(A/N: I'd like to thank Lilninjawolf for betaing for me again! Much appreciated! =D
Also I know some of my watchers are awaiting an update on 'Filling in the Gaps'. Sorry! Uni is burying under assignments and by the time I feel like looking at it, I'm too sleepy. XD However, this didn't help. A very cute little plot bunny jumped me and made it so I could write nothing else (leisure writing of course). So enjoy and I will update soon. Promise!)
Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles or make any money from writing stories, like the one below, about them. However after writing this I am tempted to steal Donnie. :D
Splinter sighed gently as he glanced at their supplies. He would have to go out and get more food soon. Though thankfully, they seemed to have enough for tonight's supper. After that it wouldn't be long until his sons were ready for bed. Once they were fast asleep, he would be able to slip out for an hour or so and get more supplies.
In the other room of their make-shift home, he could hear his sons playing happily. Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo were playing a game of... What had they called it? Turtle in the middle? At the moment, by the sounds of his son's whining, it was Michelangelo who was actually in the middle right now. Though knowing Leonardo, he would allow his brother to get out of the middle soon. Then Leonardo and Raphael would then try their hardest to get the ball. Although, Splinter was hoping this time the game could end nicely without fighting. Only time would tell...
However, Splinter could not hear Donatello. But that was nothing out of the ordinary. Out of all of his sons, Donatello was the most quiet and often entertained himself. There was always a book to be read or something to be pulled apart and put back together. Though, Splinter would have to see if he was able to find his son another book. There was only so many times he could expect the child to be happy with re-reading the same books over and over again.
Splinter pulled out an old pot that he had found a year or so ago and placed under the sink. They had been graced with the benefit of clean, running water in recent years which had made things so much easier to help keep his sons healthy. Once it was full, he placed it upon the old oven he and Donatello had managed to get working. As he got the rice out of the cupboard, he heard the sound of soft, hesitant footsteps enter the kitchen area and, judging from the sounds in the other room, it was Donatello.
"Is everything alright, my son?" He asked gently as he poured the rice into the pot before turning to face the young turtle.
Donatello, his very curious son, had a dictionary in his hands and a rather hurt look on his face. It caused worry to grow in Splinter heart. Though he could see his son was unharmed physically, he could not smell any blood, so they were not the reasons for such a look. "Donatello...?" He asked softly, beckoning his son over. "What is the matter?"
Slowly, Donatello came over to him. "Master Splinter.." The small turtle hesitated, looking down at the floor. "Are you training us to kill...? If so, I don't want to be a ninja."
The question caused Splinter to frown. Kill? Where had his son gotten such an idea like that? Gently, Splinter placed a hand on Donatello's face, lifting it up slightly. "No, my son." He said firmly. "I'm training you all so you will become strong, skilled boys who will be able to look after themselves and protect one another. Not to kill. Why would you think of such a thing?"
Donatello looked back down at his book, the dictionary.
"Ah... May I see?" Splinter asked, placing a hand on the book.
His son nodded and Splinter took the small tattered book from his son. It was so rare to find books in good condition, but this one was probably their best. Splinter opened the book and found the word 'ninja'. Under the word was the meaning that had obvious put these ideas in his son's head.
The book read: "A member of a class of 14th-century Japanese mercenary agents who were trained in the martial arts and hired for covert operations such as assassination and sabotage."
Splinter sighed a little upon reading it. Carefully, he closed the book and placed it on the floor before pulling Donatello into his embrace. "Donatello, I promise you that I am not training you to do bad things like that." He whispered into his son's ear.
"Really...?" Came his son's small voice.
"Truly." He reassured his son.
"I still don't know if I want to be a ninja if they are meant to kill..." Donatello snuggled just that little bit closer to him in the hug.
Splinter thought about it. Could he allow his son to not be trained? To not be able to defend himself against the humans that walk above them, like his brothers would be trained to do? No. There was no question about it. But how to put that to a child? Especially one like Donatello who was bright enough to see to reason.
"What would you rather be, Donatello?" He asked, looking down at the small turtle.
Donatello thought about it for a moment. "A scientist. So I can help people." He replied.
Splinter couldn't help but smile at such a thing. "Hmm... That is an interesting choice." He noted aloud. "You would be able to cure disease, study to your heart's content, and make many discoveries that would help the world's understanding."
Donatello frowned up at him, his son knowing there was more to come, and there was. "But don't some scientists do bad things? Like make weapons? Cut animals and people up for their research? They do so much good, but they also can do bad things." Splinter reasoned with his son.
Donatello's face dropped, looking just as upset as when he had first entered the room. "But I wouldn't do that!" He insisted.
"I know that," Splinter assured his son. "I could never see you hurting something just for research. But there is killing involved there, or at least dealing with the dead."
"So I won't do that type of research," Donatello replied.
"Then perhaps," Splinter said. "You could be a ninja that didn't kill?"
Donatello opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it.
"Donatello," Splinter began. "Everything in life has a good side and a bad side. But it is up to you to choose what you do, which side you are on. Some ninjas do kill, but that doesn't mean every ninja does. Some are protectors of those they care about. This is why I train you to be a ninja, so you'll be able to protect yourself and those you care about."
His son looked back down at the floor, but this time not as upset as before. Donatello was thinking and Splinter would allow his son all the time in the world. He had hoped none of his sons would come to him about this until much later in life, but you can't always choose your moments. Then finally, Donatello looked back up at him.
"Does this mean I can't be a scientist?"
Splinter couldn't help but chuckle softly at this, picking his son up and holding him close. "You can be anything you want to be." He told his son. "I don't want you to stop training with us, but I will not stop you from following other paths as well as this one. There doesn't have to be one path. Perhaps you could be the first ninja scientist, hmm?"
Donatello looked much happier than before. "I like that idea." His son admitted.
Splinter glanced at his pot of rice. He had better start cooking soon or he would have four hungry turtles on his hands and that was not something he wanted. "Donatello, how about you go and be with your brothers while I finish cooking supper?" He asked the turtle.
"Okay, Master Splinter," Donatello said as Splinter gently put him down on the ground. "Thank you..."
Splinter let his son leave, picking up the dictionary from the floor. Hmm... Perhaps this was one book he should keep in his room until it was required? He did not want a repeat of this conversation with his other sons just yet and he doubted Donatello would bring it up again. One day they would all sit down and talk about this, but not today. They were still all so young after all...
Perhaps when he gave them their weapons, a responsibility talk of sorts. Splinter lit the oven and started to allow the rice to come to a boil. Then he went over and started to prepare the vegetables. He couldn't help but smile as he heard Donatello's laughter join his brothers as he joined in on their game.
A member of a class of 14th-century Japanese mercenary agents who were trained in the martial arts and hired for covert operations such as assassination and sabotage.
.com/ninja