Merry Christmas everyone, here is my next chapter. I am happy to say that my exams are over and school is officially out for me so I will have a lot of time to write. I really want to update this story again before Christmas but I'm not sure if that will happen or not. Regardless though, I have a special Chrismas present for all of my readers for my next update.

Just a hint but I update a lot faster if I get lots of reviews ;)

Disclaimer: Yeah I know I don't own them, you don't have to rub it in!

Chapter 4 – Splinter

It has been some time since my sons left on patrol and as I settle down for my meditations I am struck with an overwhelming sense of foreboding, I try to stay calm but somehow I am aware that at least one of my sons will be coming home grievously injured or perhaps not at all.

Years ago when I found myself as a surrogate father to four children who were so special and yet looked so different than those of the outside world I strove to raise them as ninja knowing that it was all that I had to offer them as a sense of purpose in a world where they were unlikely to be accepted. As a teacher and a ninja master, I take undeniable joy in my pupils who have been so diligent and have taken my teachings to heart. They stick to the shadows, unseen warriors and protectors of the unsuspecting city; they are all selfless and strong of heart and spirit, and I could not be more proud. However, as a father I cannot help but fear for the health and safety of my sons; every time they leave the lair, I must fight the worry that one or all of them may be defeated at the hands of an enemy. Normally I am able to alleviate such concerns through meditation, but on some nights such as this, my fears are proven true.

I am already waiting at the entrance of the lair when my sons arrive carrying their injured brother; up until this moment I was able to delude myself that my more overprotective side had usurped my senses and that I was blowing everything out of proportion, but now I understand that things may be as bad or worse than I originally imagined.

After a brief exchange with Donatello, I find myself following my sons into the infirmary and pondering how an entire wall fell onto my second eldest. From my vantage point at the door, I can already tell that the situation is grave.

"Um Master Splinter would you mind giving me a hand here?" I force myself to tear my focus away from Raphael and onto Donatello; I am aware that my own skills will be needed in this situation because other than Donatello, I am the only one with the knowledge to treat severe injuries such as these.

"Certainly my son, what do you need?" I enter the infirmary and listen as Donatello herds his brothers outside of the room. I take a closer look at Raphael; his breathing is shallow and slightly erratic and he is much too pale for my liking. Donatello joins me at the bedside and takes a few calming breaths before analyzing his brother's injuries and telling me what he would have me to do; I am perfectly content with taking orders from my highly intelligent son in this situation as I know that he much more qualified to assess the situation than I am.

After about two hours, Donatello and I have treated the worst of Raphael's injuries; Donatello seems quite concerned with the long jagged crack in his brother's plastron, it is possible that one of his broken ribs may have pierced Raphael's left lung causing a slight pneumothorax, a collapsed lung. I watch as with great care, my most patient son inserts a chest tube through the already cracked plastron to reinflate the lung, assuring me that the tube can be removed in a few days and that the crack will eventually heal.

"Donatello. I believe your brother is still in grave danger; though we have repaired his internal injuries, I fear he has lost much blood."

"I agree Master Splinter, I was going to ask Mike if he could donate, he's the only one with the blood type to match Raph…but there is one other thing that I am worried about…"

"What is it my son?" Donatello moves to the head of the infirmary bed and fingers the newly stitched wound spanning a large portion of Raphael's head, I repress an involuntary shudder at the memory of the gash before it had been stitched up; underneath the blood seeping from the wound, it was possible to see Raphael's skull which had a visible crack in it exposing his brain.

"With a head wound as bad as this, it is quite possible that Raph could have severe brain damage; it's really anyone's guess what may happen from here on out. Right now he is simply unconscious but he could easily slip into a coma from here and if he manages to come out of that state at all, he may never be the same again…Master... Father…" Donatello takes a deep breath, looking for all of the world like a lost child; I beckon him forward and he kneels at my feet, silent tears falling from his eyes. "I…I don't know what to do… we can't lose Raph, I don't want to bury my brother."

"My son…" I sigh and pull him into a hug, cuddling him the way I did when he was a child plagued by nightmares, he buries his head into my fur. "You must not lose faith in your brother, he is strong and I know that he will not leave us alone without a fight, in the meantime the rest of us must do all that we can to make him comfortable. Now you should go and fetch Michelangelo, Raphael must have that transfusion or the head injury will not matter.

