Disclaimer: I hereby make no claim to have ownership of the logo Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or TMNT or anything related to said series. This privilege first belonged to Eastman and Laird though now it is the corporate property of Nicktoons. They need not worry as this is not a paid work nor do I demand payment for being read or hosted. I believe that covers everyone's concerns?

This story was inspired by my sister who, while we were re-watching the first episode Things Change, suddenly pointed at Splinter placing a hand over his eye and telling me "that's exactly what you do!" It (didn't) help that I had just had a bad migraine just a few days ago. Which got me thinking... And thus, this story was born. So, thanks sis!

March 2015: Eeep! Rereading through this I found some spelling mistakes that I thought I'd already fixed... my bad! They should be fixed now.

"Sensei,"

Splinter opened his eyes and looked up to see his eldest moving around the end of the couch, one of the first things the turtles had rescued from their old home. Leonardo carried a box in both hands and he crouched down in front of Splinter, tipping the box carefully to show its contents.

Splinter's nose twitched at the gentle aroma that reached him even as he caught sight of the ceramic shapes. "Ah, I see my tea set has survived!"

He was genuinely pleased. Tea was one of the rare things he allowed himself to indulge in, although there were times it was an absolute necessity and not a luxury when raising four sons. The only problem was that, unlike food, it didn't readily spoil and most tea shops were loathe to throw it away. He usually had to acquire it with great patience and by going out of his way, often being satisfied with less then perfect rejects from higher end cafes.

Leonardo carefully pushed the cups aside and pulled aside the shredded paper that one of the turtles had thoughtfully packed around the ceramic teapot and cups. "We weren't able to salvage everything. A lot of the stock had fallen off the shelves and were soaked from the floodwaters."

The unspoken 'sorry' laced his son's voice as he showed Splinter the battered cans and jars of loose and bagged tea that had been saved. Splinter shook his head and reached out to place a hand on Leonardo's shoulder.

"Do no be discouraged, my son, with things outside of our control. We have done the best we can with the knowledge we have. My most prized possessions made it out safely with their lives and that is all that matters." He tightened his fingers for emphasis and was rewarded with a smile from Leonardo. Good; the thoughts had been easy to push aside this time. "Everything else is replaceable. All it takes is time."

Suddenly there was a loud bang of metal, followed by a clatter of things falling and skating across the brick flooring. Splinter's ears twitched at the sound and he automatically tried to place it. Most likely one of the cooking pots and what sounded like the bamboo training poles.

"Ow! Raph, that's my toe, shell for brains!"

"And here I thought it was something important."

"That is important!"

"I thought that was your mouth. You don't seem to use anything else."

"Oh yeah?"

There was a loud smack of skin on shell and Raph let out a yelp that was almost covered up in more things falling to the floor - the bamboo poles again. Splinter couldn't help but sigh at the sounds of the impromptu wrestling match. he removed his hand from Leonardo's shoulder and pressed it up against his left eye as his ears drooped. He had hoped the throbbing pain wouldn't come until later, but the loud noises from his sons seemed to have quickened the phase.

"Master Splinter?" Concern laced Leonardo's voice. "Your head is bothering you again, isn't it?"

Splinter dropped his hand from his head and gave his son a wane smile. "It is not too bothersome right now my son, thank you."

Michelangelo and Raphael chose that particular moment to knock into something with their tumbling and the resulting crash of household items nearly drowned out Raphael's startled shout. "Whoa, Mikey! You okay?"

Splinter winced again, as much from the pain it cause as from the thought of more broken items, and couldn't prevent his ears from pinning back briefly. The noise most definitely was not helping. He started rubbing at a few pressure points around his wrists to help ease the pain, though at this stage it was often too late to stop it entirely.

Leonardo stood, the box in his hands again. "Some of the tea you use to help with the headaches has survived. How about I make you some Master Splinter?"

Splinter inclined his head in agreement. "Yes, Leonardo, that would be most welcomed."

"Okay, give me a few minutes to get the water heated up."

The pale green turtle moved behind Splinter, jumping down to the ground floor. Splinter heard him walking along the outside circle of the room's design, heading towards the far side where one of the rooms had quickly been designated as the kitchen area on the first day. Donatello had managed to get power going - a crude fast job according to him, no matter what the others said - and Michelangelo had found their old portable electric burner with single minded determination. And perhaps a little muscle help from Raphael to move debris in their old, ruined home.

It wasn't much and it's spot on the floor was inconvenient with no counters or other helpful kitchen items nearby. But it had allowed them to have hot food and water for the past four days, something that made managing four teenage sons all that much more possible. It certainly was better than where they had started, Splinter was quick to remind himself.

