I was violently ill with the flu over the holidays, as was my significant other. We pretty much had to take it in turns, with whoever feeling less crappy at any particular moment caring for the other. It was awful and at one point involved me going to the hospital for tests-thank goodness it was, in the end, nothing. I binge watched the 2012 TMNT series during this time, and wrote the first part of this, needing some angst and fluff in my life to drive away the feelings of impending death ,. I just now finished it, and I really hope you like reading it. Enjoy.

Exhaustion.

In a word, that was Donatello at this point. He had been awake for 17 hours, and even then had only slept for about three hours. But Leonardo's fever was raging, Michelangelo hadn't been able to leave the bathroom as he puked every few minutes, and Raphael was coughing so much he could barely breathe. In between tending to them, Donnie worked practiced his techniques solo, cleaned the dojo and the rest of the lair, and worked endlessly in his lab on how to stop the Kraang's mutagen, and studying the movement of Shredder and the Foot. That was how this had all started; the brothers had been on a mission taking down a clan of Foot. The mission had been a success, but in the process Leo, Raph, and Mikey had been toppled into a freezing river. The three turtles had been ill for a two days, the dunk in the river manifesting in various flu-like symptoms. Since Splinter had travelled on a training mission with April, and Donnie refused to ask for Casey's help, it was up to the purple, bo-staff wielding ninja to be nurse and mother to his ailing family.

After Leo was laden with another thick blanket, Donnie saw to Raph. The strongest of the four had been laid low, and was coughing viciously and shaking. He had given up refusing help and was meek and mild. That in itself was scary enough.

"Am I...d-dying?" he croaked in between coughs. Donnie rolled his eyes, but smiled gently.

"No, bro," he said, pouring some cough medicine onto a spoon and forcing it into Raph's tightly clenched mouth. Raph grimaced, but the cooling sensation of the medicine soothed his next cough to be a little softer and less wracking. "You'll feel better by tomorrow. It's just a little bug." Raph looked pathetically tearful, but closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Donnie's soft smile faded. He didn't want to worry his ailing brother, but Raph was actually fiercely sick. They all were. But Donnie was also telling the truth; by his calculations, they would be better in the morning, as the symptoms were lessening and these things tended to fizzle out after 48 hours. Donnie tucked Raph in and went and saw to Mikey.

"How're you feeling?" asked Donnie, rubbing his tired brown eyes as he peered at Mikey, whose head was hanging low in the toilet bowl.

"...blorg," was all Mikey could manage.

"You gonna be sick again?"

A few minutes of silence passed. Donnie took it for a no, for now at least. He scooped up his youngest brother and put him in his bed. Mikey was very dehydrated, so Donnie heated up some thin broth and slowly fed it to Mikey, who was completely silent. Mikey managed to keep it down but it was slow, and it took almost another hour before he was done. Donnie placed a bucket near Mikey's bed, just in case, and bid his brother goodnight.

"Blorg..." was the only feeble reply.

After checking on Leo one last time, touching the eldest brother's forehead and feeling it was slightly cooler to the touch, Donnie finally went to his room. He caught up on some much-backlogged research on Kraang's own reaction to mutagen DNA, ignoring the pressure building in between his eyes, and finally, after nearly 19 hours, crawled into bed. He pulled his thin blanket up (he'd given his quilt to Leo) up around his shoulders, and lay flat on his shell, practicing some deep breathing Master Splinter had taught him to calm his frazzled nerves. After a final deep breath, feeling more relaxed, Donnie succumbed to the exhaustion that had been looming over him all day.

Leo rose like a zombie into a sitting position, rubbing his head. He was parched, but he saw a glass of water perched on his bedside table. He couldn't remember much, but images of green and purple looming over him, with cool towels and extra blankets, hazed in and out of his minds' eye. He looked at the glass of water.

Donnie, he thought, smiling to himself.

He drank the water quickly and stood up. He was a bit woozy but felt otherwise okay. His stomach rumbled and he walked, carefully testing his steps, to the kitchen. There he found Raph, a blanket wrapped around his shell and a bowl of oatmeal in front of him, eating heartily.

"Hey Raph," Leo said quietly, having a seat at the counter. His voice was coming back to him little by little. Raph looked as tired as Leo felt, but was shoving spoonfuls of oatmeal in his mouth at breakneck speed,

"Hmeey Mreo," he mumbled. Leo thought the oatmeal smelled good, so put the kettle on and emptied three packages of instant oatmeal into three bowls. Raph, he noticed, had not been as thoughtful. He must be feeling better.