"Your right Master Splinter, I need to be strong for Raph, now's not the time to be all emotional. I apologize Master." Donatello pulls away from me and I feel as if my heart is breaking as he bows deeply before me in shame of his tears. I gently pull him up and cradle him to my chest again and whisper in his ear.

"Do not apologize for fearing for your brother, it is a natural response and you have done very well in caring for him this evening. Your quick thinking in the heat of the moment may be what saves Raphael in the long run; remember that no matter what happens, I am very proud of you my son." He manages a weak smile and stands up then, composing himself as he prepares to go out and face his brothers.

"I won't be long Master, please let me know if anything happens while I'm gone."

"Of course." With that, Donatello moves to leave the infirmary and I pull a chair near the bed and take Raphael's uninjured hand into my own.

"My son, if you can hear me then you must concentrate on my voice. You must fight to come back to us, your spirit is strong and unyielding and I know that you will not leave us willingly. I love you my son, my Raphael." After some time sitting and whispering encouragement to my son, I sense the approach of Donatello and a very distressed Michelangelo just as the door flies open so forcefully that it is nearly separated from its frame.

"Oh Raph…" Michelangelo whispers as he approaches the bed with a desolate look on his face and tears in his eyes; I stand up to allow him to move closer to his brother but we all freeze at the sound of a weak groan coming from the bed. I look down and am elated to see that Raphael's eyes are slowly fluttering open; Michelangelo grips his hand gently. "Raphie… you're okay."

"M-Mikey...?" My son's sluggish voice is probably the best thing that my ears have heard in quite some time; the teary grin's on both Donatello's and Michelangelo's faces suggest likewise. Suddenly, however, the happy and relieved expressions on our faces turn to ones of complete horror as Raphael begins jerking uncontrollably, his eyes crash shut and he begins to make the most terrible gurgling noises.

"Oh no Raph! Mikey step back!" Donatello flies into action at this new development and between the two of us we attempt to prevent Raphael from aggravating his injuries but we are also both painfully aware of our inability to stop the seizure until it has run its course. After several painful minutes of watching and waiting, my son's convulsions seem to slow before finally ceasing all together and leaving him unnaturally still.

"Oh God Don. Is he breathing?" Michelangelo whispers from the corner of the room where he has slid to the floor sobbing quietly. Donatello busies himself checking Raphael over before nodding in affirmation. "What happened to him Don? I mean he was fine and then just started seizing out of nowhere."

"I believe that the convulsions were a result of his brain injury; the trauma to his head must have caused some electrical impulses to fire in his brain, causing a chain reaction that resulted in a seizure. Unfortunately, it will be hard to say just how much damage this episode may have caused or if it will be the last." Donatello takes a deep breath and seems to note the thin sheen of sweat that is now present on Raphael's brow and the slight tremors that are running through his body. "For now though, it is imperative that we get your blood into him, all this excess trauma to his body is causing him to go into shock, we can worry about the after effects of the seizure later."

"I agree, my son. Michelangelo, I know that you are frightened for your brother right now but you need to try and be strong for him now." Michelangelo takes a deep and calming breath before rising to his feet and again approaching his unconscious brother.

"Okay let's do this!" He manages to say with false cheeriness and I admire his resolve. At this point I excuse myself from the infirmary in search of my eldest son; I find him deep in meditation in the dojo. Leonardo jumps from his spot before I even set foot in the dojo; he has managed to hone his awareness skills to an impressive level.

"Master Splinter? How's Raph? What's going on?" He looks tired and by looking into his eyes I am able to see all of his worry, fear, and …. guilt?... over tonight's occurrences. These emotions only seem to deepen as I update him on his brother's condition but when I attempt to enquire about his feelings and to get the full story of what has taken place tonight, he seems to shut down all together.

After a few moments I rise and take my leave of him in order to check on the others still in the infirmary, a quick glance behind me confirms that Leonardo has begun an intense workout with his katana perhaps to soothe his frustrations. I sigh as I make my way through the lair; all of my sons are hurting now and it pains me to be unable to help them. Sometimes a father's role can only be to watch, and wait, and pray.

Next Chapter is in Leo's POV!