A/N: No more Hoshi and Figo banter just yet. We got other stuff brewing...Next chapter, though. Promise! :) Also, it feels like forever since I last posted a chapter. Weird.

Chapter 17: Tunneling

Maintaining a calm demeanor was growing increasingly difficult for Splinter from day to day. He wanted to smile, to assure his family of his health. But the truth was this: he felt terrible. Between the aches, lost appetite, lethargy, occasional fevers, wheezing, and unstable moods, he could no longer find peace. And it worried him how the symptoms were constant…

'How much longer must I endure?' the rat thought, shifting in the living room armchair.

Although his wrists and ankles hardly twisted with the motion, an expected burn raced through their joints. They left him near tears, bringing one paw behind him when his jerk reawakened new back pain. He grimaced as his claws prodded the tender flesh above his tail, and his remaining paw pulsed from the tight grip it held on his cane.

'The bed sore is worsening. I try my best to keep on my feet, away from the pressure point, yet it will not alleviate. If it begins tunneling…'

"Splinter-san? I—I've got your tea."

After a few blinks, Splinter glanced up in hope of hiding his discomfort with a smile. Nia returned his gesture and he forced his hand to remain steady when he accepted the tea cup she offered. "Arigato, Nia-chan."

"I—it's the K'ekchi brew," the young woman said softly, her eyes following the cup to his lap.

"With honey?"

Nia chuckled—a half-hearted action whilst she sat on the vacant couch. "Just how we like it."

The wizened rat inhaled the tea's aroma before sipping it. Unfortunately, its potent ease no longer affected him like months before, so he dreaded meeting his daughter's bleak expression.

"How are you?" she questioned.

"I am managing," Splinter answered.

"Your exercises aren't helping with the pain anymore, are they?"

"Nia-chan—"

"Please"—Nia twisted so her elbows met the couch's armrest—"if you don't talk about it, you'll only feel worse."

Splinter gave a haggard sigh towards his cup, riling heat against his sensitive nose. "Even so, the worry sickens me. I cannot, as a father, look into the eyes of my children, and know I am the source of their pain."

"I get that. But…"

"It is awfully quiet in the Lair. Why not tell me where everyone is?"

The artist her chin then glossed over the living room. "Well," she started, "Raph couldn't escort me from work because he got caught up with a project. And Mikey-niichan had to meet him at the, uh, underground garage."

"What of Donatello and Melody-san?"

Splinter twitched at the thought of the cyborg. 'Who knows what that girl was up to when she drugged me? I lost an entire evening and my eyes still feel heavy.'

"Strangely enough, Melody-chan was with them."

"So Donatello escorted you?"

Nia nodded, though she did so with an unease that made the master listen for extra motion in their Lair.

"Is he home?"

"No. H—he left to meet Leatherhead-san and April-chan as soon as we got back."

"Undoubtedly for another overnight study session." To keep from groaning, Splinter concentrated on the warmth of his K'ekchi tea. It soothed his palms and claws, yet offered no distraction from the troubled Chi beside him.

"I—it's just us, if you want to talk," Nia said near a whisper. "Not like usual, either. Y—you can be completely honest."

"I appreciate the offer, Nia-chan," the old master replied, gaze set on his cup.

The artist shifted so fast that Splinter's ear twitched when some of her tea spilled against the carpet. "Please don't brush it off anymore, Splinter-san. I know you've had talks with everyone before, but they haven't been fair to you."

Splinter sent his daughter a questioning sidelong glance and she sighed.

"You never say how you really feel. Are you scared we'll be upset?"

"No, my child."

"Then why?"

"Nia-chan—"Splinter faced the glossy-eyed human—"I cannot share everything. It is not because I do not desire to do so or that I lack faith in my clan's strength, but because I am a father.

"Donatello and Melody-san are working hard. Even so, I must recognize the possibility of failure. Sh"—the rat swallowed thickly—"should I unleash how I truly feel on their shoulders, the weight would crush them in the case of my death. The passing would be easier on everyone if they believe I have accepted this fate."

"But you haven't." Bold yet wounded, Nia shook her head. "I—is that why you're so angry? I can sense it like a flame off your Chi, so please don't deny it."

"You have come a long way in understanding your gift, Nia-chan," Splinter whispered.

