Heyo all. I have been super busy recently (third year of university comes with a heck of a lot of work, who knew?!). Anywho, here's an update for everybody who is still bearing with me and this story. I knew it's a bit shorter than others, and for my excuse I refer you to my first sentence. Oh, also I've introduced my o/c in this chapter, not sure what's gunna happen with them yet, so that'll be interesting to explore. In conclusion, enjoy and please R&R.

Everdream24

Disclaimer: I do not own them, much to my chagrin

Chapter 12: Fathers and Sons

Sometimes Splinter despised his life in the sewers beneath New York. Not because of the constant smell (at first April had attempted to freshen the air with a multitude of different sprays and diffusers, but to no avail), or because of the complete lack of sunlight (the family got through so many candles that Splinter often wondered whether the frequency at which April purchased them drew any undue attention). No, the aspect that Splinter hated about sewer dwelling was having to scavenge for anything that could not be purchased in the nearest convenience store or supermarket by their generous human friends, such as the copious amounts of medical equipment now attached to his oldest son. Whatever they managed to salvage from the various junk yards and scrap heaps scattered around New York was often faulty and in such a desperate state of disrepair that Splinter was always incredibly impressed and proud whenever Donatello managed to put it back together again. Of course, Donatello was not infallible, and although the equipment that he had wheeled out and placed next to Leonardo's cot was in a state that could possibly be described as almost-good-as-new, they had soon discovered a rather frightening flaw. The first time the heartbeat monitor had let out the all too familiar monotone lengthy note, every single member of the family had raced as fast as they could to Leo's bedside, fearing the worst. By the fourth such occasion, Donatello had sustained a foot injury after furiously kicking the machine, perhaps attempting to jog the loose wire back into place. Still, they could not afford to ignore the noises it made, even if it did reverberate around Splinter's skull, furthering his pounding headache. What if they should do so, and there wasn't a fault? If they were to ignore its call, and his son should die because of it… it was too horrible to contemplate.

The aged rat was sat in a battered old lime green armchair at his son's bedside. He'd sent his son's to bed, which was no easy task by any means. Each one had argued to stay of course, their voices mingling and overriding each other for his attention. Over the years, though, he had perfected his 'end of discussion' look, and had eventually been left alone with his unconscious son and the unfeeling machines that were supposed to reassure Splinter his son was still in the land of the living. It had been a selfish act really. Splinter was in a bad shape, he was aware of that, every small movement hurt and each light seemed excessively bright, each small noise like a sledgehammer inside his head. Logically, he should have let his son's attend to Leonardo whilst he rested, but he could not currently bear to let his oldest out of his sight. Ignoring the ache of his muscles and the pull of his wounds, Splinter raised a warm furry hand and laid it on top of his son's ice cold one. Although Splinted knew that a prerequisite of their life was to often be put in incredible danger, he had foolishly never allowed himself to think about situations just like this one.

Suddenly he became aware of a presence standing in the doorway to the lab. Pain, fatigue and grief were dulling his senses, but he still knew who was lingering at the door without needing to turn to look.

"Come in my son"

When there was no movement, Splinter turned to face the presence standing in the doorway. Even in the low light, Splinter could see his sons eyes were bloodshot and shone with unshed tears. Although Raphael had clearly disobeyed his father's orders, Splinter felt no anger towards his son. He didn't think he would, even if he had the energy for such an emotion. As if reading Splinter's mind, his second eldest spoke again.

"Sorry Sensei. I tried, but I just couldn't sleep. Not knowin Leo was down here like…" He trailed off, leaning heavily on the old doorframe as if his own feet could no longer support him without assistance. Raphael's unfocused eyes rested on his prone brother, and though his face showed little change, there was a distinctive hitch in his chest as he inhaled.

Summoning what little strength remained, Splinter held out a hand towards his son. Raphael's gaze slowly turned to look at his fathers outstretched palm, and hesistated for a few moments, as if weighing up the benefits of his father's comfort against the potential damage it could do to his 'tough guy' persona he worked so hard to maintain.

"Take my hand, Raphael. We will sit vigil for Leonardo together tonight."

