{/Early in December ten years ago, when our teenage heroes were little older than five, they were as prone to getting into mischief as they are to getting into trouble now.
But when their little game turns into a race for Michelangelo's life, the four young turtles find out that above all else, family always comes first.../}
=Lost and Found=
They had never strayed far from the lair before. In their short five years, they had stayed close to Splinter, afraid to wander from his careful tutelage and fatherly care for them. They may not have been his sons by blood, but he called them such, and even when they called him sensei, they respected him as any child might their beloved father.
It was a crisp morning in early December that Raphael's pioneering spirit took hold, seeming to demand he leave the lair and see just what he could see. Years from then, he would know the sewer paths like the back of his hand, but at that point, he was a curious boy... and curious boys are prone to wandering off, with or without permission.
"Raph, where are you going?"
The young turtle knew that voice and at the sound of it, he winced, brown eyes narrowing behind the red bandana he wore. "Out, Leo. That so wrong?"
The elder shook his head. He stood just slightly taller than Raphael, distinguished from his siblings by his own blue bandana. He had a soft voice... but that didn't stop him from sounding stern, even to Raphael. "Master Splinter told us not to wander too far without him. We could get lost."
Raphael snorted in response, folding his arms as he made a face at his older brother. "Splinter says, Splinter says... that's always your excuse, Leo! Learn to have a little fun... to live a little! Master Splinter's sound asleep... he won't notice if we wander out of the lair and come right back!"
Before Leonardo could even form a retort on his tongue, a pair of almost black eyes shining brightly from within an orange bandana peered up over his shoulder. "Hey... Raph, you plannin' on goin' out?"
Leonardo groaned, but Raphael grinned. If he could convince any of his brothers to go on an outing with him, it would most certainly be Michelangelo. He was the baby of the four, and always interested in seeing anything there was to see... even if that meant getting into a little bit of trouble. "You got it, Mikey!" he grinned. "Ya gonna come with me?"
Instantly, Michelangelo grinned, fists pulled up in front of him in excitement. "You bet! It's gettin' boring in here... there's gotta be more to the sewers than what Master Splinter's showed us, right?"
"Hey, guys, if you're going, I'm going too!" This voice belonged to Donatello, spotted by his purple bandana. He was the misfit... hardly fitting in with his brothers, he was a child genius, capable of comprehending many technological niches the others could never hope to understand. He was grinning as well as he spoke. "It's winter, and I've heard that the icy streets cause people to drop things more often... never know what we might find!"
"Other than trouble," Leonardo grumbled. "Guys, we can't leave the lair without Master Splinter. We don't know the way!"
Once again, this did not seem to concern Raphael in the slightest. He just grinned. "Don't worry about it, Leo. We'll just watch the turns we make and backtrack."
The other three had started out when Leonardo sighed deeply, finally resigning himself to following his brothers. "Master Splinter is gonna kill us..."
=====
Normally, snow is not found in the sewers the boys called home, but today, there on the walkways near a stream of sunlight from the ceiling above, there were two small piles of the powdery stuff.
The draw of the puffy white substance floating down from the open manhole was too much for the young Raphael to pass up. Curious brown eyes watched for a moment before approaching the piles on the walkway. "Hey, guys!" he called to his brothers. "Look at this!"
The other three young turtles appeared around the corner. Donatello blinked, moving foreward to poke the pile carefully. "It's cold!"
"Master Splinter called it... snow, didn't he?" Leonardo questioned.
Donatello nodded. "That means it's winter topside." He blinked when his attention was caught by the ever-curious Michelangelo, who was trying to get a closer look, but was lingering a little close to the water. Too close for Donatello's comfort. "Mikey, be careful around the water. We're so close to the surface here that even the water here in the sewer'll be cold!"
In response, Michelangelo grinned. "Aw, I'm fine, Donny. See?"
He hopped foreward, landing on one foot. "Nothin' ta worry abo--wwaah!"
He didn't even finish his sentence before the snow beneath his foot gave way, sending him flying into the icy water. Raphael nearly panicked. "Mikey!"
Quickly, Donatello looked around, searching for something... ANYthing he could use to save his brother. Finally, he grabbed an old pipe, running foreward to fish Michelangelo out of the water. Once they had him on dry land, the other boys crowded around their shivering baby brother.