"I know feelings, though I—I don't know the reason for them. A—are you angry at us for not having the answer yet?"

Her trembling lips were like a blow to the mutant's gut, and they tightened his throat once he realized what she had really meant. "I do not feel as if you or anyone else has failed me, my daughter. You, especially, have sacrificed more than a father would ever want. And I do wish you would stop."

"But I—" Nia hicked then turned towards the low-volume televisions.

Splinter had forgotten which show aired by now, and could not have cared less how much he missed. So he outstretched a paw over the armrests between him and Nia to regain her attention. "Would you like to know the real reason?" he asked in controlled words.

"Yes," she croaked, her eyes imploring.

"I am angry at my body." When the young woman blinked, Splinter collected his paws atop his cane, straightening despite how his bed sore stung. "I despise how weak it is growing, and loathe to think how worse things will become. I have trained rigorously all my life, yet that built strength is being taken from me like slow torture. I feel betrayed, annoyed, and…scared."

"S—scared you'll die?" Nia asked lowly.

The master met her gaze with a stern frown. "I do not fear death. I fear dying unfulfilled."

Confusion grew behind the young woman's eyes, lightening their blue-green color as her thick brows knit together.

"I—I could never leave this world without knowing my sons have found complete happiness," the rat continued through scratchy words. "Raphael and Donatello now have the most intimate form of support with you and Melody-san respectively. You have withstood the trials Fate has handed you and forged strong bonds I could not be more proud of.

"However, Leonardo is still lost. His letters are scarce, his mind fractured. I cannot tell him of my state in fear that he may break completely. As for Michelangelo"—Splinter paused for a bittersweet smile—"his hopes keep crashing. His tender heart has reached out towards two young women in need. Both have slipped from his grasp in radical ways."

"I—I never meant—"

Splinter shook his head. "Of course not, Nia-chan. Michelangelo's feelings for you were not your responsibility. And he came to accept your choice in time."

"And that one girl, Christina, she…"

"Possibly had every intention of leaving with Michelangelo before her death." It hurt to sigh so deeply, though memories of his youngest son's depression paled in comparison. When compared with Leonardo's expression before he left for South America, the pain strengthened exponentially—to the point where Splinter's body shook. "They both have wounds yet to heal. I cannot leave them without knowing they have found someone who can mend them. Yet I may have no choice…"

Nia was silent and remained so when she sniffled.

"So you see," Splinter added after a moment, "I am not ready. There is much I must witness, and realizing I may not get the chance makes me curse my body. It has been so healthy for so long. Then now, of all times, it wishes to deteriorate? Why could it not have waited? A few more years at least. By then, my eldest and youngest may have found someone they could lean on as well."

"Y—you…you really think you're going to die…"

Nia's whisper barely carried over the faint chatter from Splinter's soap opera, yet sunk into the mutant rat's chest like hot coals. He held no energy to fake a smile, and was only saved from reiterating his belief when the Lair's entrance grinded.

Splinter twisted his head towards it, noting the five bodies filing into the Lair. "Okaerinasai, Minna-san," he addressed to his clan.

"Konbanwa," they returned in staggering voices.

"Donatello, April-chan"—Splinter glanced from the redhead to the purple-masked Chūnin—"you are home sooner than expected."

Donatello blanched a little then regarded his shorter siblings with a calm sidelong glance. "We needed to stop at the garage for some tools, and happened on these three."

Raphael regarded the genius' pointed thumb like a still spider. "Told ya we were workin' on somethin' an' it went bad, Brainiac. Ya didn't need ta see us home."

"Mel stitched your leg with equipment from my emergency kit in the garage, but her back needs serious treatment."

"We would'a been fine."

"Like you can tend second-degree burns."

"She could've instructed me."

"Now you want us to believe you'd follow Melody's lead?" Michelangelo added while bending in half.

Raphael's golden glare forced him upright again as he smirked. "I did on April Fools. Remember that?"

The orange-masked mutant shuddered, retreating to Nia's side on the couch. "Your husband beat me up so meanly," he whined.

The artist collected herself with a breath and patted his bald head, though she didn't say a word after sparing Splinter a miserable look.

"You two should be more careful where you look for parts," April noted while crossing her arms. "Though I find it weird Melody accompanied you to the Junkyard in the first place."

