A/N: It feels so weird having to release this book so slowly, as compared to the others. It's been a problem child from the start. LOL. Hopefully, I can update more often soon. Just 13 more chapters left to write. Then I can update every day or every other day. Yeah!

WOLF: Concerned is a great word for it. After all, she IS. She just shows it in a controlling way. And by the end of next chapter, you'll see how deeply Splinter's sickness affects her. ;)

Sciencegal: Least someone likes Damien. Glad you found it funny. :D Meanwhile, Splinter love for everyone!

D: Bishop is the WORST. It's why I enjoy writing him as the over-aching villain in this series. As for exercise thing; Mel knows that. That's why Splinter does exercises in the morning and evening. She was just against him moving TOO much. Can't deny that is her concern talking, though. LOL

Chapter 15: Nightwatcher

Melody heard Donatello enter Splinter's bedroom, yet didn't bother facing him since his pointed look was already prominent. Instead, she inhaled the air's subtle incense as her husband knelt beside her and kept calm when he spoke flatly.

"You drugged my father."

The cyborg's vision flickered his way then returned to the scraggly mutant lying beneath a thick blanket called a kakebuton.

"Melody—"

"He will wake in half an hour," Melody interjected, finding offence in the Chūnin's exasperation.

There was a long sigh that trailed into a groan. "I'm not going ask how you did this, but I will ask why?"

"He puts on a mask, Donny. In order to hear how he truly breathes, I…altered his afternoon tea."

"Friday's surprise check-up wasn't good enough?"

"Fatigue has set in over the weekend. He would not allow me to listen to his lungs again so soon."

"Pushed you away?"

"Twice…"

Donatello shifted closer when Melody whispered, his bare leg lining up with her covered one. Her gaze lingered on their different sizes before movement from his hand lured her eyes to where he held her unfeeling hand. She frowned at the thought of not realizing he had taken it—only imagining how nice his pebbly skin felt—then tensed her square jaw.

"He won't be happy when he wakes up," Don remarked, low.

"My duty is to care for him," the cyborg answered in a dull tone. She kept a firm frown until her husband stifled a laugh against her shoulder guard.

"Sometimes, it's crazy how you sound like Leo," he grumbled against the metal.

His lips' vibration wasn't as unsettling as his words, yet Mel shivered all the same, clenching her teeth. "Listen to him breathe, Damn Mechanic. Just…listen."

Thankfully, the purple-masked mutant did what she pleaded. After releasing his wife, he leaned towards his father, who slept soundly on his back. A soft crackle-like wheeze broke through the new silence—a distressing action from the old master's parted snout. It left the impression of a weakened child, and Don placed a gentle hand over Splinter's kakebuton as if the physical rise and fall of his chest was a tether to reality.

"It's getting louder," he mumbled, perhaps more to himself than Mel.

"You did not notice before because he is skilled at hiding it," countered Melody. "He is taking vitamins and medicines; however, bronchial infections cannot be subdued with over-the-counter cold remedies. Nor tea. They need antibiotics."

"He hasn't been coughing much, though. I had hoped…"

"Licorice Tea. Nia bought it at a specialty store for him weeks ago."

"That supposedly helps with upper-respiratory issues, doesn't it?"

"It can, though its side-effects give rise to other problems. He has been using it to hide his non-cancer symptoms."

"I don't understand." Donatello glanced over his muscular shoulder at Mel while his hand remained on his father. "If his cold is worsening, why wouldn't he say something?"

"You would know that answer better than I," answered the lithe cyborg. She forced her eyes from her husband's worried face, though Splinter's sleeping figure didn't ease the knot in her stomach either. "We are struggling for answers for the cancer. Perhaps he feels an additional sickness would be too much."

"April's figuring out connections." Don spoke like Mel was Splinter and his annoyed hurt cut deep with guilt.

"Then maybe waiting for her is not what we should be doing."

"What do you mean?"

Melody raised her vision so it settled on Donatello like an anchor. He knew what she was about to suggest, hence she cut off his protest by speaking sternly, "It would be fine, Damn Mechanic. I know who to contact, and they would be ready—"

"No."

