Before note: Nothing much to say...the title is a play on connect the dots. I also wrote this for my ELA class in a small project.

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT.

The luminescent moon shone still over the ever-restless city of Manhattan, bathing the area in its cool white rays. Stars could be seen accompanying the terrestrial crescent, dotting the inky sky like glitter. They indicated the late arrival of night, showing as how they never left their slowly moving position in the sky. Residents of the town below were going along doing their own things, whether it was sleeping or consuming in other nightly activities. It just came and passed by as another peaceful night of New York.

Even the secretive saviors of the city, four mutant ninja turtles, were getting the perfect rest they deserved in their home below the city in the sewers after a quick patrol above on the rooftops. The unusual family that could not be seen by regular humans were delving into the wonders of the dream-world after being deeply into sleep.

That is, the four turtle brothers were. Their father, a mutant rat, on the other hand, was not.

In the vacant dojo of the sewer lair resided the shoji doors that led to the dark bedroom of the turtles' sensei and father. Occupying the small bed was the owner of the room himself, the tireless rat stirring ever so quietly with light brown eyes closed. Tossing and turning was becoming a hobby at the moment to Master Splinter, the half-awake half-asleep mind he possessed debating on which state it should be in. Unfortunately, at the same time, he wanted to be both asleep and awake, partly due to the amount of exertion he put into with showing some new and extremely difficult katas to his sons that day, and partly due that he was worried about his sons and wanted to check on them.

He was both shocked and proud at the events that his sons informed him of earlier when he and April had returned from a training exercise. Apparently, after returning from a recon mission in a Kraang lab studying arthropods, one of the last surviving eggs containing a mutant wasp came home with them, courtesy of Leonardo, and created chaos consisting of a parasitic virus. His eldest son was the first to be infected and attacked his brothers with the virus as well as infecting them. Michelangelo, his youngest son, almost fell prey to the small outbreak but managed to save his brothers in the nick of time by finishing the rest of the antibody that Donatello originally created. And yet had to come the explaining after a confused outburst escaped the tall rat when he carelessly stepped into a leftover puddle of unknown goo protruded from the death of a newborn wasp.

Master Splinter had to come to the conclusion that he was proud of Michelangelo, very proud indeed. Had he ever been involved into the mess his sons were put into, he would've tried to protect them himself and done everything his youngest son would've done instead if Donatello were to also fall under the control of the wasp. And, just thinking about his sons made his brain more active again.

Thinking about his sons also gave him the much-needed urge to check on them as well. If he couldn't sleep, then he might as well do something that would make him calm enough to get some sleep.

Lifting his body from his horizontal position, he sat up on his bed and stretched, grabbing his green cane resting against the wall beside him. He stood up and walked up to his decorative doors and slowly slid them open, them not making the slightest noise as they ran against the floor. The darkness of the lair filled his vision as he strode silently through the dojo and down the stairs into the common room, then into the small hallway that led to his dearest sons' rooms. The dimness from the closed doors of the four rooms revealed that no activity was being made except sleep. However, Master Splinter wasn't one to be fooled so easily. He knew that at least one of his sons was not doing as he pleased, and he knew exactly who it was.

Turning away from the rooms, he walked out of the hallway and up to the closed door of Donatello's lab. Taking a breath, he knocked a few times, uttering a small "Donatello?" from his lips, but no response was to be signaled to him. He repeated the process a few more times, but only got the same thing in return. Sighing, he gently placed his hand on the door handle and opened ever so carefully, as the metal door always squeaked painfully rubbing against the floor.

His rat-like face slowly peaked in the large workshop, quietly observing the some-lit spot of the room, from the giant canister that held Timothy, the two small pools in the corner that held glowing sewer water, and to the active computer screen that flashed blinding blue light, with a hunched over body sitting still at the desk. Splinter could only guess that it was of course, his smartest son, Donatello. Walking up to him, he took in each detail. Donnie was in fact asleep, lying unconscious at his desk with his face buried into his arms that created a makeshift pillow. His mahogany eyes were closed behind his purple mask, its tails trailing against his shoulders. His lips were slightly open, revealing the gap in his teeth and what looked to be the soon arrival of saliva if his mouth remained open any longer.

