A/N: So yeah, I rewrote the ending. After I posted it last night, I knew I wasn't happy with it. Then after getting a lovely review from Jessiy Landroz, I decided that I had to rewrite it. So, I hope you enjoy it!

The lair was quiet; something that was unusual for seven in the evening. The squealing and pitter-patter of feet had been replaced with a slightly audible hum from the fridge. No lights were shed, casting the small home in complete black. It wasn't a comfortable blackness however. Rather, it was tense and foreboding. It was evident what kind of strain the family had been put under.

Michaelangelo hadn't made any progress. He had been sick for nearly a week, and he now laid motionless in his bed. He hadn't eaten in days, his throat hurt too much to sallow. Even if he could choke down a few pieces of food, it wouldn't remain in his stomach for long. To get him to drink water, Splinter had been putting chips of ice into his mouth; reading stories to him until the pieces had melted.

As much as it stung, Splinter had to come to terms that he son would most likely not make it. Splinter moved the small one out of the children's room and into his own bed, not wishing for his brothers to wake up one morning and find him gone.

Splinter sighed sorrowfully as he looked over Michaelangelo. Sweat accumulated on his brow, and the burning fever with he had started out with was now scorching. Splinter knew that if Michaelangelo had been a human child, he couldn't have possible survive with this kind of temperature. He hypothesized that his mutation probably had something to do with Michaelangelo withstanding it. Yet, the child was suffering, and Splinter wished desperately that fate would make up it's mind, and end his son's pain.

The rat rocked back and forth in his chair, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

Raphael sat up abruptly, waking up from his sallow sleep. A small whimper escaped his lips as he looked around his room, pondering on the time of night. Not that he had any really sense of time, other than the fact that it was way too late for him to be up.

Opposite of him sat Leonardo's bed. The night light that dimly illuminated their room allowed Raphael to see the sleeping form of his brother. Leo's shell faced the ceiling, rising up and down in a gentle breathing pattern. Next to Leonardo's bed was Donatello's. His quiet younger brother was curled in a tight ball, his left arm tightly squeezing a stuffed rabbit, while his right thumb was placed in his mouth, hanging slightly from Donny's bottom lip. Donatello was slightly embarrassed about his thumb sucking habit, seeing where he was still the only one of the four boys who hadn't grown out of it.

On the wooden end of their beds, the light cast a bright enough glow so Raphael could see the name etchings. One time when the four boy's had been watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, they saw the same time of etchings on the Dwarf's beds. Since they couldn't read, they asked their father what the words were. Splinter explained to them that they had their names written on each of their beds, as a way to sort of personalize them. The four turtles thought that that was so cool, they asked Splinter if they could do the same time. Not too long after that, each turtle child soon had their names on their own beds. Michaelangelo like his so much, that he ask Splinter if he could paint over his name and give it a bit of color.

Raph remember watching his father and brother working on the project together. Splinter held Mikey's hand, who held the paint brush, and together the painted over the letters with a bright orange. Raphael remember the smile his little brother had. He was as proud as could be.

Raphael sniffed. Rubbing the end of his beak, he began wondering if Mikey was ever going to get better.

Suddenly, Raphael peeled back his bed covers and quietly got out of his bed. Tip toeing across the floor towards the makeshift door, Raphael pushed it open, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Ten minutes later, Raphael was in his Sensei's room, a bowl of water in his hands. He had over filled the bowl, and it sloshed over every few steps. By the time they he had reach the bedside, Raphael had a trail of water leading back to the kitchen. Standing by the bed, Raph bend over and put the bowl on the floor, his pink tongue pressed against his upper lip in concentration. When he had got the bowl safely to the floor, he stood up and looked over to his Sensei, The child was slightly surprised that his father hadn't woken up at any of his movements.

