A memory of Donnie, even as a tot, informing Splinter and the rest of them that extra weight and thus warmth was actually a good thing for turtles. They were cold-blooded after all and it was critical to have that extra warmth to survive in the cold sewers even during the summer. Due to his specific mutation, Leo had always had a larger appetite and metabolism than his brothers, prompting him to pack on more weight. He had better tolerate the various harsh winters they had experienced as tots, his brothers snuggling up against his soft belly for warmth, or being the one to make, granted slow, trips to the surface to grab food while they huddled in blankets. He had taken care of them because of his softness and they had admired that, even wanted to emulate it, but they just never could quite catch up to his impressive bulk. “You might end up catching up with him one of these days,” Donnie joked. Leo suddenly noticed a second chin beneath his purple-banded brother’s chin; had Donnie’s face always looked that soft? Had Raph always had that subtle droop over the edge of his elbow. Had Mikey always had those pairs of love handles along his sides to compliment the soft paunch growing out of his own middle? In one second, part of Leo felt like they hadn’t, but the next second it just seemed normal; a new normal. They had always been on the softer side growing up as a means of survival. Ample appetites appeased with junk food to promote calories and adipose with Leo being their pudgy leader; a figure to emulate and admire. His girth was his greatest attribute and it was almost his duty to maintain it, to maintain the hope and admiration his brothers had for him; to keep the family happy and cohesive. Leo opened one of the pizza boxes, grabbed a pair of bacon and red pepper slices, folded them on top of each other, and stuffed them into his maw, feeling a sense of greed and appetitive hunger wash over him. “Ha, that’s more like it,” Mikey said.