Leo felt defeated as he left the dojo. No amount of willpower could settle his mind, and his attempts to meditate had left him utterly frustrated. Fighting with Raph was nothing new; the two of them had practically made a career out of arguing over the years. With the added pressure of Splinter's illness, however, the tension felt worse than normal.

I wouldn't care so much what Raph did, if he'd just say something before he did it. His unpredictable red-masked brother was giving him far more headaches than necessary. But Raph has stepped up to help with Master Splinter too, particularly when the docs didn't want Donny to go near him because of those flu symptoms. All I really want is for Raph to communicate with me. I don't get understand why that's impossible.

The blue-masked turtle hesitated in his step when he heard quiet voices exchanging words, and peered around the corner of the hall into the living area. Donatello was kneeling on the floor by the couch, and Raphael was standing to his right. Leonardo opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as his red-masked brother shifted and he could see Splinter lying on the couch too.

"Sensei, you'd be more comfortable in your own bed," Raphael insisted.

"I told Michelangelo I would wait," the rat returned stubbornly. "He asks so little."

"Master, if Donny says you should be in bed, then I'm going with him." The gentleness in Raphael's normally gruff tone had the effect of dissipating some of Leonardo's annoyance on the spot. "Don't fight us on this. You know I'll take you there myself if you don't let Don help you."

"I cannot choose when to retire?"

"Yeah, it's your choice," Raph allowed. "You gonna walk there yourself, or do I have to carry you? You get to pick."

Splinter grumbled something that Leo couldn't hear, but then shifted to the edge of the couch, caving much faster than he'd expected.

"Give me your arm, Sensei," Donatello instructed.

Their Master gave the purple-masked turtle a hard look. "Are you going to try and make up lost time all in one day?"

Leonardo almost smiled. Going overboard because he'd missed a week with Splinter did sound like something Don might do, but in this case, even he'd allow it.

"I'm only going to listen to your lungs, Sensei," Donny said firmly.

Splinter mumbled something else under his breath as he shuffled toward the other end of the hallway with Donatello on his heels. Leonardo stayed where he was around the corner until the two of them had disappeared into his father's quarters. Leo cleared his throat as he entered the living area, and his other brother whipped around, startled.

"Where'd you come from? How long have you been there?"

The suspicion in Raphael's voice made Leonardo feel defensive, but he steadied his demeanor.

"Not long." When he walked farther into the room, his eyes were drawn to his brother's muddied pads and the dirt engrained into his cheek. "What did…how did you get so dirty?"

"I ticked off Mikey, and then we made up – his style." Raphael shrugged and pointed to a pile of soiled towels at the bottom of the stair. "I came down to throw some stuff in the washer, and I got sidetracked."

Leo took a sharp breath. "Splinter wandered out of his room again?"

"Again?"

"I ran into him in the kitchen last night. He was even more resistant then than he was just now."

The red-masked turtle folded his arms across his plastron. "He don't sound good, Leo. I don't like this; it doesn't make any sense." Anger flashed in his amber eyes before he trained them downwards. "I swear this is getting worse. Why's it gotta be Sensei?"

There didn't seem to be a correct way to answer the question, so Leonardo didn't try. "I've noticed it too. Even the way he's fighting back, trying to hold on to some independence…it feels like he's overcompensating."

Raphael nodded, absentmindedly scratching the dried mud on the back of his neck. "Doc is still talking like they expect this thing with Splinter to blow over, but I don't know if he believes that." He raised his eyes and gazed at Leonardo solemnly. "You should have heard the way he sounded before we woke him up."

Leo swallowed. "I have heard it, Raph. I've been listening…there's simply nothing I can do about it. I talked to Don earlier today, but he didn't tell me anything new."

Raph snorted. "Donny probably wouldn't tell you anything right away even if they did know something else. What if this doesn't just blow over, Leo? What if it's more than that?"

Leonardo didn't trust himself to answer his brother without getting emotional, but he didn't feel like he could evade the question. "I'd rather not cross that bridge until we come to it."

"I'd rather not cross it at all."

Raphael's stubborn unwillingness to accept what was out of his control was comfortably familiar to Leonardo, and he managed to crack a smile. "I'm with you, Raph." He tapped his brother's shoulder and chuckled when he noticed the mud caked on his shell. "You need a shower, bro."

Raphael grinned suddenly. "You shoulda seen it though, Leo. I totally owned the Pipsqueak."

"It looks like you paid for it."

"It's not as much fun to tease Mikey when he's mad at you."

"It's not wise to provoke him either, is it? You do realize that this probably isn't over."

"Of course it ain't over – this is Mike we're talking about."

