Splinter never let his eyes wandered anywhere but the screen of the television, where his favorite soap opera was being aired, but his ears picked up more than just the sound of the TV. Even when barricaded from the rest of the lair, the garage still made more noise than they could tolerate, even worse when Raphael and Donatello were at it. The old rat sighed in defeat. Perhaps a lecture about courtesy for those two might be in order, yet Splinter suppressed that idea almost immediately. They were having a time of their lives, who was he to interrupt them? No, he wouldn't do that, not when he knows that they are inseparable...

:::

Ten years ago...

Leo and Mikey were already in their shared bedroom, no doubt to try out a new game the youngest just invented, leaving a grumpy Raphael and a willing Donatello to help their master with the dishes. Splinter just shook his head as he observed his short-tempered son wiped a dish in a most careless manner before handing it over to the genius to rinse. Without a word, the wise rodent reached over their heads and retrieved the piece of porcelain, giving it back to Raphael with a hard glare, forcing the tot to clean it properly again. It was their turn washing dishes and Splinter would see to it that everything was spotless.

He returned to his seat by the dining table and watched his sons in amusement. Donatello was following his example and would scold his brother whenever he detected a stain left uncleaned. Raphael was just being himself and argued back that he cleaned everything, but then would accept the dirty dish without harboring any hard feeling. Splinter was about to let his eyes slid shut in his enjoyment of some tea, when a crashing noise startled him.

- Donnie! - Raphael shouted, and he was by his sons in a flash.

Donatello was holding out a trembling hand, his face shining with a thin layer of sweat. Broken pieces of a dish scattered under his tiny feet.

- Now look at this mess! - Raphael reprimanded him - I ain't cleaning this up.

Splinter realized that he was the only one who noticed the difference. Putting a hand on his emerald son's shoulder to quiet him, he sat down so he was eye-level with Donatello.

- My son, are you not feeling well?

- My... my tummy feels funny, daddy - Came the weak reply, as the color started to fade from his face.

- We had the same dish for dinner, did you eat anything else? - Splinter asked, feeling Donatello's temperature with his hand.

- I... I didn't. I ate everything like you told us.

Splinter quickly looked into the trash bin, where not much of the leftover was kept. The stench invading his nose almost made him step back, but he ignored it and gave the content a good examination. None of his sons skipped any part of the meal that he gave them, but only his intellectual one had any sign of...

- Raphael, help me carry your brother to my room! Donatello is having food poisoning.

- He's just pretending so he can skip washing dishes - Raph argued.

- Do you see your brother in pain, my son? - Splinter frowned motioning a hand toward Don - Are you implying that he's a liar?

The olive green tot was doing his best not to curl into a ball on his two shaky legs, but his face was crunched due to the pain. Raphael stared at his younger brother for a moment, before realizing the truth and dropped everything to rush to his brother. Splinter could easily scoop the small turtle into his arms, but Raphael had forced Don to lean his whole body onto his little emerald shoulder. Together they both staggered toward the shoji doors, where Splinter stored their supply, along with his own belonging before he became a mutated rat.

- Come and lie down on your back, my son - Splinter instructed.

While Raphael stayed close to keep his brother calm, the wise rat rummaged through his belonging and came back with treatment.

- What is that, daddy? - Raph asked, pointing at the little green bottle in his hand.

- This one is just simply medical oil from my country, mostly use for light illness - He explained - Raphael, I'd like you to apply some of this oil to your brother's stomach while I examine him. Remember to massage it gently, alright?

The emerald tot nodded vigorously before accepting the small green bottle. Sat down above Donatello's head, he measured the vital signs while observing his other son. The olive green mutant had forced his face to stretch out despite the pain, just to give his brother a reassuring look. Raphael was very rough with the dishes, but his hands moved ever so gently over his brother's tummy, pressing down to keep it warm. Splinter would only hope that their mutant body would not reject the medicine's effect. Retrieving the bottle, Splinter motioned for Donatello to flip onto his plastron, but then, his hands became hesitated.

- What's wrong, daddy? What do we do next? - Raph urged him - He's still hurting.

