How many had it been now?...

Just how long had he been this way? Seems like forever...

Bathed in sweat, knees hiked up to his chest, an assertive terra-warrior knowing his used body.

OH! Right theeeerrreeee...

What was this guy's name again? Lenerd? Lardo? Leonardo?

Yes, yes, yes, just a little farther and he'd be-

The ones waiting patiently outside the tent for their turn, received their cue to move forward one place in line by the telltale scream of the bearer as he conceived. Some of the warriors whooped and hollered, congratulating their fellow warrior for the success of sewing his seed. This time tomorrow there would be a new life joining the clan. A small terra-turtle that would grow to be strong, protect, and fight for the clan. A few of the terras grumbled and complained that they'd have to wait longer for their chance to breed.

Donatello collapsed, exhausted. He felt the weight of the other lift up off his worn body and stand tall, seemingly energetic and ready for anything, as if he hadn't just roughly bred the bearer for a long three hours. What a sight to this terra, Don must be. Laying there at the other's feet, legs splayed open, too weak to draw together, bare, and mistakenly wanton in this position. Don's heart dancing to the fevered beat of post climax, he gasped for air. This terra was good on the rug, his unwavering stamina left nothing to be desired.

Unless, your name is Donatello... Unless you are a Bearer. Tired, so very tired, but not one to break custom, he drug himself upright and leaned forward on his knees, beak touching the cushioned floor in ritual submission.

Don's throat was sore from overuse, his voice hoarse, "It is my duty to inform you that-"

"Really!?" Don resisted the urge to look at the strapping terra, who sounded so reverent in joyous disbelief. Don longed to see his, undoubtedly, pleased face.

Leonardo was beaming. All his fears and stressed worrying had been for naught. After a decade, during which he'd experienced the coming and going of three bearers, he was finally going to be blessed with a little terra to raise as his own. Finally, a bearer had done something right. After his first unfruitful tryst with bearer Kep he'd been upset, but understanding. When bearer Lonalin had failed to bear for him, he'd demonstrated generous leniency. And when the last bearer failed him as well, he could only assume it was something they were doing on purpose, and stormed out of the breeding tent after severely chastising the insolent turtle. Now this one had pulled through and Leo was going to be a father.

The soft spoken Bearer confirmed the terra's happiness, "Yes, my terra. You shall have a healthy son about noonday tomorrow."

"That's amazing! I can't believe-... I mean... very good bearer." Suddenly annoyed that he let his cool exterior slip in the presence of a mere bearer he stood to leave.

"This is your first, isn't it? Please forgive me for speaking out of my right, my terra, but it's perfectly normal to be excited for the coming of your first child." To lessen the sting of the blow that was sure to come for his gall, Donatello prostrated himself even lower, trying to appease the terra's more alpha tendencies, the action causing his hips to burn from the strain.

Surprisingly, he wasn't struck. Instead the terra re-seated himself and reached out to touch the bearer's scuffed shell. Leo would never say it out loud, but he felt a warmth, a calmness this bearer's delicate visage seemed to bring. As he studied the turtle kneeling so closely to the floor, careful not to disrespect Leonardo, keeping his eyes solely on the floor, the warrior figured it wouldn't hurt to abide here while and converse with the life giver. It wasn't technically against the rules, just irregular, and the other terras would give him flack about it. Leo concluded as long as he left quietly out the back and threatened the bearer to stay silent, no one would know of his questionable actions.

Tapping thoughtfully on Don's subtle shoulders, he watched closely for the bearer's reaction to his extended attention, "You talk more than the last bearer. What's your name?"

"Donatello, my terra."

Donatello. Interesting name for a Bearer. They usually were given short, simple to pronounce names. That way it was easier to remember.

"Donatello, can you tell me anything else about my little one?"

Don downed a heavy sigh, and grimacing, he reached deep within, something he'd ceased practicing years ago. He'd learned the rough way that learning more about the character and personality of his undeveloped babe only made it harder to give them up to the sire directly after the labor of birthing. It was painful to get a glimpse of their unique beauty and inner potential only to never know, and in most cases, never see the child again. Knowing it would weigh heavily on his heart, Donatello delved deep to feel the tiny life floating at his center, already growing inside him. Even though it hurt, he couldn't deny the terra what he asked as the bearer would no doubt be punished if he didn't comply with a response fast enough for the terra's expectations.

