Raphael curled up on the couch, only for Mikey and Leo to join him on either side. He groaned, feeling quite a bit ill now that his mind was no longer occupied with finding and talking to Donatello about his problem. "So Raph, are you going to tell us what went on in there?" Leonardo gave him a knowing look and a pat on the shell.

"Don't touch me."

"Someone's cranky today," Mikey said in a sing-song voice. "But I guess I'd be, too." The orange-masked turtle leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. "Yannow, you can tell us. We're not gonna judge you too hard. And it's not like we don't already know." This got quite the reaction out of Raphael, who jolted up to yell at them for eavesdropping on his and Donnie's conversation - bad idea. His face went green, a paler green than usual, and in a matter of moments he was leaning over the couch and retching. "Oh jeez. I'll go get a bucket..." Michelangelo bolted out of the room, leaving Leo to attempt to comfort their sick brother.

The oldest turtle sat with his brother, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, Raph." A sickening splatter sounded from behind the couch. "...Eww." At that moment Leonardo was formulating a way to tell their sensei and father, in the least alarming way possible, that their brother had become the host for a man-sized cockroach's egg. Or, eggs. So far, he had nothing, but a leader had to know when not to give up. And now was one of those times. Mikey dashed back towards them, skidding on his heels as gravity and the sheer speed with which he'd come running nearly took him all the way past his brothers. He handed the bucket off to Raphael, who had miraculously managed to keep the rest in until the literal second the bucket was under his head.

Once Raphael had finished throwing up what, to him, felt like every internal organ he had and then some, he collapsed with his head falling on Leonardo's lap. He must be feeling really awful, Leo thought. A quiet groan came from the usually temperamental turtle's mouth, muffled by his brother's leg. "How're we gonna tell Master Splinter, Leo?" Mikey asked. "Unless there's a way to tell him that we've got turtleroaches-"

"What?"

"Turtleroaches," Mikey continued. "Because they've got one cockroach parent and one turtle p-"

Both Leo and Raph cut him off this time. "We get it, Mikey," came their combined reply. "We're not naming it," Raphael said, his voice a muffled murmur. "We're getting it out and then we're squishing it. End of story." Leo gave his shell a gentle pat again, and this time Raphael's protest was less driven. "How long's it gonna be, anyhow?"

Donatello chose that moment, as if by fate, to poke his head out of his lab and survey the scene before him. "So we're all familiar with the situation, then?" The tallest turtle took a seat beside his brothers. "It won't be long, Raph. Cockroach eggs take a few days at most to hatch. So I'd say... probably Wednesday. Thursday at the latest."

Raphael lifted his head from Leonardo's lap. "Thursday? Donnie, I don't think you realize, but it's Monday. You really expect me to deal with this every day for the next three days? What about training? We can't lie about it and you know that!"

"We'll figure something out," Donnie said. "If you can make it through training without puking every ten minutes, no one will have to know but the four of us."

"And your spy-roach!"

A chorus of "MIKEY." rang throughout the living room.

Leonardo stood, helping Raph stand with his wobbly knees. "C'mon, guys. It's late. Really late. We need to go to bed."

"You're gonna be okay, right, Raph?"

"I'll be fine, Mikey. Don't get your shell in a bunch," Raphael muttered as Leo helped him back to his room. Michelangelo watched as they left, looking up at his brother, who remained. "I'm worried about him. What if the turtleroach hurts him? Or," he went on, remembering a comic he'd been unfortunate enough to have remembered reading, "what if it chews through his insides like that alien in one of his comics?"

Donatello gave Mikey a pat on the head, and, before heading to bed, replied: "He'll be okay. I promise. We're not going to lose him and that's that."

"What about the turtleroach? Can we keep it?"

"We'll see, Mikey." The two younger turtles then went off to bed, all four anxious about the events of the next few days.