Splinter smiled and shook his head once he made it behind his son's chair. This was Donatello's classic sleeping position; the position that always caused the irritation of his older brothers if he were given the order to sleep in a proper bed, and the position that was at fault for his muscles being the stiffest during training, which caused some sudden consequences. Thinking on this, Splinter stared at his son's back for a while, watching as it rose then fell back down slowly in sync with his light breathing.

He placed a paw on Donatello's shoulder and began to shake gently. "Donatello?" He whispered, careful not to disturb his son's rest any further than he already was. His reply came as a soft moan, then a sigh, then the burying of his head further into his arms. Splinter tried again.

"Donatello…wake up, my son." Donnie was at serious deaf ears, too deep into a slumber to feel any presence that would bring him out of it.

That is, until his sensei did something that did cause him to arouse drowsily.

Giving up on his first option to give orders to return to his bed, Master Splinter put a solid grip around his son's waist and under his legs and, using the master ninja strength he possessed, lifted his sleeping son off his chair and rested his tall body against his chest. Timothy's blank, exposed eyes stared curiously at Splinter's actions.

Donatello must've felt the shifting of his position, because another sigh escaped him and his eyes began to open. The half-open brown eyes flew to stare at one thing to another, until they rested on the familiar face of his father smiling down at him. The recognition of his position told him he was being carried bridal style

"M-Master Splinter…?" he whispered raggedly.

Splinter smiled again and brought his third son closer to his chest. "Donatello," he questioned in a comforting tone, "Why are you not in bed?"

It took Donnie a while to answer, as his mind still was befuddled in his past sleep state, but it eventually came out slow and quiet.

"Work…to do…too much, need to finish-"

Master Splinter had heard enough. He shook his head as he interrupted. "No, my son, no more work tonight. You exert yourself too much. You must take time to heal your lost energy and rest. Will you promise your master that you will never continue this routine everyday?"

Donnie did not register Splinter's words and instead cuddled closer to his father, as if he were a scared child seeking comfort in their parent. " Mmmm…" he uttered incoherently, trying to seek warmth in the dark, flower-printed kimono. Splinter smiled once more and nuzzled his nose against the purple clad turtle's forehead.

"Come, my son. It is time for bed."

With the now-sleeping Donnie still in his strong arms, Master Splinter walked out of the dark lab and back into the hallway that held the turtles' bedrooms. Stepping into Donnie's surprisingly clean room, Splinter gently lay the second youngest on his stomach on the bed, proceeding to take off his elbow and knee pads, and finally undid the knot that kept his purple bandanna together. These actions seemed to once again awaken Donnie, who lifted his head from the pillows to look at Splinter.

"Sen…sei…"

Seeing his son strain himself to address Master Splinter made him sad. It reminded him of something, something a long time ago…

"…Da…da…"

Splinter smiled at the one of many new words Miwa was straining to learn, very proud that it got to be his fatherly alias. The baby in his arms squirmed and tried to grab at his lip, but was way too far out of reach

Yoshi kissed the young girl as he lay her in the small Japanese-styled futon that he and Tang Shen made just for her. The young girl's hands were the most active of her body, flying around to try to grab at anything dangling from the aged face that smiled down at her.

"No, Miwa," the man said softly, picking up the baby once again and rocking her gently to calm her down, "It is not time for play. It is time for sleep, my dear." He stroked the small black waves of hair she was already growing. This seemed to calm her down a little more. She stared though sleepy eyes and gave a cute yawn in front of Yoshi's face, causing him to smile. He laid her head on his shoulder and stroked her small, smooth back, cooing her with whispered words to sleep peacefully.

