Inspired by the 2003 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episode "The Real World: Part 2."

I do not own. Please enjoy anyway.

The truth was, during his "second" stay in the dungeon of his best friend, Splinter mostly worried for his son Raphael.

Michelangelo could be excitable and annoying, but those whose hearts were not particularly hardened usually liked him. He was cheerful. He could charm most people into treating him well if they were not too frightened by his appearance. He tended to fool those who were overly confident into believing him so foolish he was helpless. They did not often expect the strange cunning and amazing athleticism he could display that got him out of scrapes his brothers weren't there to immediately get him out of instead.

Leonardo was responsible, strategic, calm. He thought things through with speed and acted in the most appropriate manner afterward. Splinter's greatest fears for him were, 1. Because their enemy hated him especially, he would send Leonardo to a place few, if any, could escape from of great pain: 2. Leonardo would land in someone else's mess and feel the need to help them clean it up. Growing up with little brothers had done that to him, Splinter feared. The city's gang-wars had proven Leonardo took other people's problems to heart. Still, Splinter trusted him to find a way home if determination and discipline could do it.

Donatello's mind could help him get home far quicker though. He could help himself and others out of nearly any problem he came across eventually. Yes, his smart son might find a way to help them all home in time.

But Raphael … Even a calm person, if they caught him at a bad moment, could become his enemy within seconds. Just a bad scare, a few insults exchanged, a single blow-up, and he could make more trouble for himself than just being in a new place could alone. What way could he find home if he made a war for himself wherever he landed to fight in instead?

Even Raphael's current best friend, Casey Jones, and he had exchanged blows before becoming allies and companions. Now they laughed as they fought. A child, whom Raphael had met while searching for him, had started a few arguments and misunderstanding with his second-eldest before they'd helped each other. Raphael met few people who liked him right away.

So it was that Raphael, his child from the first time he saw him covered in green, glowing goo, the one he'd pried off his siblings more times than he could count, whom he took aside and took the shoulder of to talk to so often occupied his thoughts most. Splinter sighed softly. He knew worry was useless. He needed to stay calm for all four of his sons. And yet ...

Oh, Donatello, my smart son, where could you go that you could not think and invent your way out of? Leonardo, my responsible one, where could you not escape from, with your skill, your careful, calculated plans and calm demeanor? Michelangelo, my funny one, how many hearts can you meet who will not warm at your smile? How many cunning minds will not underestimate you and yours before it is too late? But Raphael? Who in time and space would you not pick a fight with immediately? Who will you trust? And if I never see you again, my passionate son, how will I know that you are alright?

A single tear ran down Splinter's muzzle at the thought of never seeing any of his sons, but particularly Raphael, again. He could imagine all the others in good situations, conquering bad ones and making them better, meeting new and true friends, finding each other … But Raphael … Oh Raphael … he could imagine insulting tyrants who then demanded his execution, angering warriors who then punched and swiped weapons at him, him smashing things in anger it later turned out he needed.

Thus, Splinter suffered alone for his angry son until their enemies brought him out, to torture him further, he assumed. But he happened to hear them arguing when he awoke. He took the opportunity. He grabbed the staff. He used it to call out to his sons, to bring them where they were needed most! Right there with him!

Yes, there, there was Michelangelo! He was surrounded by new friends, who looked much like his brothers and himself, but were wearing bright costumes! His youngest was smiling brightly, confidently in their midst, and … asking them to call him the "Turtle Titan" … Of course …

There was Donatello standing in a dark, broken place. He seemed barely touched in body, seemingly triumphant in reality, but defeated in spirit. A familiar, but battle-weary and older looking April was the only one near him who seemed still alive. And yet, she was thanking him for giving her and others a brighter future. She was smiling at him in gratitude before he disappeared … Of course …

There was Leonardo, already nearby. He was standing back to back with a different friend, his best, so much like him. They fought with and for each other, back to back, cutting down whatever foe came near them … neither giving in or letting up … Of course …

But the one that surprised him most was Raphael. He stood shaking hands with a new friend it seemed. That friend insulted him, however, even if it was by accident. Splinter knew this, because "he" was insulted for his son. The big, tall, confident-looking man was saying to him "Even if you do nothing else, you were once a planet racer. Not everyone can say that."

Nothing else? His son had battled the Shredder! He had fought against aliens, monsters, saved lives, and overcome on more than one occasion his own anger and pride to help others: not an easy thing for him to do. His son was and had done many things besides be a "planet-racer!"

He thought his son might punch the man in the face. But Raphael, almost like he and Leonardo sometimes did with him, only placed a hand on the man's shoulder and replied with a smile. "And 'you' remember, race with honor!"

"Race with honor …" That was his son's response to the man. His son repeated what he had tried to teach him now for so long ... in fear that he simply dismissed it each time as a criticism of himself. Now, his son repeated it to someone else with a smile showing no signs of losing his temper at all.

At that moment, if he'd had the time and space to do so, instead of being locked in a battle with enemies while attempting to reunite his family, and save his best friend's life, Splinter might have broken down and wept in pride for his son's actions and words. Raphael … had done so well … so well ...

What do you think?

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes