Turtles are not mine. Splinter is not mine. Nothing is mine, except for the angst of wanting a brother when younger.

Splinter, preoccupied with the ever-rising water of the tunnels, kept just enough attention on his sons to know that they were with him and not in danger. Other than that, all his hearing focused on was the sound of the amazingly powerful storm raging topside (now that they were closer to the surface, they could hear it with little trouble; indeed, they could sometimes see the flash-echoes of the lightning!), the steadily growing whoosh of the rushing water, and the hiss of impromptu waterfalls cascading into their underground world from the flooding streets above.

From the pipes and ceiling, gathering moisture seeped down cracks or ran down walls, falling on all three and chilling the turtles despite the protective covering of the rainwear.

"We gotta tell him," Leo said softly, even as he kept an eye out for possible trouble. He pulled his hated rain hood up because he was tired of the constant dripping on his head that managed to snake down the exact same path from his neck to those irritatingly unreachable places of his carapace. "Mikey needs to stop this now!"

"Leo, it's- it's kinda like- tattlin'," Raph objected. Mad as he got at his brothers, one thing he rarely did unless pushed to it by extreme anger or extreme concern was to be a tattletale. He shivered as the continuing drips from the roof increased into an almost rain-like fall, but stubbornly left his hood off. It made it hard to hear anything, and he always felt trapped in it.

In fact, he had to repeat what he had said to Leo because Leo couldn't hear with the hood up.

"No, it's not tattling if it keeps someone from getting hurt," Leo corrected, trying to keep his voice low but unconsciously raising it, due to the fact that he could barely hear it himself.

"It's not like he's gonna bleed, Leo! It's something that's gonna make him look and feel stupid- and he should! He's been actin' that way, he should feel it as well."

"I don't want him to be hurt! He's just- you know, confused."

"He's more than confused, he's outta his mind! Leo, he wants a SISTER! WE'RE not good enough for him! You know what he said last night? He said 'When Machi gets here, I won't have time for you guys, 'cause Splinter's gonna need someone who can take care of a baby to help him out.' Like he's got the experience to do such a thing! He thinks that he's the only one who can take care of Machi! I can take care of her just as well as he can!"

Leo pulled his hood down and stared hard at his brother. Raph, returning the stare, slowly realized what he'd just said.

"Aww, MAN! NOW he's got ME doin' it! Mikey is such a troublemaker!"

"He's not! He's just confused! We need to help him!"

"Why should we? He's being stupid on purpose! He KNOWS it's impossible! He just HAS to know!" Raph's voice rose enough to attract Splinter's attention. "I just can't believe a brother of mine could be so stupid-"

"Raphael, I have told you and told you I do not like that word!" Splinter, misunderstanding, turned and faced his sons. "Apologize to Leonardo at once!"

Both turtles stood there, briefly stunned.

"Sensei, he wasn't calling me stupid!" Leonardo assured Splinter.

"I wasn't calling Leo stupid!" Raphael swore at the exact same moment.

Splinter eyed the two carefully, but he could tell that they were being truthful. He turned, deciding to let it go.

Two turtles heaved a sigh of relief.

Then Raph blew it.

"I was callin' Mikey stupid 'cause he thinks-"

Too late, he clamped his hands over his big mouth. Splinter turned back to his son, very interested all of a sudden.

"Because he thinks what?"

The boys exchanged looks, oblivious to the now steady pouring of thin streams of water that fell around their heads.

"You two know why Michelangelo has been acting so... 'concerned' lately, do you not?"

Both barely nodded.

"What is it?"

Two voices refused to be heard. Leo wanted to tell Splinter so much, to let him know that his youngest was convinced that their father was having a baby- how hard could it be?

Just open your mouth and say "Mikey thinks you're pregnant, Father!" Just say it!

"Nothing, Sensei," he opted. "He's just- you know- um-"

A sudden roaring sound of rushing water distracted all three. Splinter and the two barely had time to scramble to the side and up on some pipes before a foamy gush of water, pushing a load of debris before it, came rushing through the tunnel. The trash and such must have created a temporary dam, and the force of the water building up had been strong enough to break it down.

Fortunately, the water did not reach them, nor remain high, and they were able to get down soon, though they were now wading through the remnants.

"Stay close, my sons," Splinter said, and he held out his tail for the two to hold on to as they made their careful way back towards home, taking care to stay directly behind Sensei so that they would not step off to the side and fall into the deeper channel, where they risked being swept away. "There will be no need to check further in that direction, but we must make sure that the debris does not create an even more powerful obstruction."

For awhile they walked close to the wall, the boys in waist-deep water, clinging to Splinter's tail tightly, resisting the urge to lift their feet and be dragged floating along like they did this past summer on a rare and wonderful trip to a small, secluded inlet along the river.

