The Road to Shell
INSPIRATION: A Teen Titans story my sister wrote a reeeeaaaaallly long time ago called "Starve a Cold". So thanks, Lihau! XD
DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, I wouldn't be writing FAN fiction, now would I? Oh, and the turtles are supposed to be about eight or nine here. Enjoy!
Hamato Splinter sighed in relief as he closed the manhole above him, blocking all sunlight from the dank sewers he now called home. Trips to the surface—even in the old hat and trench coat he was currently wearing—always made him nervous, and had he been alone, he probably wouldn't have kept risking his life by going up there so often.
But he wasn't alone. He hadn't been alone for years. He had four young sons to take care of, all of whom constantly required fresh food, clean water, warm blankets and other supplies to stay healthy.
Currently, Splinter was working to fulfill the first of these needs.
The large rat kept a tight hold on the warm pizza boxes in his paws as he made the short trek back to the burrow where his sons were (hopefully) awaiting his return. He had only been gone for an hour, but Splinter was more than confident that that was enough time for the boys to create complete chaos if they so chose.
As soon as Splinter came within ten yards of the burrow, the boys' sense of smell kicked in, and three little green blurs streaked towards him.
"Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!" the blurs yelled out excitedly.
"Yes, my sons. I thought you would enjoy this treat after working so diligently on your katas this morning," Splinter replied in amusement as the three small turtles promptly attached themselves to his legs. Even when he began walking again, they kept a tight grip on him and refused to let go until their sensei reached the 'dining room'—in reality just a small corner of the burrow with an old yellow blanket over it and a couch for Splinter to sit on.
Splinter placed the boxes on the blanket and opened one of them. The three turtles immediately crowded around it, staring at the steaming pizza pie with big eager eyes.
But as soon as Raphael started to reach for a slice, Splinter smacked his hand away.
"Ow!"
"We must wait for your brother before we begin eating," Splinter gently scolded the most temperamental of his boys.
"But my brothers is already here, Sensei!" Raph protested, still rubbing his hand. He stopped rubbing long enough to point to the other two turtles and explain, "See? There's Leo, and there's Donny. Let's eat!"
Again Raph reached for the pizza. Again he was slapped away.
"Ow!"
"I was referring to your other brother, Michelangelo. Where is he? Leonardo?"
"He said he was gonna take a nap, Sensei," the blue-masked turtle answered dutifully. "He said he was tired after all those katas this morning."
Michelangelo? Tired? Something wasn't right here.
"I'll go get him for you, Master Splinter."
"Thank you, Donatello."
Splinter, Leonardo and Raphael sat down in their usual spots as Donatello jogged off for the bedroom and disappeared behind the curtain that separated it from the rest of the burrow. It took the second-youngest turtle nearly five minutes to return with an extremely drowsy Michelangelo in tow.
"Sorry it took so long. He just wouldn't wake up!" Don shrugged, taking his seat. Michelangelo was still lagging behind, pouting and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"C'mon, slowpoke! I wanna eat before the pizza gets cold!" yelled Raph.
Mikey didn't appear to have heard and continued to slowly trudge towards them. Splinter watched in concern as his youngest son opened his eyes just long enough to stare blearily at the pizza…
…and then turn his head away.
"I don't want any. I'm not hungry."
There was a collective gasp from the three older turtles at Mikey's words. Raph immediately dropped the pizza slice he had managed to get his hands on, Donny was busy listening for the sounds of New York City collapsing above them as the apocalypse arrived, and all Leo could do was stare in shocked horror.
"B-But Mikey," Leonardo managed at last, "you love pizza! It's your favorite!"
"Yeah!" Donny chimed in, eager to help. "There's double cheese and everything!"
For a split-second, Mikey looked somewhat tempted. His brothers weren't lying, after all—pizza was his favorite food, and Master Splinter didn't risk getting it for them very often, so he would have to be stupid to pass up this opportunity, right?
But in the end, he shook his head 'no'.
"I just don't want any pizza right now," Mikey insisted. "I'm really not all that… that… a-CHOO!!"
Michelangelo had only completed half the sentence before his own violent sneezing interrupted him. And unfortunately, that sneeze happened to be aimed right at Raph's pizza.