"Don—"

"I said no." Rare was Donatello's dark glare, so when he flashed it, Mel's strong jaw hung slack. "I'll talk with April and Gavin sometime today. We'll figure out a solution, but the Black Market…it'll have to be an utter last resort."

"The time is coming, Donatello," said the young woman crossly.

"But not yet. Please." Gathering what little face he had left, Don sat back to grip Melody's hands with both of his, staring into her eyes while his thumb fiddled with her marriage bracelet. "Give them a chance."

"They've had weeks."

"Chemo is a tricky request. Antibiotics will be easier."

"I doubt it."

"Mel"—the purple-masked mutant cringed—"we'll figure this out. I—I know it's hard because of what happened with your mother. But you've turned over a new leaf, which means ties to things like the Black Market should stay severed…"

Melody refused a reply; partly because she hadn't been convinced and partly because she knew he would make her promise to forget the tie altogether if she persisted. Thus, quiet, she let her husband kiss her hot forehead, gaze set on how tightly he gripped her hands. When he stood, she looked up with a careful expression that wouldn't betray what she truly thought, so he sent a smile in ignorance, saying,

"I'll go call now. Make sure he wakes easily." Melody nodded, and Donatello's grin turned somber at her quietness. "I love you, you know?" he asked gently.

Mel swallowed thickly under her husband's brown eyes. "I know." A passing of silence cocked Don's head, leading the cyborg to add, "I love you too."

Apparently satisfied with the exchange, Donny headed for the bedroom's shoji screen door. The moment he exited, Melody gave into her scowl, and studied Splinter as he moaned lowly beneath the covers.

'Claim what he will, Splinter has endured almost four months of pre-treatment therapy. Without any treatment follow-up. This is it; we no longer have time to deal with Recro-12 like I thought would be the answer.

'Sorry, Damn Mechanic…we must work with something that will produce results for once. Even if I must trek through so-called Nightwatcher territory to arrange a meeting…'

The idea was hardly alarming as Melody reached for her Shell Cell.

Raphael smirked behind his Nightwatcher helmet; seeing yet another Forty-Four Street kid bite the dust never grew old, and he chuckled as the villain squealed like a little girl against the asphalt behind a semi-secluded shop. Really; could they sound any less intimidating?

"Ta think, ya'd go this far for a backwater tobacco store," the hero commented while readying his Manriki-gusari for another round.

"It ain't the store, punk," said one crew member as his scarecrow form rose from all fours.

"It's the principle," another added, a female. Her voice rang with a pleasant lull, unlike her four male counterparts, yet the domineering spark in her dark eyes outmatched theirs.

"It don't represent much," Raph countered, chain now swinging.

"Like you'd understand." Despite the bandana she wore over the lower half of her face, the hothead could tell her lips were downturned with disgust. He was good at sensing such things.

"Well cry me a river, cowgirl. Maybe some time behind bars will give ya the therapy ya need."

That said, Raphael's powerful arm sprung into action. The Manriki's chain shot forward to wrap its weighted end around Scarecrow's slender ankle. He jerked its length sideways once secure, denting one of the few cars in the half-lit parking lot with the gangster's body. Scarecrow groaned and while he slumped, dazed, against the Monte Carlo's front wheel, Raphael retracted the loosened chain expertly.

His preparation for the second body barreling towards him was rendered mute in a second. A bright flash of pink and black filled his vision just after a weight settled on his shielded carapace. He growled at the thin figure that flipped off him like a hurdle then landed behind Bandana Girl, back to back. The gangster froze with alarm by the time the newcomer spun a long staff, jabbing it behind, towards her neck.

So Raph snarled as Bandana Girl writhed then dropped under the staff's crackle. "What the hell are ya doin' here, Pink?"

"Looked like you were having fun," the green-haired heroine returned with a devious smile. "Thought I'd join you."

"Sorry; this party's for one."

"Guess I'm crashing it then."

Starberry Girl gave no chance for retaliation. She headed for the remaining crew members who had recovered from Raphael's first assault, and readied her staff. Was he supposed to stand for such meddling?

Hell no.