"Why's that?" Raphael shot back.

"Only machines she can identify are medical. Why would she agree to help you look for spare parts for the Battle Shell and Shell Cycle?"

"I am stronger than he is," Melody interjected, square chin raised. "How could I pass up the chance to toss heavy objects at him?"

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" April countered with a mild sneer.

"Okay." Donatello moved so he stood between the strong-willed females. "Melody, can you come with me to the Lab, so I can look at those boiler burns?"

The cyborg remained silent and did not nod. Still, she followed her mate without complaint, not bothering to return April's frown or acknowledge Splinter's dubious stare. Once they disappeared down the hall, the wizened rat concluded he likely would not receive an answer for the cyborg's earlier actions until they spoke one on one. And so he watched the redhead as she turned to Raphael.

"What?" the hothead demanded.

"A boiler accident?"

"Yeah," answered Michelangelo. He earned the redhead's intense stare then smiled. "Melody's old house has been converted into a place for the elderly and homeless kids. A couple of guys found and repurposed an old boiler system, and Raph and her didn't know about it until Melody's back met it."

"Uh-huh."

"It's true, Dudette!"

Nia sent the nunchaku master a subtle look that April missed when she rolled her eyes. 'A lie perhaps?'

"Sure, Mikey."

"I'll take pictures if you'd like, before I meet Kaiya and Hugh on Tuesday."

"You're meeting them again?"

Michelangelo's smile grew. "Trying to make it a weekly thing. When's the last time you saw them?"

"I haven't seen Kaiya since the party, but I had lunch with Hugh a couple of weeks ago. We didn't talk about much; just a bit about the EPF presence within the NYPD, the Hub bombings, and"—she hesitated—"Splinter."

"You can inform him I am as one would expect," the mutant rat about spat.

"Of course, Splinter-san," April replied.

Splinter could not huff or snort without seeming irritated, so he reined in his feelings by struggling to his feet. The process was painful, slow, except he would not meet his family's eyes nor permit their help. He stood taller than his back would like then nodded towards the group while barely keeping upright with his cane.

"I should retire," he said in a stoic tone. "April-chan, you know you are welcome to stay overnight. And please inform Melody-san and Donatello I wish them a wonderful rest. Oyasuminasai."

Instinct led him to bow, though part of him knew the formality rendered his control pointless. He could feel the worried stares at the back of his head when he hobbled towards his bedroom, and it angered him to think no matter what he did, they would not ease.

He could only wish their suffering would stop, even at the cost of his life…

Hugh stretched his long limbs over his king-size bed. Being dressed down to his boxers and a light t-shirt always felt good after a long day's work, but lately it'd been more enjoyable. 'It's like every time I lay down, I feel lucky. Guess I don't realize how much is at stake until I come home…'

"Hugh."

The normally sweet voice of his wife had the detective inwardly cringing. "Yes, my love?"

"Look at me."

Hugh got the distinct feeling he was being set up, yet complied and lifted his head from the pillows. His curvy lover leaned against their bedroom doorframe, dressed in an open silk robe that barely covered her lingerie. His eyes traveled from her bare feet upwards, and he almost let himself get excited, until he noted the scowl across her tan face.

Yup. It was a trap.

"What are you doing?" Marina questioned.

"Depends. How are you feeling?" Regrettably, the man's impish smile earned him little more than the closure of his wife's robe.

"You don't show up for dinner then expect me to be in a good mood?"

"I called about the delay."

"You've been doing that a lot lately."

"It's my job, Rina."

"That's always your excuse." Sighing, Marina shifted so she leaned against the doorframe's other side. "Why not let me in on your cases? It's not like you work for Black Ops. You aren't sworn to complete secrecy."

"Some things are just"—Hugh glanced at his dark hands—"better left unsaid."

"Like threats against your life?"

The male jerked his head up, his knees drawing up in surprise. "Where'd you hear that?"

"You aren't the only one good at tunneling for information," the wavy-haired woman countered. She sauntered towards the bed, although Hugh felt unnerved rather than aroused by her hips' motion. "Damien knows more than me. How am I supposed to feel about that?"

"He told you?"

"Seems he's more willing to talk with me than you are."

"And your imposing stares have nothing to do with it."