"Hey! Thanks a lot, Shell-for-brains!" the red-masked turtle hollered, smacking his little brother upside the head the way he always did when Mikey annoyed him. He fully expected Mikey to either duck the blow and laugh at him or mutter 'ouch' and then sit down for pizza.
But that wasn't what happened.
Much to everyone's dismay, Mikey's lower lip began to tremble, and it wasn't long before he was standing there sobbing hysterically in front of everyone.
Alarmed, Splinter quickly rose and went over to soothe the crying child. For the sake of his other sons, he did his best to sound composed.
"Please, Michelangelo, calm yourself," he said. He wrapped his arms around the littlest turtle, who immediately hugged back and buried his small head in his sensei's shoulder. "There is no need to be so upset. What causes these tears?"
"R-R-Raphie hates me!" Mikey wailed in despair.
"Hey, c'mon, bro. I don't hate you. Just got a little mad at ya, that's all," Raph immediately put in, looking a little guilty.
Mikey sniffed loudly and hesitantly turned to face his second-oldest brother, who was now standing right behind him.
"R-Really?" Mikey asked hopefully, wiping his nose on his wrist the way Splinter had always told him not to.
Raph grinned at his brother and was about to answer when Mikey sneezed again. This time it was aimed directly at—yep, you guessed it—Raphael, whose smile rapidly changed into a frown and an angry growl. Mikey flinched away with a cry and was instantly scooped up into Master Splinter's furry arms.
"I think you had best come with me, my son," he gently informed the sniffling turtle.
"Yeah…" Mikey agreed, glancing back at the scowl on Raph's face.
"The rest of you may begin eating."
"Oh, sure, now we can eat," Raph grumbled as soon as Splinter was out of sight. "Now that that little bonehead's added an extra topping to my pizza!"
"There's plenty more where that came from, Raph," Donny told him. "We've got two whole pies here…"
"Yeah, but I wanted this one," Raph pouted.
--
Half an hour later, the turtles had finished lunch and were now sitting in a row in front of the bedroom door, waiting for either their sensei or their brother to emerge. Staring at the unmoving curtain wasn't particularly interesting for any of them, but when Michelangelo wasn't hungry for pizza and burst into tears because of a simple smack on the head, it was time to start worrying. A lot.
"Do you think they're okay in there?" Leo queried, cocking his head.
"I don't hear anything…" added Donny.
"Maybe Mikey's dead!" Raph whispered, only half-joking.
"Dead?" Donny repeated. He stared at the red-masked turtle with big eyes. Raphael, sensing a golden opportunity, hastily continued, "Yeah! And Splinter's snuck out to bury him!"
By this time, Leo was leaning around Don to gape incredulously at his apparently insane brother.
"That's impossible. How could Splinter bury anything? We're in a sewer! We're already about as low as we can get…"
"Yeah, you're right," Raph shrugged. "He's probably just gonna toss Mikey's body out the front door into the sewer water or somethin'. Then it'll float down to the river and be eaten by piranhas!"
Leo and Don stared.
"…Piranhas don't live in New York, Raph…"
"'Course they do. But don't worry—the piranhas won't hurt him or nothin'. Mikey's dead, remember?"
Don blinked.
Then Raph realized what he was saying and…
"MIIIIIIIIKKKEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY…!"
Splinter looked up in shock as three little turtles suddenly came barreling into the bedroom, shrieking their brother's name at the top of their lungs in a panic.
"Hush, my sons," Splinter was quick to admonish them. "Your brother is sleeping!"
"S-Sleeping?" Donny repeated.
Three small pairs of eyes turned their attention to the unmoving lump huddled under a thick pile of blankets against the wall. The only thing visible from under the blankets was the top of a little orange mask accompanied by soft snoring and the occasional sniffle.
"You mean he's not dead?" Leo queried, still looking a little concerned.
Splinter raised an eyebrow at the question but decided it would be best if he just didn't know about it.
"Certainly not. However, he does have a fever and a mild head cold, which is why I must ask you to keep an eye on him while I go out to scavenge for more blankets. It will get especially cold this evening and I do not want any of you to become ill as well."