He saw Raphael swallow hard, and felt the temperature difference between them as Raphael placed his cool hand in his. In any other circumstance, on any other day, it would have looked bizarre. Raphael's hand was much larger than Splinter's and nearly completely engulfed it, but today this was a father holding the hand of his frightened, exhausted and grief stricken son, protecting him from further hardship. Raphael slumped down at his father's feet without another word, a sign that displayed just how much the red banded turtle was not himself. Splinter rested his hand on his son's slumped shoulder, hoping the tactile display would convey reassurance and safety. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, the rhythmic beeping from the heart monitor providing regular reassurance. Splinter only realised that his eyes had drifted shut when he was jolted back to reality by a small voice in close proximity to him.

"Why can't we just get along?" Raphael paused, but Splinter said nothing, giving his extremely private son time to think, and carry on of his own volition should he wish to. Eventually, he spoke once more. "Even when we were little kids, playing tag in the sewer tunnels, we always butted heads. I wanted to be leader, but then I'd charge off and mess up somehow an' old fearless here would have to come rescue us. He was so good at leading…and I hated him for that. It always came naturally to him, but me…? I'd never have what it takes. Recently I've come to realise that the reason he's such a good leader is because he thinks of everything, and I mean everything, all the time and he never seems to get tired of it, or frustrated. This leadership thing is exhausting Splinter, and I've only been doing it a few weeks, let alone years! You'd think I'd learn, wouldn't ya? But I don't. This-" He gestured angrily with his hand towards the body on the medical cot "has happened way too many times Sensei. I do something stupid and hot-headed, fearless has to come save me or us or whoever I've put in danger, then there's an argument, I say something completely bone-headed and he ends up paying the price! I mean how is that fair? It should be me lying there, not him. I mean, look how close he came to…he could've… because of me. What if, next time, we don't get there in time? Shell, what if there's a next time? I promise to change, to treat him better but sooner or later we'll be back at each other's throats."

Splinter had listened intently, allowing his son to bear his soul and all the worries that had been weighing so heavily upon it. Sometimes the best path to recovery was simply to listen.

"Dad…" the term was unusually familiar for Raphael, or any of his son's for that matter. It was usually 'father' or 'sensei'. It displayed to Splinter even further the depth of his son's despair. "What do I do? How do I change who I am?" Although Splinter could not see his son's face, he knew that he had lost the fight to suppress his grief.

Splinter breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the not-so-fresh sewer air. He collected his thoughts while he held his breath, then slowly and gently exhaled, feeling the meditative technique calm him.

"My son" he began "you and Leonardo are like two sides of the same coin: inseparable, nearly identical but always facing in opposite directions. It is never easy to see past one's differences to the similarities that tie us together, but beneath the tough exterior you try so hard to project, lies a gentle soul who cares deeply for his family. So does Leonardo. He would place himself, his life, in danger to protect us and I know that you would do the same without question." Splinter knew that Raphael would never allow anyone to see his face whilst he was at his most vulnerable, and so instead turned his gaze from the back of his sons head to the too-still form of his oldest son. "The reason you cannot get along with your brother is that you are so very similar. Like polar magnets, you are tied to one another, but can never work together in the same direction." Splinter's heart sank as he saw his son curl up, drawing his knees to his chest.

"However" Splinter stressed "I firmly believe that your brother would not wish you to change in any way. What has happened here is not your fault, Raphael, and your brother will know that as well as I do. In our life, there is a lot of stress and emotions can run high. Words are sometimes said in anger, and usually later regretted. In an ideal world, Leonardo would have left and returned calm and collected, but that was prevented from happening. By Shredder. He is responsible for the way we must live, he is responsible for the state in which your brother is currently in, not you, and when he wakes, Leonardo will tell you the same thing. Your brother loves you Raphael, and he would gladly give his life for any of his brothers. Whether you want it or not, Leonardo protects you and cares deeply for you. He knew what may be necessary when he accepted the position of leader, he knew that it may create difficulties between you. Raphael-" he paused, and waited stubbornly until the red banded turtle half turned his head. Splinter still couldn't see his sons face, but he knew he had his complete and undivided attention. "You and Leonardo are brothers. There is an unspoken and most precious bond between you. I know you will make this right."

