TMNT = Not mine. Had to resubmit this because FF was being bitchy. Sorry bout the inbox spam.

Was going through some of my TMNT stuff and dug this up and decided to share. This was written for a challenge on Terrapin Tarts to develop Splinter into a fully fleshed character that had hobbies other than 'training turtles' and 'sipping tea in the background' in fanfiction. This is just one of the weird things my brain like to chew on, cuz you know, the guys are ninjas. It was also my first attempt to write Splinter seriously. This is also Mirage-verse where the TMNT are raised to fight the Shredder.

There is a medicine box that sits in Splinter's room, hidden beneath various books and scrolls that the rat has collected over his lifetime. His sons do not know its location, but the box is a familiar feature of their childhood, when diseases and illnesses were common. Now its appearance is a far rarer thing, their friendship with April has granted them access to modern medicine and their reliance on herbs and traditional Japanese concoctions has lessened.

But Splinter uses it still, sometimes when his sons are out on their nightly patrols; he dons a disguise and slips off to Chinatown. He keeps the box well-stocked; these trips are a regular occurrence in his life.

For herbs can often serve a dual purpose. A leaf from one plant may heal a particular malady but the root may poison the kidneys or the liver. It may cause a man to fall into a deep sleep for several days or to see things that are not there.

Splinter never mentions these things to his sons. In the rare occurrences when modern medicine fails his sons and he is forced to bring out the box, he gently deflects Donatello's curious questions about what plants he is using and what exactly are the effects on whichever brother is ill or injured.

Sometimes he wonders if they know, or if Donatello at the very least suspects the reason why the medicine box is always freshly stocked with herbs that are never a few weeks old.

When they were younger, it had been so much easier to convince himself to do it. He was raising warriors to avenge his master's death, they would face ninjas in battle.

And poison was a common tool of a ninja.

Small amounts of toxic herbs would be slipped into his children's meals to build up a basic resistance. Not enough to cause them harm, except the occasional upset tummy and those could easily be excused as spoiled food or poor hygiene, they live in a sewer after all. They were too young to understand his motives then but as they grew older he found it harder to bring himself up to mention it. They began take responsibility to see to their own meals but at regular intervals, Splinter would ensure that he was the one preparing the food.

Every time it feels like a betrayal.

He cannot even begin to find the right words to explain himself. It was so easy in the beginning but now he has no idea where to start or why he cannot stop. Whilst he educated his sons most thoroughly about ninja poison, none of them ever thought to question him over its usage personally and why he never took their lessons further. They trust him far too much and he's afraid of what the knowledge might do to that trust.

Sometimes he would dig out the box and stare at it. He wonders if he should teach his sons the traditional remedies. Teach them how to prepare it for those rare cases. It seems prudent, another skill that could possibly keep his sons alive.

But the medicine box is a double-edged blade.

And though he's afraid of the questions that would inevitably come, he sometimes wonders if he should arm his sons with the knowledge of poison.