"Yes, Master Splinter," the boys chorused as their sensei left the burrow. They didn't question how Splinter knew what the weather was supposed to be like—he was their master. He just knew.
As soon as he was gone, Donny announced that he was going to log onto his new computer to find out if there was anything he could do for Mikey's cold. Leo nodded in understanding as Raph went forward to check on his sick brother.
"Yo, Mike," Raph called kind-of softly.
Michelangelo failed to respond.
"HEY, MIKEY!!"
"YAH!!" Mikey shrieked.
"Yup, he's alive alright! Hehe…"
"Raph…" Leo warned. He quickly closed the distance between himself and the now-coughing Mikey and squatted down beside him.
"You okay, Mikey?" the oldest turtle asked gently, placing a three-fingered hand on his brother's shoulder.
Mikey sniffled obnoxiously in Leo's face before he answered, sounding considerably more congested than before, "I'b fide. Wh-Where'd Sedsei go?"
"He went out for a little while, but he'll be back soon. Do you need anything? A drink of water? Or maybe something to eat?"
"I… I guess I'b a liddle hu'gry," Mikey informed him thoughtfully, "bud id hurds do (sniff) swallow."
"Then maybe we can get you something easy to swallow," Leo replied. "Raph, didn't Master Splinter say he found some cans of soup the other day?"
"Yeah. I think so. Chicken noodle, tomato and… something with broccoli."
"Ewww…" Leo and Mikey chorused, their beaks wrinkling in disgust.
"Uh, right," Raph agreed. "Tomato alright with you, Mike?"
Mikey sniffled, nodded meekly, and ducked further under the covers. He seemed to be shivering a little, and Leo placed a comforting hand on his head as Raph trotted off to prepare the soup.
After a quick pit stop to another room in the burrow, Raph passed Don on his way to the pantry.
"Is he really okay?" the purple-masked turtle inquired, not bothering to look up from his computer. Lucky for Donny, Raph decided not to tease him about piranhas anymore.
"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna make some soup for 'im."
Donny finally looked away from the screen in surprise.
"…How are you going to do that?"
"With this!" Raph declared triumphantly, holding out a cigarette lighter. Don gasped when he saw it. He recognized it as the lighter that Master Splinter used to spark small fires and cook their food with whenever they were lucky enough to have warm meals besides take-out.
And the turtles were most emphatically not supposed to touch it. Ever. Under pain and penalty of fifty flips and a serious smack with Splinter's walking stick. Which, as far as Don was concerned, had to be made of titanium or something because there was no way wood could hurt so much.
"Where did you get that?" the second-youngest turtle asked, his expression a mixture of horror and fascination.
"What? Doesn't everybody know that Sensei always hides it under his bed?"
"You went into Sensei's ROOM?!"
"It was either that, or Mikey gets cold soup. And I don't think that's gonna help his sore throat any."
Donatello gulped as Raph began gathering the things he'd need to create a fire. He gulped even louder when Raph added, "Hey, I know! When I last saw Mikey, he seemed really cold. Maybe I'll light the fire in the bedroom so I can warm him up and make his food at the same time!"
A nice idea in theory. But…?
"Uh, I really don't think that's such a good idea, Raph…"
"Why not?"
"Well I don't know!" Donny all but yelled, his exasperation shining through. "But Master Splinter always makes our meals in the pantry, and I'm sure he's got a good reason for it."
"Lighten up, Brainiac! Or would you prefer it if Mikey—your only little brother in the whole world—froze to death?"
An image of poor little Michelangelo frozen in a block of ice in the middle of the Arctic while about to be eaten by polar bears suddenly appeared in Donny's mind. It may have been an utterly ludicrous idea (everybody knows that polar bears don't eat turtles, after all), but it was enough to change his mind.
"Well… alright," Donny agreed, still a bit wary. "But I'm coming with you to make sure nothing goes wrong."
"Yeah, whatever. Just stay outta the way."
When Raph and Don walked back into the bedroom, Leo was still sitting by Mikey's side. The oldest turtle glanced up as the others entered.
"Did you find anything on your computer, Donny?"