"Mikey!" Carefully, Leonardo knelt next to his brother. "Are you okay, Mikey?!"
Michelangelo shook his head, shivering hard before sneezing. "Y-y-yeah... a-at least... I w-will be..."
Frowning, Raphael gave Michelangelo a light whap on the head, his worry threatening to overcome his strangely sullen demeanor. "Shell for brains."
"Guys, we have to get Mikey home. He's freezing... he could get really sick," Donatello stated, pulling a ratty old blanket out from a bag he'd taken to carrying.
In response, Raphael grumbled. "Oh, smart idea, Donny. We're five. Who's gonna carry 'im?"
Leonardo rested his hand on Michelangelo's shell. "Can you walk, Mikey...?"
The younger nodded, staggering to his feet as Donatello wrapped the blanket around him. The brother wearing purple sighed, bracing his brother with one arm. "Master Splinter will be angry with us for wandering this far, but we can worry about that after Mikey's safe."
The others nodded, and slowly, the four began their trek back towards the lair.
=====
"I'm tellin' ya, Leo, we came from this way!"
"Raph, now you're just being stubborn. It was this way."
It had been nearly two hours since Michelangelo had fallen into the snow and wind chilled water, and things were not looking any better. More than an hour before, the quartet had started into areas that did not look familiar, and now they were convinced they had taken a wrong turn... a wrong turn that at that point, could have been a deadly mistake.
Donatello didn't look pleased, bracing Michelangelo as best as he could. His mind was working full-speed, trying to surmise a way they could get word to Master Splinter of their location, but coming up with nothing. "This is really bad..."
Raphael frowned, walking over to help Michelangelo sit. Settling himself next to his brother, he resolved himself to teh one thing that could get them out of this. "We can't go any further than this. We'll just get more lost, and Mikey's not doin' so good... Master Splinter'll come lookin' for us, right? So if we try not to go far from here, he'll find us."
The others nodded in agreement, and Leonardo bit his tongue to hold back an 'I told you so.' Raphael was obviously not in the mood, nor was he for any of their fights, and right now, Michelangelo's health was far more important.
Silence fell over them for the time being as they sat in silent contemplation of what had happened. Of course, in the minds of four five-year old boys, there was only one main thought running through. How badly they were going to be scolded when they got home!
=====
The lair was quiet when Splinter started to come out of his afternoon meditation. The hour had grown late... but not late enough for his four sons to be asleep already. Normally, when he meditated, they would make themselves busy doing a variety of things around the lair, but the still of his home alerted the old rat almost instantly that something was amiss.
Giving his head a quick shake to clear some of the dull laziness meditation settled in his weary bones, he climbed to his feet, stepping out of the small area he had reserved for himself. The lair was free of any sign of his sons. Donatello's little work area, where he almost constantly studied and invented, was left in the middle of some little mechanical experiment. Raphael's wooden sai, used for practice (which he did almost out of his own enjoyment instead of the want to improve, much to Splinter's chagrin), were discarded near the practice mat. Michelangelo's walkman, found broken and repaired by Donatello, sat on the edge of a beat-up couch. Leonardo's small boken, carved by Splinter himself, were near where Raphael's sai were left.
To make matters worse, the door to their lair was open.
Instantly, Splinter was on full alert, the fur on the back of his neck bristling. Ears and whiskers flicked foreward as he sniffed the air gingerly, using his sense of smell to lead him to his wayward charges.
Sighing lightly, he started out, closing the door behind him. While he was angry that they had left after he had strictly instructed them not to unless he was with them, he felt positive that the want to see his sons safe far outweighed his frustration... at any time.
=====
"Donny... I'm not sure Mikey can hang on much longer... he's shakin' real bad..."
Raphael's voice sounded uncharacteristically small in the tunnel. Michelangelo had closed his eyes tightly, curled as closed in on himself as he could get under the only blanket provided, which even now was damp from having soaked up the water clinging to him after his fall. Leonardo frowned as he watched the pair. "This is bad, you guys... we've gotta get back... if we don't, Mikey might..."
