Disclaimer – Well, I added a word to the title, because it fit better with the theme. I'm wondering how many of you assume whose temper almost ate New York City, though? I think when you get to the bottom of this chapter you will have an idea or two.

In either event….No, I do not nor will I ever own the turtles – and it's no mystery who does. Enough said.

The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan

by Reinbeauchaser

Chapter Two – Admissions

As Leonardo and Donatello rushed from their father's room, they found Raphael standing over Splinter. The rat seemed to be righting himself well enough, with the littered remains of what had been a radio scattered around him on the floor. Raphael seemed frozen in his spot, though, his hands still clenched, but his face showing a mixture of rage and surprise.

It was perfectly obvious to one of his two brothers what had happened, though.

"RAPHAEL!" Leo shouted angrily, rushing towards their father while glaring menacingly at his guilty brother.

Raph stood there, almost in shock, palming his hands up in surrender, his mouth working as if attempting to say something. However, no words escaped in that moment. Finally, though, after a second or two, he was able to stammer, "I…I didn't, honest! God, Leo, I would never…"

In the next moment, however, Raphael found himself horizontal in the hallway and on his back like the proverbial turtle in distress. Leo stood over him, breathing hard, glaring daggers, and with his right hand fisted. "How DARE you strike our father!" he challenged, his voice echoing as it bellowed through the concrete lair.

"NO! I...I…didn't, I…DIDN'T!" Raph insisted, rubbing his now reddening cheek, "You gotta believe me, guys, I'd NEVER hurt Sensei!"

Hearing the commotion, Mike charged back into the hallway and helped Donatello right their father to his feet. He then shot a threatening look at his roommate but kept quiet.

As soon as the master was vertical once more, he quickly reassured them, "I am fine, my sons," and Splinter dusted his kimono as he added, "I moved out of harms way just in time." He smiled then and, if he didn't have fur on his face, they would have certainly seen their father blush. "I tripped over my tail," he explained, "Raphael did not strike me." Master Splinter then smoothed his robe out as he added, before looking down at his prone son, "The radio broke when it hit the wall, however, Raphael…?"

Raph looked positively horrified; his eyes wide and glistening with repressed tears. Still cupping his bruised cheek, he choked apologetically as he turned a mortified face to his father, "Sensei, I didn't know you were there, really, I didn't…I…was just… just…"

"Angry?" the rat interrupted, steeling his gaze at his son, still sprawled awkwardly along the concrete floor, "that much we all know, Raphael." Then, Splinter offered his paw to him, but Raph hastily waved it away.

"No, I – I can get up on m'own," the turtle insisted, soon rolling over and climbing to his feet. Now completely chastised before his family, "I…I don't know what to…to say."

"Sorry, would be a START!" Leo fumed.

Raph leveled a challenging glare at his older sibling, but then caved and nodded sheepishly, "Yeah, yer right, Leo." He looked towards Splinter again, "I am sorry, Sensei, I didn't mean…"

"I'm all right, Raphael," the master assured again, trying to smile just a little more, "but this is a problem that you've allowed to control you for far too long." Motioning toward his bedroom, Splinter invited, "My room, now, and the rest of you return to yours. Dawn is only a few hours away and I will still insist on morning practice." He then turned on his heel and headed back towards his room, with a subdued Raphael following behind him.

As Raph passed his three brothers in the hallway, one of them whispered, "You are soooo dead!" Mike smirked as he stifled a giggle

However, he failed to notice his father's turned ears.

"And you, Michelangelo, will clean up your room and the mess that your brother made!" the rat declared, "and before returning to bed."

"Oh, man!" groaned the orange-banded turtle, whereupon Don and Leo smiled but said nothing in reply. They had learned long ago never to underestimate their father's sharp hearing.

Unfortunately, they forgot how well their father knew them.

"And Leonardo and Donatello…" the wise master added, "both of you will help him!"

Another round of giggles spurted from Mikey as a duet of groans sprung forth from his two older brothers. "Hey, just look at it this way, bros," Mike's nauseatingly cheerful voice announced, "at least with your help, I'll get to bed faster!" He quickly slipped into his shared bedroom, though, missing Leo's rounding foot as it tried to smack him in the shell.