Frustration animated the mutant like a wildfire, giving new life to his Manriki when he steadied himself. Its solid ends quickly captured the skinny heroine above her pleated mini skirt, so Raph just as quickly whipped her aside. He didn't care if his brute force bruised the little lady, and the fact that she recovered from his assault by twisting in mid-air then landing on the roof of another car left his jaw clenched.

'What is she, a monkey?' he thought as she slipped through the slack chain.

"Look," the female started with an edge of embitterment below her sweetness, "I'd rather not hurt you. I have a friend who might be mad at me if I did."

"Ya hurt me?" Raphael scoffed.

"You shouldn't aggravate a power you know nothing about."

"Whatever." Posing again, the hero glared at Starberry Girl on the car roof. "I make a livin' outta aggravatin' things."

"So says my friend."

"Well, I'll have ta talk with yer friend. Right after this!"

The Manriki shot forward again. Only this time, it didn't meet its mark. Rather than capturing the heroine's thin arm, it caught her staff. And the green-haired female twisted her head away from the weighted end that twirled up it. With a maddening smirk, she spun so the chain slipped off the staff's shaft then avoided the next assault Raphael made with the Manriki's other end.

Her boots thumped on the asphalt, but she faltered when Raphael sought the staff on purpose. He yanked the weapon from her gloves so it slid beneath the car beside her and abandoned the Mankiri altogether when he dashed forward. The first swipe of his fist was meant to test her reflexes. They were good, considering it missed her then took out the car's side view mirror; however, he'd seen faster response times, so the next fist landed on her side.

"Cafone!" she hissed with strange accentuation. A curiousness of how hard she could hit his helmet left Raph still, yet her fist never arrived like promised. It was a distraction while she dropped to roll between his spread legs.

He whirled to find her by the car, reaching below it for her staff. "Can't ya stick ta yer own territory?" he bellowed as she shifted on her knee pads.

"What do you have against teamwork, Defi'?" she countered. Avoiding his grasp, she sneered below the black mask hiding her eyes then gestured towards the Monte Carlo not far away. "Look where it led you."

A glance upwards revealed an empty parking lot, free of any gangsters. It took all of Raphael's will not to outright scream and dent another car, but he hadn't been at fault. And he knew just who to point an accusing finger at. "Dammit, Pink, ya should'a minded yer own business!"

"Yeah, because that's where the problem started."

"I had things handled."

"Not the point."

"There was a point ta this?"

The green-haired heroine shrugged, wringing her staff so that it somehow retracted into a smaller state. Then, she placed it on her back. 'How the hell does that thing stay?'

"Look, Pink—"

"Starberry Girl."

The mutant rolled his eyes at how soft the heroine looked, even while perturbed. "Whatever. We've talked about this. Why the sudden interest in wantin' ta be partners?"

"Whoa there, Casanova." The heroine held up her hands as if genuinely sickened. "Firstly, there's no partnership. I already have a partner, and he's a lot more fun than you. Second, it's recently come to my attention that the heroes of New York should work closer together, before matters get out of hand."

"Things are already out of hand," Raph grumbled. He wasn't sure if his helmet hindered the comment, but whether she heard or not, Starberry Girl huffed.

"If you want honesty, I think the EPF are preparing for a bigger move. And someone needs to stand against them."

"Or is it that yer hopin' they'll move? An' yer little trips ta their Hubs are seein' ta it."

"You think I'm the one bombing Hubs, Defi'?" She gawked for all of two seconds before placing her arms akimbo. "Ask your friend, Turtle Titan. He knows for a fact I'm not."

"Speakin' 'a my friend," Raph noted darkly, "what's yer business wit' him?"

"Nothing more than a mutual partnership," the heroine answered as simple as her hand ran through her green ponytail.

"Why him?"

"Because he has talent. He's funny. And, ya know,"—Starberry shrugged one shoulder, fingering her bow—"he's good with kids."

Raphael sent a blank stare. "What the hell do kids have ta do wit' anything?"

"Relax. TT's in good hands; I'll protect him."

"I swear if ya hurt him—"

"My goodness, are you sure he's just a friend?"