"Rest your mind and sleep, Miwa…"

It only took one blink and a flash before Splinter found himself back in the atmosphere of his son's room. He looked down at Donatello, whose face was buried into his pillow. Splinter found his hand slowly rubbing his brown shell in a soothing manner. It was almost like what he did to Miwa…

…And it perfectly was too. Similar to his daughter, Donnie was easily being driven right into a peaceful sleep caused by Splinter's hands. The quick indication he received that the purple turtle was fully asleep was his now light breathing and his softly closed eyes.

Smiling warmly, he draped the purple blanket over Donatello's shell, then bent down to kiss the back of his son's head. Donnie moaned but did not stir from his deep sleep.

As Splinter walked back to the door, he stopped to stare at the sleeping turtle one last time before saying, "Rest your mind and sleep, Donatello…"

With a sigh, he closed the door quietly with a soft click. He turned around, just in time to face the door across from him. He knew that this room that he now encountered belonged to his most unwary son, Michelangelo, and he felt a bit cautious stepping into that room. Heaven only knew how messy and trashy his youngest son's sanctuary was. However, the fact of wanting to make sure his sons were comfy and resting won his fear over.

On silent steps, he crept right up to the closed door that led to his son's room. Before he put a paw on the handle, a peculiar sound lifted his large ears. He listened carefully…it was coming from the room. A muffled voice could be heard shouting different emotional exclamations.

"Yeah, take that!...No, not the asteroids! Get away from me, GET AWAY!...Woohoo! That'll teach you aliens to mess with Michelangelo, Space Rave player supreme!...Oh, oh no, NO! NOT again!"

Master Splinter had to chuckle at what he was hearing. Ever since Donatello had invented the T-phone, Michelangelo could never put it down, due to the games he downloaded from it.

He continued to listen to his son's ranting all the way up to when he opened the door and stepped in. This did not faze Mikey one bit, for his bright blue eyes, and his attention, were completely glued to the tiny little screen on his phone that lit up his face from the light monitor. His fingers pecked the screen repeatedly as he maneuvered the controls for the game. He was completely oblivious to his father standing right behind him. That is, until Splinter said something that scared the living daylights out of him.

"It must be very addicting, do you not agree?"

"AAACCCCK!"

The T-phone slipped from Mikey's hands when he jumped. Before it could clatter to the floor, he quickly gathered his remaining wits and grabbed it with one quick swipe of the hand. A sheepish grin and an embarrassed giggle accompanied him as he gave a small wave at Splinter. The mutant rat shook his head disapprovingly and smiled.

"Michelangelo, why are you not asleep?"

Had it ever been at the most common of times that Mikey was reluctant to answer a question that indicated the signal of his trouble, where his older brothers usually put the burden of answering Splinter's much awaited question after causing such shenanigans.

And it of course happened this time. Mikey rubbed the back of his neck, mentally panicking as he tried to once again find a lame excuse to present to relieve a least a small portion of the trouble he was in.

"Ummm…funny story, but I doubt you're in the mood for laughing so, I guess I don't have to say it."

Splinter raised his eyebrows in frustrated question

"I may not be in the mood for laughing, but I am definitely in the mood for an explanation. So tell me, my son, the unfunny story of why you are not in bed, and truthfully this time." Busted.

Mikey's blue eyes seemed to dim a little, completely embarrassed by what his next statement was said.

"I…I had a nightmare, okay? I couldn't go back to sleep, so I started gaming a little to help me relax." Sighing, Mikey set his phone down next to his foot and took up a pillow in hand, holding it close to his chest and burying his face in it. Master Splinter stared at his son for a while, feeling pure sympathy for him. The youngest was always known to experience the most terrifying scenes when it came to dreams, which explains the most instances where Splinter would usually find him snuggled tightly under the covers with an older brother the latter's bed to seek comfort, and namely it was Donatello he would find him with.