Splinter twitched his ear as he heard Leonardo's quiet steps slow down to a stop before the kitchen doorway. Hushed whispers were exchanged, too quietly for even him to make out the words, but telling the voices apart had long become second nature for him. First Leonardo, his tone commanding. Then Raphael overlapped by Michelangelo, first indignant then grudgingly agreeing after a quick word from Donatello. When the footsteps continued on towards the kitchen, Raphael and Michelangelo went back to work with Donatello, though with considerably less noise then before.

Splinter smiled. Perhaps it was still possible to stave off the worst of the headache with some tea. It might also be prudent to see if he could find a quiet spot in their new home where he could still keep an ear on his sons without their noise becoming overwhelming. But it was hard. deeply ingrained instincts wanted to keep him where he could be constantly aware of his sons and their suroundings. While they were distracted with cleaning up and reclaiming a home for themselves, he would be staying alert with his ears and mind for any danger that should approach them while they were most vulnerable.

He was just grateful that none of the turtles had developed the same pulsing pain that he was burdened with. It was so similar to a headache but he knew that it was something else. Just what had puzzled him and his sons.

Heavy footsteps alerted Splinter to the approach of Raphael. His weight fell more heavily than normal and so when he came around the pillar Splinter wasn't surprised to see him holding their coffee table. He had the short wooden table pinned awkwardly to his right side, his left hand gripping one of the legs tightly to keep the corner from digging into his thigh with every step.

"Here, Master Splinter," he said gruffly as he set the table down, pushing it with a foot to put it near the couch. "Figured you might need that for your tea."

Splinter smiled up at him. "Thank you, Raphael, you are most considerate."

Raphael scowled and tightened his shoulders mulishly, but years of practice allowed Splinter to see the pleased spark hidden in his eyes as his son walked off. Splinter shook his head at the display. He still wasn't sure how to handle the iron will that covered Raphael's sensitive spirit - especially when the gruff turtle would hardly acknowledge it himself. The increased frequency with which he fought with his brothers and even Splinter himself was a sure sign that something had to change soon. Perhaps-

Light footsteps rapidly approaching him from behind caused him to pause in his thoughts and it came as no surprise when his youngest launched himself up onto the ledge and cleared the couch with hardly a break in his stride.

"Hey, Master Splinter!" The exuberant near-shout did nothing to help his aching head. But he only smile patiently as Michelangelo cheerfully spun in place and showed off what he was holding. "Your training dummy made it out alive! Well, as alive as one can be with a torn arm and er, looks like one of those mouser robots tried to eat his leg and some of the stitches are busted..." Michelangelo's fingers probed the torn fabric in the cloth shoulder of the dummy, frowning in disappointment before shrugging and focusing on Splinter again. "But hey! For being under a lot of cement and piping, he came out pretty well! Where do you want him?"

"Hmmm..." Splinter rubbed his chin in thought, thankful that the pain wasn't so severe as to prevent thought. While the whole area was a perfect setup for a training ground, Splinter could see that he now had the room to have proper storage for their ninjitsu equipment. But he had yet to fully explore their new home and wanted to withhold his decision until his sons had time to settle.

Besides, Michelangelo was right; the training dummy had plenty of ripped stitching. He gestured to the floor beside the couch. "Leave it here with me, and see if Donatello has been able to locate my sewing supplies. I would like to fix this up before putting it back to use."

"Sure thing, Master Splinter." Michelangelo chirped, propping the dummy up against the side of the couch before launching himself back off the edge. Splinter watched as he did a midair flip before hitting the ground in a roll and bouncing up to his feet. Yes, his footwork was improving, but Splinter knew he could do better. Perhaps a lesson on balance would do all the turtles good as well as help them center themselves after all the chaos and stress of moving.

Movement drew his eye and Splinter shifted on the couch in order to see the opposite side of the lair where Leonardo was coming out from the hexagonal doorway, bearing a steaming pot of tea and two tea cups on a wooden tray. He wisely took the bridge to cross the body of water, avoiding his three active brothers near the front entrance of the lair. Splinter shifted his attention to them and the hastily made piles of items, furniture and equipment. Fear of encroaching floodwaters and other dangers had caused Splinter and his terrapin sons to be less considerate of organization, often grabbing the first thing that they could find and piling it into the Sewer Slider. It was then dropped off at the new home location with as much consideration in order to get back quickly.

Even from here Splinter could see the distress the mess caused Donatello from the way he would nibble at the corner of his lip, brow furrowed slightly. Yet his body language spoke of determination and the friendly shell jostling he was giving Michelangelo at the moment was evidence that he wasn't too stressed.

The faint clatter of ceramic alerted him to Leonardo's arrival as the young turtle made his way up the convenient ramp to the half level up that the couch and Splinter occupied. Splinter settled back down on the couch properly as Leonardo set the tray on the coffee table and poured the tea.