Donatello found the minuscule babe where he knew it would be, safely tucked inside his womb, minding its own business. The new life was developing at a perfectly precise pace, and it was certain he would be a healthy, happy turtle. Slim, but strong. Curious, yet cautious. Don smiled sadly. His child would be an adorable little terra.

He opened his mouth to indulge the terra-warrior when he did a double take at the elevated sub hormones the child's body chemicals would produce. Donatello's head spun with sick realization. The child... That gender signature...

Dismay filled his broken heart. No! Not yet! This can't happen yet! Before he could reign it in a raspy sob escaped his full lips.

"Oh!"

Leo saw how Donatello cringed away from him and he became suspicious. Would the babe be sickly, deformed? Had the bearer failed him and now feared Leonardo's wrath?

"What's wrong?! Is he alright?" Then Don was being held tightly to a well formed plastron chest.

Panicked, Don thrashed out, "You can't touch me until the Bearer is born! PLEASE! Please let me go!"

They couldn't hurt him while the babe used his body for sanctuary. But the time would come eventually. Don had ever been, always acutely aware of this. He lived every mournful day in the perpetual blackness of that fear. He dreamt of it too often. A dark filthy place, greedy groping hands, too many to count, all touching and bruising his pale green skin. Being shoved and yanked into cruel positions that would give the feral terras the most pleasure. And the worst part- what frightened him most was that all the while they abused him, he couldn't see their faces. Couldn't bring his eyes to theirs in defiance, to show them he would not break, that he was more than...

"I mean you no harm Donatello. Calm down!" Leonardo held fast around the middle of the unexpectedly strong turtle.

Donatello was losing it, crazy bearer! He only meant to stabilize him, not incur this disrespectful behavior. The agitated terra gave Don a good squeeze and immediately the struggling stopped. The sudden pain had slapped Don out of his panic in favor of protecting the tiny bearer inside him, "P-please, my terra, y-your child! He is more fragile than terra-turtles, you c-can't handle me this way."

Leo swallowed thickly, "Y-you... The next Bearer is mine?"

His arms fell lax and Don slid down his front, shaking violently. Everything was destroyed. All of Donatello's hopes crushed into oblivion. His vision blurred with liquid and his heart constricted painfully. This time tomorrow Don would meet the end of his usefulness... and...and Michelangelo wouldn't want him anymore.

Donatello, being very strong of character, never took offense at even the most demeaning of treatments and insults. He possessed a high tolerance for physical pain, but an emotional strife as compromising as this...

"I-it is my duty to inform you that y-your offspring is..." the despairing turtle's ragged breathing made it difficult to finish what seemed like a damming sentence, "Bearer."

The tall terra was breathless as well. His offspring would be a bearer. Would be... like him? He looked down on the sorry Bearer. After all these years Leo would be rewarded, not with the strong terra son he always wanted, but a weak thing, doomed to a pathetic existence as a bearer. Could fate really stoop this low? Had Leo done something in a past life to deserve this?

Donatello curled a little tighter in on himself. He couldn't gauge the reaction and feelings of the silent terra. It was scaring him. By unwritten law the warrior should be ripping through the tent's entrance and spreading the word of a new bearer, boasting that it was he who sired the turtle. Don risked it, out of the corner of his peripheral vision he saw the twisted face Leonardo was making and wanted to scream in frustration. Mikey was outside the tent. When he found out... Yet another thing broke inside of Donatello's battered heart.

Uncaring, Don dared break a most ancient of rules. Curved, sharp, raw-umber eyes sought out the terra's, wordlessly pleading for him to be silent, to be understanding.

Leonardo's jaw dropped in shocked awe, having never gazed into the eyes of a bearer. The most beautiful, entrancing, rich brown eyes. The pale green turtle's wet orbs earnestly tried to convey something, something simple, yet so emotionally complex Leo was deeply ashamed of the way he viewed lowly bearers. He always assumed that terras were, not necessarily superior just... better than the one who bore the young.

His child will be a Bearer.

Would he be born with such expressive, beautiful eyes as the very vulnerable creature before him? The terra couldn't make tails of the situation, or a clue as to the best course of action. Maybe the ache in his head was affecting his outrageous thinking.

Suddenly the position Donatello- the bearer was in made Leonardo painfully self-conscious, "I- I'm sorry. I-"

Donatello, remembering his place, lowered his head. Then the pains started and he cried out in surprise. Why was the terra-warrior not punishing him? Why was he still here? It all became too much and Don whimpered in distress as his guts changed and moved to better accommodate the life getting larger in his womb.

