A/N: Five more chapters left. Then an epilogue. Almost there, guys!

Sciencegal, Mike is a TOTAL corn ball, so all my corny urges are channeled through him. He sees things in a unique way. :'D

D, yes, Mike is my corny escape. LOL I gotta ask, though: why are you reading my romance series if you don't like romance? Just curious because my romance especially has got some big corny moments. Romance is corn and fluff. Like popcorn. To me. o wo

January 18
2:57 A.M.

Pain tore through Nia's abdomen. It felt as if glass shards burrowed through it towards her spine, over and over. An endless cycle. Had she not been starring at her watermelon-sized stomach, she would've sworn someone stabbed it. But no one was there. Neither was there blood.

So she licked her dry lips for the umpteenth time then banged her head against the headrest of the birthing chair Melody had situated her in God knows how long ago. Why had the cyborg left? Where was Donny? And how come Raph wasn't in the room?

She didn't want to be alone. Her pain left her breathless, burning. It soaked her shaky body in sweat so thick that hair clung against her face like tentacles. Labored breaths made her swallow a few, yet such a minor annoyance paled when compared with the jab that struck her sides and vagina.

A scream sounded. It felt like it belonged to someone else, though. Nia's tight throat kept her from speaking, so…who had cried out?

The young woman pushed herself up in the chair, except her propped legs allowed little movement. What's worse, the cramps forced her back. Cursing, she wiped tears from her prickling eyes then tried again.

Someone approached from the doorway. Someone in a lab coat. He wasn't tall enough to be Donatello or wide enough to be Leatherhead. Maybe it was…

"Me—Melody?" Nia croaked.

"Disgusting thing…"

Nia stopped breathing.

No. It couldn't be. She was in the Lab, a safe house. Bishop wouldn't know to look here. How could he be at her feet, smiling in disgust? He smelled of rotten meat and lifted an arm.

"Both of you, disgusting," the agent added. His arm tossed something sideways.

Nia fought the urge to avert her eyes from Bishop's sunglasses, but the dark green blur near her chair…it called for attention. She glanced down, and the tears she had wiped away were replaced with fresh ones as bile rose in her throat.

"He always talked too much. Fixed that. Shot him right in the mouth, like I have always wanted."

Raphael's muscular form was contorted like a discarded ragdoll, his face a bloody hole. Burned. Blackened. Bubbled. A plasma gun had been responsible, she just knew it. He had no chance.

"I cannot fathom how such horrible things exist," Bishop continued. "You were useful, but the other? He is even worse."

Other. Who was that?

A sudden image struck Nia's mind. Hissing. An onion-like stench. Dark Chi. The color red. And…black eyes.

The eyes enraptured her. Their darkness overcame them entirely and bled out through bulging veins around them. They were pits that intended on drawing their enemies in close, so as to consume them.

Once, she had almost been consumed…

"First"—Bishop's hoarse tone shattered the memory—"a human bears you. Then you mate with this creature and bear worse obscenities? Is there no end to the pervasion?" His head shook. "Forget it. You are unnatural. Monsters. Plagues. None of you should live."

"St—stop," Nia managed. She tried moving, except the pain and chair were too hindering. Her legs remained propped, her arms limp at her sides. And her heaves escalated into hyperventilation when Bishop raised a plasma rifle towards her stomach.

"All of you, disgusting."

"Do—don't!" Nia cried. "Please; th—they're my babies! Don't hurt them!"

The agent charged his weapon, his voice stone cold, "You were never meant to create life."

Then, the rifle fired.

.

"Kuso!" Raphael cried through the darkness. His toes curled in pain, having just struck some hard surface. Probably one of the many counter corners in the kitchen's second section. "Fuckin' Adeline an' her damn instance on more eatin' spaces!"

Weren't the two tables in the dining room enough? They seated almost ten people at each one. Why on Earth would they need additional space for seventeen people? Bull. Nineteen. There were also two bar stools at the counter section that 'wrapped up' the main kitchen.

"Why does she get a say in this place anyway?" the mutant asked, rubbing his tender foot. "Ain't like she's gunna live here…"

Right?

Naw. If Mike wanted Sophia to move in, it'd be just her and that damn ugly spider. The older loud-mouthed Italian could stay with Mia and Gavin.

Yeah, that sounded like a better plan.

"No, stop! Please!"

Shit.

Raph's foot met the ground in an instant. Before he could process the full distress in Nia's voice, he took off. He dashed through two entryways— pushing aside dining chairs and clipping his shoulder—then conquered a wide hallway that led passed the front door into the open living room. His gaze found the freestanding woodstove near the room's center and he skidded to a halt by the squirming figure bathed within its flickering light.

