Burning

Splinter's hands are shaking.

Michelangelo is resting now - too still, too silent, but truly resting and out of danger. The entire family is gathered in Michelangelo's room. Aside from the expected weariness and bruising after a hard fight, Leonardo is all right save for a sore shoulder. A trio of red furrows are carved in Donatello's left arm, courtesy of the tiger's claws, and Leonardo is tending to them. Raphael has refused to leave Michelangelo's side since carrying him into the lair, and barely acknowledges it as Splinter checked him over for injuries. Fortunately, this most obstinate son of his appears to be unhurt.

And Miwa - Karai - has been stolen from Splinter once again. He folds his hands in his lap to hide the tremors, turning his attention to the leader of his sons. "Leonardo." Even though he speaks softly, Leonardo and Donatello jump a little, startled by the unexpected sound of his voice. "Tell me what happened tonight."

Leonardo tells him.

Splinter listens calmly, without comment. Leonardo meets his gaze and does not look away as he relates the details of the fight with Tiger Claw, and in spite of his worry for Michelangelo and his fear for Karai, Splinter is proud of his sons for how they have fought.

Splinter twitches a tufted ear as Raphael utters a low growl and lurches to his feet, moving swiftly past his father to the main room. Leonardo falters in his tale, looking after his brother with uncertain eyes, but Splinter merely nods at him to continue. Leonardo takes a short breath and goes on to tell his father how Tiger Claw managed to capture Karai.

"We couldn't do anything to stop him," he says finally. "If we'd tried anything, he would have killed her. I - I wanted to go after him after he'd taken her, but Mikey was hurt and…" He swallows hard. "I had to choose, Sensei. I chose Mikey." He does not say And I''d make the same choice again, but Splinter sees it in his eyes all the same.

"You have done well, Leonardo," he says. "You could not have chosen any differently." He can hear the familiar sound of Raphael striking at the practice dummy, but he rises without haste to cross over to Leonardo and Donatello, deliberately steadying his hands before placing one on each of his sons' shoulders. "You fought well against a formidable enemy. Michelangelo is wounded, but he will recover...and we will free Karai from the Shredder."

"What happens when we do?" Donatello asks in a small voice.

"That will be up to her," Splinter replies He gently squeezes his sons' shoulders. "Stay with Michelangelo. I will go talk to Raphael." As he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, Leonardo sits on the edge of the bed and enfolds Michelangelo's hand between both of his own.

Raphael is a flurry of movement. He is not striking with his usual accuracy - the swinging dummy moves erratically and Splinter can see more than one blow miss the mark entirely. As Splinter watches, Raphael's fist misses again. He stumbles forward, snarling furiously.

"Raphael!"

Splinter's sharp call pulls him up short. Raphael wheels around, halting in place, but still fuming. His fists are clenched at his sides and he is panting for breath through gritted teeth. He is angry and he is worried - and, worst of all, Splinter can see the ache of betrayal in his expressive eyes. But the burning anger is the strongest emotion by far, and Splinter understands. The coal of rage has been smoldering within his own chest since his battered sons returned home; and, although no one would ever guess it, Raphael is the son who is most like Splinter in disposition and temper. Splinter has merely had a fifteen-year head start on his son in learning to master himself...and he knows that this type of fury cannot be washed away like a river over stone.

"Raphael. Come with me," he says sternly.

Raphael's only reply is to darken his scowl further, but he does not argue. He follows Splinter to the dojo and stands rigid on the worn rugs, waiting angrily but silently for his father to speak.

Splinter crosses over to the weapons locker and removes a pair of sai, turning back to Raphael and raising the weapons defensively. "Hajime."

Raphael needs no further urging. He crouches and springs, drawing his sai as he flies forward. He crashes into Splinter with a metallic clash, spinning and lashing out with his own sai. Splinter absorbs the blow and strikes out in return, but remains on the defensive, blocking and striking as Raphael attacks.

"I told him!" Raphael snarls. "I told him we couldn't trust her!" None of his blows are missing now. Splinter can feel the impact rattling deep in his bones as his hurricane of a son fights out his rage. "I told him, and now…!" His wrath chokes him and all he can do is fight. Splinter ducks under a wild swing and kicks him back, forcing him to defend himself - but not for long. Raphael bares his teeth and launches forward once more. Father and son spar in a wild circle around the dojo, the tree and the rugs and the weapons a blur of color and light at the edges of their vision; at first, Raphael attacks fiercely and silently, and the only sound is the violent metal-on-metal as their sai strike together. But after a while, his growls and grunts of effort punctuate the silence.

Splinter sees it coming - one moment, Raphael is lashing out at him with all his fury behind him, and the next he has collapsed on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Splinter steps back, breathing heavily as well. Sweat soaks the fur around his ears, and his forearms ache from the intensity of Raphael's blows. He sets aside his weapons and sits beside his son. The folds of his robe are hot and confining, and he shrugs out of the sleeves to let the top half of the garment drape about his waist.

Raphael is trembling and dripping with sweat, still on his hands and knees, exhausted and unable to rise. Splinter grips him by the shoulders and rights him, helping him to sit. Raphael doesn't resist as Splinter pries the sai free of his white-knuckled grip. And he doesn't resist when Splinter lays an arm around his shoulders and pulls him over to lean against his side. .

Raphael lays his head on his father's shoulder. "I told him." All the fight is gone from his voice.

"Yes," Splinter says softly.

"I was right."

"Yes," he says again.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Sensei."

Splinter hears the shame in Raphael's voice, and he knows why. Raphael cannot see Splinter's daughter as anything but an enemy. "You owe me no apology, my son. I understand how you feel. But if Leonardo had not brought her here, she never would have had the chance to learn the truth."

Raphael tenses, pulling back a bit. "You're glad she came?"

Splinter can hear the disbelief in his voice and can see the sense of betrayal rising up once more. "Yes," he answers. "...and no. She should not have been brought here, but if she had not come, then she never would have believed the truth."

"I still don't trust her."

Splinter sighs sadly. "For now, that is probably for the best." He cups Raphael's chin in his hand, lifting his head to look into his eyes. "Raphael. Can you still trust Leonardo's judgement?"

Raphael is silent for several long minutes. When he finally speaks, his face is troubled, but his eyes are clear and honest and he meets his father's gaze unblinkingly. "Yes."

Splinter's breath drains out of his chest in a long sigh. "I am glad to hear it."

"She knows where we live," Raphael says in a low voice. "...Do we have to move?"

"I do not believe she will betray our location, but...that remains to be seen. For now, all we can do is wait. But know this, my son," he adds, looking intently into Raphael's eyes, "Whatever these coming days may bring, whatever Karai chooses to believe about herself, I will never leave you."

Raphael says nothing, but presses closer against the sleek fur of Splinter's shoulder. His body is lax but his eyes remain open and alert. Splinter holds him until his breathing settles and the tremors from his exertion have stilled.

Raphael finally takes a deep breath. "I think I should talk to Leo."

Splinter pats his shoulder and gives him a spare, proud smile. He settles his robe around his shoulders once again and rises, extending a hand to his son to help him to his feet. The look Raphael gives him in return isn't exactly a smile, but his expression is peaceful - as peaceful as he gets, at least - and the heat of his anger has cooled. Splinter watches him as he goes. Although there have been times that Raphael's temper has caused more harm than good, more often than not over the past two years, it has been a source of strength that has allowed him to fight and protect those he loves. Ah, my son. You have grown so much over these past two years. I know what it is to be caught in the rage, but you are getting stronger. The flames will not get the better of you.