"Nothing useful. Just that colds are easy to catch from somebody else."
"…"
"Hey, where are you goi'g?" Mikey queried innocently, puzzled by the fact that his two oldest brothers were suddenly backing away from him.
"Don't bother leaving now, guys," Donny called them back. "Colds are most catching before symptoms start appearing."
Raph glared.
"If I get sick 'cause a' you, lamebrain…" he threatened, leaving the sentence unfinished to scare his little brother even more.
"Just hurry up and light the fire before Master Splinter comes home," Donny said warily, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting to see their sensei looming over them.
"Fire?" Leo repeated incredulously. He turned to Raph for an explanation, but the red-masked turtle was already crouched down on the floor near Mikey's bed with the lighter in his right hand and the soup can in his left.
"Raphael, what are you doing?" Leo cried out, racing to Raph's side.
"I'm makin' Mikey lunch! What's it look like I'm doin'?!" was the irritated response.
"Could you keeb id dowd ober dere? By head hurds…" Mikey whined.
Nobody listened to him.
"Please tell me you did not steal Master Splinter's lighter."
"I stole Master Splinter's lighter."
"I asked you not to tell me that!" Leo yelled at him. "You know better than to take Splinter's things without his permission, especially that lighter! You could get us all into big trouble!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"
By this point, Raph had managed to switch the lighter on and was staring at the small flickering flame with the same hypnotic fascination that a miner would stare at a bit of gold dust. Donny watched this reaction apprehensively, hoping that they weren't about to suddenly find out Raph was a pyromaniac or anything. Because he sure looked like one at the moment.
Leo watched nervously as Donatello placed some rocks, dry sticks and bits of cloth on the ground and began to arrange them in a meticulous design. Once that was finished, Raph pulled out the pot he'd also collected and attempted to pour the soup into it.
Well, if Donny thinks it's okay, then I guess I can let it go, Leo figured with a slight shrug. He's usually pretty sensible…
"Uh, how do I open this thing…?" Raphael grumbled. He banged the can against the pot, looking generally confused.
"Master Splinter usually opens cans with his teeth," Donny offered.
"His teeth?!" Raph repeated, staring at Donatello as if he'd mutated into a giant red-eyed alligator/turtle thing. At Don's nod, the red-masked turtle shrugged and muttered, "Okay, if you say so…"
CRUNCH
"AAAAAAAAGGHHH!!"
--
Twenty minutes later, Leo had managed to get the soup can open by using one of the katana that Master Splinter kept locked away in his room. Although he was still violently opposed to stealing from their beloved sensei, Leo figured it was okay just this once since it was an emergency. Besides, Splinter had promised him he could have the katana one day anyway, so it wasn't really stealing if it was pretty much already his, right?
Riiiiiiight…
Meanwhile, Donatello had just relit the lighter (Raph had dropped it after trying to open the can so that he could clutch his mouth in agony) and was about to touch the flame to the sticks when Mikey sneezed again, making the lighter go out a second time.
"Sorry, bro," Mike sniffled.
"That's okay, there's plenty of lighter fluid… I think…"
Donny didn't get the chance to find out before Raph trudged back into the bedroom, looking very ticked off. It wasn't easy to look genuinely intimidating while holding a bag of frozen peas between one's teeth, but Raph being Raph, he managed to pull it off quite convincingly.
"Hey, Raph," Leo greeted after carefully placing the katana back in its spot in Sensei's room. "Feeling any better?"
Raph's glare deepened and he growled something to the effect of, "Grrageroffan."
"Glad to hear it. How's the soup coming, Donny?"
"I was just about to start warming it up," the purple-masked turtle announced triumphantly. With a flick of his thumb, the lighter clicked back to life, and it wasn't long before a very nice little fire was blazing away in the turtles' bedroom.
Mikey smiled contently and snuggled a little closer to the flames, enjoying the warmth they provided. He could faintly detect the smell of tomatoes wafting his way, but his beak was so clogged up that it was barely noticeable.
His brothers, on the other hand, could smell perfectly well. And after only a few minutes, they began to smell a lot more than tomato soup.