"Here you are, Master Splinter." Leonardo handed him one of the cups, keeping the chipped one for himself. Splinter took the cup and breathed in the sweet yet spicy ginger scent. "Thank you, Leonardo."

"I hope it helps." Leonardo cradled his cup carefully with his thick fingers as he crossed his legs and sat down.

"It already has," Splinter reassured him as he took a sip. It wasn't quite as good as most of the teas made by Leonardo, but he could hardly blame the terrapin. Leonardo enjoyed making tea as much as Splinter enjoyed drinking them but even he couldn't do much about their situation. "Tell me, did you have much trouble at the old lair today?"

Leonardo swallowed a mouthful of tea. "Not too much. We had a little trouble clearing the rest of the cave in with the roof still unstable. We still were able to clean out most of the half of the lair that was blocked off. But the most trouble was... well, trying to find something that had not been ruined from the water flooding in, or crushed under concrete."

Visibly deflated, Leonardo rubbed a finger over the chipped part of the cup. It hadn't been chipped a week ago, Splinter knew. In fact he could remember when they had acquired it because it had been Leonardo who had found it on one of their scavenging trips. The young turtle had not been able to grasp why someone would be willing to throw away something perfectly functional, no matter how much Splinter had tried to explain it.

Splinter took another sip before lowering his cup, letting the warmth seep into his hands. "Do not fret over it my son. You did the best you could."

"Yes, but..." Leonardo sighed and shifted his legs, letting them sprawl out in front of him as he set his cup down so he could rub at his arm. "I just wish that we didn't have to lose so much. I mean, it's bad enough that we got kicked out of our home, but we actually needed most of that stuff!"

Splinter hid a knowing smile behind another sip of tea, hearing more than just the spoken words. It was distressing to his eldest son to see his brothers having to scramble again for simple everyday necessities, like the blankets and mattresses that had been ruined under the collapsed stone. Lowering his cup, he looked at Leonardo, waiting until the turtle turned his eyes up to meet his own. "It will be a set back, yes, and probably a bit miserable at first. But I do not think it will be as difficult as before, and there is much more potential here then there ever was in our old lair."

Just then, somewhere behind them, Michelangelo clapped his hands loudly. "Donnie! Donnie! I got it!"

"Did you find it, Mikey?"

"What? No, no not that! But you remember telling me I couldn't bring home another TV screen?"

"Is this going somewhere?" Raphael's rough voice cut in.

"Yes! Yes it is because you, Donnie, told me that there wasn't any more room on the wall for another TV screen. Well, what about now, genius?"

"Which I believe, Michelangelo is already working on." Splinter commented with a chuckle.

Leonardo finally let go of his disappointment and gave a snort of amusement, smiling. "Leave it to Mikey to figure out how to get entertainment up and running before the plumbing."

"It is his talent," Splinter agreed, setting his finished cup on the table and reaching for the pot.

"Here, father, let me get that." Leonardo sat up and grabbed the pot before Splinter could touch it, carefully pouring Splinter another cup.

"Arigato," Splinter told him simply, allowing his son to finish before picking his cup back up.

"Has it helped any?" Leonardo asked as he set the cup down, peeking up at Splinter.

Splinter paused to think over that question before inclining his head. "Yes, I do believe it has faded enough to not be so painful."

Leonardo opened his mouth to say something, but just then there was the sound of water sloshing and a curtain of water rained down behind him.

"Whoa, that's cold!" Leonardo yelped as he jumped up, knocking over his cup of tea as he sprang away from the freshly made puddle. He brushed at his leg with one hand before craning his head up. "Where did that come from?"

"I believe it is that pipe near the ceiling." Splinter pointed up to an orange pipe jutting out from the curving ceiling. He looked back toward the puddle still spreading on the floor and gave a sniff. "It smells of stagnant, old water but doesn't seem to be any type of sewage."

"Huh. I wonder if it's part of an old drainage system that's not in use anymore." Leonardo walked up to the edge of the water and crouched down, poking at it with his finger. "I'll have to check it out with Donnie, see if we have to redirect it or if we can just cap it off."

"Perhaps that should wait until you are finished getting everything from the old lair?" Splinter held his tongue against the automatic order for the turtle to wash his hands, immediately. His son wasn't a toddler anymore.

"We're almost done, I think." Leonardo stood back up, brushing his hand against his shell before bending down to pick up his tipped cup. "There wasn't much left after our last trip today, so it'll probably just take one more trip to get the last of the stuff. I doubt we'll even need everyone for the last trip."

"I would advise waiting until tomorrow," Splinter said, leaving enough room for Leonardo to make his own decision. "All four of you have been busy all day with cleaning up our new home and trips to the old one. It is getting quite late."

Leonardo nodded in agreement. "That would be for the best. Speaking of which, I better get Mikey started on dinner already seeing as we're down to one burner."

