A/N: Hey Everyone!
I hope you'll enjoy this chapter than the other. It's a bit longer! Thanks to everyone who reveiwed!
Happy Reading!
The one thing Michelangelo hated more than vegetables were needles.
Long, thin, filled with fluid needles that pierce your skin and cause such immense pain that you just want to scream! Michelangelo snorted, he knew he was over exaggerating, but he just couldn't stop from squriming at the thought of getting injected.
Just after the reveal of Michelangelo's rat bites, the young orange banded turtle had hobbled into the lair with Leonardo supporting him. He was seated on the couch and had his small wounds cleaned out thoroughly and then wrapped with bandages and gauze. Soon after, Donatello had taken a small blood sample, much to his dismay and disappeared into his lab with Master Splinter,
"Mike, will yah shutup?!" Raphael told him as he switched through the channels. "I can hear yah whimperin' from here. It's just a lousy shot."
Michelangelo glared at him. "Well, at least you don't see me freaking out over a bug." he retorted. This remark, achieved him a smack upsode the head. "Oww.." he rubbed his head, "You see, that just proves my point."
Raphael raised his hand to inflict more damagae upon his little brother, when suddenly the younger turtle flinched and quickly reached forward and scratched at his ankle. Seeing this as punishment enough, Raphael smirked and leaned back against the couch.
"Michelangelo!" the owner of the voice made the turtle jump in surprise. "Donny said not to scratch."
"But, Leoooo." he whined, ceasing the scratching as his older brother came to stand before him, arms crossed and stoned faced. Michelangelo sighed in defeat, settling to bite on his lip instead and sat back, jiggling his injured foot to help somehow relieve the tingling, burning pain.
Leonardo turned his gaze onto Raphael, who seemed unaffected and continuted to ignore his presence and immerse himself in the wrestling match. The eldest turtle opened his mout to say something - probably to scold, when Donatello appeared into the room with Master Splinter by his side.
At their arrival, Michelangelo let out a small shriek, diving under the protection of the orange blankets he had wrapped himself in. If he had to be injected, then he was going to put one hell of a fight. His brothers, used to this reaction in the past, were ready to hold down the struggling and shaking turtle if needed.
"It's all right, Mikey." Donatello said, smiling. "You won't be needing any sort of shot."
Michelangelo let out a breath as he peered out from behind his thin shield material. When he noted no needle, he let down his guard and grinned. "That's a relief."
"You should be thankful, though." Donatello continued. "It's impossible for cold blooded animals to get rabies, but just for a precaution, I gave Master Splinter a rabies vaccination. He'll be given it once year."
Michelangelo shrugged. "Rather him than me." At this he received three smacks and a whack by a staff upside his head. "Heeeey - ouuuch...Aw, c'mon, I don't need a bump on my head, either. The last thing I need is brain damage."
Raphael snorted. "Too easy to insult you on that, Mikey. I ain't even gonna try to comeback."
"Har, Har, Har." Michelangelo snapped, with light amusement. Then he looked to his brainy brother. "So, I'm okay?"
"Yeah, Mike, you're fine. Just - don't scratch or I'll have to tape mittens over your hands." Donatello replied with a smirk.
"As much as I find that amusing, I get a feeling you're not joking." Michelangelo said suspicously.
"Nothing gets passed you." Leonardo said, teasingly.
Michelangelo looked to Master Splinter for a direct answer, but the old rat simply smiled mischieviously. "Goodnight, my sons." he said, bowing his head in departure. "Oh, and Donatello I believe Michelangelo keeps the mittens in the right top cupboard of the kitchen - just for future refrence."
"What?!" Michelangelo squeaked, sitting up straight. "No, I don't!" he turned his head and glared at his father's retreating figure. "Master Splinter, how could you betray me?"
"Can you take these off now, Don?" Michelangelo whined for the umpteenth time as he tried to pick up the can of soda before him. It slipped at his grasp and tumbled to the floor, spilling it's green liquidy contents onto the stoned floor.
"Maybe if you would have taken my advice Monday, I wouldn't have had to bind your hands with mittens." Donatello answered as he sipped his morning coffee.
"But, it's been five days!" Michelangelo shot back, pouting. "The bite marks are almost gone and they don't itch, or burn, or tingle, or hurt, or - "
"Don, take them freakin' things off." Raphael growled from he sleepily sat at the kitchen table. "I can't stand to hear his whiney voice at this hour of tha mornin'. S'too early."
"Good, you're all ready for practice." Leonardo said, appearing in the room and causing all three of his brothers to flinch in surprise.
"I'm really gettin' sick of this mood of yours, Leo." Raphael muttered, glaring fron under half closed lids.
Leonardo chose to ignore his younger brother's comment and instead turned to Michelangelo. "Are you feeling better, Mikey? Seems to me you're - "
With a thud, Michelangelo dropped to the floor, clutching his ankle in mock hurt. "Ow ow ow! It hurts! The pain...the agony...the - OW!" he sat up, pouting and clutched his foot. "Leo, get your fat three toed foot off my leg! You're cutting off the cirrculation, dude!"