Instantly, Raphael's eyes shot to his older brother. The look was enough to renew at least a little bit of Leonardo's hope... if Raphael still wasn't giving up, then the others shouldn't either. "He's gonna be fine, Leo!" he retorted. "Master Splinter'll find us... Mikey'll be fine... right, Mikey?" No response. That fierce expression grew fearful almost instantly. "Mikey?!"
Hearing that, the others crowded around the two instantly. Donatello pressed one of his small hands against Michelangelo's forehead. Their mutation caused many strange things to happen... including human-like qualities in illness. "He's burning up, guys... he's got a fever. We've got to get him home."
"How?" Leonardo asked quietly. "Donny, we have no idea where we are. We're lost... and now this..."
His words were enough to worry Donatello, who frowned even deeper than he already was. "Leo... you... you're not giving up, are you?"
Leonardo just lowered his eyes. "We never should've left the lair..."
Raphael, for once, did not shoot a comment back concerning his own bull-headedness. He just ducked his head, keeping close to Michelangelo. They may have been cold-blooded, but they showed very warm-blooded tendancies sometimes, and in this case, the only thing he could think of doing was keeping his baby brother warm.
The three still-wary members of the group were startled into full awareness then by the sound of footsteps approaching down the tunnel. Raphael would have blanched if he could have. "Someone's coming...!"
"Stay close, guys," Leonardo instructed. "Be ready for anything."
The others nodded, all of them staying as close to Michelangelo as possible, watching the direction the footsteps were coming from, ready to defend themselves until a familiar figure appeared around the bend, and three small voices cried out, "Sensei!"
Splinter had never been more relieved to hear the boys together, but seeing them was even more of a blessing. Michelangelo, however, appeared to be in a bad way. He frowned at his sons as they all began to try to explain at once, then held up a hand to silence them. Obediently, they quieted. "Donatello... please tell me what has happened here."
"I--if it's okay, Master Splinter... I'd like to explain it..." Raphael interrupted before his brother could begin, nervously wringing his hands together as Splinter knelt to pick up the shivering Michelangelo. He nodded, and the boy began to speak. "It was me... I just wanted to see what was out there... we found some snow comin' in from an open manhole, and when we were checkin' it out, Mikey fell into the water... we tried to find our way back, but we got lost..."
"I have warned you all against leaving the lair until you know your way through the tunnels," Splinter chided. The boys nodded solemnly. "However, now is not the time for reprimands. I am most grateful that you are all alive. It pained me to think any one of you could have been lost in the dreadful weather that has settled upon the city above... or to a hapless human wandering below-ground."
The three young turtles following the old rat were bewildered at his words, but happy to hear them. Despite the oddity of their small family, they were still a family, just the same. They trotted quietly along behind their master, for the most part remaining in silence, until Leonardo spoke up. "Sensei," he mumbled quietly, "is Mikey gonna be all right?"
Splinter couldn't help but smile at the concern he saw on the three young faces that stared up at him as they headed back to their home. "I am certain he will be, my son. He just needs time."
=====
Michelangelo had improved quite a bit in the three days since they had returned, and now, all four of the boys sat together (with Michelangelo wrapped rather securely in a heavy blanket) on the old broken down couch. Splinter stood in front of them with a stern expression. "My sons, I am pleased that you are all well. It would have grieved me tremendously had any of you been mortally wounded, or more gravely ill than Michelangelo had been. However, I cannot condone leaving the lair unaccompanied. For the three of you, extra training detail for the week. Michelangelo will begin as well, as soon as he is well enough."
The boys mumbled, but all nodded.
"Yes, Sensei," they murmured in unison.
As the other three boys went about their training, Michelangelo turned on the couch to watch them. He sighed, then coughed, cowering down in the blanket as Splinter rested one clawed hand on top of his head. "Rest for now, Michelangelo." It had surprised him how easy it was to get his youngest son to train if the others were... he hated being left out almost as much as he hated being ignored. "We are your family. We would never let you fall behind."
=====
A sudden sneeze filled the air, followed by a low grumble. "Hey, guys, he's waking up!"
Ten years later. Donatello stood at Michelangelo's bedside, hand resting against his brother's forehead. Michelangelo had gotten himself tossed into the river helping draw some of the Purple Dragons away from Leonardo, and in the winter weather, the chilled water had once again given him a nasty cold.