Wrinkling his beak, Leonardo glanced around the room in puzzlement.
"There seems to be an awful lot of smoke in here," he observed, looking slightly worried. "There's never this much smoke when Master Splinter cooks something…"
"Maybe we're using the wrong kind of wood?" Donny suggested.
Raph grumbled something or other that nobody understood.
The three older turtles allowed another few moments to pass before the rapidly increasing amount of smoke became too much to ignore. It had become so bad that Raphael was forced to take the thawing bag of peas out of his mouth so he could breathe.
"Um, guys," Don managed between the hacking coughs, "maybe we should put it out now…"
"Ya fing?!" Raph yelled, his mouth still a little numb from the peas.
Even Michelangelo was beginning to take notice of the small room's increasingly poor air quality. He opened his eyes to see what his brothers were screwing up now but almost immediately had to close them again as the smoke made them sting and water.
"Oh, dude," he cried out in horror, "dat is jus' foul!"
"We know, Mikey, we're taking care of it right now!" Leo assured him. He sounded a bit stressed, so Mikey didn't push it. He still had no idea what was going on but was pretty sure that whatever it was could end up being a great prank in the right circumstances. Which these were not. Mostly because Mikey hadn't thought of whatever it was first.
Leo, Raph and Don scrambled madly about the burrow, each trying to figure out how best to douse the flames. Leo had stolen one of Mikey's blankets and was throwing it at the fire, Raph was stamping down the flames with one foot and Don had disappeared into the kitchen to get some water. Mikey just curled up in a corner with his face to the wall and a blanket over his head to block out some of the smoke.
After a little while and a lot of coughing, the three turtles managed to put out the well-intentioned fire. They all collapsed together in a heap with their shells touching, waving their small hands around in a futile attempt to clear the remaining smoke.
"Okay, so the fire's out," Leo choked. "Now what?"
"We need to get this smoke out of here," Donny managed to answer. "There's got to be some kind of opening around here (cough, cough) to let it all out…"
"You bead like dat badhole righd ober da pantry?"
Leo and Raph turned to stare at Mikey and tried to translate what he'd just said. Donatello slapped his forehead with a groan, clearly disgusted with himself.
"Of course—the manhole cover right above the pantry!" he said. "That's why Master Splinter always does the cooking in the pantry—so the smoke from the fire will go straight out and won't fill the lair! I knew there was a reason for it!"
"Of COURSE dere was a reasod! SHEESH!" Mikey yelled back.
"Oh, yeah?" snarled Raph. "If you knew all that stuff, then why didn't you bother to tell us before we lit the stupid fire?!"
"Because you would'dt have beliebed be!" Michelangelo yelled back. "Ebery tibe I suggesd sobethig, you hit me ober da head and tell be do shud ub!!"
The three elder turtles stared at each other.
"You know… he's got a point…" admitted Leo, thoughtfully scratching the back of his neck. Raphael merely growled in disgust before stomping off to get another bag of frozen vegetables. Mikey just reached for the pot of soup, picked the spoon up off the floor and began eating.
--
Half an hour later, Donny had managed to fix the remnants of an old fan Splinter had once found and use it to blow the offending smoke towards the pantry, where it went up and out through the small holes in the manhole cover. Leo had helped him while Raph sat by Mikey with a bag of corn kernels between his sore teeth. Mikey was happy for the company (even if it was Raph) and slurped away at the tomato soup contentedly.
Now, Leonardo was meditating across the room from Michelangelo and Raphael, while Donatello sat typing away at his computer in the kitchen. He had yet to find anything truly valuable concerning cures for the common cold—most websites instructed him to stay in bed, drink lots of juice and take some medicine, but that was pretty much useless. Mikey was already in bed and wasn't looking any better than he had that morning, and there was no juice or medication to be found anywhere in the burrow, although maybe Master Splinter would bring some with him when he returned.
With a bored sigh, Donny clicked on the 2,131th result of the 898,000 that Google had provided him with. This would be the absolute last site he investigated, the purple-masked turtle vowed as the new page blinked onto the screen.
What he saw nearly sent him into shock.