The sass of the human's words curled Raph's fingers into fists, and he spoke lower than usual, "He's one 'a my best friends. So if ya betray him, I'll be lookin' for blood."

Starberry must've sensed his truth; the playful smile across her thin lips fell and her high-pitched voice lowered as well. "I don't know what kind of impression you have of me, but I'm a hero, like you. Hearing about the Phantoms in this city made me feel safe when I moved, and once reports of them ceased, I couldn't sit back. I want to make a difference. To do that, I'll need help…"

Guess her explanation seemed sound. However, Raphael wasn't ready to accept her into the fold. He eyed her warily as she sighed then scratched the back of her neck above her pink sailor collar.

"You are like a walnut, aren't you?" she asked. The mutant needn't wonder where the analogy came from; he could vision Michelangelo's cheesy smile vividly. "As you say: whatever. I meant to tell you I think the heroes in New York should unite, and I did just that."

"Yeah, thanks for the invite, Sailor Takeover," retorted Raph, dry.

The female flashed a frown. "Use as much time as you want, Defi'. If your hesitance means more time alone in TT's company, I prefer it."

"Don't get cozy," the hero spat towards Starberry's backside.

"It may be a little too late," she countered while jumping on the Monte Carlo, smirking. "We've already exchanged numbers."

If Raphael had been carrying his sais, he would've chucked them at the young woman who retreated over the lot's chain link fence with the stealth of a cat. Instead, he stomped a foot against the paved ground and cursed the figure retreating across the street.

'I swear; as soon as I'm done sweepin' my territory, imma kill Mikey.'

Hun found Pierce's presence less tolerable than Switchblade's. While the pale blonde cyborg knew his boundaries, the lean African-American ignored his. And his actions often tested the Purple Dragon leader's patience, which was about as gracious as his mentor's had been.

Then again, there was no point mentioning dead prodigies.

Hun sneered at the knife-handed cyborg in his office, eyes set on how casual his smirk was.

"A hidden PD made the call: Skunk the Third," Pierce said as he flicked his long fingers like scissors. "The store's still ours. I mean, Hamlin and her groupies were stopped by the Nightwatcher, but they made the move."

"What are you asking?" Hun snarled behind his desk. He meant for his booming voice to cease Pierce's infernal tick, so when the cyborg continued absentmindedly, the blonde's glare darkened until he stood still.

"Isn't it about time we launched a stronger assault against the Street Crew?" Pierce asked, sour.

"I have a plan."

"I know. But Switch and I can do more than plant evidence."

"You will do just that until I deem otherwise!" Hun slammed his massive fist down then stood from his chair. A quick step placed him at his desk's side, yet he didn't approach the cyborg, who stood shorter than him and flinched. "Our priority is gaining back Hunt and possibly Little Spice," he said in a fierce undertone. "We have to play our cards carefully with the EPF. The Street Crew can be dealt with at any time. If you're so antsy for more, track Scales and Bones."

"That'd be easier if they weren't sticking close to cops," grumbled Pierce while whipping thin cornrows over his shoulder. "At the rate Spice and Hunt were taken down, I'd be joining them if I made a move."

"Guess you'll wait then," Hun shot back, nearly amused. He scoffed then smirked when the younger male glowered. "I said track them. I never mentioned retrieving them. So you'd better be careful where you tread, if you want to stay in my employment. Meanwhile, I have another run for you to make."

"Already?"

"This has nothing to do with the Hubs. We have no new evidence."

"Then what am I doing?"

"Following a lead." At Pierce's quirked brow, Hun folded his muscular arms. "I have grounds to believe one of our members is working with a Street kid for a side operation."

In seconds, the smirk returned to the cyborg and intrigue lit his voice, "A secret collaboration?"

The leader nodded—a firm, absolute action. "I want you to hunt the member using him for Black Market buys. And bring him to me."

A/N: Raph and Hoshi - two hotheads collide! That's their relationship in a nutshell. Anyways, next chapter is a two-parter called "Flare". In it, Mel and Raph cross paths in an explosive way. Stay tuned, and don't forget to review! ;)