As they went the level steadily dropped and soon the sides were covered with just a thin surface of water, not even ankle deep; yet the two still held on to Father's tail, more for the security of being with a parent than fear of falling in.

At the other end, it was evident that the debris had been safely washed away, and there would be no need to worry tonight about being flooded out of their home. Splinter turned and the three, wet, shivering, and grateful that nothing need be done, headed towards home and dinner.

"I still think I should tell Splinter," Leo whispered to Raph, mind back on their brother now that their mission was at an end.

Raph shrugged, cold and longing for a hot bat.

"Do what you want. Personally, I'm tempted to wait until the surprise shower," he whispered back.

Back in the lair, Mikey had triple checked off "cake" on his party list and tried on every hat twice. He had even opened his precious noise makers and carefully blown into one just to celebrate privately the completion of his grand plans.

Now he came out of the room to check on the dinner as Splinter had ordered. He completely ignored Don's futile attempts to explain that "Rabbit Test" was a 1979 movie that was so bad it was rarely shown on TV unless someone committed some crime and needed to be punished, and made his happy way into the kitchen to peek inside the oven.

Looked good. Smelled good. He got down a can of carrots and made a face, but perhaps he should learn to like them. After all, he would have to feed Machi, and the one thing he remembered was Splinter's insistence on eating the mushy carrots because they were yummy to the tummy. He would make the effort so that his sister would learn to like the nasty, mushy, pukey old stuff and grow to be strong.

He opened the can, and placed them in a pan, setting it carefully on the stove as he'd been taught. Once again he felt the same stirring of pride in being the only one trusted to use the stove when Splinter was not home, and he imagined showing off this skill to his baby sister.

"Now, now, Machi-chan! Mustn't touch! HOT! HOT!" he heard himself saying to a very small baby toddling towards the dangerous flames! He pulled her back just in time. "Listen to Ani! No touch! No touch!"

"No touch! HOT!" he said aloud, startling himself at the sound of his own voice! Guiltily he looked around, wondering if Don had heard him talking! He should start setting the table instead of fooling around.

As he got the dishes and glasses out, he studied his turtle-covered one. Machi was going to need her own glass. He really was getting too big to drink out of this. His brothers had started drinking more and more out of the larger, plain glasses because they were "too old" for their baby glasses. Mikey, out of pure stubbornness, had continued to use his own, despite the fact that he had to refill it three times during meals because it was so small.

"I'll keep using it until Machi is old enough to drink out of it," he mused, and he got out the silverware and chopsticks.

He started to daydream again, as he went about this chore; he was teaching Machi how to set the table.

"Okay!" And Mikey watched as little sister carefully placed the knife, fork, spoon, and chopsticks in the correct positions around the plate as her Ani had showed her. Then she beamed up at him, waiting for his approval.

The timer sounding snapped Mikey out of his beautiful fantasy, and he quickly checked the progress. The potatoes were finished, but the chicken could do with a few more minutes. Mikey removed the potatoes and wrapped them carefully in a tea towel, set them in a bowl, and placed them near the stove to keep warm.

"We are home," Splinter called from the living room, and Mikey and Don rushed to greet them. "Please bring us some towels so we do not trail water all over the floor."

Don was quick to respond, and was back before Mikey could finish gathering their rainwear and hanging it in the usual place to dry. Soon Splinter, fur still damp, was in the bathroom with Leonardo and Raphael. They had just enough time to take a quick shower before dinner.

"I got dibs on the tub right after!" Raph said, disappointed that he had to eat before soaking his shivering self in the deep hot water.

"You always have dibs on the tub," Leo grumbled, making his way into his chair and waiting for dinner to be put on the table. For the moment, his plans to talk to Splinter were forgotten in the growling of his stomach.

The meal was for the most part silent, though Splinter had two shocks.

"You made carrots?" he said, surprised, as Mikey brought the bowl to the table.

"Yeah, well, I- I opened the can by mistake," Mikey responded.

The others didn't notice. They liked cooked carrots.

What got their attention was when their baby brother, the notorious cooked carrot hater, spooned some of them onto his own plate!

Four sets of eyes stared in disbelief as the youngest turtle speared one of his vegetable enemies on the end of his fork and, with barely a suppressed shudder, quickly put it in his mouth, chewed three quick chews, and gulped it down, closely followed by a mouthful of milk.

He realized he was being watched. He stared back at his family, puzzled.

"What? Can't a guy decide to eat cooked carrots?"