Don sat there for a full minute, staring in horror at the website before him. He tried to call out for help, but his throat was so constricted that he couldn't even breathe, let alone speak. His legs twitched in a weak effort to move and eventually succeeded, carrying their terrified owner at lightning speed back into the bedroom.
Flinging the curtain back, Donny skidded to a halt in the bedroom doorway and stared at his sick brother, who was scooping the few remaining drops of soup from the bottom of the pot into his mouth.
"Raphael, stop him!" Donny yelled frantically.
Raph looked up at Donny, eyes wide with surprise. He glanced over at Mikey, saw that his equally-shocked younger brother was still innocently eating his meal, and turned back to Donny, looking mildly irritated.
He removed the bag from his mouth just long enough to say so.
"What for? He ain't doin' nothin'," were his exact words.
"What is it, Don?" Leo chimed in. The eldest got to his feet and hurried across the room just as Donny was snatching the spoon away from Michelangelo.
"Hey!!"
"What'd ya do that for?!"
"Don, what's wrong?"
Donatello ignored his brother's protests and checked inside the pot to see how much of the soup was left. He was very dismayed to find that it was nearly all gone.
"I'm too late…" the troubled turtle moaned.
"Too late for what?" asked Leo.
By way of explanation, Don cried back, "He ate all the soup!"
"Whad, did you wan' sobe?" Mikey wondered.
"No, I didn't want any. You don't understand…" Donny shook his head, trying to calm himself before talking again. "I was just doing some more research online, to see if I could find something to do that would help make you feel better, but the only thing I found was that you're not supposed to feed someone with a fever!"
"WHAD!!" poor Mikey yelled in a panic.
"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!" Raph objected loudly, sounding much more irritated than before (mostly because it still hurt to talk, but how could he help it when his supposedly intelligent brother was acting like Mikey). "How's not eatin' supposed to help him?"
"Well… I'm not… really sure," Don reluctantly admitted, "but it's part of a real old saying, and if it lasted this long, then it must really work, right?"
"What's the other part of this 'real old saying'?" Leo queried, looking genuinely curious.
"I think it said that you were supposed to feed a cold and starve a fever."
"So what's that gotta do with Mikey? He's got a cold and a fever!" Raph pointed out. "Are we supposed to feed him and then take it away before he swallows it or something?"
Mikey shrieked in fear and promptly pulled the covers over his head. Three muffled sneezes sounded from under them in quick succession.
"Something's telling me this isn't helping," Leo concluded. He watched as Raphael poked at the blankets, trying to convince Mikey to come back out before he suffocated.
"Maybe I'll go do some more research…" added Don. As he turned to go back to the kitchen, he heard Leo call out, "I'll go with you."
Donny had been plugging away at his computer for only a minute or so before Raph came to join them as well. He looked over his brothers' shoulders to see what was on the screen.
Nothing very interesting, as he quickly found out. Leo and Donny, however, seemed absolutely fascinated by all those lengthy paragraphs describing germs and antibiotics, so Raphael decided to leave them to it and go check on Mikey.
Seconds later, he was back in the kitchen.
"Guys! Come quick! Mikey's gone!" Raph yelled.
"What?!"
"C'mere and look for yourselves!"
Don and Leo followed him frantically, actually hoping that their temperamental brother was playing another joke. Instead, they arrived in the bedroom to find a very distressed Raph, the empty soup pot, a pile of blankets, and no Mikey.
Leo scowled determinedly.
"We've got to find him. Donny, you stay here in case he comes back. Raph and I will—"
"You mean, 'stay here in case Master Splinter comes home so you end up having to explain this to him instead of us'!" countered Don, sounding unusually aggressive. "I don't think so, bro. I'm going with you."
Leo scowled again, this time in aggravation.
"Fine. Let's just hurry up and find him before something bad happens to him."
"Or us," Raph grumbled as he followed his brothers out the door.
"Wait, maybe he's still in the lair," Don suggested. "Let's look around here first before running outside..."
--
Once again, Hamato Splinter sighed in relief as he returned underground. Now, instead of pizza boxes, he was carrying several tattered blankets, a few random useful items and a bottle of orange juice. He'd heard somewhere that people (and, presumably, mutant turtles) should drink plenty of orange juice when they were sick.
