A/N: LOL, guys. Mia is a saint. Yes. *cheers for that women* I'd like to say you'd see why Gavin's so stubborn if you knew what he went though...but i'm not ready to reveal that bit yet. He's a slow-roasting nut. And until the mini book I have planned for him, you'll just get nuggets because i'm gracious like that. *bricked*

I will say he DOES understand the difference between his Sect and the Hamatos. He just fears the pain he went through with his Sect will happen again with the Hamatos... :P

October 31
3:11 A.M.

God must've hated Nia. It was the only logical explanation for the trouble she faced.

There. Were. No. Taquitos.

'It should be outlawed to not have them in stock, it really should,' she thought while glaring into her parent's freezer.

With a huff, she slammed the freezer door then glanced at the electric stove. Little after three AM? The hole-in-the-wall convenience store outside Columbus Square should still have some in stock. Maybe even cooked, if she pleaded.

'Like I can sleep anyway. Today's the worst date of my life.'

That settled it. She left the kitchen then entered the foyer beyond it. She stopped by several coats that hooked along a decorative brass wall mount. Usually, two, maybe three garments, rested there. Now, an additional three joined Gavin's and Mia's, and Nia was powerless against the smile that overwhelmed her.

"Do jackets tell good jokes, Ni?"

Nia stepped back, her quilted coat in hand. Her head jerked towards the stairs' base, opposite of the front door. There, Raphael stood with crossed arms, smirking.

"H—hey," she said. "What are you doing up?"

The mutant quirked an eye ridge. "Took a page outta yer book. Had ta pee."

"That's not funny," the artist countered, smile gone. "It's a genuine problem."

"A common one. I know. Sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"Now can ya tell me what ya were ya grinnin' at?"

"No—nothing much. It's just…" Nia's gaze fell to her colorful coat then lifted to the mount. "I got really happy."

"Why?"

"We're not a family of three anymore." Nia words were whispered towards the clothes, to keep her eyes from stinging as she explained. "I joined your clan last year. Soph-chan and Adeline-san are now part of that. And soon"—her hands pressed her jacket against her bloated belly—"we'll grow some more. It took Mama almost a month to get Daddy to come to terms with it. Still, it…it makes me happy."

"Me too." Raph's whisper was gruff, barely noticeable.

His genuine love and fear stuck Nia's brain, though, so she faced him with a smile. He mirrored it like hoped then approached his wife on silent feet. Their eyes met when he traced a thumb over her cheek, a formidable force that weakened the young woman's fatigued body even more.

"Where do ya think ya're goin' alone?" Raphael asked.

"Seven-Eleven," Nia answered through puckered lips.

"Right now?"

"You don't understand. I need taquitos."

"At three in the mornin'?"

"Yes."

"Yer still cravin' those things?"

The foyer's chandelier flickered as Nia frowned. "The twins demand cheese and jalapeños. Otherwise, I don't sleep. And if I don't sleep—"

"Got it," said Raph with raised hands. He reached for a trench coat whose hem pooled around the hardwood floor then slipped into it.

Nia stepped back. "Wh—what are you doing?"

"Like hell ya're goin' alone."

"It's a little over a block away."

"Dun't care."

"I—I used to bring home food for Mama and Daddy all the time."

"It's basically Halloween," the mutant interjected. He stole Gavin's pin-stripe fedora and crammed it onto his head before wrapping Mia's scarf around the remainder of his green face. "On a day like this, my bros 'n I can pass as large freaks on the street."

"But—"

"Ya want taquitos?"

Nia met her husband's pointed eyes behind his red bandanna. "Fine. You win."

Raph watched the artist bundle herself up. Seconds later, she looked and felt twice as big and let him walk ahead of her after he nodded.

"Wait!" Nia cried at his back.

Raph stopped by the door. "What?"

"…I gotta pee."

Heavenly cheese. Wonderful peppers. Crunchy tortilla. Their taste was so relieving, Nia barely noticed the taquitos' spicy bite and sank into the cushioned chair on the townhouse's back balcony.

"Beddah?" Raphael asked from a matching chair.

Nia sent him a (pun intended) cheesy grin.

"Good," he added. "Ya ain't yerself when ya're cravin'."

"You sound like a Snickers commercial."

"Seems pretty accurate."

Sticking out her tongue, Nia picked up a sixth taquito from the cardboard container in her lap then bit it in half.

"Easy, Killer."

"Do I lecture you when you eat pizza with your brothers?"

The mutant fell silent. Of course, he realized he was nagging. That shamed him a little, but some underlying worry kept him from enjoying the moment. Nia felt the hot tug in her mind and chest.

"Ya sure cravin's 'n a pressed bladder are the only things keepin' ya up, Ni?" Raph asked.

Nia swallowed with great effort. "Th—this is about it being Halloween, right?"

"Mel 'n Don said bad dreams are common from pregnant women. An' ya were already prone ta them…I know how heavy today must make ya feel."

"It's as heavy as you felt before my birthday."

"That wasn't as bad."

Nia's mismatched eyes glanced away from the moon to find her husband. "Really?"

He nodded. "I did what I could. I watched a woman die. Felt it. She wanted me ta save her kid. I couldn't. But she trusted that I would. Me. A mutant. Even in her last seconds that…"

"Touched you."

Raphael wanted to deny his wife's soft words; he wasn't very sentimental in that sense. Still, he squeezed the fingers Nia slipped between his on the chair's armrest, acknowledging her with their warmth.

"I have been anxious," Nia said. "Especially since work is filled with Halloween talk, decorations, and…you know. It upsets me, what people say. Then I remind myself."

"About what?"

"They don't know me. I know what I did. It wasn't my fault. And I trust that everyone around me, my clan"—Nia's voice cracked—"won't let me slip away like that ever again."

"Damn straight," Raph about growled. His trembling fingers gripped hers tighter until her tears fell onto the armrest. "Bishop won't get the chance. Not him or any oddah coo-coo scientist. As long as I'm alive"—his emotions chocked him, so he clenched his teeth to keep tears at bay—"no one will hurt ya or our kids. Promise."

Nia smiled when her husband kissed her forehead, yet said nothing more. Despite the grim topic, there were worse ways to start a day. And for once in a long while, her nausea subsided.