Michelangelo opened his eyes to the sight of his brothers and father standing around him, all of them watching him expectantly. Why had he been thinking about that time? Was it because he was sick now too?
Wincing once at the pain coughing in his sleep had left him, he looked around at them, then grinned. "Boy, this looks familiar." He coughed. "Only this time, it's not Raphael's fault I got drenched."
"Smartass," Raphael hissed. He was rewarded by a whack on the head from Splinter's walking stick, and though he gave a shout of surprise, he bit his tongue to hold in a retort. "Sorry, Sensei..."
After casting a chastising glare at Raphael, Splinter turned his attention to Michelangelo, his expression changing to gentle approval. "You did well, Michelangelo. Had you not done as you did, your brother may have been even more grievously wounded."
Leonardo nodded, flexing his fingers. His left arm was bound in ace bandages and rested in a sling, a fate Michelangelo was happy not to share. "I owe a lot to you, Mikey... thank you."
Michelangelo nodded in response, then yawned quietly. Splinter watched, then looked towards his sons. "He needs his rest. I will require no training exercises of any of you tonight. Do as you will." The others nodded and, after insisting their brother get well soon, filtered out. Splinter turned his attention to Michelangelo then. "I have never been more proud of you, Michelangelo. You saved Leonardo's life, something he is grateful for, and something I am most proud of."
"I couldn't let him get hurt, Sensei," Michelangelo answered, the childish naivety and honesty he always had carried coming through in his tone of voice. "Leo's our brother..." He paused there to yawn, drowsiness threatening to draw him into sleep. "Don't know what we'd do without 'im..."
The shift in his tone caused Splinter to smile almost involuntarily. Michelangelo was tired, both from sickness and from exhertion. Reaching foreward, he gently pressed his son's eyes closed. "Rest, Michelangelo. We will not let you fall behind."
He did not have to ask twice. Even as he spoke, Michelangelo had drifted into slumber, much more peaceful than when he had been carried home by Raphael, shivering and coughing violently. Smiling softly, the old rat stood and made his way out of his youngest son's room.
He didn't even bother making a comment, even when he saw nearby the other three, ready to act quickly should their baby brother need anything.
He would always do the same for them.
=End=
But when their little game turns into a race for Michelangelo's life, the four young turtles find out that above all else, family always comes first.../}
=Lost and Found=
They had never strayed far from the lair before. In their short five years, they had stayed close to Splinter, afraid to wander from his careful tutelage and fatherly care for them. They may not have been his sons by blood, but he called them such, and even when they called him sensei, they respected him as any child might their beloved father.
It was a crisp morning in early December that Raphael's pioneering spirit took hold, seeming to demand he leave the lair and see just what he could see. Years from then, he would know the sewer paths like the back of his hand, but at that point, he was a curious boy... and curious boys are prone to wandering off, with or without permission.
"Raph, where are you going?"
The young turtle knew that voice and at the sound of it, he winced, brown eyes narrowing behind the red bandana he wore. "Out, Leo. That so wrong?"
The elder shook his head. He stood just slightly taller than Raphael, distinguished from his siblings by his own blue bandana. He had a soft voice... but that didn't stop him from sounding stern, even to Raphael. "Master Splinter told us not to wander too far without him. We could get lost."
Raphael snorted in response, folding his arms as he made a face at his older brother. "Splinter says, Splinter says... that's always your excuse, Leo! Learn to have a little fun... to live a little! Master Splinter's sound asleep... he won't notice if we wander out of the lair and come right back!"
Before Leonardo could even form a retort on his tongue, a pair of almost black eyes shining brightly from within an orange bandana peered up over his shoulder. "Hey... Raph, you plannin' on goin' out?"
Leonardo groaned, but Raphael grinned. If he could convince any of his brothers to go on an outing with him, it would most certainly be Michelangelo. He was the baby of the four, and always interested in seeing anything there was to see... even if that meant getting into a little bit of trouble. "You got it, Mikey!" he grinned. "Ya gonna come with me?"
Instantly, Michelangelo grinned, fists pulled up in front of him in excitement. "You bet! It's gettin' boring in here... there's gotta be more to the sewers than what Master Splinter's showed us, right?"