Leonardo gently placed his tea cup on the table before moving around the couch and dropped off the edge of the half level and making his way over to his brothers. Soon his voice was mixing in with the other turtles. Splinter closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of his tea and relishing in the sounds of his sons. A clattering of dishes and pots and then two of the voices moved away from the others towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Sensei."

Splinter opened his eyes to see Donatello approaching from the right, skirting his way around the puddle of water soaking into the bricks, a book tucked under one elbow.

"Donatello." Splinter tipped his head slightly. "Were you able to find my sewing kit?"

"What?" Donatello blinked, the look of him switching subjects all too familiar to Splinter. "Oh, no not yet. Sorry, sensei."

"No need to apologize," Splinter gently reminded his son, even though he knew Donatello wasn't trying to apologize for something out of his control. He lifted a paw and gestured at the book. "What do you have there?"

"I found my medical book. You know, the one I found just last week." Donatello dropped down onto the floor and crossed his legs before propping the book across his feet. Splinter again hid a smile behind his tea cup as he saw that the olive-green turtle was unknowingly mirroring Leonardo's posture of a few minutes ago. Olive green fingers leafed through the paper pages nimbly. "Leo said you were having one of your long headaches again. I thought I could try to figure out what it was. This book is a whole lot newer than the last one I tried to use. That is, if it isn't too bad?"

Donatello looked up questioningly at Splinter and he shook his head, gesturing for his son to continue. "It has eased off and hopefully will not come back."

Donatello found the page he was looking for, tracing his hand down the page. "Okay, so lets make sure the symptoms are still the same. It's like a headache, right?"

"Yes, except it seems to center here, behind the eye" Splinter lifted his left paw to cover his eye.

"Right," Donatello nodded without looking up. He had watched Splinter make the gesture whenever he was having an episode. "And the pain comes and goes still?"

As Splinter answered his son patiently, clarifying a few of the less common points, Donatello pulled out a pen from his belt. Keeping his place with one hand, he flipped to the back of the book where there were a few blank pages and scribbled down some notes. It only took a few minutes to go over what little Splinter could tell him and then the purple masked turtle was flipping from the index to various sections of the book, muttering under his breath impatiently when the first three results didn't seem to be what he was after.

"No, I'm pretty sure a stroke is not what you have. Definitely not after you had them this long... Radiation poisoning? No, I'm not even sure the ooze was radioactive; the canister certainly doesn't have any residue..." Donatello let out a huff and allowed the book to stay open as he straightened up, scowling and rubbing at his chin in thought. "Sorry to waste your time sensei... I thought maybe with a little more up to date information..." He sighed and poked at the book, flipping the pages at random.

"Do not despair, Donatello," Splinter told him, getting up and walking over to the turtle to lay a hand on his shoulder. "The material you have, while useful, is perhaps still too outdated. You have the right idea and method, but it is quite possible that all you need is access to much more recent material."

The words had more effect on the turtle than Splinter was intending, for the olive-green ninja suddenly perked up and the master could see the sharp gleam that ignited in the brown eyes. "You mean like through the internet? Shell, come to think of it, I never really was able to give it much of a try at our old lair was I? There was so many other things to work on at the time and our connection was always fluctuating. I noticed today that there are some of those new fiber optic cables running right outside this lair's wall. They'd be perfect for high speed internet connections!"

Splinter blinked at the rapid flow of words. Sometimes Donatello would talk just as fast as Michelangelo when a subject caught his attention. And while it was embarrassing for Splinter to admit that he had a hard time grasping the inner workings of any technology more complicated then a TV remote, he considered it a blessing to have a son that could work and create things with technology as if by magic. He only wished that said such son would learn to include instructions with such inventions. "If that is what gets you the answers you seek, my son, then yes."

He took a sniff of the air, smelling a mixture of cooked eggs and vegetables as well what smelled like canned beans. Clever Michelangelo, to use up the perishables as quickly as possible now that they no longer had a working cooler. "It seems like Michelangelo has managed to make something edible out of our surviving supplies.

"Come." He gave Donatello's shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning and heading for the ramp. "We have all had a busy day. Let us get some food and give our bodies and minds some rest."

Donatello looked up, but before he could reply Raphael's voice cut across the open lair as he waved near the kitchen doorway.

"Yo Donnie, Master Splinter, food's ready!"

"Coming," Donatello replied to both Splinter and Raphael. He closed the book and tucked it under his arm again before he vaulted over the edge rather then crowd his rat father on the ramp. "I sure am starved. I think I could even eat Leo's cooking."

"Let us hope we do not need to test those words," Splinter chuckled as he lead the way towards the kitchen where the sounds of dishes clattering and happy voices spilled out.

Yes, he was troubled with pain. But he didn't care; he was blessed with four sons that shone as brightly as any sun.