A/N: Two chapters this week. Why? Because I want to.

WOLF - Chocolate is miracle medicine. In fact, I think I want some now.

Sciencegal - Kids, right? Adorable. Unless they're Cleo. ;)

Now, enjoy a Nia centered chapter. :)

Chapter 19: Causes

New York's news always managed to piss Gavin off, yet he couldn't stop watching. In addition to informing him about Bishop's moves, it doubled as a distraction while Nia gathered her things into a duffle bag.

Beside him in their bed, Mia slept soundly. How? He didn't know. She was propped up in a seated position with her head lolled back so far, she snored. This was the sound Nia disturbed.

"I'm heading for work, Daddy."

He wasn't surprised by the lack of feeling in her tone, and replied just as listlessly, "Will you return?"

There was a pause then a sigh. "In a few days. Mama needed me because you stayed at work overnight—"

"Otherwise you wouldn't have come?" He still couldn't face her, his narrowed gaze fixed on May Field's joyous expression.

"Daddy—"

"You have a new family; I understand."

"No, you don't." The young woman shifted in Gavin's peripheral vision, stalking towards the foot of the king-size bed so her body blocked the television on the dresser. She meet Gavin's gaze with an impassive stare that riled pins and needles through her father and shook her head. "How many times must we go through this?" she asked in a small voice. "H—how many times do I have to say there doesn't need to be a distinction? We could be one family. We should be. But you won't have it."

"It isn't right," Gavin retorted.

"Why? Because of their…specialties?"

The redhead straightened in bed. "What has knowing them done for you? How many scars have you gained or nightmares have you waken from? Their kind can only bring badness, Nia."

"But they aren't bad."

"I acknowledge that."

Nia froze. Perhaps she had assumed he didn't approve of them as individuals. Or maybe she thought he hated them—especially Raphael—for having torn down the walls he'd helped her build around herself. Those were only partly truth, and the real reason roused heat in his blood.

"I admit: Bishop's discovery of you was my fault in some ways," Gavin continued. "I should've kept everything off the grid, no matter how hard. And the Hamatos did reunite us. But you could've left it as that. You had a chance to return to a normal life and—"

"I'm not normal, Daddy," Nia interjected near a hiss. She swallowed hard and gestured strongly with her hand. "I never have been, and never will be. I—I'm not all human."

"Don't say such things."

"It's the truth! I'm a…a Halfling. And it wasn't until I came to terms with the fact that my chronic pain stopped."

"How long did the break last? Seems whether or not you accept the fact doesn't matter."

"That's because"—Nia's vision dropped, like her shoulders—"my Anemia…"

Gavin drew in a noisy breath so it caught his daughter's attention, yet he barely held it. "You're wasting blood. Stabilizing the IgRs is virtually impossible. I spent years studying them and know one thing for sure: without access to biological records of your"—he hesitated—"Languu heritage, fractionation will always follow."

"It's been done before."

"By whom? Bishop. And he obviously knows more about where you came from than any of us."

"Th—there was Lombardo, too."

While Nia's croak hurt, Gavin remained steady. "There's no point. Why give blood to a useless cause? After months, Donatello and his friends remain empty-handed. Meanwhile, Splinter's decaying. Your focus should be elsewhere."

"Like where?"

"A place where you can actually make a difference. Like at your mother's side."

The slowness of Nia's shaking head spoke volumes. Disbelief, loathing, and hurt fueled the action, stealing her breath until they left her in tears. "I can make a difference," she whispered—an action barely heard over May Field's chatter. "Just like he did for me. I—I don't care if you don't believe. I do. So I'll give everything of myself if there's a chance of saving him."

"Nia." Gavin removed his glasses because he was unable to stand the condensation on their lenses from his labored breath. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he spoke downward rather than frontward. "Be realistic. You can't keep pushing your body like you have been. Understand your limits and just…support."