"How are you feeling?" Leo asked, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Raph looked up and wiped his mouth free of remaining specks of oats.

"Tired, but good. Not coughing as much," he shrugged. "I can't really remember much...I think I actually coughed up a lung yesterday...or...was it the day before..." He pondered, pulling the blanket in further around him. He coughed a little and Leo heard that it was the remnants of something fierce.

"Sounds rough, dude," he said, pouring out the steaming water into the bowls. He stirred his, and the smell of maple and brown sugar curled around him like a warm hug. After the first mouthful, he felt even more strength return. Mikey came slowly around the corner, clutching his stomach, looking pale.

"Pizza..." he moaned.

"Here," Leo slid a bowl towards his littlest brother, who caught it and looked disgusted.

"Pizza!" he demanded, more firmly.

"Yeah, no," said Leo, eating more. "I may not remember much over the past few days but I know I heard you puking like a champ. A lot."

"Exactly!" Mikey groaned. "I haven't had pizza in my system for two days. TWO DAYS! It's a crime against turtlekind, I tell you!"

Leo gave him a harsh look. His head was still in no mood for yelling. Raph gave him a gentle clobber over the head, and gestured to the stool for him to sit down and shut up. Mikey sighed, but plopped down and had a spoonful of his mushy breakfast. He didn't want to admit it, but it made him feel better, his freckled cheeks gaining a more natural colour.

The three ate in silence as the fourth bowl went cold. Leo had some juice and looked at his two brothers, still trying to piece together the events of the past two days.

"So...what...happened?" he finally asked. Mikey half-shrugged.

"I dunno...I remember on Saturday we went and kicked Foot butt!" he said with an accompanying fist pump. Leo thought hard, and did indeed remember that.

"Then...I think...we were by the inlet in the harbour," Raph said, thinking hard. "All that construction, the Kraang were trying to build something..."

"Yeah, yeah!" said Mikey excitedly. "But we distracted 'em, remember? We lured them to the edge of the dock and Donnie let that crane holding those pipes go and it knocked them into the..."

"River," Leo finished his sentence as the three came to realize that they had been knocked in too. Mikey shivered as he remembered the encompassing ice entering his body through his nose and mouth. As turtles, swimming was no problem, but that cold...that cold was vicious.

"All I can remember after that is being in bed," said Raph. "And...Donnie...he took care of me."

"Me too," piped up Mikey.

"And me," said Leo. Thanks to Donnie's ministrations, the three would live to fight another day. Each turtle felt a deep-rooted appreciation for their brother.

"So...where is he?" asked Mikey. Leo looked at the now stone-cold oatmeal, just a bowl of anappealing sludge.

"My guess is sleeping," he said. "He was probably tired after taking care of us on his own. I barely even knew what was happening to me, let alone you guys. I just know we were all out of it."

"Should we wake him?" Raph looked at the hallway leading to Donnie's room. Leo scraped the bowl's contents into the bin, and shrugged.

"Let's let him sleep in, huh?" he said. The others agreed and went to watch some TV. After continuing to rest for the remainder of the morning, each one felt immensely better. Raph and Mikey were back at each other's nerves, and Leo was enjoying the post-fever feeling of his muscles being relaxed. Soon it was lunch, though, and there was still no sign of the smartest turtle.

"I think I'm gonna go check on Don," said Leo, feeling a pang of concern. It wasn't like Donnie to sleep so much, but maybe he was on his computer. Mikey and Raph asked to come to, but Leo shook his head. They could stay and watch cartoons, which they were all too happy about.

Leo went to the kitchen and made a sandwich for Donnie. He must be hungry. Leo walked down the hall and knocked on Donnie's door. "Don?" he asked after clearing his throat. "You in there bro?" There was no reply. Leo didn't want to violate Don's privacy, but the feeling of concern was beginning to tighten and hurt Leo's recovering muscles. He knocked and called one more time, but silence was the only thing that came to the door. Slowly, Leo turned the handle and opened the door.

Donnie was sprawled out on the floor, having fallen gracelessly out of bed, his face sideways in some dried vomit. Leo could hear his ragged breathing. He dropped the plate and sandwich with a clatter and ran to his brother's side.

"Mikey, Raph, get in here!" he yelled, turning Donnie over. He cradled the purple masked turtle's head in the crook of his elbow and gently slapped his cheek. Donnie's skin was hot to the touch. Mikey and Raph arrived just as Donnie black-ringed eyes creased open. He tried to speak but the air flow was constricted by thick-sounding phlegm. Leo looked at the vomit soaked bed.