Splinter took a seat on the bed next to Michelangelo and ran a paw repeatedly over his shell. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No…" came the muffled voice from inside. It wasn't until after a while when he finally decided to speak again. "Shredder and the Foot Clan came into the lair…it was so scary, I-I've never seen so much blood before in my life…" Even through the muffled noises of the pillow the rat sensei could easily hear how his son's voice quivered with the soon arrival of sobs. "The Foot ran into my brothers' rooms while they were sleeping and…killed them." A sniffle. "Then, Shredder…he went into your room and…and he…" Mikey could not go any further, for he had already collapsed in a fit of crying, his face still covered in the pillow.

Splinter stared sadly at his youngest. His heart thudded as another memory flooded into his mind…seeing Michelangelo crying so miserably from a nightmare…it reminded him of…

Yoshi's eyes flew open as he heard the unbearable sound of childish screaming, and it was coming from next to him. Turning his head, he observed the saddening scene. His little Miwa was crying her eyes out, waving her little hands as she tried reaching out for anyone who could get to her.

Yoshi was given the mental knowledge that his daughter must've been interrupted of her sleep with a nightmare. He shook his head sadly as he gently grabbed her from beside him on the bed and held her close to his chest. She continued to cry, grabbing her father's big thumb in her chubby fingers for comfort.

"It is alright, Miwa. Do not cry, dry your tears..."

Blinking, Splinter was once again back in Michelangelo's room. He was mildly surprised by the fact that he was holding his still-sobbing son in his arms in the similar way he held Miwa, not realizing when or how he did this so unconsciously. Blowing off his confused thoughts, he hushed his son and kissed the top of his head, running his paw continuously over his hard shell. Mikey continued to cry however, hugging his father close and snuggling his face in Splinter's robe.

A sudden idea popped into Splinter's head. Whenever his kids would be saddened during their sleep, he would always have a remedy to calm them down.

He set his son down from his lap and lay him down on the bed, pulling his blankets up to his chest. Mikey had stopped whining, but his tears never ceased their continuous flow, trailing down the sides of his blue eyes like soft waterfalls. Splinter knelt beside the bed and stroked Mikey's forehead, staring into his eyes deeply.

"Michelangelo," he said, "Do you know the lullaby I have always sung to you when you were little, then have passed it on to Donatello?"

Mikey gave a feeble nod. "Uh huh," he replied, his voice high, "I want Donnie…to sing it to me…Sensei…where's Donnie? I want my brother." It broke Splinter's heart to hear his youngest son cry out for the comfort of his older brother, looking like a lost little sad child trying to find it's family. Ever since he had taught Donatello his lullaby years ago, his intelligent son had become quite the master of it and had sung it many times to Mikey, even at their current age. Michelangelo must have gotten so used to Donnie doing it that he didn't realize how his brother acquired it in the first place.

Master Splinter rubbed one of his thumbs soothingly on Mikey's forehead. "No, my son," he whispered gently, "Donatello cannot come to you tonight. He is sleeping. I however, am not. Would you like to hear the song from me instead?"

Nodding his head vigorously, Mikey snuggled closer to his blankets and waited patiently for his father to start the song.

Setting himself back up on the bed, the tall rat smiled down at Michelangelo and soon began to sing. Just like Donatello, his voice was soft and sweet, so sweet that it felt to Mikey as if he were floating peacefully on a cloud. His eyes almost closed instantly, the song always made him feel so sleepy.

When Splinter blinked again, hard, he found himself again back in Miwa's room. He was sat up next to the baby herself, his hand rubbing softly against her little forehead. He couldn't hold back a smile when he saw her expression, her eyes closed softly and a tiny smile spread on her face. Yoshi realized that his lips were moving in a sing-song manner. He was singing his lullaby to Miwa.

Something surged through his body when he bent a little forward, and he was once again in his son's room. His lullaby had ended. A grin formed on his face when he noticed that Michelangelo had finally fallen asleep, his tear stains dry on the sides of his face, his expression the same as his little Miwa. Bending even more forward to get level with his head, Master Splinter kissed his youngest son gently on the forehead and rubbed the spot with his finger.

"Good night, Michelangelo."

The tall rat-like sensei stood up and slowly walked out of the room. With one final glance at his fourth son, he smiled and quietly closed the door behind him.