Casey hated the way they were looking at him. Of course they were trying to be subtle about it, but he could feel their furtive glances in his direction, and in his periphery he could see them all whispering urgently between themselves. They thought he did it. When he'd rushed into the hospital's A & E department, clasping a barely living April O'Neil in his trembling arms, he'd told the nurses that they had been mugged in the street by thugs. He'd spieled out a story about how the perpetrators had mercilessly gone after the red head whilst pinning Casey down with sheer mass and beating the snot out of him. He told them how they'd both fought admirably, being merely civilians, but in the end they had been defeated. Regrettably, there was quite a lot of truth to his lie; the Foot had used sheer numbers to wear down their opponents, had fought with malice, anger and without honour, and had managed to take down Splinter and April, two of the people who lay at the heart of the turtles family. Casey didn't much care for lies, they created a deep seated feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't very well turn up at A & E and say:

"I need help! We've just been in a HUGE fight in a warehouse with a load of ninja warriors all dressed in Black, and a crazy evil ninja master who wears a shiny metal suit and calls himself 'The Shredder'. April and I, alongside a giant humanoid mutant rat and an even bigger humanoid mutant reptile fought against them, but we were outnumbered. Until, you know, the good ninja showed up and helped us. April got hurt real bad by the metal man because we were all busy distracting them and keepin' them away from his evil tower where three mutated humanoid turtle siblings , who also happen to know ninjitsu, were rescuing their kidnapped brother from Shredder's evil clutches."

Yeah, that wouldn't make them think he was loco.

Another reason that he didn't like lying was that he wasn't particularly gifted at doing it. In hindsight he supposed someone who had just been mugged might be a bit more upset and shaken than Casey, who had become accustomed to the violence of fights and injuries they inflicted. Although the nurse had immediately nodded her head and shouted for aid, her eyes still betrayed a lingering doubt as they flicked between the flourishing bruises on April's neck, and Casey's large calloused hands as if trying to match the two. He had been angry at first that anyone could think that he would hurt April, but then he realised that they probably saw enough cases of horrible domestic violence in here to make them mistrust any large muscular man who walked in with an injured woman, or any man for that matter. Casey would never understand it, that need for power and control over the ability to hurt someone who couldn't defend themselves and had done nothing to deserve such treatment.

It was this that Casey was pondering as he sat alone in a faded old chair in the waiting area. Doctors and nurses bustled about him, their white coats and tunics rustling as they made their rounds. There was a faint chorus of beeping sounds from heart monitors as they kept tabs on their patients, the steady rhythm seeping under the closed doors around him. At a nearby nurses station the phone rang often, the first time Casey had jumped, wondering who could possibly be calling at this time of night, but now he ignored it entirely, it's shrill ring barely registering in his mind. He'd been sat in the same position, staring at the same black spot on the floor for some time now, he had no idea how long. They hadn't let him go with April, despite his protests, as he was not a family member. Which meant that she must be all alone now, with no one to hold her hand, as she didn't have any family left in New York. Not that he knew of anyway. He wasn't sure if he'd ever asked. All he wanted now in the world was to sit by her bedside and hold her hand, reassuring himself that she was still here and things were going to be ok. Well that and sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had ached so much.

He let his head drop and rested it in his hands, rubbing them over his face and letting a deep breath slowly escape through his lips.

"You look terrible." A soft female voice spoke from above him. It took Casey several seconds to realise that the comment had been directed at him, and he lifted his head, taking in her attire as he did so. The green hospital crocks looked green, and well-worn and her turquoise scrubs had a few faded stains whose origins Casey didn't want to even begin to guess at. She was pretty, though Casey thought she looked as exhausted as he felt. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she had an assortment of pens and pencils sticking out of it. As she stood before him, another nurse passed behind her clutching a clipboard and extracted a ball point pen from the collection as she passed. The nurse just smiled and shouted a comment at her colleagues back about returning the pen, as if she didn't care that she was being used as some sort of walking stationary set. It was a comical thing to witness, but was treated like an everyday event, and this, Casey supposed, doubled with the stress and fatigue is what made him burst out laughing.

The nurse raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly to the side. "well, I was going to offer you coffee, but now I'm not convinced it's a good idea. Probably just as well" she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially "it's terrible". She straightened up and smiled at him. She studied him for a few moments, and then stuck out a hand "I'm Leia" she announced.

Casey gazed at the extended hand, and found himself involuntarily returning the smile. He gladly shook her hand, and marvelled at how she could still be so chipper after what had obviously been a lengthy shift. "Casey… Casey Jones. Very nice to meet you."

A/N I really hope that no one has been offended or affected by the issues that I've written about here. If so, I sincerely apologise.