"Hey, guys, if you're going, I'm going too!" This voice belonged to Donatello, spotted by his purple bandana. He was the misfit... hardly fitting in with his brothers, he was a child genius, capable of comprehending many technological niches the others could never hope to understand. He was grinning as well as he spoke. "It's winter, and I've heard that the icy streets cause people to drop things more often... never know what we might find!"
"Other than trouble," Leonardo grumbled. "Guys, we can't leave the lair without Master Splinter. We don't know the way!"
Once again, this did not seem to concern Raphael in the slightest. He just grinned. "Don't worry about it, Leo. We'll just watch the turns we make and backtrack."
The other three had started out when Leonardo sighed deeply, finally resigning himself to following his brothers. "Master Splinter is gonna kill us..."
=====
Normally, snow is not found in the sewers the boys called home, but today, there on the walkways near a stream of sunlight from the ceiling above, there were two small piles of the powdery stuff.
The draw of the puffy white substance floating down from the open manhole was too much for the young Raphael to pass up. Curious brown eyes watched for a moment before approaching the piles on the walkway. "Hey, guys!" he called to his brothers. "Look at this!"
The other three young turtles appeared around the corner. Donatello blinked, moving foreward to poke the pile carefully. "It's cold!"
"Master Splinter called it... snow, didn't he?" Leonardo questioned.
Donatello nodded. "That means it's winter topside." He blinked when his attention was caught by the ever-curious Michelangelo, who was trying to get a closer look, but was lingering a little close to the water. Too close for Donatello's comfort. "Mikey, be careful around the water. We're so close to the surface here that even the water here in the sewer'll be cold!"
In response, Michelangelo grinned. "Aw, I'm fine, Donny. See?"
He hopped foreward, landing on one foot. "Nothin' ta worry abo--wwaah!"
He didn't even finish his sentence before the snow beneath his foot gave way, sending him flying into the icy water. Raphael nearly panicked. "Mikey!"
Quickly, Donatello looked around, searching for something... ANYthing he could use to save his brother. Finally, he grabbed an old pipe, running foreward to fish Michelangelo out of the water. Once they had him on dry land, the other boys crowded around their shivering baby brother.
"Mikey!" Carefully, Leonardo knelt next to his brother. "Are you okay, Mikey?!"
Michelangelo shook his head, shivering hard before sneezing. "Y-y-yeah... a-at least... I w-will be..."
Frowning, Raphael gave Michelangelo a light whap on the head, his worry threatening to overcome his strangely sullen demeanor. "Shell for brains."
"Guys, we have to get Mikey home. He's freezing... he could get really sick," Donatello stated, pulling a ratty old blanket out from a bag he'd taken to carrying.
In response, Raphael grumbled. "Oh, smart idea, Donny. We're five. Who's gonna carry 'im?"
Leonardo rested his hand on Michelangelo's shell. "Can you walk, Mikey...?"
The younger nodded, staggering to his feet as Donatello wrapped the blanket around him. The brother wearing purple sighed, bracing his brother with one arm. "Master Splinter will be angry with us for wandering this far, but we can worry about that after Mikey's safe."
The others nodded, and slowly, the four began their trek back towards the lair.
=====
"I'm tellin' ya, Leo, we came from this way!"
"Raph, now you're just being stubborn. It was this way."
It had been nearly two hours since Michelangelo had fallen into the snow and wind chilled water, and things were not looking any better. More than an hour before, the quartet had started into areas that did not look familiar, and now they were convinced they had taken a wrong turn... a wrong turn that at that point, could have been a deadly mistake.
Donatello didn't look pleased, bracing Michelangelo as best as he could. His mind was working full-speed, trying to surmise a way they could get word to Master Splinter of their location, but coming up with nothing. "This is really bad..."
Raphael frowned, walking over to help Michelangelo sit. Settling himself next to his brother, he resolved himself to teh one thing that could get them out of this. "We can't go any further than this. We'll just get more lost, and Mikey's not doin' so good... Master Splinter'll come lookin' for us, right? So if we try not to go far from here, he'll find us."
The others nodded in agreement, and Leonardo bit his tongue to hold back an 'I told you so.' Raphael was obviously not in the mood, nor was he for any of their fights, and right now, Michelangelo's health was far more important.
