TMNT does not belong to me. Just Annie & Co.

Companion to 'A Different Kind of Mutant'.

The first half of this fic takes place right before the beginning of Chapter 43. The second half takes place right in the middle of Chapter 44, six days before Christmas.

Master Splinter is worried about his daughter-in-law. An early morning conversation brings Annaleigh's secret to light.

My sons are trying their best to remain quiet as I meditate in the central room of our Lair. Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo are watching a movie. I can hear Raphael taking his anger out on the punching bag.

My red-masked son is worried. Sora is asleep in their room, as she stated that she is not feeling well. Again.

I do not like the idea of her going to meet her sister by herself today. She stated that she will take her dog, but that did little to reassure me or Raphael.

It has been several weeks and Sora's stomach issues have not resolved. Her symptoms are not getting worse, but… My son is worried about his wife.

We all are.

I have meditated on this frequently, but no solution is presenting itself to me. Aside from one. However, Sora does not like doctors. She has made it clear, given her mutation, that she does not trust them. She has chosen instead to enlist my help with herbal remedies. The herbal teas, compresses, and supplements that I have recommended do soothe her, but only for a very short while.

Donatello has offered multiple times to research medications that could help, but his research has shown that almost all of them require a trip to doctor to obtain them. Sora has politely declined every attempt my purple-masked son has made to convince her to be seen by a medical professional, much to his and Raphael's frustration.

Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Mr. and Mrs. Jones have all attempted to convince her as well, with no success.

Sora has even admitted to me that her sister has tried to change her mind during the many phone conversations they have had over the past month.

Despite my worry, I feel a small smile grace my features. Sora may be quieter and gentler than Raphael, but her stubbornness matches his perfectly. When Raphael had first voiced to me that he and Sora wanted to get married, I had not been surprised. I had not wanted to try to convince them to wait, but they are still young. I had wanted to give them more time for them to reflect, to be sure of their decision. They agreed to wait a month and I had watched with pride as they had used that time to strengthen their relationship and grow closer.

Since they met, I have watched Raphael gain more and more control over his anger. He is more level-headed and much less prone to outbursts of rage. He still loses control from time to time, but he is learning. He is also more content with our lot in life. He still resents that we must hide from the general public, but no longer to the extreme he used to. Sora is good for him. He no longer feels loneliness.

Sora has changed too. Raphael's influence has made her more confident, less shy. She has always been confident around me as I have known her since she was a toddler, but with her brothers-in-law and Mr. and Mrs. Jones she was more reserved. The more time she spends with my red-masked son, the more outspoken she has become. She is much faster to voice her opinion, no longer worried about how the others will react.

Raphael utters a soft curse under his breath as his fist connects with the punching bag again.

I am allowing myself to become distracted. I breathe deeply and the sound of Raphael's punching stops. I can sense him coming to sit in front of me, taking a meditative pose as well.

"I'm sorry, Sensei. I didn't mean to… That just… slipped out," my son says with remorse. He misunderstood my attempt to restrain my wandering thoughts as a reprimand for him.

I open my eyes and meet his amber gaze, taking note of how tense he is, "That was not directed at you, my son. I understand." His eyes widen in surprise, and I continue, "I find myself unable to keep focused."

He slumps, "If I was being too loud.."

"No, my son. It is nothing you or your brothers have done. My own thoughts are proving difficult to control today."

His fists clench and his brows wrinkle in worry, "That's really not like you, Sensei."

"It is when I am worried about my children," I say gently. I am never able to truly meditate when it comes to the health and safety of my sons and my daughter-in-law. When Leonardo had been injured by Shredder and the Foot, I had not been able to keep my concentration long enough to truly meditate. I had been the same way when Sora had been shot. And now that my daughter-in-law is sick for no apparent reason…

"Annaleigh," Raphael breathes softly, knowing exactly what I am implying.

I nod, "I do not have to tell you that the herbal remedies are not working."

"I know. But she's so…" He gives a frustrated sigh, "She won't go to the doctor, Sensei. No matter what anyone says. You've even tried to convince her. And it's not like I can carry her there…" he finishes glumly, turning his eyes to the ground. He looks back up to me, "April told you how Annaleigh reacted to that garlic bread she was making, right?"

"She did, my son. I have taken that into account as well."

"Annaleigh told me that she's never reacted that way before. Garlic bread used to be one of her favorites." He takes a shaky breath, contemplating something. Something he seems scared to voice. Zeb, Sora's Australian Shepherd, pads quietly over to us and settles by Raphael, his furry head resting on my son's knee. Raphael absentmindedly scratches his wife's dog behind the ears.

"My son?" He doesn't answer me. "Raphael."

He shakes his head, seemingly coming back to himself. "What if… Her senses are a lot sharper than ours… More sensitive…"

"I am not quite sure that I follow, Raphael."

He looks down at the ground again, "What if, being down here… What if being down in the sewers this long has affected her? What if, living down here, just so that she can be with me, has made her sick?"

"Raphael, my son. Please look at me." He does, finally. "Sora has been here in the sewers with us for much longer than her sickness." He flinches at that last word. "My son, this is not your fault. Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with living in the Lair." I reach forward to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "It has nothing to do with her choosing to live with you. You did not do this to her."