Shrugging it off, he bend back down and grabbed the cloth that floated idly in the bowl. Wringing it out, he pressed it against his brother's forehead, wiping aways the drops of sweat. He had seen Sensei do the same thing earlier, before he took Raphael out of the room and ordered him to bed. He looked up to the side table that stood by his Sensei's chair, and the same bowl of water was still there. Raph would have used that instead of making a mess getting a new bowl, but he didn't want to wake up his father either.

Focusing his attention back on his brother, Raphael worried that Mikey hadn't even stirred against the cool drops. Dipping the rag back in the bowl, he started wringing it out again when a voice startled him.

"Raphael, what are you doing?"

Raphael jumped and faced Splinter, who looked at him with gentle eyes. The child looked as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Suddenly, Raphael broke out into tears. Surprised by the boy's reaction, Splinter jumped up and grabbed the child into his arms, cradling him close. Shushing him quietly, he whispered into his child's ear, "It's alright Raphael."

"No it's not Sensay!" the child hiccuped, sobbing at full throttled now "It's all my fault!"

Splinter rubbed the back of his shell with his paw "What is my son?"

"That Mikey is sick! You said that he got ne'moanya by being in the rain! Well, I sometimes sneak out at night with my yellow blanket and watch the night rain, and he followed me the last time I was out, and he was without any kinda blanket, and I gots him back as quickly as I could and, and, and..."

"That is enough my son," Splinter replied quietly. The rat looked at Raphael for a few moments, brewing over what his son had just shared.

"Although I'm disappointed that you have been sneaking out, I am glad that you have told me this" Splinter paused to let this little bit sink into his son's head before continuing, "But I also want you to know that it isn't your fault that Michaelangelo is sick. He knows just as well as you do that he shouldn't go out of the lair without me. Especially at night." Splinter hugged the child again, "You have learned an importantly lesson I hope my son."

Raphael nodded against Splinter shoulder. Splinter would let this go unpunished, seeing where he had already been through quite the scare. Being scare, Splinter mused, is probably the better teacher than any kind of punishment.

"Now, would you like to sit here with your brother?"

"Yesh" he whispered, wiping a few tears off his beak.

XXXXXX

Raph jumped suddenly, hearing a fit of coughs errupting in the room. The next thing he knew, he was being set on the floor gently and the rocking chair behind him began squeaking. A groggy feeling filled his eyes, and indication of sleep leaving them. The child looked upwards, seeing Splinter sitting on the side of the bed.

Scrambling to his feet, Raphael's eyes met with his coughing little brother. Splinter, with wet rag in hand, was dabbing his son's forehead.

"Michaelangelo? Can you hear me my son?"

Mikey nodded, his bright pink tongue hanging out of his mouth has the coughs ripped themselves out of his mouth. Although they were rough, the coughing fit didn't seem to give his son as much trouble as the last few times. Splinter took a hand to the child's brow, and to his surprise, it felt slightly cooler than before.

"Masta' Splinter?" a tugging came at the end of Splinter's garment. Looking down, he saw his second eldest staring up at him with wide eyes, "Is Mikey a'right?"

The aging rat smiled down at Raphael. Bending down to pick him up, he simply explained "Although he still is quite sick, I do believe your brother is getting better."

"Really?" Raph whispered excitedly. He took a brief glance at Mikey before he began trying to jump out of his father's arms, "I gotta go tell Leo and Donny!"

"Not now." Splinter said, gripping to his small son "Michaelangelo still needs to sleep as well as your other brothers."

"Aww, ok." Raph pouted, crossing his arms against his plastron.

"Sensay?" Mikey croaked. His voice sounded cracked and raspy, apparent that he hadn't used it very much in the last week.

"Yes my son?"

"M'thirsty." simply stated the five year old.

"I shall go get you some water." Splinter replied, setting Raph on the bed next to Mikey "Sit with your brother please."

After Splinter left the room, Raph looked past the door way for a few moments. He then crawled over to the free space left on the bed, pulled back the covers, and nestled next to his little brother.

"Hey Mikey?"

"Yea?"

"I love ya."