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Bedtime in the Hamato household was an…ordeal to say the very least. Attempting to wrestle four hyperactive toddlers into their beds was itself a struggle. But keeping them there? All his training, all the years in the Battle Nexus, nothing could have prepared Splinter for that challenge. But, over the years he'd developed strategies, routines, and a fair amount of tricks to assist him. On good nights, the boys would get the rest they needed. And if he was very, very lucky, he might even get a few hours of sleep himself.
Tonight was not one of those nights.
The chaos, as always, had started not too long after dinner. Though they offered protection and; maybe best of all, were free, the sewers did little in helping the boys stay clean. So, to keep them from smelling so bad that even their brothers started to notice, daily baths were a must.
Unfortunately, baths took much longer than any of them wanted them to. It was nice that after fighting for hours to get Purple to eat his dinner, he was more than happy to get into the tub. Red and Blue were too, though it was clear that neither of them liked water as much as Purple did. Splinter assumed it had something to do with their turtle species. He’d done some research in the early days to try and figure out what kind of turtles they’d all been before they were mutated. Purple, Blue, and Red were all semi to fully aquatic. Orange was a different story.
No matter how fresh and warm the water was, or how many bubbles and toys Splinter would fill the tub with, Orange would kick and scream like he was being murdered the moment water touched him. On several occasions Splinter had attempted to explain to his youngest that the baths wouldn’t take half as long if he’d just stop struggling, but little Orange didn’t seem to care one bit.
This particular night had been one of the worst ever. After a particularly long and tiring day, Splinter had hoped that Orange would be too tired to put up much of a fight. Oh how wrong he’d been. After being splashed with so much water it looked like he’d been the one taking the bath, Orange had been wrapped up in a towel and sat in front of the space heater that Purple had built months ago.
“Okay, boys,” he said, patting his face dry with a towel. “Bedtime.”
Blue was first. There was absolutely, positively no way that he’d be the first to fall asleep, but over the years Splinter had learned that it was better to start the cycle of him waking up and complaining that he couldn’t sleep as soon as possible, and hopefully get it over with at the beginning of the night.
Luckily, Blue allowed his father to tuck him into his racecar bed without much of a fuss, and after bidding his family goodnight (all individually, as he always insisted on doing), he allowed his dad to shut off the lights and continue into the next room.
Next was Orange. In addition to getting Blue’s complaints out of the way early on, sending him to bed also helped get Orange to sleep. Orange absolutely hated the idea that he was being left out of anything. So going to sleep first had always infuriated him. But if there was one thing that would override his insistence on being included, it was copying his brother. To Orange, anything Blue did was the coolest thing ever, even going to sleep early. But, of course, that trick didn’t seem to work tonight.
“I’m not sleepy,” Orange insisted. It was a lie. He hadn’t been able to stop yawning and rubbing his eyes since dinner. And with how fussy he’d gotten, it was clear that Orange was completely drained from the day.
“Just lay down for a bit,” Splinter insisted, tucking another stuffed animal into bed beside him in hopes that it would bribe him into staying put.
“I’m not sleepy,” Orange repeated. “I want to stay up and play with Raph and Donnie.”
“They’re going to sleep right after this,” Splinter explained with as soft of a tone as he could manage. No matter how many times he went over this, Orange always seemed to think that after he was tucked in, the rest of his family would scamper off to go play some fun game
Splinter sighed. “What would make you tired, Orange?”
He considered this for a moment, his tiny eyebrows scrunching together. “A cookie?”
“Sugar would make you tired?”
“So sleepy,” Orange said, grinning and nodding his head.
Splinter sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”
A cookie, a glass of milk, and a second tuck-in for Blue later, Orange finally allowed himself to be put to bed.
Of all of his sons, Purple was by far the easiest. He didn’t even need to be tucked in. Splinter would just guide him to his room and knew that he’d climb into bed and turn off the lights all by himself. Which was good. Because around this time was Blue’s second appearance.
“Still can’t sleep,” he informed his dad helpfully.
“Have you tried?”
Blue stuck out his tongue.
“Try again.”
As easy as Red was to put up with during the day, night time was a different story. It was clear that his oldest had some problems with worry. Whether it was from being the oldest, or just something that was a part of him, Red seemed to fear that everything could hurt his brothers. And often, if it didn’t spill over during the day first, he would wait until bedtime to voice all of those fears to his father.
“Mikey is really little,” he said quietly.
“Well, he is three,” Splinter responded, pulling the Ghost Bear comforter up to his son’s chin.
“If there was quicksand, he’d fall into it really fast,” he said, voice breaking. His eyes began to water.
“There isn’t any quicksand in the sewers,” Splinter assured him.
“And he wiggles around so much too,” Red said. “It would just take a second and he’d be gone!”
“We’d pull him right back out.”
“But what if we were stuck too,” Red said.
Splinter sighed. This was shaping up to be a long night.
Finally, after assuming Red that each of his brothers would be safe if the Lair were to suddenly flood with quicksand, water, or (for some reason) venomous snakes, he managed to pull himself away and shut the door behind him.
It was still way too early to go to sleep himself, and despite how tired he was, Splinter refused to return to his room just yet. Instead, he returned to the TV room and turned on a telenovela.
A few minutes later, during a particularly dramatic scene, Splinter heard a tiny gasp from beside him. Turning down to look, he saw Blue’s tiny face illuminated by the TV.
“What are you doing up?” Splinter asked.
“I. Couldn’t. Sleep.” he said, clearly just as tired of answering the question as Splinter was of asking it. His eyes flicked back to the TV screen as the main character delivered a slap across her mother-in-law’s face. “Can I watch?” he asked.
Defeated, Splinter pulled him up onto his lap. “You can listen, while you try to sleep,” he said. “Now close your eyes.”
An episode and a half later, Blue had finally drifted off. Splinter’s hand absent-mindedly rubbed the back of his son’s shell as he looked down at his sleeping form.
It was true that bedtime was…a struggle. But, if they went to sleep as easily as he sometimes wished they would, they wouldn't get to spend nearly as much time together. And they wouldn’t have moments like this. Moments with just one of his sons. Moments where he thought maybe he was doing an okay job being a dad.
Things would get stressful again tomorrow, they always did. But chaos was a part of his family. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.