- I... I only used this method on human, but never on you before - Splinter admitted - It require applying oil on the back of the patient, but the shell on you four is now blocking the way.

- But we have to do something, daddy! Look at him!

The heat effect in the oil was no doubt doing wonder to the pain Donatello was suffering, since his breathe had become more regular and his hands had stopped shaking, but it wasn't enough to fully cure him. The tot still resist from curling due to the pain. Licking his lips, Splinter poured some oil over his finger and massaged it just a bit behind the olive green shoulder. Raphael had moved to sit next to his father, biting his lower lip and looking up to him expectantly.

- Would you like to help massaging your brother with me? - Splinter asked, noticing the gaze his son was giving him.

The short-tempered turtle didn't need to be told twice. He nearly snapped the bottle from his father's hand and started mimicking what Splinter was doing. His small fingers moved in the precise manner that mutated hand of a rat could not. But it was only to prepare for the next step.

- The oil was not sufficient to heal your brother, Raphael, so now you must do exactly as I do in order to expel the poison inside him. Here! - He handed to his son a small coin, while holding out another one - These coins are made of silver, known for its ability to purify the body and to guard against evil. If you can, my son, copy what I'm about to do.

Raph wasn't hesitated to reach out to the hand that Splinter used to press the side of the coin down to Donatello's shoulder, where the oil was spread. He moved the coin ever so slowly outward, with pressure enough not to hurt his son. Raphael's mouth was a thin line as he felt his father's force and he started doing his best to duplicate the movement on Donatello's other shoulder, his blazing eyes fixed upon his brother's form.

Splinter felt a chuckle rose to his chest, but he would save it for later. Not just too long ago they were still bickering about trifle things such as cleaning, but when his brother fell ill, Raphael immediately went into protector mode and the old rodent believed it would be unwise to leave him out of caring for his brother. Donatello perked up from where he was lying, whispered:

- Sorry Raphie... I-I broke that dish...

- Zip it, dummy! - Raphael snapped - I'm trying ta concentrate here. Ya were sick, ok? I'll take the punishment for ya later.

- There will be no punishment, my son - Splinter gently stroke his son's head with his free hand - You've performed admirably. All you have to do now is to focus on helping your brother.

A faint red line had started to form where they kept carving onto the olive green shoulder. Splinter motioned his son to stop and moved up to lightly pinch on the line, causing it to turn dark red and producing a small yelp from his ill child.

- Yikes! Dad! What are you doing? - Raphael cried before Donatello could.

- I'm extracting the poison, my son. The dark red color here is the bad blood which represents what's causing your brother pain. It will fade and he will start running in no time.

It was true. The face of his intellectual son was returning to its original green color, and Raphael breathed out in relief.

- Do not rest yet, my son. This method only to prevent the poison from spreading into the body. Donatello needs to rid himself of its source in order to fully heal. He can do that by vomiting... or the other way around.

A light flush washed over Raphael's face, but he was more concern of his brother's health. He lied down flat on his plastron in front of Donatello:

- Guess yer stomach ain't as good as us. Oh well, can't help it. Ya need me ta pull yer throat so ya can spill it out?

- I... I think I can spew it out on my own, but thanks for the offer.

- Nah, we're bros, ain't we?

Seeing the light in Raphael's eyes as he gently patted his brother's health, Splinter felt his lips curve upward. Donatello was far from fully cure unless he vomit all what he ate, not to mention the recovery after that, but right now, the brightness of his face bear no sign of the pain he had to endure just a moment ago...

:::

Present time...

- Hey! Would it kill you guys if, I don't know, YOU GUYS PIPE DOWN JUST A LITTLE? - Michelangelo yelled from the second floor.

His words fell on deaf ears, since the noise didn't dissipate even at a slightest. Oh well, the hothead and the genius sons of his went along well was one thing, however they need to respect their family as well. Perhaps the lecture was indeed required after all, but for now, he would let them going at it to their heart's content. After all, the soundproof bluetooth headphone of Donatello was made for him just for this occasion only, and he could think of no better opportunity to use it...