"Help me get him to the couch!" he ordered. Raph grabbed under Donnie's legs and Leo took him under the armpits, with Mikey holding the door, and they carried the limp form of Donnie to the living room. They placed him on the couch carefully but he still moaned with discomfort.

"What's wrong with him?" Mikey asked. Donnie, eyes closed once more, began hacking right at that moment, too weak to lift his hand to cover his mouth. Leo ran and grabbed a clean dish rag from the kitchen and dampened it, and came back to wipe away the dried vomit that stuck to Donnie's cheek. Raph had pulled the blanket from his own shell and thrown it, rather haphazardly, over his brother. Leo attempted to straighten it, but Donnie fussed and began tossing and turning, groaning all the while.

"Shh, Don, can you hear me?" Leo said, trying to calm him. "It's just us...you're okay...you're gonna be alright..."

Something Leo said must have reached Donnie, as he finally relaxed. Leo straightened the blanket while Mikey kept dabbing Donnie's forehead with the cool cloth. Raph, looking at a complete loss for what to do, held Donnie's hand awkwardly in a rare display of outward affection.

"What do we do?" Mikey's voice was quivering with panic. "He's burning up!" Leo recognized the fever that had plagued him for two days. Donnie mumbled in his sleep and gave a seizing cough again.

"He's having trouble breathing..." Raph said, rubbing his own throat.

"Coughing...fever..." Leo put a finger to his chin. "Looks like he got the worst of what we had, both at once."

"What about the puking? I couldn't STOP puking. It was kinda impressive, actual-"

"Shut up, Mikey!" snapped Raph. They stared at Donnie, who had gone slightly limp, and waited a few moments. Leo sighed with relief.

"That puke in his room was already dry. I think the worst of it is ov-"

Donnie's eyes shot open, his pupils tiny dots surrounded by bloodshot white. He lurched forward and attempted a run for the bathroom.

"Donnie, no!" the others cried, but Donnie didn't make it far. He stumbled, crashing sideways into a wall, and hunched over on his knees, where they heard the telltale retching. Mikey grimaced and clutched his stomach, remembering all to well as waves of queaziness washed over him.

"Ugh...okay, Mikey, help me move him back here, then go get a bucket. Raph, go clean that up," Leo rubbed his temple, trying to think straight. What to do next? Donnie was so much better at this sort of thing than him.

"Great," Raph mumbled bitterly, unable to check his displeasure at the thought of mopping up expelled stomach contents, "thanks a lot, Don..." His sarcasm was cut short though, as the sound of Donnie groaning as Mikey helped him into a sitting position stopped him. He had a look of pity flash over his face, before he shot a worried look at Leo and dashed off to get a mop. Leo went and helped Mikey move their half-conscious brother back to the couch. Mikey ran and got a bucket, and kept applying the cold cloth. Leo fussed over what to do.

"Okay...bucket, yes, cloth, good...but...do we put a warmer blanket on him, he's shivering like crazy? No, I don't want him to get any hotter...Mikey, where does he keep all the cough meds? Ugh but that might upset his stomach more...should we try and get some food in him? Who am I kidding, that'll make it worse, and he's not even awake!" Leo grabbed both sides in his head with frustration. He was the leader, but in this moment, he felt useless and lost.

"Bro, whadda we do?" Mikey practically pleaded, as Leo paced and rubbed his temples. Raph finished his unpleasant task and joined the rest.

"Leo, c'mon!" he urged.

"Aah I don't know!" Leo snapped. "Donnie's always the ones to take care of us! And if he's sick, Master Splinter takes care of him..."

"Guess we should've paid more attention to Master Splinter showing us how," said Mikey sadly, thinking back to their childhoods. Donnie would stand by Splinter's side as his brother's ailed, learning how to check temperatures and calm a fever, what to feed someone with a bad stomach, how to ease a headache. When Donnie was sick, the others would, knowing Splinter would make him better, go and play games. Guilt clutched each of their stomachs as Donnie now muttered in his feverish dreams, each one not quite knowing what to do. Leo looked at Donnie with sorrow, his tall brother's gangly limbs contorted under the blanket as he tried to squeeze out the pain of his stomach cramps. Leo closed his eyes, determined. Donnie was always there for him, and now they would be there for Donnie. They couldn't stand by and do nothing for fear of doing it wrong. Something, anything, had to be done.