Silence fell over them for the time being as they sat in silent contemplation of what had happened. Of course, in the minds of four five-year old boys, there was only one main thought running through. How badly they were going to be scolded when they got home!
=====
The lair was quiet when Splinter started to come out of his afternoon meditation. The hour had grown late... but not late enough for his four sons to be asleep already. Normally, when he meditated, they would make themselves busy doing a variety of things around the lair, but the still of his home alerted the old rat almost instantly that something was amiss.
Giving his head a quick shake to clear some of the dull laziness meditation settled in his weary bones, he climbed to his feet, stepping out of the small area he had reserved for himself. The lair was free of any sign of his sons. Donatello's little work area, where he almost constantly studied and invented, was left in the middle of some little mechanical experiment. Raphael's wooden sai, used for practice (which he did almost out of his own enjoyment instead of the want to improve, much to Splinter's chagrin), were discarded near the practice mat. Michelangelo's walkman, found broken and repaired by Donatello, sat on the edge of a beat-up couch. Leonardo's small boken, carved by Splinter himself, were near where Raphael's sai were left.
To make matters worse, the door to their lair was open.
Instantly, Splinter was on full alert, the fur on the back of his neck bristling. Ears and whiskers flicked foreward as he sniffed the air gingerly, using his sense of smell to lead him to his wayward charges.
Sighing lightly, he started out, closing the door behind him. While he was angry that they had left after he had strictly instructed them not to unless he was with them, he felt positive that the want to see his sons safe far outweighed his frustration... at any time.
=====
"Donny... I'm not sure Mikey can hang on much longer... he's shakin' real bad..."
Raphael's voice sounded uncharacteristically small in the tunnel. Michelangelo had closed his eyes tightly, curled as closed in on himself as he could get under the only blanket provided, which even now was damp from having soaked up the water clinging to him after his fall. Leonardo frowned as he watched the pair. "This is bad, you guys... we've gotta get back... if we don't, Mikey might..."
Instantly, Raphael's eyes shot to his older brother. The look was enough to renew at least a little bit of Leonardo's hope... if Raphael still wasn't giving up, then the others shouldn't either. "He's gonna be fine, Leo!" he retorted. "Master Splinter'll find us... Mikey'll be fine... right, Mikey?" No response. That fierce expression grew fearful almost instantly. "Mikey?!"
Hearing that, the others crowded around the two instantly. Donatello pressed one of his small hands against Michelangelo's forehead. Their mutation caused many strange things to happen... including human-like qualities in illness. "He's burning up, guys... he's got a fever. We've got to get him home."
"How?" Leonardo asked quietly. "Donny, we have no idea where we are. We're lost... and now this..."
His words were enough to worry Donatello, who frowned even deeper than he already was. "Leo... you... you're not giving up, are you?"
Leonardo just lowered his eyes. "We never should've left the lair..."
Raphael, for once, did not shoot a comment back concerning his own bull-headedness. He just ducked his head, keeping close to Michelangelo. They may have been cold-blooded, but they showed very warm-blooded tendancies sometimes, and in this case, the only thing he could think of doing was keeping his baby brother warm.
The three still-wary members of the group were startled into full awareness then by the sound of footsteps approaching down the tunnel. Raphael would have blanched if he could have. "Someone's coming...!"
"Stay close, guys," Leonardo instructed. "Be ready for anything."
The others nodded, all of them staying as close to Michelangelo as possible, watching the direction the footsteps were coming from, ready to defend themselves until a familiar figure appeared around the bend, and three small voices cried out, "Sensei!"
Splinter had never been more relieved to hear the boys together, but seeing them was even more of a blessing. Michelangelo, however, appeared to be in a bad way. He frowned at his sons as they all began to try to explain at once, then held up a hand to silence them. Obediently, they quieted. "Donatello... please tell me what has happened here."
"I--if it's okay, Master Splinter... I'd like to explain it..." Raphael interrupted before his brother could begin, nervously wringing his hands together as Splinter knelt to pick up the shivering Michelangelo. He nodded, and the boy began to speak. "It was me... I just wanted to see what was out there... we found some snow comin' in from an open manhole, and when we were checkin' it out, Mikey fell into the water... we tried to find our way back, but we got lost..."
