Worn out, but content as any proud father would be, Raphael pulled the corner of the large blanket over the jumbled body pile he was squished in the middle of, and tucked all freezing feet inside the boundaries of the woolly fabric with the use of only one arm. The other was stretched out to support as many sleeping heads as his sturdy limb could handle, the heaviest one being Donatello's. The burly terra double checked his children's comfort before studying the pale, drawn face resting nearest his. Even in exhausted slumber, Don looked to be in a continual state of pain, but at least his breathing had calmed and his pulse eased off the rushing adrenaline flow. The mama of his rambunctious bunch lay curled into Raph's side, his rounded middle completely shielded, surrounded by turtles who cared and happily provided much needed snuggles.
They didn't get to do this often, but it couldn't have happened at a better time. Don was carrying his last contribution for the clan that mattered, work at the forge had tripled in orders, running the blacksmith's availability thin, and terra soldiers were arriving by the platoon. Something ugly was up and the Elders were keeping everything disclosed to all but the highest ranking. Things were changing at an alarming pace and the bearer need all familiar semblances of security and protection he could get. Raphael's terra bitties got to spend time with Don, Raph enjoyed a break from the sweat inducing fires at the forge, and the bearer was sustained under all the attention and love.
As he lay there waiting on sleep to catch up, dusty thoughts surfaced, bothering and harmful. Some things even the patience of time cannot erode away. These had not, and they always manage to squirm their way into his head at the most contrary times; when he was most happy and convinced he wanted for nothing. Their suddenness surprised Raph. He hadn't been of the mind to revisit those thoughts for a good long time, not since he'd come to grips and unburdened himself with the past. He'd found purpose in protecting his bearer. Why now? What had changed?
The large turtle grunted when a little foot got him right under his chin, then sighed tolerantly. Roepule, the most shy and respectful of his younglings had quite the history of often throwing reflexive fits in his sleep. They usually never escalated to the point where anyone got hurt- maybe a few boo boos and ruffled feelings -and were easy enough to temper with a few light strokes to the stout child's chubby tail. Roepule was indeed a withdrawn butterball. Definitely not due to being overfed, the terra-turtle was simply thick boned and proportioned this way since birth. Watching his son toss about in his sleep detachedly, Raph became lost in the brilliant memory of Roepule's birth.
Donatello had panicked when the emergence was taking longer than usual, and when the babe was finally out it was immediately apparent as to why. They'd never seen something so small with that many chub rolls. He wasn't lengthy in inches at all, a few centimeters off the mark of average newborns in fact, short and round. Just born that way.
The welcomed, distracting image helped a big grin spread across the blacksmith's dark face. Grievous reflections forgotten, he went into more speculations of all his children.
First there was Raecoo, headstrong and possessing a fierce love for his Dona. Then the triplets, Ruemin, Ruetoo, and Rueyue, all three mischievous pranksters, destined to spend their lives recompensing the adults they deliberately targeted. Remy, curious about everything by nature and easily dazzled by the world around him. Ripin was a true cuddle monster, glomping his family at every possible convenience. Reeray was king in both words and actions, but often selfish when it came to the odd 'treasures' he would acquire from the fertile ground. Poor Razeek seemed to have inherited his father's short temper, but his younger brother Roolili was always hovering at his side to calm him down with one of those marvelous shell scratches he happily gave. Rotzar was wholly committed to assisting at the smithy with, Ryze and Raezic, who wanted to learn how to craft the most beautiful metal works. Excited Rebel, always fidgeting and bursting out in seemingly random giggles. Raenili, an instigator of all things rowdy and worrisome. Rin liked to bite, a lot, but was always quick to kiss the hurt away. Redeem was definitely the peacemaker of the lot: slightly cross eyed and Raph worried it would lessen his boy's chances finding a decent mate, but Redeem's loving nature more than made the difference. Raphael couldn't wait for Ryenel to be somebody else's problem, grudging turd was a spiteful git (still loved him though). Rebnala would be the tallest and strongest of his siblings, if only he wouldn't slouch and daydream of whatever the hell it is that goes on in that drifting mind of his. Roptulin and Repenzi were nigh inseparable, alike in every aspect except height; poor Roptulin would never catch up. And finally the teeniest (youngest), Rifel, so cute with his gummy smiles and those gimmie-gimmie hands.
They were worth every effort of every day, every single one of them. His tikes, and their Dona. Having all present and accounted for set his mind at ease and he could lay curled up with his family forever. Raph felt his tense body finally relax, signaling that 'yes, sleep is now possible', and heavy eyelids drooped shut. All about him was the collective heat of his precious turtles, their soft breathing steadily lulling him to a peaceful rest...
"Nngh!" That foot again!