"Okay, guys. We can do this. Mikey, go get a glass of water and some plain advil. Raph, go and get a clean pillow, a towel, and the spare quilt from the cupboard." The brothers dashed off obediently while Leo propped Donnie up into a sitting position, despite his groaned protests, and gently tapped his cheek to bring him out of his feverish stupor.

"Donnie...Donnie listen to me..." Leo spoke quietly but firmly, trying to hide the quiver of uncertainty in his voice. Donnie's eyes opened halfway, glazed and unfocused, but he managed to look at Leo. "We're gonna sort you out, or try to at least, but you have to tell me what hurts the most, okay?"

Donnie swayed but Leo held him by his shoulders. He closed his eyes again but managed to murmur "..st...stomach hurts...and..dizzy..."

"Dizzy? Why? What do we do to fix that?!" Leo asked, becoming mildly frantic at the sound of this worrisome new symptom.

"...d...dehydrat..ed," the sickly turtle gasped.

"Okay, good!" Leo said as Mikey returned to his side with water and pills, looking confused. "No, not like...good...but now we know this will help!" Leo kept one arm behind his brother's shell to keep him upright, and used his other hand to bring the glass of water to Donnie's lips. Donnie didn't even try to take the glass himself, his weak arms shaking. like his whole body. After he managed a few small gulps, Leo put two small capsules of advil, that April had bought for them a while ago, into his brother's mouth and helped him drink again. Leo figured the advil would generally soothe most of Donnie's symptoms involving pain. It seemed that as the cool water slid down Donnie's raked throat it offered some relief, as Donnie sighed and slipped back into a half-sleep with a slightly less wrought expression on his face.

Raph slipped a pillow with a clean pillowcase on it under Donnie's back, and another under his head. Leo tenderly lay him back down, so he was comfortably rested but the slightly-upright position was easier on his lungs and stomach. Donnie coughed and moaned, but it seemed less painful than before. Leo placed the quilt over the shivering frame of his brother, knowing it was not too thick to keep up the fever but it was still warm enough to keep the horrible sensations of freezing at bay. With the blanket pulled up to Donnie's shoulders, rising and falling with the turtle's heavy breaths, Leo ran to his room. He grabbed the thermometer, the one that only the day before Donnie had used on him, and came back. He placed it in Donnie's mouth and waited for a reading.

"Is he gonna be okay now?" Mikey's voice was riddled with worry. Raph was unusually quiet. The thermometer beeped and Leo gawked at the number. 103, which even Leo knew, for a semi-cold blooded creature, was particularly high.

"We have to wait and see," said Leo. He pushed the button on the thermometer, wiping the little screen clean, and wishing he could wipe the heat from Donnie with such ease. He smiled at his littlest bother, whose light blue eyes were shining with tears. "He'll need a lot of help from us, okay bro?" Mikey nodded, and refreshed the cool cloth and pressed it to Donnie's cheek and neck, finally resting it on his forehead.

"Leo," Raph finally spoke, pulling the leader to one side by his elbow while Mikey tended to Donnie carefully, "we need to contact Splinter." Leo thought about it for a moment before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know, but we can't," he furrowed his brow in frustration. Master Splinter would, of course, know exactly what to do. But there was no way. He and April had gone off the grid completely, immersing themselves in April's all-important training. He looked at Raph seriously.

"Look...I know he's really sick, but if he can take care of three of us, the three of us can take care of him. We owe it to him." Leo suddenly thought about how, although he was often looked over in terms of strength or fighting technique, Donnie did more for the team than any of them. Raph seemed to share the sentiment as his face was contemplative, but he looked into Leo's eyes with a strange look, a mix of sadness and solemnity and warning.

"We'll give it our all, Leo," his voice was gravelly, "but it's on you if we can't help him."

"We can do it. I'll take the first watch."

The boys took it in shifts to watch and care for Donnie as best they could, all through the night and into the next morning. They tried to monitor what symptom was affecting him the most, and focus on that. However their best intentions, it was a struggle, with them having to shake Donnie into conciousenss to ask how much cough syrup was safe to take, if mixing advil and stomach pills was safe, did he need another blanket. Donnie was practically incoherent. He managed to stammer through a few answers, but then his only response was jibbering or moaning or the same "blorgs" that Mikey had previously spoken.