A thought nags me. It had started when Raphael had mentioned Mrs. Jones. And Sora's reaction to the garlic bread… Mrs. Jones had reacted negatively to certain foods frequently when she was carrying her daughter. Sora's symptoms are more extreme than that, but Raphael did just remind me that his wife's senses are much stronger than a normal human's. Could it be…?

My son is a mutant turtle. His wife, although a mutant as well, is human. What I am starting to suspect should not be possible. But what if it is?

A picture of my red-masked son proudly holding a blanket-wrapped bundle close to him comes to the forefront of my mind.

I want that for him. I want that for all four of my sons. I want them to experience the same pride and joy I feel at being their father.

However, what I am hoping for is only speculation. I need to meditate more thoroughly about this.

Raphael's tense posture relaxes a little at my words. "Are you sure, Sensei?" he asks, a little hopeful.

"I am certain, my son." I squeeze his shoulder again. "You are tired."

"I'm fine, Sensei. Sleeping like a baby." I can't help but smile softly at his choice of words, even though I know he is not being truthful. There have been multiple nights where the sound of him at his punching bag has roused me from sleep. I give him a look, and his façade crumbles.

I chuckle softly at him, "My son, you care so much. You always have. And while you are beginning to learn that it is okay for others to care for you too, you still have a long way to go. You do not need to hide your worry for your wife behind anger. You do not have to pretend that you are okay. We are all worried for her. Just as we are worried for you too."

"I know," his says quietly, his voice shaking. "It's just… I can't help her Sensei. I just feel so… useless."

"You are not useless, my son. You are doing everything you can for her. I have seen, many times, how just being near you helps her. Maybe that is where you should be now. You need to rest too, my son."

"There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep right now, Sensei."

"Then just be near her. And do not give yourself over to worry."

He snorts without humor, "That's impossible."

I nod sagely, "It may seem that way. But try to remember that we are all doing what we can to help. She will make it through this, my son. Your wife will be okay."

He sniffs, trying to compose himself and my heart goes to out to him. My stubborn, steadfast son has never been like this. I stand, hugging him fiercely before he can get up. "Everything will be okay, Raphael." I pull back, allowing him to stand. "Go and get some rest."

He's more composed when he answers me, "Yes, Sensei."

As Raphael disappears into the room that he shares with Sora, I sense Michelangelo come up behind me.

"Is Raphie okay, Sensei?"

I turn to look at my youngest son. My sons are all the same age, but somehow all of us have chosen to consider him as the youngest. I give my orange-masked son a reassuring look, "No, but he will be. Try to go easy on him for a while Michelangelo. He needs your support right now."

Michelangelo nods soberly, then looks back to the couch at his other two older brothers. They have paused their movie and are watching us.

Leonardo stands to join us, followed closely by Donatello. I look at the three of them, "He and Sora need us."

Donatello, ever my logical thinker, speaks, "Sensei. Our support is not going to help Annie. She's too sick for herbs, and her symptoms are nothing like a virus. She may not be getting worse, but she is definitely not getting better. She needs a doctor more than she needs our support. I've been trying to learn everything I can about human physiology, but I'm a mechanic. There's only so much I can do at this point, I won't be able to learn enough to help her in time. If she keeps refusing to get the help she needs…" he trails off, the atmosphere around us becoming heavy with his implication.

"He's right, Sensei. I know none of us want to force her, but we may not have a choice," Leonardo adds. "Letting her make her own decision about this has only made things worse. Raph loves her so much. If something happens to her… He'll never recover. We won't either, but I'm scared of what Raph might do…"

Michelangelo's expression becomes fearful, "Please talk with her again, Sensei."

They are right. I have never been prouder of them. "I will, my sons."

Early the next morning my family is all sleeping soundly, including Sora's sister Amie, and I take the rare opportunity of absolute quiet to meditate.

I reflect on how easily meeting my daughter-in-law's twin had went. Amie is blunt and much more outspoken and friendly than her sister. However, she is just as kind as Sora. I had seen that in how warmly she had hugged Raphael when Sora had first introduced them.

All of us had breathed a sigh relief. We had all been worried that we might have to deal with another Aaron-type situation.

I try again to focus my thoughts. I had promised three of my sons that I would talk to their sister-in-law. This time I must find a way to convince her. I know that may not happen. I know that, eventually, I will have to make it clear that I am no longer going to give her choice in the matter.

I do not like the idea of forcing her, but she is not giving me a choice either.

The sound of a door to one of my son's rooms opening brings me out of my thoughts. Sora, cat-eyed to see better in the dark, walks out of her and Raphael's room and softly makes her way to kitchen, unaware of my presence. I watch her for a moment as she pulls my teapot out, fills it with water, and sets it to boil. Her stomach is bothering her again.

I stand, making my way to join her and mentally preparing myself for what I know will be a difficult conversation. As I walk across the Lair, she selects a teabag and mug, placing them on the counter by the stove. She steps back from the stove a little, watching the steam that is starting to pour from the spout of the teakettle. My eyes do not miss the soft expression on her face, or the way that she tenderly places her hand on the lower part of her stomach. Her soft smile grows brighter as she seems deep in thought.

