In all, this'll be a short project, but my muse deemed it necessary. April and Casey have gone through some shit, too, and, well, thus the fic. Hope you read Precinct because otherwise, you'll get a shock right off the bat. XD

CHAPTER 01: WANT

An earthy scent wafted up from the Kokee Tea, and it filled April O'Neil's nostrils as she handed over one of two mugs to Nia.

"Thanks, April-neechan," the artist said. Her brown and teal eyes squinted with joy then rounded when she tested the tea's temperature. "Ei!"

"Give it a moment," April added. "It's fresh off the stove."

"I just want it to settle my stomach."

"Understandable." The redhead weaved through where Shadow showed Nyx and Selene how to 'play' in the apartment's living room and double-checked that the blackout curtains remained hung to prevent even thermal detection from knowing the hybrids visited. They were, so she pushed back her shoulder-length hair as she nestled onto the couch cushion beside Nia, watching the brunette lower her mug onto her bloated belly. "You're as big as you were with the twins."

Nia grimaced. "Don't remind me. I wish Raph and Mel-neechan would let me keep working at Irma's. At least that gave me something else to focus on."

"Well, after a certain point it gets difficult to explain why you never share baby pictures."

"I hate that I have to hide them."

"I know." Sipping the Kokee, April resolved it needed more time to cool and carefully swallowed what was in her mouth. "How'd you explain your last pregnancy again? I mean, you were showing by the time you asked for leave."

"I never told Irma-san they were twins. So I just said it was a miscarriage. Hate lying, but..."

"Is that how you're going to explain this one too?"

"Oh, I left be—before I started showing. Remember? Told Irma-san I—I needed more space. I wasn't ready to come back to work like I thought."

"Which isn't a total lie."

"No, but," Nia's mismatched eyes found her dark-green babies, "it makes it seem like I'm ashamed."

"The people who matter know you're not."

The women shared a smile, broken only by clanking plastic. They turned to the playmat as Nyx scrambled over her share of building bricks that Shadow reached for.

"No!" Nyx screamed. "Mine!"

April fought humor; the fact that the hybrid's first words didn't involve her parents reminded her so much of Raphael. "Shadow," she managed while clearing her throat.

Shadow looked up, and in that instant, her stare stopped time. April never expected she'd help raise someone else's child, but here she was, disciplining the toddler of her ex's late wife. If anything, Shadow should be considered an enemy; the blonde represented what April desired most, what should've been hers, not Gabriella's. She shouldn't bother with what the toddler ate or wore or said, yet she did. And it left her speechless under blue eyes that resembled Casey, blood-related or not.

"Shad," Nia spoke in April's place, "you don't like people telling you what to build, do you?"

Shadow shook her head, short hairs clinging to her ears.

"Then Nyx can build what she wants, right?" The artist maintained a smile, regardless of Shadow's pout. The pale babe babbled complaints she didn't want the grown-ups to understand then squatted so fast, her dress became a tent around her as she gathered unclaimed blocks. "April-neechan, are you okay?"

The redhead blinked back into reality. "Huh?"

"You went flush."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You can tell me." Despite Nia's tender tone, the realization that the half-alien meant her words on the most intimate level made April hesitate. She didn't want to burden anyone with complaints; however, Nia made it clear she already sensed them and likely foresaw everything the redhead would say next.

'She sure has come a long way in training her Sight. Her kids won't get away with any secrets.'

"I want what you have," April said lowly. Any other person would've replied with 'You do in a way.' Nia understood the underlying meaning, though, and kept quiet so the redhead could continue on her own terms, "I want that bond that ties a parent and child together. I want that feeling of being complete, needed, cherished. I want..."

"You're own child," Nia whispered.

"It's more than that. Ever since Casey and Shad showed up, I've been on this verge of breaking. When I wake in the morning, it makes me wish they were a dream because that'd be easier to accept. But then I hear them while still in bed, and it cements everything. Day after day. It's become a haze."

"You wish he had gone to his mother's instead?"

"We've talked about that. All of us. Her neighborhood isn't the safest."

"But hasn't this place been destroyed, like, three times?"

"Once. Maybe twice. Doesn't matter. By then, Shad was already set in a routine. Here. You know how important stability is for a kid."

"This is about more than her."

"Yeah, we're all a mess."

"If it's too much stress, if you don't want to raise Shad—"

April glared at the artist, hands tight around her cooled mug. "That's what pisses me off. I don't want to feel responsible for her! I don't bring her here. I didn't make a promise to her mother. I didn't—" The redhead stopped short when she noticed the many eyes on her. She trembled against the couch's armrest, and Shadow, kneeled on the play mat, held her building blocks tightly. "I—I'm sorry, guys."

The toddler tiled her head. "Okay?" she asked.

April smiled; somehow, the little blonde's helium voice always eased her. "Go back to playing. I—I'll get more snacks."

Shadow jumped up and dropped her blocks. "I wanna help!"

"No, Shad."

"But—"

"No!"

The redhead inhaled, and Nia took pity, saying, "Can you be a big girl and watch the twins while we're in the kitchen, Baby?"

"Not baby!" Shadow cried.

As if to prove her point, she turned her back with her hands on her hips, looking down at the girls ten months her junior. Nia chuckled then waved for April to help pull her off the couch. She waddled alongside the redhead into the kitchen, where they could still keep an eye on the trio, and their conversation was better hampered by baby time TV.

"April," Nia started.

"Can you grab the peanut butter from the pantry?"

The artist did as asked after placing their mugs in the sink, but with a pointed look that let her sister know no matter how many child-size sandwiches she busied herself with, the issue wouldn't be dropped. April accepted her fate and fought through the tightness in her chest to keep a straight face as she gathered the ingredients on a cutting board.

"It feels better to let it all out," Nia added. "Trust me."

A sudden laugh bubbled in April's throat. "I'm such a mess," she said. "A pathetic mess. I couldn't even go through a single date while Casey was gone without thinking of him. How stupid is that?"

"I don't think it's stupid."

"It is. I'm here, trying to move on with life, and he waltzes across the States to marry to a woman he knows for less than a year. Married, Nia. Then when she dies, he shows up at my door with her kid like that's okay."

"Ape—"

The redhead's knife tore through the bread slice she layered with peanut butter yet she continued to finish the sandwich with a scowl. "I want to hate him. So badly. What I asked for, he gave to another woman. I should kick them both on the street, far from me, but"—April sniffled—"I can't. It's stupid and frustrating, but I still want him. I still love him. I shouldn't, but I do. And Shad."

"You've been raising Shadow for the last seven months. All she knows is you and Casey. You guys are her parents. April." Nia's hands covered April's, gathering them in a firm hold. She glanced up, and when her teeth began to chatter, the redhead realized they both cried. "When she calls you 'Mama,' she means it. Take it from someone who was adopted herself."

"I shouldn't want either of them."

"It's okay that you do." Nia smiled through empathetic tears then wrapped April in a side-hug that made her feel weak against the artist's large belly. "I'll be here," she added in a whisper. "For however long it takes you to figure things out and whenever you need to vent."

For that April was grateful.