"I...where's the...half...Sensei..." Donnie babbled, his head lolling as Raph held him by his shoulders, trying to ask where he kept the hot water bottles. Raph and the others cursed themselves. Donnie knew, through instinct, what was wrong with them when they were sick, and through practice knew how to ease their ailments. Raph, Leo, and Mikey felt waves of profound guilt for their selfishness wash over them everytime they had to ask Donnie how to help himself.

"Donnie, come on, man, you're skin is ice cold!" Raph was frustrated and it showed in his voice. Donnie had been burning up a minute ago and now his skin was covered in cold sweat. If Raph hadn't been so scared, he would have been annoyed. Raph turned, still holding Donnie upright, as he heard crashing coming from the kitchen, and even Donnie's bleary eyes slitted open for a moment at the cacophanous noise. Mikey emerged from the kitchen, pots and pans still tumbling out of the cupboard, but he grinned as he triumphantly clutched the water bottle after extracting it messily from its hiding place.

"Got it!" he cried, waving it in front of Raph's face. Raph channeled his frustration onto Mikey.

"Idiot!" he barked. "I can't do anything with it empty! Go fill it up with boiling water!" Mikey's lip turned out in a pout at his brother's snappish behaviour, but he suddenly grimaced and pointed. Raph turned back, his hands around Donnie's shoulders, as Donnie heaved with a pained face. Yellowish bile, all that was in his stomach, splashed out of his mouth and down the front of his plastron, and pooled in his blanketed lap.

"Ah!" yelped Raph. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey dashing towards the kitchen again, saying something about starting the kettle. Raph rolled his eyes, but then looked pityingly at his younger brother. Bile dribbled out of his slack mouth and down his chin.

"Alright, come on," he said, surprisingly gently, as he hoisted Donnie into a standing position and pulled one of his arms around his shoulder. Slowly, with Donnie groaning with every laboured movement, Raph half-carried, half-dragged him to the bathroom. Leo was coming out, after washing up after his last shift watching Donnie. He looked at the pair and held in an exhausted sigh before grabbing Donnie's other limp arm and wrapping it around his own shoulder and helping Raph carry him into the shower. They rested him on the cool floor of the tub and turned on the water. Raph held Donnie's head as Leo sprayed him. They water was cold at first and Donnie shrieked, his eyes shooting open before he had a severe coughing fit as the icy chill wracked his lungs, but it soon became lukewarm and he calmed down, huffing to catch his breath.

"How are you feeling?" asked Raph, being as quiet as he could over the sound of the spraying water. Donnie looked up at him with darkly ringed eyes that were wet with tears.

"Am I...d-dying?"

Raph, much to his own surprise, felt a lump in his throat. "No, bro," his voice quivered, "you'll feel better by tomorrow. It's just a little bug." Donnie, his face splashed with water droplets, sweat, and his own tears, managed a tiny smile before closing his eyes. The two eldest brothers wiped him clean with a towel and carried him back to the couch. Mikey tucked a fresh, steaming water bottle, wrapped in a tea towel, under the blanket to keep away the chills. Donnie sighed, and for the first time in almost two days looked slightly more comforted. The others sat or stood around him and watched him sleeping. He murmured, feverishly, but it was barely above a whisper. Leo placed a hand on his forehead, and felt it was hot, but less so than before. It seemed the cold shower had helped a little. Donnie's breathing continued to deepen and even, until they were sure he was fast asleep. There was a long silence, which was broken not by the eldest, strongest, or wisest of them, but by the youngest.

"You guys, we are terrible," Mikey said quietly. His voice was devastatingly serious and plain, and didn't even sound like his normal self. Leo stared coldly down, and clenched his jaw. He wasn't angry. He agreed. It seemed Raph did as well, his hands balling into fists at his side. Mikey continued. "He always takes care of us. Always. And we let him down." On the last word his voice cracked, and tears swelled in his eyes. Mikey sniffed and wiped his cheeks and nose.

"He's gonna be okay now," Raph said, almost in protest, so he could avoid feeling the same as his brothers although he couldn't do anything but. "He's over the worst of it..."

"That may be true," said Leo, wrapping an arm around Mikey, whose face was buried in his hands by now, "but Mikey's right. That was pathetic. Three of us, and we could barely handle what to do? Whenever we were sick as kids, Donnie was there. We weren't there for him and never learned, and between the three of us now we didn't even know where the hot water bottle was. He cleaned up our puke and never complained, like we did. He knew how to make us feel like we weren't dying without having to ask us. Us waking him up all the time in a panic when he needs rest is dishonourable. Splinter would be ashamed of us. Donnie may be on the mend, but he deserved better."