Leonardo laughed, and the red-masked turtle gave him a dirty look.

"Sure, you think it's funny. I'm the one the Shellhead is always gunning for!"

"It's only because he loves you so much." Leo's snicker was cut short when a soft-solid object struck him in the back of the head and broke up in a dark cascade.

"I love you too, Leo!" the orange-masked turtle chortled from the overlook.

Leonardo clenched his jaw as he wiped grime off the side of his face. "Did he really just hit me with a mud ball?"

Raphael guffawed loudly. "It's not mud, Leo – it's love!"

The blue-masked turtle sighed. "I'm blaming you for this."

"That's cool, Fearless. You go ahead and blame me, and I'll beat ya to the shower."

"You can try."

When both turtles raced for the stairs, a small pang of guilt resounded in the back of Leonardo's mind, but it was temporary. For a few fleeting seconds, he wanted nothing more than to embrace the normality of the moment.

Michelangelo tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it expertly in his mouth. He repeated the action several times, going for a little more loft with each turn. The orange-masked turtle threw it higher yet, but when he opened his mouth the final time, he was rewarded with nothing but air. He jerked his head around to watch Leonardo scarf the popcorn kernel he'd just stolen from him. "Hey! That popcorn had my name on it."

The oldest turtle smirked. "I didn't notice. Are you saving any for the rest of us?"

"Do you think I'd let you guys go without?"

Leo gave him a skeptical look.

"I hid the bowl one time, Leo, only to be funny!"

"Scoot over," the blue-masked turtle told him. "I'm sure you've already consumed your share of the popcorn."

Mike grinned. "I'll fight you for it! If you can take me dow—"

Before he'd even finished the sentence, Leonardo pinched a nerve in his shoulder and leveled him flat on the rug. "Okay. Now what I should I do?"

The orange-masked turtle laughed nervously. "You're not still mad 'cause I spread the love, are ya, bro?"

Leo smiled smugly. "I don't like to waste time being angry. It's more fun to plot revenge."

"I don't think it was that big of a deal, Leo."

His brother chuckled. "I may not come on as strongly as you, Mikey, but I like having a little fun of my own."

"Uh huh. And when exactly is this fun going to kick in?"

"I'll give you some time to wonder." Leonardo rose from his knees and dusted off his hands. "And the popcorn is mine."

Mike sat up on his elbows. "You sore because you can't make your own?" he teased.

"All I have to do is put a bag in the microwave, Mike. It's not rocket science."

"You're forbidden," Don announced from the hallway. "Don't even think about it, Leo. I've repaired my last microwave for a few months."

"I'm not taking responsibility for it shorting out!" the blue-masked turtle protested. "It was defective!"

"Maybe your cooking skills are defective," Mike murmured softly.

Leonardo towered over him threateningly. "You want to try saying that a little louder?"

"No," he squeaked.

"That's what I thought."

The instant the oldest turtle backed off, Mike leaped to his feet. "How's Sensei look, Donny? It was nice to see him eating a bit more."

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "The breathing treatment I gave him this afternoon had a positive impact on the function of his lungs. He sounds better tonight than he did earlier today. Hopefully he'll get some good sleep for a change."

Mike smiled. "Between you and the docs, how could he not get better? Sensei has to be close to the other side of this."

Donatello's swallow was almost imperceptible. "We're keeping an eye on him, bro. Master has had a couple of these breathing treatments now, and they definitely seem to make a difference in the short-term."

Michelangelo nudged his brother's shoulder. "It's not like anything could keep Sensei down forever. Ninjutsu masters are too cool for that."

Donny nodded again, but his smile was forced. "Master Splinter is strong, and he's been healthy for a long time. I still think he can beat this."

"That's right, Donny. Have a little faith."

Donatello's grin felt more genuine as he shifted to look at Leonardo. "Did you manage to salvage any popcorn from him?"

"I know nothing of this popcorn of which you speak," Leo said innocently.

Don groaned. "Not you too. Hasn't anyone in this family heard of sharing?"

Mike gave him a devious smile. "I can share the love."

The purple-masked turtle's expression became wary. "You can't attack me, Mikey. I'm still recovering!"

Michelangelo laughed. "You can't use that excuse forever!"

Donatello exchanged a glance with Leonardo. "Why do we let him do this? We outnumber him!"

"Maybe because I'm a master at setting up a false sense of security?" Mike suggested.

In the blink of an eye Leonardo swept him off the couch a second time, pinning him to the floor. "I'm not so bad myself, Mike."

The orange-masked turtle held out his hands in surrender. "You wouldn't gang up on a poor guy, right?"

Leo shook his head. "You'll just have to wonder."