Where was Raphael? He needed his dear friend right now. The lower expanse of his flexible plastron quivered and grew a little, creating the slightest birth bump. Don grasped weakly, blinded by growth pains, at the legs of the only other person in the tent. The terra stiffened, struggling with the automatic response to shake the Bearer off.

"Dona! Dona, father sent me ahead. He's been waylaid at the forge, but he said-" a young terra-turtle had come through the flap at the back end of the tent. A small terra youngling with dark green skin, pale plastron, and delicately curved shell, standing no taller than three feet. The new comer stopped at the sight of Leonardo, and his creamy eyes narrowed in aggression when they drifted to the bearer's connection to the terra's legs.

"What have you done to my mother?! Get away from Dona!" the small turtle snarled, baring his molars, "He's not a fuck toy, Damn you!"

Leo's brow ridges scrunched together, shocked by the little, but hard to ignore terra, and baffled by the tike's aggression.

"R-Raecoo, w-watch your language young turtle, or no snuggles for you." Donatello hiccuped, releasing Leo that instant, "We don't... talk t-to our elders in this manner, Raecoo. Apologize to terra… F-forgive me, my terra, but might I know your name?"

The odd mood the warrior had adopted since learning of his offspring fled at the bearer's dulled tone and formal speech. Leo's jaw moved with the agitated grinding of his teeth and his posture straightened, "Leonardo."

Don, still very much in pain, but schooled, looked to small turtle expectantly, "Well?"

"I was out of line and disrespectful. I'm sorry Leonardo, sir," to Don he whispered, "Father said it would be safer for you, Dona, if people don't know that I- that we-"

He looked down at his little toes then up at Leo, his plump cheeks flushing in embarrassment, "You... you aren't really going to take away snuggle time are you- he might as well go all the way in front of the adult terra - mama? I'll carry terra Leonardo's weapons for a whole month if you'll still let me come every night."

To Leonardo's disbelief, Raecoo was openly pleading with the bearer, "Mama? Dona, has it started? Father sent me to hold you until he can love you." He pointedly glared at Leo when he audibly started at that, "Leonardo, sir, it's hard to believe that, that bothers you considering what probably went down in here a while ago."

The elder terra gaped.

Bold, Raecoo eyed Leo up and down then sniffed, "Father is bigger."

Leo's angry retort was toned out by Don's whimper of pain, and his ire was averted, "Bearer?"

The hunched over turtle reached for his child, seeking comfort and love. Raecoo's chest swelled with pride and excitement for his birther's affection. Trembling arms embraced the mini terra and pulled him close, Don's chin resting on the round rim of smooth, barely scuffed shell. Raecoo's churring was high pitched and clucky, normal for a five year old terra-turtle, as he basked in the snuggles he craved.

Leonardo couldn't stay too upset with the young thing when he cooed childlike assurances to a fully grown turtle and pecked tear streaked cheeks with multiple owie-dispelling kisses as though they were the only tonic for hurt in existence and he had to lay as many on Don as he could to prove the effectiveness of his healing method. Stranger still, the scene caused foreign stirrings within Leo and he couldn't want to look away.

The warrior felt like an intruder when Raecoo began rubbing soothing circles against the steadily rounding curve of Don's belly, whispering softly, "Remy loves you, he sends huggies. Ripin loves his Dona, he said so. Raelee asked me to give you this (a tiny lick just below Don's nostril slits). Also, Ruemin, Ruetoo, and Rueyue wanted me to nip your tail buuuuut," his serious face crinkled, and he nodded in Leo's direction, making Don let out a shaky chuckle, "yeah, they can do that tonight..."

Leo stared. Never in all his life... The bearer shuddered, whimpering, and unwittingly, Leo jerked forward to help, but stopped mid-step. What was he doing? Trying to comfort a bearer!

Hot breath at his neck made him jump three feet, exclaiming his surprise with a squeeky 'eep'!

"The fuck ya doin' in here?! Some turtle better have a damn good explanation for me, or shits' gonna fly."

Leo whipped around. There stood the largest, scariest turtle he'd ever seen, half a head taller than him, with wide shoulders, a broad chest, and heavily muscles limbs. Piercing golden eyes that promised anguish glared at Leo, daring him to make a wrong move.

The Bearer hiccuped and hugged little Raecoo impossibly closer as if to shield him from the profanity, "It's no wonder Raecoo has such a mouth. His father's is atrocious."