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

What use would there be in arguing any further? By the time Gavin cleaned then resettled his round spectacles on his face, Nia had already shouldered her overnight pack and headed for the bedroom door. She retained enough mind of Mia's slumber not to slam it, though Gavin felt the faint click was more impactful than anything else.

He stared at the door, heaving before a gentle touch against his neck twisted it around. "Mia?" He blinked when the brunette drew back her shaky hand. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long…enough," the woman replied, hoarse. She dotted the side of her drooling mouth with a used napkin, silencing her husband as her brown eyes zeroed in on his frown. "G—Gav…is this how you've been treating her?"

"Don't worry."

"I'm a mother. How can I not?"

"Concentrate on healing, Mi."

"Wh—what's gotten into you? Why are you…acting like this?"

"I said it's nothing."

"It's hardly 'nothing' if your own daughter won't say goodbye!"

"Heart rate, Mia," Gavin chided. He sent a quick glance towards the electrocardiogram set-up to monitor Mia's sleep, though its rising blood pressure and distressed cardiac cycles meant he shouldn't have done so.

"I'll be concerned with my heart when you tell me what's happened to yours."

If his stern looks were as effective on his wife as they were on his child, he would've maintained one until the brunette backed down. However, half a year had apparently buried memories of her counter glares, whose power prodded his chest like red-hot iron.

"You have the two of us, Gavin. Yet you're still so angry."

"And there's no justification for that, is there?" Shifting under the comforter, the redhead crossed his ankles and leaned against the headboard with no concern for his sudden Irish relapse. "The mentaller who tortured me, put me wife in a coma, and experimented on me daughter is being held as a city hero. The life I worked tooth and nail for was ripped from me hands. Then me only child wants to replace me with a bale of chancers. Yer right: it's a wonder I'm not singing praise."

Silence.

"Hey," Mia said softly. Her bony hand reached for her husband, but he didn't have the nerve to endure its trembling. "Classic, Gavin," she added when he retracted his arm, "always looking on the dark side. I know you strived hard for your Anders identity. I helped, remember? But…the important things you gained during it remain with you. Isn't that enough?"

"The three of us were enough. Nia won't settle for that anymore."

"She has friends."

"Friends who drag her into danger."

"I'm sure that's not true."

Narrowed, Gavin's eyes landed on his wife. "How would you know? You spent six months in a coma."

The happy lines around Mia's mouth deepened with her scowl, but that was unsurprising. He'd overstepped a well-known line, and when the short-haired brunette cleared her face of more saliva, the redhead glanced downwards.

"Sorry, Mi," he said in an undertone.

"I would gain back those months," Mia paused to slurp, "if possible."

"You don't want them. Trust me."

"If it meant I could understand more of where you're coming from"—another pause—"I'd go through everything you did."

She meant every word, and it required all of Gavin's energy to keep his fingers strong as they raised and traced her jawline. Her muscles tightened below his touch, so he lowered his hand before they both succumbed to tears.

"It's not the life I pictured," he said while clenching the comforter. "Not for her or me or you. We were doing fine before September."

"Life changes, Gav."

"Sometimes, for the worse. Since when were we not enough? Sh—she's running."

"Even if she was…think of what she's running towards."

"They'll only harm her in the end."

"Why would you say that?

"Because their kind is self-preserving. Secret families are like that. I know; I came from the Doyles. And the one time Keelan and I trusted outsiders…"

"Gav—"

"No! I'm more capable than the Hamatos realize and the job they want is mine. She's ours, not theirs. Even if she's too blinded by infatuation to see straight."

Mai remained quiet for a long moment. It was hard to tell from the brunette's expression if she wanted to cry or scream, but she gaped in surprise, words soft, "Do you know who you sound like?"

Of course he did; the strong Irish drawl invaded his mind before he could snarl at its insulting memory. 'Ya banjaxed eejit! For feck's sake, ya belong to this sept. Act it!'

"This is different," Gavin whispered, throat tight.

