Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary: Everything should have been fine, and yet the sounds coming from where he had left his four, young sons warned Splinter that something was clearly amiss . . .
Warnings: Turtle Tots
Word Count: 851
Date Written: 21 November, 2010
Disclaimer: Splinter, Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are & TM their respective owners, none of whom are the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
The night was calm and cool. Splinter sat in the middle of his dojo, his sharp mind intently focused upon his meditation, until a great racket exploded through the lair. His ears pricked forward, and his eyes shot open. Grabbing his staff, which never lay far from his side, he jumped up and raced for his children.
His heart pounded within his furry chest, and every hair on his body bristled in dire concern for what he was about to find. He had thought all was safe. He had thought his enemies had no idea where he was or, far more importantly, of the existence of his sons. As he ran, images flew through his mind, each thought more horrid than the last, but when he reached his destination and entered the chamber, of all the things he had feared to find, none was anywhere close to the image that met his startled eyes.
He'd found an old, cracked bathtub not long ago, and shortly after discovering the old tub, he'd come to realize that it presented a fun plaything for his little boys while also serving to help get them at least a little cleaner from the defiling sewer. He'd set them in the bath, the water flowing from the rain pouring from the sky and into the slitted manhole before them, while he'd gone for his meditation.
Everything should have been fine. No one knew they were down here or had any right to suspect that he lived, let alone that he was caring for four of the most remarkable beings he had ever had the pleasurable opportunity to know. His sons should have been all right.
Now water poured throughout the chamber, and four baby turtles looked up at him with a myriad of expressions. Leonardo's expression clearly spoke the word that swiftly tumbled from his beak, "Uh oh. Sorry, Masser Splinser."
Donatello was busily running his hands over the side of the tub and wading through the water while Raphael stood with his tiny hands on the sides of his shell and looked around him with a prideful and pleased expression upon his cute, little face. Michelangelo jumped up and down in the enormous puddle, clapping his green hands together and shouting, "Cow-a-bun-ga! Cow-a-bun-ga!"
Splinter's careful gaze returned to Leonardo, who, at his tender age, was already beginning to show signs of being the most responsible of the four brothers. "What happened here, my sons?" Sensei questioned, the tip of his long tail twitching.
It was Raphael who answered him, however, as he looked up at his father with a huge grin splitting his face and answered, "KERSPLAT!"
Splinter raised a brow. "Kersplat?"
"Sorry, Masser Splinser," Leo repeated again, dragging a toe through the water that was already beginning to turn murky from the drudge of the sewer. "We's been playing."
Splinter's lips began to quiver into a wary smile. "There is nothing wrong with playing, my son."
Donatello had yet to look up, and Splinter took a step forward toward the purple-clad turtle. "Donatello?" he questioned.
"Water," Donnie spoke. Then he made signs with his hands indicating that something had hit the water, causing it to come up and over the sides of the tub, as he made swooshing sounds. Looking up at his father with big eyes, he asked, "Can we do it again pwease? I wanna know how we did it."
Splinter's smile grew until it filled his loving face. He reached out and gently pulled all four of his sons into his arms, though he had to use a little more pressure to maintain his grip upon Michelangelo, who continued wanting to jump up and down. "Perhaps another time, my children," he said, hugging the lot of them as his tail whisked around beneath his scraggly robe, "but for now, I think it wise that we adjourn to your chambers."
Mikey finally stopped squirming. "Story?" he asked.
"Yes, Michelangelo. I shall tell you all a bedtime story."
"Pizza?"
"No. I think you've had quite enough pizza for tonight," he said, carrying them from the chamber and grabbing his staff with his tail. "We shall have the story, and then we shall rest."
"Pizza?"
Splinter grinned and kissed the top of Mikey's little head. "You shall have your pizza tomorrow." He kissed Leo's and Donnie's heads as well and attempted to do the same for Raphael only to have him yank his head away. He smiled and let him go, understanding his need for independence, before the baby turtle could even begin to grasp the notion that he really wanted to be free.
Leo looked up at his father and blinked the two dark, glittering orbs that seemed to be the biggest thing about his little face. "You not mad?" he asked.
"Never," Splinter assured him and hugged them again. He sighed happily as he carried his sons into their resting chamber. His four boys were always into something, but he didn't know what he would do without them and hoped with all his heart and soul that that was one question whose answer he would never have cause to learn.
The End