While his brothers went about cleaning up the disaster-laden bedroom he shared with Mikey, Raphael followed Splinter into his room. The rat went about lighting a few candles and then his incense sticks, before easing up onto his bed. He didn't have to tell Raphael what to do, as his son eased down on the floor as expected. Folding his legs in the traditional lotus position, the turtle hung his head dejectedly, sorely vexed with what he had done. He sighed once, then again, until his father interrupted him.

"Raphael, I forgive you."

Those words caused the troubled turtle to look up at his father. The young ninja's eyes filled to brimming with fresh tears again. But, as before, not one drop did he shed. He hadn't cried in years and he wasn't about to start now, yet he could not stop his eyes from pooling. He then shook his head in denial, "I could'a hurt you, Sensei, I could have really hurt you!"

Chuckling, the rat replied, "No, my son, you could not - nor did you."

Defiant to his father's assessment and thoroughly convinced otherwise, "Yes, I could; you never trip, you're never off balance, Sensei!" The turtle's expressive eyes were angry – more with himself than anything – but also fearful, too. For Splinter to trip, would be like Raph losing his shell. In his mind, his father was beyond such things. Yet, to see his sensei stumble the way he had, frightened the young ninja. It was obvious the master was getting old and the youth feared what that might mean.

"Do you think that I am perfect?" Splinter asked calmly.

Raphael wondered about that and had often complained how 'perfect' Leo tried to be, trying to be like their father in all things. It irritated the red-banded turtle to no end, too, because it always seemed like 'sucking up' to him. Yet, if Raph had to describe his father, his sensei, he would have to admit to seeing the aged rat as just that – perfect in every way. He was perfectly patient, perfectly wise, perfect in all ninjitsu, and perfect in always saying what needed hearing without wasting words.

"Yes," was Raphael's simple reply.

"Then," the rat sighed, "you are correct."

Raph's eyes widened a bit, his father's brief momentary confession surprising him. "What?"

Splinter smiled, "I cannot tell you how to see me, my son. I know that I am not perfect, but I also know that to convince you of this would be next to impossible." He reached forward and placed a gentle paw on his son's head, "Your opinion of me is your own, Raphael, and like many who see their fathers - flawless. And in whatever way you see me is for you to decide. I do not agree with you, but it is your rightness to decide for yourself what I am." He leaned back and added, "As it is Leonardo's rightness to decide who to emulate."

"I…guess," Raph shrugged, more confused than convinced.

"You guess? Are you not sure who your brother tries to take after?"

Snickering lightly, Raph admitted, "Of course I do, we all do. It's no mystery, Sensei, he tries to be like you."

"And that is his right, if that's what he wants." The rat then asked, "But I worry who it is you admire most and who you are trying to be like."

Raph glowered for just a moment before stating, his voice less soft and more direct, "I'm trying to be me, Sensei, I don't take after no one. I can't, there isn't anyone…who…no one…um…"

"Who understands you?" the rat said gently.

Raphael locked eyes with his father for only a second before dropping his gaze to study the floor. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, "Yes."

"I see," Splinter said equally as soft. He allowed some silence to grow between them. He wanted a moment to assess his son's answer and especially in how to reply. During that time, he tried to discern Raphael's feelings and then thought about the many volatile outbursts the young ninja often displayed. Finally, something occurred to him, and his whiskers twitched in response, "It is this which disturbs you more." He sighed, "You know that I understand Leonardo, because he is trying to take after me. Moreover, although I do no understand most of what Donatello might say or the projects he is working on, I understand his curiosity." He smiled, then, as Raphael lifted his eyes from hearing these admissions, "And Mikey's mischievousness and love of life is like a balm to our reclusive existence. I might chaff under his hyperactivity, but it is this same energy that brings life and excitement to an otherwise depressing life."

Raphael held his breath. His father in his typically simplistic way, described his brothers 'perfectly'. He was certain that his father would admit, now, to his inability to understand him. Surely, he would, especially with what he admitted concerning his brothers. There was even a long enough interval to cause Raphael much concern regarding this, too.

Yet, what Splinter said next, surprised Raph far more.

"However, Raphael, your rage and your anger…" the master nodded just a little, "reminds me of - me, and what I was like just after our mutation."

"Say again?"

"Yes, my son," the rat sighed deeply, almost regrettably, "I had a temper so horrible, that it…nearly destroyed us."

A/N – Rhetorically speaking, were you surprised:-P