"Nia!" he called while capturing her wrists. She muttered in return, eyes wide yet unaware. "It's anoddah nightmare, Ni! Ya're alright!"

"This other is death," she whispered through short, erratic breaths. "He has no balance, no hope. H—he's death. He's…he's what I should be."

What the hell was she talking about?

Growling, the mutant pulled his wife up then cupped her face so she could look nowhere else. "Nia," he whispered, "please stop. This stress ain't good for our kids."

"Th—they're alive?"

Raph's heart sank at Nia's broken tone. "'A 'course. Ya've been takin' good care 'a 'em. Donny 'n Mel, too."

Nia blinked. When her eyes reopened, the vacant glaze over them faded. She looked up then let her forehead fall against his husband's plastron.

"I—I'm sorry," she said with a sniffle.

"Don't start that, Ni."

"But…I keep stressing you out."

"I'm always stressed." Raph wrapped an arm around Nia's shoulders, yet she remained silent. The Chūnin frowned, resting his wide chin atop her matted head. "Come on. There ain't much damage ya can do here like in Columbus. Our new place dun't even got workin' central heat yet. Ya forget why we're camped down here an' not in our new room? Although," he allowed himself to smirk, "we could make that hot."

"Stop it," Nia muttered. She hit him—a pitiful tap against his thigh.

"Seriously, Ni. We moved early for a reason. Ya need a place where if ya have a nightmare…it's alright. No angry neighbors are gunna come up complainin' about tripped circuits."

The young woman sighed.

"Ya…wanna talk about it?"

Nia brought her hands to his and kept her head ducked, silent.

"I—I get dreams where our girls grow up ta hate my guts," Raph said near an undertone. "Was it worse than that?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Can I…can I forget though? Please? I don't—I don't want to think about it right now. I don't—"

Raph's hand moved through Nia's wild hair. "If ya dun't wanna, dun't. Just know…I can listen every once in a while."

"Thanks, Huǒ…" With a shuddering inhale, Nia straightened. It seemed so sudden, Raphael's breath hitched when her hands met her stomach. She paused then caught the mutant's arm. She guided it under her nightgown, eyes wide, and pressed his palm against her swollen belly.

"Do—doesn't that hurt?" Raph asked. It felt wrong. Wasn't he squishing his kids?

"Do you feel them?"

"Feel wh—?"

Thumps. Soft. Fleeting. They barely translated through the layers of fat and skin, but they were movements. His kids' movements.

"Was that…?"

Nia smiled at Raph's agape expression. "You felt them?"

He nodded. Now he understood how he could've missed the sensation months earlier when the twins were half their current size. They left him mystified, for sure. Still, relief outweighed even his love.

"Told ya they were okay, Ni."

"I know. I just," her hands gripped his tighter as her vision fell on her stomach, "I'd wither and die if anything happened to them…"

"You and me both," whispered Raph. "Trust me."

"I do." Gaze lifting, Nia drew a deep breath then released her husband. "I need a shower. I'm all sweaty."

"Lucky for us, Donny installed the hot water heater before we came."

"Us?"

"Think I won't ever take a shower?"

Nia blanched. "Yeah, because that's what you meant. But now that I'm thinking about it, a bath would be better. I'm so swollen from the boobs down, it's not even funny."

"I'll join ya."

"The tub isn't that big."

"I didn't mean it like that. I'll sit on the toilet. Talk."

"I hate it when you force yourself to stay awake."

"Like ya haven't done the same for me. Besides, I can't fall asleep alone."

"You sure? I'm not in a mood to put out, my hemorrhoids are acting up, and I haven't shaved my lower half in literally over a month. I'm not a pretty sight."

Raphael laughed. No, it wasn't appropriate or controllable. And thankfully, he earned a playful shove in return.

"If you're gunna join, fine," Nia said. "Help me up the stairs and bring the blankets."

Raph stood to pull Nia off the living room floor. "Why the blankets?"

"I"—she glanced down—"I wanna be in the nursery. There's no heat, but…I'd rather sleep by the murals I painted for the twins."

It seemed like a good idea, actually. So Raphael gathered the blankets, just as asked, and followed his wife up the stairs.

A/N: Ni has got some stressing dreams and memories. Damn, Bishop. D:

BTW. Yeah, that second hybrid will play a part. Like, decades later. And we'll be delving further into Nia's memories about October come "Zadir's Peace". Lingering effects from everything, gosh darn it. /can't be simple/