"You wouldn't say anything. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Rina." Hugh crawled to the bed's foot to grasp his wife's hands, but she pulled away with a ferocity that jabbed him with guilt.

"Your busy schedule was okay for time. Now, I can't handle the secrecy, blind trust, and waiting any longer."

"Wh—what are you saying?"

The middle-aged woman strengthened her features so every line across her face stiffened with resolve.

Hugh's body tingled at their message, so he tried again to capture his wife. "Marina, think about this."

"I have," she spat while taking another step back. When her brown eyes darkened, he knew she'd been considering the matter for a long time.

"R—Rina, I know things have been stressful for a few months, but—"

The wife cut her husband short with a simple wave of her hand. "But nothing, Reese. If this is the road we're taking, if your coworkers are more involved in your life than me, then I…I can't stay. You don't get it. You don't know what it means to stand beside you and feel like an outsider."

"You're not an outsider," Hugh whispered. While he didn't want to panic, he also couldn't ignore his short breath as he knelt on the bed. "You're my sanity when I came home, my rock."

"What about my sanity?" Marina whispered back. "Where's my support? Y—you're hardly here anymore. It's lonely. And I can't…I can't take it anymore. I can't handle being in second place, especially not when…"

Hugh watched Marina's arms press against her chubby stomach, except she stayed quiet with her gaze set on them. "When what, Rina?"

The woman glanced up, her eyes hardening further. "You don't deserve to know," she said stoically. "Why do I have to share when you won't?"

"I share," the man snapped. He slipped off the bed to stand, although he knew better than the approach his wife at this stage. "Some things I have to keep from you so others are protected. And sometimes I do it for your safety. You think I want to live a life with so many secrets?"

"Is there really that much you aren't telling me?"

Hugh wanted to shake his head. It would be pointless, though; not only would he not be believed, he didn't want to add lying to his long list of offences.

"Bishop has threatened to devastate you and everything you love because of these secrets," the woman added, grim in tone and composure. "Yet you insist on keeping them. So much so that you sanctioned Kyle Erlich's decision to act as a mole in the EPF."

"The circumstances are a little more complicated than you might think."

"Then please elaborate."

Hugh closed his mouth, unsure how he could explain without repeating himself or sounding guarded.

"Thought so," Marina croaked. It probably was the reaction she'd expected but hoped wouldn't happen; her lips trembled despite how she clenched her jaw and her hard gaze grew glossy as she sniffled. "Is it fair to endanger me for your secrets? What about the Williams?"

"It's not that simple. I can't just back off."

"Why not?"

"Because Bishop would find a way to take me down regardless. I'm under enough pressure between Inspector Erb and the Hub attacks. That's right. A few people have hinted that they think I'm involved, particularly that stupid Agent Patterson stationed at the precinct."

"What does he matter?"

"Marina"—Hugh inhaled a shuddering breath—"I'm sorry. But a war is brewing in this city, and I'm already involved. I have to do my part to keep everyone safe…and not think selfishly."

Marina wouldn't glance away, though Hugh wished she would. Her glare was frigid and filled with a deep pain caused by him. It also kept him still—as if one false move could shatter his world.

"That's admirable for most, Hugh," she said after a pause. "Now listen to me. You're either a husband or a soldier. I'm either your partner or someone you simple share a space with. There is no middle ground. There's no more living on the outskirts of your world.

"I—I'll leave the choice to you. Meanwhile, I'll be staying with Jennifer and you're only to see Blaine at work."

There were no closing words. No 'goodbye' or 'see you later'. Not that Hugh could form a reply. The moment his wife neared their closet, his mind reeled. And when she exited it with a packed suitcase at the ready and a long trench coat in hand, his gut sank with reality.

She passed him without making eye contact. Was that for the better or worse? He didn't know. All he could be sure of was how painful it felt when the bedroom door clicked shut behind her.

A/N: I could write Splinter/Children talks all day. While he has much to offer, he still needs support at times. Don't know if I've said this before, but I feel Nia will grow into the guidance role once Splinter's...passed. Whenever that day may be. They're good for one another.

Anyways.

HUGH. This is the start to a grueling point in his life. He will be tested...

Next is Chapter 18: Sideshow! Why not leave a review in the meantime? :D