[Fanfic] The Heavenly Cradle

[ZariusTwo]

(takes place during "Adventures In Turtle-Sitting")

12: 55 PM. Almost an hour past the afternoon rush.

The time for sleep ought to be done. Finished.

For three small Turtle Tykes, it was well past due to kip. It had been a busy morning.

Argumentative scraps in the laid, skateboarding, being chased by Shredder's Mutant thugs.

All too much for a tyke to tackle. Now they would slumber and party as soon as they stirred.

The remainder of this glorious day awaited them.

Michelangelo and April watched them sleep.

In the beginning, there was this idea, there's these group of heroes who can escape from anything, throw any challenge their way and they can elude it.

So what happens when you want to escape life?

No, that isn't impossibility, frighteningly enough.

Some people go through it just staring at the peaceful state of what had earlier been pure chaos in infant form.

Let than sink in.

Some parents go through it

Their children push them to that.

Their. Children.

This was much too heavy for Mikey to process, he always found himself drifting, this kind of responsibility was tailored more for a born leader like Leonardo, or a meticulous mind like Donatello. Raphael could even be the snarky, yet playful uncle and make sure it was safe to take a few risks.

All three of them would have sufficed.

It was all three of them that needed care and attention.

All three of them, settled and nested in April O'Neil's apartment, were pushing him to his limits.

He wondered if April had similar thoughts as she rested beside him.

After all, she was human. Humans have patience, humans run out of patience.

Why was he thinking these things?

Would he run out of patience?

Could he afford to?

Would he get through this or be forced to pull off the most miraculous and daring of escapes?

Some parents go through this.

They take a gander at their priceless gifts, sound and secure in their blankets and their beds, and they decide to return to the heavenly cradle.

As if any kind of haven would be inclusive for a coward like that.

Some parents go through this.

With their own children.

He wondered if Splinter had considered going through with it.

Dear god, what if he did?

God, he must have considered it.

He dared not; his morality would never drive him to such a dishonourable act.

What gets him through is his discipline, his patience. He will not be caged.

That is the lesson of the rat.

You will never be caged; the legacy of your honour will outlast every lingering echo and syllable of the spoken and written world in your lifetime.

The cage was the cradle, we are all born to serve it for only a short time, and then we spring loose, free.

The three turtle tykes resting in front of them would be inevitably restored to their normal ages, they would act with integrity, and they would fight with honour.

Michelangelo would join in, an equal, and perhaps now also, a proud 'parent'.

A great partner and aunt by his side in April, whose tolerance, understanding and patience had led the tykes here, to this home, to this cradle.

And here they would not be caged.

Some parents go through this too.