Raph managed to sit up, one kid sliding off his belly, and quite a few complaining groans heard now that their incubator was moving away. A series of rapid kicks to his side guided his eyes to the small terra beginning to thrash under the weight of the bearer's protectively curled arm. Roepule's round face was scrunched up as if in fright and he was starting to fuss half huffed whimpers as he squirmed and kicked out at his unseen restraint. Fearing the noise would disturb the whole nest, Raph made to lift Don's arm and take his son into his arms and shush him. When his hands made contact with the youngling's legs to still their jerking, Roepule actually cried out and thrashed harder.
Cursing under his breath, Raph lifted his child up by his shell, and held the struggling bitlet as lightly as he could and still keep a sure hold of him.
"Shhh, Sh-shh." he tried shushing his little one.
Roepule kept crying, barely noticeable beads of tears managing to squeeze out from behind closed eyes, and roll down round cheeks. Some of the other younglings were stirring now, and Raph was going to panic if the woke up Don, the bearer in desperate need of a solid nights rest. He stood up, mindful of little bodies around him, and made his way as far from his family's hearing as the limited room of the tent allowed. He had to shift Roepule to decently rock him, and nearly dropped the bitlet; the kid was fighting him good.
"Here, let me."
There, a few feet away, was an adult terra soldier. Young, having barely reached full maturity, and almost as tall as Raphael, the turtle held out his arms for the child. The blacksmith didn't feel anything for the other's sudden, and uninvited company. That's what he told himself. He hadn't expected to see this turtle for months, let alone hear the sweet voice that might as well have been another's for all Raph's hearing cared. He stiffened and squared his shoulders, but wordlessly, he handed his son over.
Just when he thought the memories couldn't touch him….
Roepule whimpered and kicked against the gray plastron of the newcomer until a soft voice soothed him, "Sh-shh, so'kay baby. Shh baby."
Raphael watched, relieved, as the other terra pressed numerous kisses to chubby cheeks, whispering to the fussy child. The youngling hiccupped once then settled, boneless and churring in the terra's loving support. Calm, but struggling to make it appear so with his grim set expression, Raph gestured to the pile of squeaky snores, hinting for the other to put the tike to bed. How gentle and caring the younger warrior was with Roepule as he tucked him in caused a dry lump to form in the scarred turtle's throat. After one last good night peck, the other turned to him, head down cast.
Raph cursed his hesitancy. He should probably say something-
"What ya thinking, showing up here?"
-probably not that.
"Father I-"
Raph hissed lowly, waving a hand for the other to keep his voice down, "Not here, Lonalin!"
The other's light skinned head snapped up at unexpected use of his name. It sounded strained, almost pained, coming from the turtle he'd never heard address him as such. Hope gleamed in a flicker of dying candle light, and passed quickly… just as it should.
A hardy soldier stood before the blacksmith, "I had to warn you."
Raph let out a deep breath, the tension easing in his shoulders a bit, "Warn me? How'd ya get here anyways? I was told ya were running with the Southern platoons."
Lonalin fidgeted from foot to foot, "I am, we're here for second line duty."
That didn't bode well, "What ya mean? Ya saying the border skirmishes have picked up again?"
"No, the East territory defenses have been compromised. The humans are gaining ground fast. At the rate they're going they'll be here in three suns. The West side borders are holding their own just fine; the human's main focus seems to be cutting their way here, and contact with the East border patrols has been lost for nearly a week. North sent their grunts to join us on the run here and-"
Golden eyes narrowed to pinpricks, "Which rank?"
Lonalin faltered slightly, "The clan's primary physician and his party were escorting outskirters to the trenches, but-"
Raphael cut him off with a growl, "Buck up, and act like a terra. Quit out-talking the issue!"
The shorter terra huffed angrily, "The gentle doctor and attendants have been trapped in the thick of the fields. They haven't been sighted for too long and the Northern border troops have already been dispatched for search and rescue."
"Ya mean a suicide run. Those are our terras, Mike and big L are out there damnit!"
"I tried, I-"
Calloused hands gripped wheat green shoulders, "Get ya tail out there and bring our brothers home!"
Raph hurried his oldest mistake to the entrance of the tent, and pushed him out into the night's crisp cold air. He felt a curdling of guilt twist in his gut, but he'd say nothing to him up just now. He knew how capable his eldest was, and felt a display of concern was untowardly for this instance. Lonalin was a cautious soldier. He'd be fine….
"I will do my best f- terra Raphael." He almost slipped, but Raph didn't catch it, or if he did, he wasn't going to acknowledge it.
The large turtle's mind was positively racing with the dread of Don finding out his strapping, low ranking terra was running into a death race. That, and that their dear friend who was to deliver Don's last babe was missing.