I don't own the TMNT. They are owned by Nickelodeon. I didn't create them. They were created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. I don't make any money from this fan fiction and I never will. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Michelangelo sat on the bench watching his father stir a pot of algae and worms.

Splinter turned his back to him to fetch the bowls from the cupboard. Now was his chance. He pulled the mixing spoon out of the pot along with a glob of the wriggling goop and stuck the spoon in his mouth licking it clean. He giggled sneakily, ready to put the spoon back so his father wouldn't notice.

"I hope you aren't planning on putting that spoon back into our dinner Michelangelo." Splinter warned, his back still facing the turtle.

"No Daddy." He assured, hiding the spoon behind his back as Splinter turned around carrying five bowls.

"Good. Then can you please put that spoon in the sink, then get me a new spoon as well as Raphael's vitamins?"

"Hai Daddy" Mikey smiled before hopping off of the bench and putting the spoon into the sink. He then proceeded to walk back to the bench and climbed up onto the counter using the draw handles as steps to help himself up. He sat down on the bench and looked up at his father expectantly.

"When's din dins ready Daddy? I'm starving." He moaned.

"Dinner will be ready when you bring me a new spoon and your brother's Vitamins," Splinter explained patiently.

"Ooh, I'll get them for you," he volunteered, jumping down from the bench for a second time.

His son's forgetfulness and lack of attention was nothing new. He had always been a day dreamer but Splinter was starting to wonder whether there was not something else going on with him. He hoped not; he did not know how he would cope having two sick sons.

"Daddy?" Michelangelo's arms were wrapped around the vitamins and he had a spoon in one hand. Splinter reached down and lifted the turtle up onto the bench where Mikey deposited the goods.

Splinter looked at the spoon that his son had brought him.

"Michelangelo. This is the same spoon that you just put in the sink."

Mikey nodded.

"I asked you to bring me a clean spoon."

"It is clean. I licked it off."

"Do you remember what I told you about germs?"

"Uhh, yes." He answered uncertainly.

"Are you sure you remember?"

"I definitely do remember. But can you say it again just in case?"

"If you use a spoon or a plate it becomes dirty. I must then wash it with hot water and soap to get rid of the germs. If we do not wash our dishes before using them again the germs could spread and that's when people get sick."

"Hai Daddy. Is din dins ready now?"

Splinter sighed. As much as his youngest son liked helping out with the cooking, sometimes it was easier just to do things himself. He got a clean spoon from the drawer, gave the dinner one last stir before turning the stove off.

"Can I help scoop din dins?"

Splinter agreed, but after more food ended up on the bench and himself than in the actual bowls, he decided to dish out the algae himself and give his son the job of carrying the bowls to the table instead.

With four bowls already on the table, Splinter dished up the final one.

"Is that Waphie's din dins? Can I put in his med'cine?"

"No Michelangelo, I will do that. But if you would like to help; can you please get Leonardo and Donatello to come for dinner?"

"I'll get Waphie too."

"Wait Michelangelo. Remember…"

"I know Daddy. Be very quiet and check to see if he's sweeping. If he's asweep leave him alone. If he's awake, ask if he can come for din dins or if I should get you to help him."

"Very good Michelangelo. I can tell you pay very close attention when it comes to looking after your brother."

His son beamed up at him before racing out of the room. Splinter finished mixing the various powders into Raphael's food and set that bowl in its place at the table too. Alongside the bowls he set chopsticks for Leonardo, Donatello and himself and spoons for Michelangelo and Raphael, who had not yet mastered the skill of eating with chopsticks.

Moments later, Leonardo and Donatello were both in the kitchen and climbing onto their seats.

Michelangelo walked in soon after.

"Daddy. He says he doesn't want help but he isn't walking good."

"Alright I will see to him. When Raphael is here, then we will all eat. Not before. Do you understand Michelangelo? "

"Hai, Daddy." His son's face beamed with an angelic smile that wasn't fooling Splinter for a second.

The door to the boys' bedroom was slightly open. Splinter looked in before opening it up all the way. His son had gotten out of bed and was leaning against the mattress for support as he walked. Raphael saw his father standing in the door way but didn't asked for help. Instead, with determined resolve, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other until he got to the end of the bed and had nothing else to lean on.

"Raphael. Would you like help coming to dinner?"

"Don't need help," he replied shortly.

"You are right. I can see that you are doing a very good job yourself. I am very impressed with how strong you've grown and how good at walking you are now. Would you mind if we walked together?"

"You won't help me though?"He checked.

"Of course not."

"I guess that's okay then. Uhh Daddy?"

"Yes my son?"

"If we're walking together then you should prob'ly hold my hand."

Splinter smiled, stepping into the room holding his hand out to his son.

While leaning heavily against the end of his mattress for support Raphael reached one arm out to grab his father's hand. He let go of the bed and wobbled on his unsteady feet for a few steps but then began to stumble. He thought he was about to hit the ground until his descent was stopped by the grip his father had on his hand. Then he felt another hand carefully wrap around his waist to steady him.

"Are you alright my son?"

"Yeah, my legs are just tired," he explained. "Wake up legs," he shouted down at the appendages.

"I think perhaps they are tired from the playing you did this morning. Why don't we let them continue to rest, otherwise you may be too tired play with your brothers again tomorrow."

Raph thought on this for a while and the desire to be included in his brothers' games eventually won out over his pride. He nodded his consent and lifted his arms up so Splinter could pick him up and carry him to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Splinter noticed that nearly half of Michelangelo's food was already gone and his hands were covered in green algae. The other two brothers were waiting patiently before they started eating.

Everyone had their own place at the dinner table. Splinter had not designated these places but everyone just seemed to have claimed a spot that was their own. On one side of the table sat Leonardo, with Donatello next to him. Next to Donatello, sitting at the end of the table was Michelangelo. Their seats all had cushions on them to give the turtles the extra height they needed to be able to reach the table. Next to Michelangelo, Splinter sat Raphael in his high chair. Splinter was conscious of the fact that this made Raphael stand out from his brothers but he could not think of any other options. The boy was too small to sit in a kitchen chair even with cushions. He was also still very weak, which made sitting in a high chair where he was more secured, much safer. He just hoped it would not be necessary for long.

Splinter handed Raphael his spoon and once seated himself, they commenced eating.