Sibling Saga (part 1/5)
@tmntbestsibscompetiton
Raph and Milo have my favorite sibling dynamic because they're both the eldest of the bunch and feel a responsibility to protect their brothers. Milo feels it strongest as the elder sister (and the oracle), but Raph still has that protective brother inclination he has in the canon. It's a bit reduced though since he doesn't have the pressure of being the oldest and biggest, and being the team leader. With Milo in the picture, Raph is just the biggest.
For Raph, Milo is like...his personal hero. She's strong and kind and always gives it her all to protect them, and Raph wants more than anything to protect Milo back in turn. This is the moment in their childhood that really solidified that for him.
For Milo, Raph is the brother she has the closest bond with. He's her little shadow and someone she trusts to protect their family should she be absent. She adores his bold spirit and how he's unafraid to express his interests and joys. She's also the only one in the family to show any interest in wrestling, so Milo and Raph frequently watch together. Unlike Raph, Milo doesn't have a favorite wrestler as she just enjoys watching the performances and cheering alongside her biggest little brother.
(also, I believe in field-medic!Raph supremacy. He takes the relatively minor/everyday injuries while Leo takes the more in-depth surgical knowledge. If you've got a bad scrape or burn or flesh wound, you go to Raph. If you've got broken bones and potential internal bleeding, you go to Leo)
[fic below cut]
“And stay gone!” Milo shouts, waving her bokken threateningly as the dog runs back down the alley from whence it came.
Her breath comes out in ragged huffs and her left arm stings painfully, but at least the threat is gone.
Exhaling heavily, Milo puts the bokken on her back again and turns back to her brothers. Raph is curled protectively around Mikey, Leo, and Donnie, his spiky shell facing outwards defensively but a noticeable tremble in his shoulders.
“Everyone okay?” She asks, crouching down to them.
Mikey pops out of his shell and nods. “I’m okay.”
Donnie mumbles something Milo can’t quite catch.
"Donnie and I are okay too,” Leo says.
Milo nods. “And you, Raph? You were really taking the brunt of that,” she says, eyeing the sluggishly oozing scratches and the scuffed sections of his shell and shoulders, and a couple of scrapes on his legs from when he hit the ground.
He turns to look her in the eye, about to answer her when his eyes abruptly focus on Milo’s arm. “You’re hurt!”
Glancing down, Milo finds that the aching wound on her arm is a lot more visually distressing than she thought. At some point, the dog had lunged for her face and Milo put her arm up in a rising block to defend. Instead of sinking its sharp teeth into her face, it sunk them into Milo’s forearm. She didn’t think much of it at the time. It hurt, sure, but she could still fight and the threat was still present. So she kept going.
She hadn’t realized it was so deep until now as she watches the blood dribble down her arm, off her fingertips and splatter on the pavement of the alley.
“Oh. It’s okay, Raph. It’s just a scratch,” she says, trying—and clearly failing if her brothers’ expressions are any indication—to hide her profusely bleeding arm.
Raph pivots fully to face her, releasing their other brothers, who are circling, clearly torn between wanting to help and wanting to vomit—mostly the latter in Donnie’s case—though Mikey is visibly on the verge of tears.
Milo hisses a little in pain as Raph pulls her arm out between them to inspect her injury. Her heart breaks a little at the sad whine that comes from her little brother as he gets a clearer look at the damage.
The distant noise of the human city suddenly becomes less distant and Milo is starkly aware of how exposed she and her brothers are.
“Come on. Let’s go!” She hisses, abruptly herding her brothers towards the manhole.
Milo doesn’t relax until all five of them are safely sequestered in the cool dampness of the sewers and out of sight. Leo wastes no time climbing up onto Milo’s back and Donnie onto Raph’s shell with Mikey—the latter a little grumpy about being beat by Leo to his favorite spot, that being Milo’s back.
With the looming danger gone, Milo lets herself relax. However, Raph immediately starts pulling Milo along—thankfully by her uninjured arm.
“Whoa! Raph!” Milo exclaims in surprise.
“We gotta bandage your arm before it gets infected,” Raph stats firmly.
From his perch on Raph’s shell, Donnie nods. “No repeats of The Incident, dear sister,” he declares.
Milo grimaces, thinking of the ugly, puckered scar on her left thigh and the miserable sickness that followed the injury that caused it. Her brothers hadn’t left her side for a month as she’d been bedridden with a high fever, even after she’d recovered thanks to the medicine Dad brought her from the surface.
Admittedly, Milo’s a little surprised they remembered given it was four years ago now, but she’s also quite touched. Still, Milo wishes they wouldn’t worry so much about her. Worrying is supposed to be her job.