"Not by much. Instead of seeking a suicide help line, Nia's running to another source who understands her."

"We understand her."

"Maybe we don't understand as much as we thought."

Mia reached for her husband across the bed. He caught her hand before it found his arm then took the napkin from her grasp so he could dab the defined lines around her parted lips. Tenderly, his thumb traced the chapped, pink skin and he studied them to keep himself free of the brunette's imploring stare.

"I'm sorry, Mia," he whispered. "It's dangerous with them. So I won't give up without a fight…even if I must turn into me Ole Man."

Nia didn't care who noticed her stress—not pedestrians, not the grocery clerk from lunch, or coworkers. Had Mellissa Heart been there to greet her at Warner-Frost's front desk, she likely would've blown the computer's circuits in unsaid retaliation. Since the receptionist was absent, the artist passed the posh lobby and headed straight for the staircase leading to the basement.

She'd repeated one line in her mind since leaving Columbus Square, and it motivated her as her green Converse stomped down one step after another. 'I can help. Berry, Rose, Splinter—I can do something for them all.'

Why would her father say those things? Did he really think she was that helpless?

'No, Mama's said it's more than that. But if he doesn't explain, how am I supposed to understand?' Sighing, Nia reached the stair base, eyes set on the dirty concrete below. 'Hard to believe they both have such rich histories…and never talk about them…'

"Just die already, you ugly thing!"

A feminine voice—like sharp blades—cut into Nia, jerking her whole body sideways. She caught her balance with one foot, attention darting across the open basement. Her gaze spotted movement beyond the broken vanity Rose and Berry favored. For a moment, she feared the kids had been caught by a worker. But the noises were wrong.

Instead of grunts or whimpers, squealing sounded. Like a pig almost, yet with a strange lower ring through the cry. Nia couldn't deny the clear sense of distress, regardless of her confusion, and as the worker raised a splintered broom for another swing, the young woman strode forward.

"M—Miss Heart, what are you doing?" she asked the dark-haired beauty standing on top of a cardboard box.

Heart flipped her disarrayed hair over her hunched shoulder and gripped the broom tighter in her unsteady grasp. "I came down to this dust-infested place to find some old files, and this—this thing attacked me."

"What thing?" Nia conquered another box pile then paused by the vanity that rattled.

"Coleman said he thought something was living down here, though I never thought it would be something like this."

Nia's brows drew close while she rounded the vanity. Then, her eyes widened.

Nestled in a tall corner was a creature she'd never seen before. Its size matched that of a Pomeranian with leathery skin and a pop belly that heaved in and out with panic under an armadillo-like shell. In ways it resembled a fat fish since its overbite of piranha teeth gave its head a gentle slope, although its short, cleft feet were clearly pig. Their hoofs scraped against the concrete as he squealed again, pushing himself further against the vanity to avoid another swing from Heart's broom.

"What are you doing?" Nia cried.

"What do you think?" Heart countered with a snarl. "Killing it!"

"Why?"

"It bit me."

"Where?"

The woman snorted then twisted her right leg to showcase her calf, which bled from six deep puncture wounds through her sheer stockings.

Nia cringed at the sight, yet Heart's subsequent swing left little room for pity. "It's just scared," the artist insisted, parrying the broom handle with her arm.

"Something like that is a disgrace." Heart jumped down from the box, heels clicking loudly. Her right leg nearly gave in under the impact, but she maintained her posture and shoved Nia so hard into an alley of old beds that a stray spring cut across her bicep.

The young woman hissed at the burn then struggled to sit up in a pillow pile while meeting Heart's narrowed blue eyes. "Is killing it the only option?"

"Have you seen it?" The beauty made a disgusted face. "It's an abomination."

"How so?"

"It unnatural."

Nia felt her gaze turn stony, like every inch of her from the inside out stiffened. She no longer cared about holding her tongue—not when Heart jeered at the little creature like her father often did with Raphael. "What does that have to do with anything, Miss Heart? It's alive."