"I have warned you all against leaving the lair until you know your way through the tunnels," Splinter chided. The boys nodded solemnly. "However, now is not the time for reprimands. I am most grateful that you are all alive. It pained me to think any one of you could have been lost in the dreadful weather that has settled upon the city above... or to a hapless human wandering below-ground."
The three young turtles following the old rat were bewildered at his words, but happy to hear them. Despite the oddity of their small family, they were still a family, just the same. They trotted quietly along behind their master, for the most part remaining in silence, until Leonardo spoke up. "Sensei," he mumbled quietly, "is Mikey gonna be all right?"
Splinter couldn't help but smile at the concern he saw on the three young faces that stared up at him as they headed back to their home. "I am certain he will be, my son. He just needs time."
=====
Michelangelo had improved quite a bit in the three days since they had returned, and now, all four of the boys sat together (with Michelangelo wrapped rather securely in a heavy blanket) on the old broken down couch. Splinter stood in front of them with a stern expression. "My sons, I am pleased that you are all well. It would have grieved me tremendously had any of you been mortally wounded, or more gravely ill than Michelangelo had been. However, I cannot condone leaving the lair unaccompanied. For the three of you, extra training detail for the week. Michelangelo will begin as well, as soon as he is well enough."
The boys mumbled, but all nodded.
"Yes, Sensei," they murmured in unison.
As the other three boys went about their training, Michelangelo turned on the couch to watch them. He sighed, then coughed, cowering down in the blanket as Splinter rested one clawed hand on top of his head. "Rest for now, Michelangelo." It had surprised him how easy it was to get his youngest son to train if the others were... he hated being left out almost as much as he hated being ignored. "We are your family. We would never let you fall behind."
=====
A sudden sneeze filled the air, followed by a low grumble. "Hey, guys, he's waking up!"
Ten years later. Donatello stood at Michelangelo's bedside, hand resting against his brother's forehead. Michelangelo had gotten himself tossed into the river helping draw some of the Purple Dragons away from Leonardo, and in the winter weather, the chilled water had once again given him a nasty cold.
Michelangelo opened his eyes to the sight of his brothers and father standing around him, all of them watching him expectantly. Why had he been thinking about that time? Was it because he was sick now too?
Wincing once at the pain coughing in his sleep had left him, he looked around at them, then grinned. "Boy, this looks familiar." He coughed. "Only this time, it's not Raphael's fault I got drenched."
"Smartass," Raphael hissed. He was rewarded by a whack on the head from Splinter's walking stick, and though he gave a shout of surprise, he bit his tongue to hold in a retort. "Sorry, Sensei..."
After casting a chastising glare at Raphael, Splinter turned his attention to Michelangelo, his expression changing to gentle approval. "You did well, Michelangelo. Had you not done as you did, your brother may have been even more grievously wounded."
Leonardo nodded, flexing his fingers. His left arm was bound in ace bandages and rested in a sling, a fate Michelangelo was happy not to share. "I owe a lot to you, Mikey... thank you."
Michelangelo nodded in response, then yawned quietly. Splinter watched, then looked towards his sons. "He needs his rest. I will require no training exercises of any of you tonight. Do as you will." The others nodded and, after insisting their brother get well soon, filtered out. Splinter turned his attention to Michelangelo then. "I have never been more proud of you, Michelangelo. You saved Leonardo's life, something he is grateful for, and something I am most proud of."
"I couldn't let him get hurt, Sensei," Michelangelo answered, the childish naivety and honesty he always had carried coming through in his tone of voice. "Leo's our brother..." He paused there to yawn, drowsiness threatening to draw him into sleep. "Don't know what we'd do without 'im..."
The shift in his tone caused Splinter to smile almost involuntarily. Michelangelo was tired, both from sickness and from exhertion. Reaching foreward, he gently pressed his son's eyes closed. "Rest, Michelangelo. We will not let you fall behind."
He did not have to ask twice. Even as he spoke, Michelangelo had drifted into slumber, much more peaceful than when he had been carried home by Raphael, shivering and coughing violently. Smiling softly, the old rat stood and made his way out of his youngest son's room.
He didn't even bother making a comment, even when he saw nearby the other three, ready to act quickly should their baby brother need anything.
He would always do the same for them.
=End=