A/N: What happened to Splinter wasn't very clear, was it? Here's a chapter to fix that^^

He had love Tang Shen as though she were the sun as it shined on the world and he were the moon, so in love that he glowed in her light. Flowers smelled sweeter when he smelled them with her, since she always stuck her nose in them, laughing as though she were seeing them for the first time. When he glared at the ground as he walked home to her, weary from another argument with his brother, she would stand on their porch and point up at the stars, exclaiming, 'Look, dear, even the shyest have come out to meet you this night' and how could he not smile? When he lost her, when she was taken from him, it was all he could do not to join her. But he knew that if they met too soon in the afterlife, she would scold him.

No.

He would not dishonor her memory by taking his own life, yet how could he be expected to live without her? In an effort to fill some of the emptiness she had left behind, he resolved to buy a pet. Just one. And he would care for it, feed it, and, in turn, it would be something waiting for him to return, something he needed to live for because it depended on him for its survival.

However, when he looked at the first turtle, a stern looking terrapin that appeared slightly calmer than his brothers, he couldn't help but wonder if it would get lonely if separated him from the other turtles.

Perhaps, he should get two. The second turtle, thicker and more aggressive, could be the first turtle's playmates. Yes, two turtles. That was a good number.

But what about the turtle with the gap in his teeth? Who would take him in? What if others found the small imperfection off-putting and he never found a home?

Surely, three turtles was a manageable number. He could take of three. But he wasn't going to purchase anymore. Three turtles was more than enough and nothing was going to change his mind.

Decision made, Hamato Yoshi stood to tell the man standing behind the register that he would to buy three turtles when, out of the corner of his eye, he observed a piece of lettuce laying in the middle of the tank twitch. Fascinated, he stilled, watching in wonder as a small head poked out from under the leaf and yawned. The baby turtle was smaller than his brothers, so small that Yoshi had nearly missed him. How could something so small possibly survive alone? The baby turtle swung its head to face him, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity, and smiled at him. Until that moment, Yoshi hadn't even known turtles could smile.

Four turtles.

He was leaving with four turtles.

Michelangelo.

That was what he'd named his youngest son.

Although his beloved's eyes had been brown, he saw her in his youngest- in the way he laughed at the slightest provocation, the way he loved to tease, the way he saw the best in others, just as Tang Shen had always seen the best in him. He saw her wit in Donatello, her fiery passion in Raphael, and though he saw much of himself in his oldest, he felt her tranquility in him, a vibrancy that thrived even in stillness.

He'd thought losing his sons would be like having her ripped from his life all over again, but he'd been wrong.

It was so much worse than that.

Before his eyes, his youngest had been wounded by the very same monster who'd taken Tang Shen from him, and every step the tiger carrying him took only increased the distance between him and his dying son.

It was an agony he'd never known, could never have imagined.

And yet his body betrayed him. It refused to move. Though he begged it to, his thoughts screaming as he willed his fingers to perform even the slightest twitch, pleaded with his legs to move, move, move.

Kick, scratch, claw, tear.

Kill.

Then he was thrown outside, into a dumpster. Over and over, he heard his sons words, 'We're his pets. That's all we've ever been.' Had his son died believing he did not love him?

If so, there was nothing he could ever do to atone.

And if the Shredder had spoken the truth, if all his sons where truly gone, how could he continue living? Would he do as the Shredder wished and live in despair, waiting for the day Oroku Saki felt the urge to plunge a blade through his heart and end his misery? Or would he disappoint Tang Shen and end it himself?

Never.

If he were going to die, he would not be going alone. On the love he had for his sons, he swore that before the day was done, the Shredder would know the wrath of a man who had nothing to lose.

And they would finish things as they had begun.

In flames.

It was with this festering in his mind that Splinter passed the hours as he waited for his body to move again. In one hour, he could move his head, hands, and most of his legs. In two, he had enough motion to crawl out of the dumpster, legs wobbling, still weak from the paralytic, and he collapsed on the concrete, the rain pouring on top of him and soaking his fur as he lifted himself out of the muddy puddle he'd fallen into.

Deep in his heart, he did not believe his son to be dead. Michelangelo was clever, his tongue a weapon, and though he'd looked apologetic as he'd watched the tiger drag him away, he hadn't looked hopeless. Nor had he looked resigned to death.

However, Splinter could not imagine that his son had planned to impaled upon the Shredder's blades and the honest surprise and pain he'd seen in his son's eyes filled him with a rage that burned whatever was left of the paralytic out of his body. As he stalked over to the Foot Clan's entrance, he gave himself over to the rage entirely. What use was there for compassion or mercy if they couldn't save his sons? If the Shredder wanted to strip him of everything except despair and hate, then he'd show his former brother just how hot his hate could burn.

A snarl on his lips, Splinter rose a clawed hand, ready to pound on the Foot's metal doors until someone was foolish enough to let him in, his mind already providing him with images of the building's layout and the positions of the Foot he'd observed during his capture and release. His first priority would be Michelangelo. He had to confirm whether or not he was still breathing, because the answer to that question would determine everything.

Behind him, scales slid across the pavement. "Faaatheeer?"

Splinter froze, the red haze in his mind fading as he remembered his daughter, Tang Shen's child, the child they'd had together. Stubborn. Willful. Proud. Good.

"Karai?" As he turned to face her, he had to fight against the urge to avert his eyes. Did she know he'd been intending to face the Shredder? Did she know how close he'd come to leaving her alone? How could he, in his rage, have forgotten his dearest daughter?

He saw a deep sadness in the slitted eyes of his transformed Miwa, but there was an understanding there he hadn't dared to hope for. Then, to his astonishment, her lips quirked; there was a small, half-smile on her face as she said, "Father, Mikey is alive. He's sssafe."

"And his brothers?" Master Splinter asked, barely daring to believe. In answer, his daughter held out three vials of mutagen.

"They need you, Father." He glanced down at his foot, noticing for the first time that it'd swelled to about twice its size and seemed to have gained its own heart in the time he hadn't been paying attention to it. Such an injury would not keep him from reuniting with his sons, but…

He looked at Karai hopefully.

She noticed his injury, hesitated, then held out a scaled arm for him to hold onto, though not before warning him that she might attempt to eat him on their way back to the lair.

In response, Splinter tilted his head, suppressing a smile. "I believe you will find me difficult to swallow, my daughter."