My chest fills with warmth and I smile to myself, I am finally able to let go of my worry for my daughter-in-law. When I'm still a few steps away from her, I allow my cane to tap softly, alerting her to my presence. Sora still jumps and she whips to the side in a defensive crouch, straightening with a sheepish look as soon as she realizes that it is me.

I chuckle, "It appears that congratulations are in order, Sora. Have you told Raphael yet?"

Her eyes widen with shock and I can see her fighting to control her expression. She finally does, giving me a fake confused look that does not work on me. I did manage to raise Michelangelo, after all.

"I… do not know what you are talking about, Sensei," she says, much too innocently. Her hand goes towards her stomach again, but she stops herself and reaches for another teacup instead, "Would you like some tea too?"

"I would, please. Thank you."

I give her a moment to pull the teakettle off the stove just before it starts to whistle. She tries to act like nothing is going on as she pours the boiling water into our cups. Her movements are nervous as she places teabags into both cups and moves to grab honey to stir into her tea.

I move to sit at the kitchen table and motion for her to sit beside me. There is no need to turn the lights on in the Lair. We can both see in the dark.

"You went to the doctor yesterday."

Sora does not meet my eyes. "No, Sensei," she answers, her voice slightly higher. "I went to pick up my sister."

I take a sip of my tea. "You were out long enough to go to the doctor too, Sora," I say nonchalantly, my voice as even as if we were having a conversation about the weather. This tactic always manages to unnerve Michelangelo whenever he is hiding something. Apparently, it works on my daughter-in-law too.

Her voice is still squeaky when she answers me, but she starts shifting more in her seat, "That still doesn't mean I went."

I force myself not to chuckle at her, shrugging my shoulders as if I am not too interested in the conversation. I silently sip my tea again. Waiting.

Sora breaks, a lot faster than her orange-masked brother-in-law ever would have. She has started shaking when she answers, "Okay, I went. Before I picked up Amie."

I smile encouragingly at her. "And nothing is wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing," she squeaks.

I cannot help myself now. I laugh softly at her, "Then why are you nervous, Daughter?" This is the only the second time I have called her this. The first was at her and Raphael's wedding.

She calms somewhat, but starts wringing her hands on the table in front of her. "Just… surprised. I mean, how can I be sick without there being anything wrong?"

Sora still has not realized that I have discerned what is going on.

"I am sure learning that you are pregnant was a surprise to Raphael as well."

I did not time that very well. She had started to sip her tea when I spoke and does what my sons call a 'spit-take' at what I said. She starts coughing and I pat her back as she tries to get herself under control.

She swallows nervously and meets my eyes. Her right hand moves to her belly again, but she does not stop herself this time. "H-how-?" she asks, getting up to grab a towel to mop up her mess. Her right hand does not leave her stomach.

"Your expression right before I surprised you." I look at her pointedly as she sits back down next me, "The fact that I managed to surprise you." She looks down at the table shamefully and I chuckle. "Which I can understand."

"That still doesn't explain how you managed to figure it out."

"Well," I take another sip of tea and motion to the hand she still has on her belly. "You have not stopped doing that. Add in your stomach issues for the past month and, also, your new sensitivity to foods you used to enjoy…" I trail off suggestively.

Sora rolls her eyes, huffing at herself. "Not very good at hiding it, am I?"

"Michelangelo has a better track record of keeping secrets than you do. And he breaks easily."

She laughs.

I reach over and clasp her left hand, the one not on her belly, "How did my son take the news? I'm sure he was relieved to know that you are alright."

She squirms in her chair again and I lift an eyebrow. Her sheepish expression comes back, "Well… I haven't told him. Yet."

"And why not? I am sure Raphael would want to know as soon as possible."

"I know, but Christmas is in six days." She rubs her belly, her expression becoming soft again, "I want to surprise him. Make it special. I want to tell him on Christmas Eve, before everyone else finds out."

"That would be an excellent idea, Sora. I will keep your secret until then."

She leans over and hugs my shoulders. "Thanks, Sensei."

I can feel tears pricking in my eyes as I allow myself to finally accept that the thought I had yesterday of Raphael holding that blanket-wrapped bundle is now a reality. I realize now that a full life is no longer out of the realm of possibilities for my sons.

Raphael will only be nineteen when his child comes but I know that my hot-headed son will be overjoyed when his wife tells him the news.

The tears do not escape, but I know that Sora can see them in my eyes as she pulls back. Her own eyes become watery and she gives a shaky chuckle, "You're a grandpa now, Sensei."

This time, I am the one to lean forward to hug her, "Thank you, Sora. You have given Raphael more than I could have ever hoped he would have. This child will be treasured by all of us."

"Especially by Grandpa Splinter, huh?"

Eleven years since I've visited this universe. Wow.

I've been going back, reading some of my old fics. When I re-read 'A Different Kind of Mutant' this scenario popped into my head and would not let go of me.

Hopefully, my wonderful readers will enjoy reading this little ficlet just as much as I've enjoyed writing it.