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Description
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT
Summary: The turtles learn more about the world around them
Rating: G
Note: Oh my a story from orangebarmy!!!!

Splinter’s mouth curled up slightly in the corners as he watched his four young sons shuffle and scurry across the floor of their makeshift home. It was one of his favourite things to do, to sit and watch as his children learned with such joyful delight.

The months since their mutation had passed so quickly but Splinter wouldn’t change a second of it. The knowledge which had previously only been a visual memory was still sorting and settling within his mind and body; the mysterious mutagen somehow changing it seeping it into his muscles and core.

Happiness pooled in his chest as the wonderful innocent giggles of his sons reached his ears as they chased and wrestled each other across the floor for the ball, with which they were playing.

His ears flicked for a second as another sound almost hidden by his children’s delight teased his senses. He sat a little more upright his nose twitching, ears flicking back and forth, mouth dropping open enough for his tongue to taste the air.

His tail lashed from side to side as his panic began to grow as the information was processed by his brain.

“My sons!” Splinter’s voice held a bit of a bite to it causing the four little turtles to pause mid-play.

Four sets of eyes watched Splinter for further information as the mutated rat came to his feet each sense still striving and straining to gather information.

“It is time to play quiet,” Splinter spoke softly even as he was moving towards the far side of his small home.

He heard the tell-tale patter of the tot’s feet as they made their way over to him waiting quietly behind him as he pulled the wood and debris away from the wall. The hollowed-out hole in the wall was big enough to fit all five of them, although as the turtles got bigger it was getting a tighter squeeze.

“Does everyone remember how to play quiet?” Splinter asked as he moved the last bit of board out of the way.

“Yes,” came four cheery replies.

Splinter nodded his head and motioned for his sons to get inside. Once all four were inside he gave them a reassuring smile.

“Okay playing quiet starts now. I will join you in a moment, but I can still hear you, so I will know if someone tries to cheat,” Splinter explained a light teasing tone making his son’s smile.

Easing away from the hole Splinter moved over to the main exit of their home and began to reinforce it with metal and wooden boards, making it as hidden and uninviting as possible to the sewer workers who he heard approaching.

Once the entrance and exit to their home was as secure as possible Splinter made his way back over the hole in the wall. Pulling selected boards, he began to hide it once more before crawling in beside his sons and sealing up the hole as best as he could.

As soon as he was settled Donatello crawled into his lap followed by Raphael, while Michelangelo and Leonardo curled up at his sides. All four of the young turtles remained silent snuggling up close to their father, each of them determined to win at playing quiet.

Splinter felt his heart began to beat a little faster as the workers drew closer to their home and for a moment it felt like the organ stuttered to a stop as he realised the workers were stopping in the tunnel right outside their home.

“My sons why don’t you close your eyes, it will make playing quiet easier,” Splinter whispered.

He felt rather than saw his sons follow his instructions, the four curling up against his warmer fur rubbing their forms against him to find comfort. His arms wrapped around Donatello and Raphael while his tail moved to rest across Michelangelo and Leonardo drawing them all into him.

Every aspect of Splinter was on high alert, his hearing moving rapidly between taking in the sounds of the sewer workers and the gentle shuffling and breathes of his children. He heard the coarse conversation of the humans as they fixed the broken cables, heard and felt the vibrations of the music as it pulsed from the radio the workers brought with them.

He felt Leonardo shuffle and let out a soft whimper. Gently Splinter moved his hand down from Raphael’s carapace to gently rub at Leonardo’s soothing his proclaimed eldest. A few seconds later Donatello let out a similar whimper quickly followed by Raphael and Michelangelo.

“Shhh, shhhh it is okay,” Splinter soothed as his sons picked up on the sounds outside of their home.

The sounds eased once more but Splinter could feel the increased pace of his son’s heart beats and the increase of their breaths.

The mutated rat shifted with each movement of his children, soothing through touch and proximity as much as possible, occasionally muttering words of comfort. It felt like eons to the small turtles before Splinter finally said it was time to stop playing quiet.

Still moving quietly Splinter managed to crawl from the hidden hole, motioning for his sons to remain behind. The knowledge of stealth from Master Yoshi teased its way through his muscles easing him across the floor silently.

Coming to a stop beside the barricaded doorway Splinter pressed his ear to it listening intently. After several minutes he finally deemed it safe and pulled away.

“You may come out now my sons,” Splinter called moving over to the hole to help them come out.

Smiling widely at the freedom once again earned the young turtles scurried out of the hole.

“Well done my sons you played quiet very well, I am proud of you,” Splinter stated crouching down in front of them.

“Who won?” Raph asked looking up at his father.

Chuckling Splinter placed a hand upon Raphael’s shoulder giving it a squeeze.

“Well technically Michelangelo was the last to make a noise, but I think you all did so well everyone deserves a reward, what do you say?” Splinter questioned.

Excited cheers erupted from the tots as they scurried to follow Splinter to the small kitchen area. Going into the top cupboard Splinter retrieved the small bag of assorted sweets which he had discovered during his rummages in the sewers.

Selecting four of the wrapped candies he handed each of them the treat. They ripped the wrappers off eagerly and shovelled them into their mouths, grinning widely up at their father.

“And Michelangelo will get to choose the story tonight,” Splinter added.

“Yes!” Michelangelo cheered jumping up and down on the spot.

Chuckling Splinter stroked the top of his bald head, “Go and play.”

Three of the turtles made their way over to the ball and began to play with it again, but Leonardo stayed by his father.

“What is it Leonardo?” Splinter asked kneeling down before his son.

“What was the sound the big people were making?” Leonardo asked.

Splinter smiled at his son’s description of humans, knowing to the small turtle that they were indeed big people.

“Which sound is that my son?” he asked.

Leonardo let out a noise and for a moment Splinter was confused until he realised that his son was trying to replicate the music which had blasted from the workers radio.

“That my son is called music,” Splinter answered.

“What’s music?” Donatello asked popping up beside Leonardo.

Motioning his sons into the main area of the living area Splinter sat and waited for his children to make a little semi-circle around him.

“Music is the production of sounds of differing levels known as notes which when strung together make something beautiful. Everyone has a different idea of what makes beautiful music as each of us hears the notes in a unique way. There are many ways to make music including using your voice and instruments,” Splinter explained.

“How do you make music with your voice?” Mikey asked bouncing up and down on his knees.

“The same way you speak, but instead of cutting off the sounds you make them longer like so,” Splinter answered demonstrating by holding the word ‘o’ out into a note.

Echoes of ‘ohhs’ came from his sons as they tried to emulate their father before they erupted into giggles as the varying noises they made.

“Let us start with something simple called humming,” Splinter chuckled.

Explaining to his sons how to hum he laughed as they each tried it giving out unique noises tailored to their own.

Enamoured with the new skill the turtles began to use it at every possible chance learning on their own how to make new sounds outside of humming. Splinter used his time scavenging to try and find a radio and when he did he was rewarded with the absolute joy his sons took in their newest ‘toy’.

With the radio Splinter was able to expose his sons to a wide variety of music styles and each of them began to develop their own tastes as to what they thought was beautiful music as their father had originally described it.

While not each of their choices was to Splinter’s particular taste he allowed each of them time during the day to listen to their favourite station chuckling at the arguments and teasing it caused.

He had a moment of regret however when his sons discovered they could make more of their ‘music’ if they used varying items inside their home as well as their voices. However, sitting watching them play together combining their various skills and styles, their laughter echoing around their latest home made it worthwhile.

Because to Splinter the sweetest of all music was that of his sons happy and together.

END