
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Lou Jitsu woke again when sunlight streaked across his face, morning traffic horns blaring from above. He was so relieved, not once had the boys woken him last night, and finally he could fully enjoy the delightful memory dreams of his early filming days. He glanced inside the box, seeing only the shells of his four little ones. He hummed to himself. Sleep came so rarely to them all that he wanted to at least make up for the pitiful dinner they had last night with something really good. So, he didn’t try to wake them, instead lightly covering the box with his sleeping bag to block out some of the light. He hoped heavily that they would not wake before he returned from the surface, and if they did, he hoped they would stay put.
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Another lucky streak for him. Lou climbed down the ladder from the manhole entrance, taking note of the ice thawing from the bars. Slung over his shoulder was a packet of bacon, and a few eggs. From what little knowledge, he had managed to gather about all of his turtles, all of their species were obligate carnivores, or well, his two eldest were certainly, his two youngest were omnivores. It was a wonder that they hadn’t all eaten each other when the baron had crowded them all in that little box three years back. The protein would do them all some good. Surely, they would have awoken by the sounds of him coming down, so he might as well get started cooking, especially with his other score from his raid, an old frying pan.
He started another fire and began frying the food. His mouth watered as the scent of the fatty meat popped from every sizzle against the iron. He envied his children, but he was determined to settle for just a protein bar this morning. They needed the food far more than he did. Tail twitching, he plated up the finished full packet of bacon and clutch of eggs inside the to-go box they had just eaten from the previous night. Bringing two fingers to his mouth, he whistled…
…but nobody came…
He whistled again.
…still nothing…
He cocked one of his furry brows, briskly making his way over to the next tunnel to find the box again. His sleeping bag still laid on top. It had not moved a single inch. Pulling the cover back, he found his boys all still there, right where he had left them, also not having moved or shifted in the slightest.
He swallowed, reaching down and touching Blue, giving his little body a light shaking. “Wake up.” His little navy touched carapace was nearly stone cold. The rat mutant simply sat there for a bit, looking Blue over from top to bottom. Only then did the logical side of his brain kick back into gear, which then made his heart drop like a boulder.
“No…”
Paternal panic flared through his entire system, his mind flashing with the thought, something is wrong, something is very wrong! His hands feverishly ran over the shells of his three other sons. All four of them were halfway tucked in, eyes closed, still like death. No…he refused to believe it. They were HIS sons, they wouldn’t have made it this far only to let a little cold weather do them in.
But they were all still so small…his inner fear whispered to him…they’re only infants, so dependent, so fragile…
His body began to shake, the emotions now starting to pile as he stripped himself of the upper half of his suit. He hurriedly gathered his children, holding them all to his chest. Skin on skin contact was the best way to transmit body heat, even though he was mostly fur now. He grabbed a match with his tail and ran it along the ground as he speed-walked over to the center of the room, to the source of sunlight. He lit a pyre and sat in the sunbeam, although cold breezes still swept through their lair.
Lou pulled the four closer to him, fear and parental instincts now screaming in his head. He could see their little faces in the darkness of their shells, so cute…so small…so still. Too still. It was his turn to cry, thinking back to how Blue had reached out to him as only a one-year old all those years ago. He sniffled, hugging them closer, how could he have failed them like this…? He had promised to protect them…
He had failed these innocent creatures…what kind of hero was he that let them freeze…
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-a puff of air hit his cheek and he froze. He waited…waited…and there was another one, quiet and soft. Blue’s face was next to his. He gently shuffled the shells around carefully reached inside one of the arm holes, pulling out Blue’s lime green, yellow-striped arm. It moved fluidly, meaning his son was not nose deep in rigor mortis. He gently checked the other three and they were all showing the same symptoms, not dead in his arms, just asleep. Or so it seemed.
The relief rolled off Lou in waves. They didn’t look sick, but this didn’t seem normal either. His boys were so energetic and could run like little unstoppable forces if they wanted. They didn’t sleep this soundly. He didn’t understand why they wouldn’t wake up, but if there was one thing his innate biological instincts told him, was that his children weren’t supposed to be this cold. He used his kinked tail to grab a strap from his sleeping bag, pulling it towards them all. He got inside, curling around his sons and insulating them against his chest. The coldness that spread to him from their little bodies sent chills down his spine, but he trucked on, managing to drift to a light and restless sleep.
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His eyes snapped back open, the sun beating directly down onto him. It must’ve been noon. He felt a light squirming against his chest, followed by the sound of crying, it was Orange. He dove further into the sleeping bag, and almost immediately, the littlest turtle grappled onto his muzzle, crying his little heart out. Lou felt hot streaks fall down his face as the other three joined him in sobbing.
What a beautiful sound…
He nuzzled into their plastrons as they all cuddled together. Lou Jitsu did not sleep for the next three days, working to the bone to fully insulate the Lair from the elements.
It was their permanent home.
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In the following years to come, Splinter would do a lot of intensive book research on turtle care. He smacked his face one day after closing a book, causing the four eight to ten-year-olds to look at him in confusion. God, he was an absolute idiot…
“What’s up, Pa?” Mikey tilted his head.
“You four are to never enter brumation again, do you understand?” The sensei waved his tail at them.
“What’s this about a broom?” Leo piped up, “Does this mean we never have to clean again?!” Red and Orange got wide stupid grins on their face at that as if they were about to throw a party.
“Actually, brumation is hibernation for reptiles, which is when some animals nap all winter when there’s no food to eat.” Donnie puffed out his chest, looking for validation on his superior intellect. He got none, just groans and blown raspberries from his twin. However, Splinter’s tone seemed pretty serious, and they all cut the act, thinking they might be in trouble. “You said again, but none of us have every hibernated before, Daddy…” The turtle in the purple sweater curled down a bit, his brothers taking cover behind him.
“I…” The rat looked down at his feet, drawing out a long sigh. “Just don’t, not ever. Brumation can be very dangerous, so be sure to always make sure you stay warm when it gets cold, do you understand?”
“Oh…kay…?” Leo muttered, understandably confused as the rest of his brothers. Under the intense gaze of their father, they obediently straightened up.
“Yes, sensei.” they all said at once.
“Good boys…” He patted each of their heads, “Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Oh, Oh! Can I help this time?!” Mikey squeaked, tailing his father’s tail. Raph, Leo, and Donnie watched them go, utterly perplexed.
Dad was so weird…