Okay, so the plot bunnies have attacked. No, seriously, I can't concentrate on anything else. I bring my laptop to class and I'm typing stories in class. It's that bad. So, I decided to post the next chapter of this while, 1) I have time and 2) before I go off to work on my other story and my bunnies swarm me again.
So, look for a bunch of new stories coming your way! But in the meantime, here's the next chapter!
Disclaimer: Although the TMNT do not belong to me, I have named my new fish after them...
TMNTTMNTTMNTTMNT
I smiled at the memory, remembering how small my sons were. I unfolded my legs from under me, and stood with the help of my staff. I made my way to the kitchen, where I put on a pot of water, heating it over the stove for my tea.
My sons had grown so fast. It had been only a little while after that that I had started training them in the ways of the ninja. By that time, they had gotten more rambunkcious, and it had taken all of my willpower not to do anything rash. Or to do something I might have regretted later…
"It's my turn!"
"No way, Raphie! You had it yesterday!"
"Stop yelling, Mikey! Master Splinter is napping!"
"Don't boss them around, Leo!"
"Yeah! Thanks, Donny!"
"Mikey, give me that remote!"
"Ahhh!"
"Raphie, get off of him!"
"Leo! Help me!"
"Donny! Get Raphie!"
"Ack!"
My eyebrow twitched. This bantering had been going on all week, and today was no different. I had been trying to meditate, but it seemed impossible with four six year old turtles running around.
There was a sudden crash, complete silence, and then someone crying. There were other hushed whispers. Sighing, I stood and opened the door that lead to my room. As soon as the wood slid open, everything stopped. Our home had never been so quiet.
Turning, I saw the cause of all the ruckus. On the floor by the door that lead outside, now shattered into a million pieces, lay a vase. Michelangelo, the one that wore the orange bandana, was lying on the floor, surrounded by the broken shards. He had tears in his eyes and his lower lip was trembling. His brothers were surrounding him, Raphael looking guilty. Donatello was looking at the broken vase, and Leonardo was avoiding my gaze.
"Who would like to tell me what has happened?" I asked sternly, looking at all of them.
The four of them looked at each other, silently arguing. It was finally Michelangelo, who's tears began to stream down his face from his blue eyes, who looked up at me.
"Raphie was trying to take the remote from me and then Donny pushed me, Master Splinter!" he cried.
"I did not push you!" Donatello exclaimed. I fell on you because Leo pushed me!"
"I didn't push you!" Leonardo argued.
This, of course, caused more chaos as the three smaller turtles argued among themselves. I turned my eyes to Raphael, who gazed calmly back at me.
"It was my fault, Master Splinter," he said quietly. His brothers abruptly stopped and stared at him, eyes wide. Leonardo's mouth hung slightly open.
"Go on," I encouraged.
Raphael glanced a his brothers quickly before turning his eyes on me again. He licked his lips. "I wanted to watch T.V. but it was Mikey's turn, and tried to take the remote from him. He ran away, and Donny and Leo were only trying to stop me from hurting him."
I looked at the other turtles. "Is this true?" I asked.
Michelangelo was quick to agree, followed shortly by Donatello. Leonardo stared at Raphael for a little bit, shocked. And then simply nodded his head.
"Raphael," I said. "You will be grounded from watching television for the rest of the week."
The turtle in red's face fell.
"Because the rest of you were involved, and none of you came forward when the time came, the three of you are to do the dishes after dinner for the rest of the week," I added.
Three faces turned to me, disbelief on their faces.
"But, Master Splinter!" Three little voices chorused.
I held up my hand and they immediately stopped. "My decision is final." I turned on tail and went to the kitchen to get a broom and a dustpan. When I returned, Raphael and Leonardo were off to the side, whispering quietly to one another. Donatello was looking over the broken vase, a thoughtful look on his face. Michelangelo was sitting where I had left him.
I handed the broom to Raphael and the dustpan to Leonardo. "You two will clean this up," I said.
"Master Splinter," Donatello spoke up, looking at me with eager eyes. "I think I can put the vase back together…"
I looked into his eyes and saw determination and confidence. I sighed. "Very well." I then turned to the smallest of the turtles. "Michelangelo, come with me. We shall clean up your cuts."
The turtle sniffed and wiped his eyes with his arm, nodding. He stood and carefully made his way over to me. I took his hand and led him to my room, where I sat him upon the mat and went over to the nearby cupboard. I came back to the turtle, who was still sniffling, and kneeled down.
"Show me where you are hurt, child," I said softly.
The young turtle flexed his leg, showing me his knee. It was bleeding slightly, but upon further inspection, I found no shards of glass. I cleaned the wound and then bandaged it up.
"Master Splinter?"
I looked into the eyes of the turtle tot, who still had tears in his eyes. "Yes?"
"… Are you mad that we broke your vase?"
My eyes widened slightly. "Why would you think that?"
Michelangelo looked away. "Because you seem mad…"
I was quiet, sensing there was more he wanted to say.
"And on T.V., when kids break things, the grown ups yell at them…"
"I assure you that I am not mad," I told him. I stood. "Now go help your brothers clean up the vase."
I turned my back, but when I heard no movement, I looked back. The turtle was still sitting there.
"Master Splinter?"
"What, child?"
"You know how Leo and Donny and Raphie and me are brothers?" he asked. I nodded. "Does that… does that make you our dad?"
My whiskers bristled at the question he was asking. I had never though of it before. It surely seemed like a valid assumption, but I wouldn't exactly call myself a father. But still, I had raised the four turtles this far… maybe…
I shook my head slightly, clearing my head, and looked at Michelangelo, who was still sitting there, watching me intently, waiting for a response.
"I… guess that you would be correct," I said thoughtfully.
Michelangelo grinned, the sadness disappearing from his eyes immediately. He hurridly got up, wincing slightly at his injured knee, and ran towards me, hugging me around my waist. He grinned up at me.
"I love you, dad," he said.
He looked down at him, seeing the happiness in his face. I couldn't help but smile as well.
"I love you too, my son."
TMNTTMNTTMNTTMNT
I like it when the turtles are little. It makes me chuckle to think of what trouble they used to get into... :)
Review? Please? It'll help me work on my 10 page term paper!!!!