Quietly, Milo relents to letting Raph tug her along as Donnie, Leo, and Mikey chat loudly amongst themselves. When they return home, the three youngest dismount from Raph and Milo.
“We’re gonna go tell Dad what happened,” Leo declares.
Donnie goes rigid. “Wait! Leo, maybe Dad doesn’t need to know all of it—!”
He’s gone—Donnie and Mikey on his heels, begging for Leo to minimize their own involvement in the events leading up to their close encounter—before Milo can object, and Raph pulls her towards their designated med bay.
It’s just a small side room, nowhere near as impressive as Baba’s was, but in the years that Milo has lived with Dad, she’s found that none of them need anything near the level that she had with Baba. They’ve got a fairly robust stockpile for dire emergencies like broken bones and cracked shells, but the bulk of their medical supplies are bandages and anti-bacterial salve because that’s most of what they need.
Raph immediately bee-lines for the metal box covered in stickers that sits in the lowest cabinet—well within easy reach for their smaller brothers just in case they need it for whatever reason—and sits on the ground in front of Milo. Silently, she does the same, watching as Raph picks out the salve tube and cotton swabs and gauze wraps from amongst the collection of bandaids and gets to work.
They sit in silence for a while as Raph applies disinfectant and looks over the bite mark on Milo’s forearm.
And then…
“You shouldn’t have done that, sis,” Raph mumbles.
Milo starts. “Huh? Of course I had to do it, Raph!” She protests. “That dog was really mean and it could have hurt you all really badly.”
Raph’s eyes shine wetly. “But you got hurt protecting us…”
“I’m your big sister, Raph,” Milo says quietly as Raph wraps her injury.
“It's my job to protect you. I don’t mind getting a scrape or two out of it.”
His beak scrunches irritably at that, tears spilling from his eyes. “But if you’re protecting us, who’s protecting you?” He asks.
Milo doesn’t have a good answer to that. She doesn’t see herself as someone who needs protecting. She’s supposed to be the one doing the protecting. If there comes a day where that isn’t the case, then that means that Milo isn’t doing her job right.
She’s about to say as much when Raph continues.
“You matter so much to us, Milo. I hate it when you risk yourself like this,” he admits. He wipes his tears on the back of his arm and when he meets Milo’s gaze, it’s with a look of absolute determination. “That’s why Raph’s gonna to protect you right back!”
Milo finds herself chuckling at that. “Okay, sure.”
“I’m serious!” Raph protests, face flushing with his indignation.
“You’ll see! When I’m bigger, I’ll be able to protect all of us, just like you!”
Despite herself, Milo can’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that blooms in her chest. She smiles fondly at her little brother.
When he wraps her arm, Milo turns the favor right back on him. Raph’s injuries are a lot more superficial than Milo’s but are more numerous. They’re giggling amongst themselves, picking through the selection of novelty bandaids when Dad comes stumbling in, Leo, Mikey, and Donnie shuffling sheepishly behind him.
“Green! Red! Are you both alright?” He exclaims.
Dad doesn’t even wait for them to answer before fretting over them both, looking visibly pained by the deep, still oozing bite wound on Milo’s left arm. Even now, little spots of red peak through the bandage, but not enough to warrant changing it right now. Later, definitely, but it’ll be fine until the bleeding stops completely.
“Oh, Green…”
“It’s alright, Dad,” Milo assures him. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Milo…that dog bit you pretty deep…,” Mikey whimpers.
“Yeah! What if you get rabies!” Leo shouts. “Are we gonna have to get you to a human hospital? Rabies is no joke! You’ll die from it!”
Donnie elbows Leo sharply in the side. “Nardo, that dog definitely didn’t have rabies,” he states calmly. “It was just aggressive and poorly trained. Still, our dear sister is at risk of infection. Who knows what that beast put in its mouth before biting her.” Donnie sticks out his tongue at the thought.
Dad exhales shakily and ruffles Milo’s hair, messing up the strands she has tucked behind her green bandana. She laughs, putting up a token protest against the show of affection.
“At least you all are alright,” Dad says.
“Of course we are!” Milo beams. “I’ll always make sure we come home safe.”
Raph shoulders in, pouting. “And I’ll make sure sis comes back too!”
Dad smiles softly, visibly relieved. “I am glad to hear it,” he says.
“Now. You’ve all had a trying day. How about some fruit?”
All five of them cheer, following their dad to the kitchen, and leaving behind the mess of bloodied cotton balls and torn up bandaid wrappers, the ordeal temporarily forgotten.
(But Raph never forgets the oath he made this day. Even if Milo admittedly didn’t take it very seriously, so sure that no matter what happens, her little brother will never have to shoulder her burden of safeguarding their family alone.)
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