He just hoped he'd be more successful at getting Michelangelo to ingest it this time. The last time Splinter had brought orange juice to the burrow, his youngest son had taken a small sip then spat it out across the table, complaining that his drink was filled with little worms. Of course, that immediately made his brothers panic, and even the threat of ten flips each couldn't get them to touch the drink again.
Well, this time Splinter was prepared. He had made sure to get orange juice without the pulp this time, so there couldn't possibly be any more complaints of worm infestations.
He was about halfway back to the burrow when a whisper-quiet whimper coming from the right caught his attention. He'd know that whimper anywhere.
"Michelangelo…?"
The whimpering stopped instantly. Splinter patiently waited as the distorted shadow of his youngest son moved slowly along the sewer wall toward him. Before long, Michelangelo came into view, shivering and crying as he looked up at the large rat.
"Sedsei?" he asked, very, very quietly. The query was promptly followed by a sneeze and a rather pitiful sniffle.
"What are you doing out here, my son? And where are your brothers?"
"B-Back at hobe, I guess…"
"And you?"
Mikey sniffed one last time before the whole desperate story poured out:
"I hadda go away, Sedsei, hodest! Dey wasn't godda feed be and dey practically burded the whole place dowd and Raph broked his teeth and… and… please tell be dat isn't ora'ge juice."
Splinter glanced down at the jug Michelangelo was pointing to, then slung the blankets over one shoulder so that he'd have a free hand with which to guide the orange-masked turtle home.
"Come, my son. Let us get you back to bed and see what your brothers have to say about this."
Not a whole heck of a lot, as it turned out.
"Uhhhh…"
"Well…"
"Heh heh…"
"I asked you three to perform a very simple task—to watch over your brother while I was out," Master Splinter scolded them. Leo, Raph and Donny all bowed their heads as their sensei continued, "And yet I return less than an hour later to find our home in total chaos!"
The three turtles looked around guiltily at the mess in the burrow. They had pretty much managed to wreck the whole place during their frantic search for Michelangelo, plus there was the pizza boxes from lunch they'd never gotten around to cleaning up, the dirty pot and spoon sitting on the floor where Mikey had left them, the two bags of thawed-out vegetables, the lighter and a few lingering traces of smoke in the pantry that had yet to dissipate.
As Splinter admonished the three older boys, Mikey stood obediently by his side, still clutching his hand like a lifeline and watching the sad looks on his big brothers' faces. They may not have been the best of caretakers—they may not have even been good caretakers—but it seemed to him that Master Splinter was being a little harsh on them. It wasn't like they'd made the mess on purpose. They were only trying to take care of him, after all!
And so, just as Splinter was about to assign punishments…
"Psst."
Splinter fell silent and looked down at Mikey, who was pulling gently on his robe and shaking his head a little bit. The old rat raised an eyebrow.
"Is there something you wish to add, Michelangelo?"
"Yeah. Uh... please don' bunish 'em, Baster Splinner. Dey was tryin' real hard and, eben dough dey was absoluted-ly HORRIBLE ad id, dey'se still by brudders and well… I rad away, rebember? It was by fauld, too. So if you bunish by brudders, you gotta bunish be, too."
Mikey's family blinked at their youngest member in surprise. The sniffling turtle stared back at them, wondering what was so interesting, and then suddenly realized what he'd done wrong.
"Please!" he added, proud for having remembered his manners.
"You do bring up a valid point, my son," Splinter nodded after another moment or so of shocked silence. "You did run away when you knew I would not be gone long and would soon return to help sort out whatever problems you were having. We shall discuss your punishment when you are feeling better."
Mikey grinned. He couldn't remember ever being so happy to hear that Master Splinter was going to punish him!
His brothers, however, weren't nearly as excited.
"Please, Sensei," Donny begged shyly, "don't blame Mikey for any of this. Being sick probably made him confused—it was all my fault for scaring him with my incomplete research. Can't you give his punishment to me instead?"
"No, I'm the one who should be taking Mikey's punishment—and the rest of them, too," Leo quickly offered. "I'm the oldest. I should have kept a better eye on things."