"Diagnosis, Don?" Leonardo asked over his shoulder.
"What do you call hopping around the kitchen, begging me to take off the mittens from his hands?" Donatello asked, smirking triumphantly at the look he was getting from his younger brother.
"First Master Splinter and now you." Michelangelo muttered, picking himself up. "What is this world coming to?"
After much teasing and laughing and smart remarks, Michelangelo's mittens were removed after a serious talk about no more scratching or rubbing his still healing bites. Before morning practice, Donatello sent his little brother to the bathroom to wash and bandage the bites on his ankles. The scratches at the base of his neck had completely healed and vanished, leaving small dark scar of rememberance.
Michelangelo turned on the sink, humming merrily to himself as he unwrapped his old bandanges to clean out the puss that grew and dried overnight. This time, however, the bite wasn't pussing at all, it was bleeding. Struck with confusion, Michelangelo grabbed a soapy wet cloth and slowly dabbed at his ankle, hissing in pain as the blood seeped through the white material. Figuring this was part of the healing process, the young turtle made sure the bleeding was stopped before he applied gauze and wrapped new bandages around his injury.
"Not too bad, Mikester." He muttered to himself proudly.
"Mikey?" Leonardo materilazed at the entrance of the bathroom.
"Stop with the vanishing and appearing out of the shadows act, dude." Michelangelo scolded after he jumped five feet into the air.
"Do you need any help?" Leonardo asked. "You're taking a longer time than usual."
Michelangelo recalled the bleeding of his injured foot and deiced not to say anything about it. "No, dude. I'm cool, just had to rebandage a few times - mistakes, y'know?"
"Well, come on. We're wating on you."
Michelangelo grinned as he followed his older brother into the Dojo where Master Splinter and his two brothers were waiting pateintly on him. "Sorry." he said, grabbing his nunchucks from their place on the rack.
"Now that we are all present, let us begin with a sparring session." Master Splinter began. "I want Leonardo with Donatello and Raphael with Michelangelo."
A groan escaped the throat of the youngest turtle as he faced off with Raphael. He knew, despite his injuries that his brother would not go easy on him. The look in his eyes were enough to confirm it. Michelangelo clutched his chucks, preparing hismelf for an attack, only minorly aware of the warm liquid he felt seeping through his bandages. After a few moments, Michelangelo lashed out, his nuchucks twirrling as he aimed a blow at his brother's torso. Raphael ducked, turning and kicking Michelangelo's shell forward to the ground.
A surge of pain struck through his ankle as he hit the ground. Michelangelo hissed, glaring at his brother and quickly pushed himself up, sending a swift and powerful kick with is good leg at Raphael, who snorted, catching his foot and pushed him forward. Michelangelo stumbled back, but regained his footing and sent his brother to the ground with a hit to his chin. Michelangelo stepped forward and brought his good foot down, but Raphael rolled away, unknowingly sweeping Michelangelo's injured foot from underneath him.
This rough contact, elected a cry of pain as Michelangelo tumbled to the ground, his injured foot now seen with dark liquid that sent drops of blood onto the blue mats of the Dojo.
"Stop!" Master Splinter shouted.
Donatello and Leonardo who had been sparring, came to a halt and looked around in confusion. Raphael was knelt by a whinpering Michelangelo, who's bandage was soaking up minor blood from his rat bites.
"What happened?" Donatello asked, appearing by his younger brother as he inspected the damage.
"Nothing!" Michelangelo replied. "I washed it out like you said, but it started bleeding and I washed it out some more. It stopped, so I thought it was okay, but it really hurt and now I feel like my foot is being shredded."
"Maybe after Leo stepped on your leg, it caused some of the blood to -." Donatello said, wiping the bloodied bite with the used gauze.
"Well, a little advice to Leon." Michelangelo said. "Lose some weight - owww!"
"You asked for that one." Raphael said, smirking as Michelangelo rubbed his head where Leonardo had smacked him.
"Michelangelo, enough of your foolishness." Master Splinter said. "You are exempt from practice and patrolling until your bites are fully healed."
"But, it's just a bit of blood!" Michelangelo exclaimed, but winced harshly when Donatello poked it softly with the gauze pad. "That hurt!"
"Point proven." Donatello said.
"Should we bring out the mittens again?" Leonardo asked, good naturally, earning smiles from the other except Michelangelo who sent him a look of betrayal.
"First, Sensei, then Donny and now you. " Michelangelo said, hurt. "You know, I expected this more from Raph."
"Yeah, even I'm surprised at mahself." then Raphael smirked. "He re-stashed the mittens. They're in the kictchen, under the sink."
Michelangelo grunted, throwing his hands up in the air. "I rest my case."
A/N: Not too good with the sparring scene, but I hoped you liked it anyway. Don't worry, this is only the beginning. There's alot more in the next chapter. hehe
Review, please? Pretty please...with a Mikey on top?
Caro