"Well, let's give it to him now," said Raph, almost fiercely. He pulled up an extra pillow from the other side of couch. He knelt on it, as he would in front of Master Splinter, with reverence and respect. The others grabbed pillows and extra blankets from their rooms, and formed a nest at Donnie's bedside. They assumed the same position with a grim determination. They would all stay by his side, as he had through theirs, for as long as it took to see him well again.

Splinter and April quietly entered the lair, early in the morning, feeling refreshed and spiritually full. The lair was completely dark and silent. Odd, thought Splinter.

"They're still asleep?" he mused. "They should be up and training, at least..."

"I guess without you around, they wanted to sleep in," April said, winking. Splinter stroked his long beard, but a slight smile played on his face. He supposed they were teenagers, after all.

The pair walked forward towards the living room, carrying their travel satchels. They said nothing, but as they rounded the corner, both of them caught their breaths. A dim light from the TV, which was on but muted, cast itself over the four turtles.

Donnie was laying on the couch, propped up almost into a sitting position, awake. His eyes were fever bright and even from a distance, he looked exhausted and pale. April and Splinter hurried forward, mouths open, about to express notions of concern, but Donnie smiled and weakly lifted a finger to his mouth in a shhing motion. The girl and the rat master stopped in their tracks and looked in confusion at the rest of the scene before them.

Leo, Raph, and Mikey were sprawled on the floor next to the couch in a tangle of pillows and blankets. Each one was snoring slightly and Mikey, who was somehow upside down with his legs swung over Donnie's, drooled.

"They're sleeping," Donnie rasped, but his face was mildly amused. He had awoken a few hours ago to his brother's attempted vigil, but try as they might sleep had claimed them some time before. But Donnie had known in that moment why they were there, and had smiled.

"Donnie," April stepped foward and put a hand on his forehead, making Donnie blush. It was slightly warm. "What happened here?"

"Are you alright my son?" pressed Splinter, concerned, also stepping to his young son's side, careful not to step on Leo's hand.

"I am, now," Donnie sat up a little more, wincing a bit. He explained the events of the encounter with the Foot, and the subsequent illness of his brothers and then how he had become even more ill with the worst of it. Even now he was weak, but the worst had indeed passed.

"I can't really remember much," he admitted in between Raph's racous snores. "I think I puked all over myself more than once...and from what I heard my fever was pretty high. It...well...it hurt." April and Splinter could see that, as he looked like he had indeed been through the wringer.

"They should have called us!" said April, waving her shell phone.

"I think they thought they wouldn't be able to reach you," Donnie shrugged as much as his sore body would allow. Master Splinter shook his head.

"We were very remote in our spiritual training, but there is always a way to reach us. Leonardo could have accessed us through meditation."

"Or you could have called Casey to help," April suggested, to which Donnie frantically shook his head.

"No, no way!" he stammered. "Not Casey!"

"But you were so very ill, Donatello," insisted Splinter. "It could have been dangerous." At this, Donnie smiled again.

"Actually, Sensei," he said, looking down at the jumbled pile of his sleeping brothers, who had sat devotedly by him all night, yawning himself, "even though I can't remember, I always felt safe. I was in very good hands." He nodded at his father and April, who lay him back down and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He soon dozed off, and the four brother's breathing matched each other, and they all smiled in their sleep.

Epilogue

Master Splinter got the rest of the details from his other sons. He decided that, yes, they had perhaps taken Donatello for granted, and as soon as he was healthy enough, they were to take lessons on basic medical assistance, to which they all adamantly agreed. However, Splinter also told them their devotion to their brother in his time of need, even if they were unprepared, was honourable and indeed, admirable. Each acknowledged their flaws, and vowed to be better brothers, for all of their sakes.

It was a happy dinner that night, with April and Casey bringing loads of groceries to the lair, and of course, large, fresh, hot pizza. Mikey graciously offered Donnie the biggest slice, and although Donnie politely refused (he elected to stick to tea and light broth so as to be easy on his stomach, which Leo duly noted as his first lesson) he appreciated the kind gesture. Raph remade Donnie's bed with clean sheets and the turtles, Master Splinter, Casey, and April, helped him to bed so he could properly rest. It was with a feeling of profound love and gratitude that Donnie drifted off, feeling better than he had in days.

He was almost completely asleep, after listening to his father and April and Casey leave, when he felt, in quick succession, three kisses on his forehead.