The receptionist probed it with the blunt end of the broom, as if expecting it to lunge. "Animals are killed all the time, Brown. For food, sport, clothes, or simply because they're a pest. Think about it, no one goes to lengths to save a spider."

"I do."

The woman whipped her hair back again, shaking her head under Nia's hard stare. "Don't exaggerate, girl. Point is: there've been sightings of beasts all over the city. This must be one of those gross mutant threats Bishop's mentioned. Maybe if I kill it, I'll gain some leeway with my application."

"Wait"—Nia stumbled to her knees—"you applied for the EPF?"

"Yes. So I'm going to start with this!"

"Don't!"

Nia lunged forward. Her arms wrapped around Heart's legs, stretching her stockings, and the resulting imbalance forced the woman to stumble over Nia. Her weight hit like an anvil against the younger female's back, the broom jabbing Nia's side when Heart failed to stay upright with it as a brace. They met the ground in seconds, causing Nia to bit her tongue as Heart's knee forced it down.

"What's wrong with you, Brown?" the receptionist spat while rising to her heels.

Nia was silent when she did likewise, holding her tender side and grimacing at the metallic taste in her mouth. Their gazes connected like magnets—strong and hard to break when her teal eyes sought the creature.

"You've been nothing except trouble," Heart continued, snide. "Irma only has a soft spot for you because of your history. Otherwise, you wouldn't have enough credentials to work in this establishment."

"Excuse me?"

"Then again, it's not like art's real work. Our old pictures did just as well. Yet here you are, taking valued funding with a useless cause."

"My causes aren't useless!" Nia cried before she could rein in the lights or realize Gavin wasn't present.

"I only mentioned one," Heart countered.

Nia glanced away once the receptionist picked up the broom. Her lips puckered with their tremble, and forcing air through her nose felt more difficult than meeting Heart's gaze again.

"I'll find Coleman to get a cage," Heart noted before shoving the broom towards Nia. "Think you can handle keeping it in one spot?"

The artist stayed silent. She didn't nod or back down, but Heart's rolling eyes proved her disinterest. The receptionst huffed then gimped towards the staircase. Only when her heels faded upstairs did Nia move.

She tossed the broom away then knelt before the alley so she could look closer at the creature. It wheezed against the vanity's scarred drawer, its hooves tapping in beat with its shivers. She longed to pet it, although the moment she twitched the fat creature burst into a startling squeal.

"Hey," she called, troubled by the pure fear in her mind. "It's okay. I—I'm not like that lady. I won't hurt you. Promise."

The little beast quieted. Either because she spoke softly or because he was losing energy. One thing was certain, though: they were running out of time.

"I can help," Nia added as she shifted. "I'll take you somewhere you'll be safe. But you have to come with me."

Gradually, the creature's breathing slowed. He craned his head sideways like chickens did for a better view, and she smiled into the blackness of its eye. Its shape was that of an almond set deep beneath textured scales and wrinkles. The iris and pupil were impossible to distinguish, so Nia's only clue of its gaze was a feeling, which cause her to smile.

"Come on, y—you'll like us. Honest. You just gotta take that first step."

The beast flared its slit-like nostrils, baring the sharp teeth that protruded from its overbite.

"Please," Nia whispered. She dared reach towards him, slow. But when commotion sounded upstairs, she scooted closer. "If you don't come now, they'll kill you. I don't want that. Do you?"

With a snort, the creature eased his growl. His head tiled more, perhaps adjusting to the new angle. Then he stood. His round form trembled, his balance impaired, yet he approached Nia with minimal hesitation. And so she wrapped her arms around the being's grooved armor as soon as her fingers met his humped back.

A/N: Gah, Gavin. So frustrating. Complain that he's a stale character, but it's all by design. Trust me. His process is just slower than the others...

And now Nia has a new friend. Blame Duckie for that; she helped inspire me. LOL

Next up is "Reboot". Meanwhile, reviews make my day. ;)