"Don't listen to 'em, Sensei, it was my fault," Raphael, of course, had to chime in. "I stole your lighter, and was teasing Mikey about how we weren't gonna feed him no more. That's what made him run away."
Splinter looked down into the four small faces staring expectantly up at him and felt his heart swell with pride. All four of them, each willing to accept responsibility for his mistakes and take whatever punishment his mistakes warranted. Clearly they had learned their lessons well. What more could a father ask of his sons?
"What you all ask is very admirable, my sons," Splinter told them. "However, I'm afraid I will be unable to comply with your requests."
The room was filled with sighs and groans of disappointment, except from Mikey, who looked around bemusedly and asked, "What'd he say?"
"He said no, you moron," Raph grumbled back.
"Oh… why dot, Sedsei?" the smallest turtle wanted to know.
"Because fulfilling your requests would require my punishing you, but I do not feel this will be necessary."
The four turtles looked up at him hopefully.
"You have owned up to and taken responsibility for your actions. As long as you clean up the mess you have made and promise to behave yourselves better in the future, I see no reason to discipline you further."
The three eldest boys cheered. Mikey still didn't quite understand the big words his father was using, but he took his brothers' merriment as a good sign and promptly joined in.
--
An hour later, Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello had pretty much finished cleaning up the burrow. Michelangelo had wanted to help, but the only thing his brothers had allowed him to do was take the pot and spoon to the kitchen for Donny to wash. Then he was immediately ordered back to bed. He followed the order with some reluctance.
"I've stored all the pizza in the pantry the way you showed me, Master Splinter," Don announced.
"Very good, Donatello."
Donny beamed at the praise and moved closer to his sensei so that he could watch the old rat examine Raph's mouth.
"Are his teeth okay?" Donny asked cautiously.
"They seem to be intact," Splinter nodded. "However, I would recommend he use the can opener from now on."
"We have a can opener?" Donny said.
"We have a CAN OPENER?!" Raph roared, glowering at the now-cringing Donny.
"I didn't know we had one!" Don protested.
"We didn't—until now," Splinter told them with a smile. He held up the slightly rusted piece of metal he had found on his most recent scavenging expedition.
"As soon as Michelangelo has recovered, I will teach you all how to use it properly. And how to light a fire without burning down the entire burrow."
Donny grinned sheepishly and giggled.
CRASH
CRACK
"MIKEY, COME BACK HERE!!"
Splinter, Don and Raph watched in shock as the bedroom curtain was flung brutally aside to make way for the panicked turtle that was now fleeing for his life. The source of his terror followed closely behind, wielding a glass of orange juice.
"It's not my fault!" Leo hollered. "Splinter says you HAVE to!!"
Mikey didn't bother to answer; he was too busy running. Even with a fever and a head cold, the youngest turtle was still faster than any of his brothers, including Leo.
But he was no match for Master Splinter, who grabbed Michelangelo by the bandanna tails as he tried to run past.
"Bud I don't wadda drink worb juice!" Mikey wailed as Splinter pulled him backwards.
"Michelangelo, I assure you that this is not 'worm juice'. Now if you try it and don't like it, then I will not force you to drink it. However, I must insist that you at least try it first."
Mike pouted as Leo sympathetically handed the glass over to his sick brother. Raph and Donny watched in fascination as Mikey put the glass to his mouth and took a sip.
Mikey lowered the glass slowly. His eyes widened.
"Hey, dere aren't ady worbs id here!" he exclaimed in wonderment. He eagerly took another mouthful and elaborated, "Id's good, too! Sedsei, do I get dis stuff ebery tibe I'b sick?"
"If I can find it for you, then yes," Splinter nodded, smiling.
"Den I wadda be sick lots bore often!"
"Don't you dare!" Raph warned.
"Yeah. You're enough trouble when you're not sick," Donny added.
"I'B trouble? YOU'RE de guys who—"
"Just drink your juice, Mikey," Leo said hastily.
Mikey happily did so.
The End
Well, there ya have it. My first Ninja Turtles fic!! (is all proud) Hopefully you thought it was cute. In any case, thanks for reading!