"Of- of course you can decide to- eat what you wish, my son," Splinter, recovering from the sight. He turned his attention to his own plate, but watched from the corner of his eye as Michelangelo speared yet another carrot as if he were stabbing at someone attacking him, popping it into his mouth, chewing, swallowing, drinking milk, and trying not to look like he was going to throw up. In three minutes he had gotten them all down, and now turned his happy attention to the rest of the meal.

Splinter wisely kept from commenting when Raph offered Mikey the bowl again.

"Sure you don't want seconds? 'Cause you sure at those firsts in a hurry," Raph could not help but tease.

"Nope, I've had enough," Mikey politely responded, trying to keep from making a face-even the smell had never appealed to him.

"Aww, come on, Mikey! You ate 'em so fast you probably didn't even taste them," Raph kept it up, pushing the bowl right up to his brother's plate. Mikey pushed it right back.

"Believe me, I tasted them all right," he muttered.

"That is enough, Raphael," Splinter said, and the older turtle, smirking, went about eating his own meal.

Nothing more was said. After dinner, Don and Mikey did the dishes in silence while first Raph, then Leo had their baths and dressed for bed. Then Don, and finally Mikey were bathed and dressed in warm pajamas.

"Since you are being punished and the others are not, you will have to go to your room now, my son," Splinter said. "The others may watch some television."

"Hai, Sensei," Mikey said without complaint, and pausing long enough to grab Mr. Growly off the couch, he cheerfully went into his room and closed the door.

This was almost a bigger surprise to Splinter than the eating of the hated carrots! Michelangelo normally pleaded on his knees to be allowed to watch "just one show! Just one minute of one show!" whenever he was grounded off of the TV.

Shaking his head, he sat on the couch, absently moving his son's notebook and sketchpad as the other three ranged themselves on the floor in preparation for watching "The Tale of Zatoichi"- one of Mikey's most favorite of all favorite Zatoichi films.

Not one protest came from the room! Splinter several times glanced quickly behind him as the movie played, thinking that he would catch his youngest sneaking into the room to watch from his usual hiding place (behind the couch), but nothing, nothing at all happened.

Splinter was at a loss, but a powerful yawn overtook him, reminding him how tired he was. He stretched a bone-popping stretch, and relaxed, putting all thoughts of his youngest son's strange behavior from his mind and just concentrating on the movie, laughing as his sons (who knew the film by heart) spoke the dialogue of the different characters, and cheered and offered helpful comments to the blind swordsman ("Behind you! Watch out!").

All too soon, the movie was over, and Splinter shooed his sleepy sons off to bed. Once everyone was tucked in, Splinter was able to take a long hot bath, washing away any remnants of the dirty runoff water that had escaped his earlier efforts to clean up.

In his room, he had just made himself comfortable, propped up in bed with a book, when a small sound came at his door.

"Enter."

Leonardo, hesitant, barely opened the door and slid into the room through the narrow crack, as if trying not to be seen by anyone other than his father. Then he stood there, not knowing how to start.

"Yes, my son? What is the matter?"

"Um... Father... what if you know something, and it's not something really bad, but it's something important, only not important like anyone might get hurt, but on the other hand they might get hurt, and you don't want to be a tattle tale, but you don't-"

"Is this about Michelangelo?"

Hesitation; then a forceful nod.

"Is it a secret that he asked you to keep?"

Determined shake of the head.

"Is this something that could wait until morning?"

"I don't know! That's the problem! Mikey is planning something because he thinks something is going to happen that isn't going to happen because it's impossible, and we keep telling him it's impossible, but he just-"

He couldn't go on. Something kept him from speaking. He couldn't figure out what it was, but something kept him from saying what he needed to say.

"Come here, my son," and Splinter gathered his son up to him in a hug. "I know that you do not wish to tattle on your brother. You know the difference between tattling just to get someone in trouble and telling something that will cause trouble. I want to know what is going on with your brother, but I do not want you to worry about telling me. If you think it is really important, then do not worry and simply tell me. But if you are this unsure, perhaps you need to think about it some more. You promise it is NOT something that will put your brother in danger?"

"Yes, I promise. It's just that he's going to- well, feel dumb when it comes out, and I don't wanna see him get hurt- as in feelings hurt."

Splinter nodded, then sighed.

"You are a good Ani," he said. "I suggest you sleep on it, and then we can speak in the morning. I know that you will make the right decision."

Leo, relieved, hugged his father and kissed him.

"Okay! Thanks, Father! 'Night, Father!"

"Good-night, my son," he returned, and watched Leonardo leave the room more quickly than he had entered.

Sighing, he closed the book and blew out his candles. He, too, would "sleep on it" and worry about things in the morning. For now, he was very tired. He hoped he was not catching cold from the trip in the sewer.