Leonardo was hungry when he wandered into the kitchen, but the thought of food faded to the background as he watched how vigorously his orange-masked brother was stirring a pan on the stove. It wasn't unusual for Michelangelo to put a lot of energy into his cooking, but the jerky motions he was currently using were more indicative that something was wrong.
"Mikey? What's going on?"
"What do you think?" The short reply was further evidence of his youngest brother's state of mind.
"Do you want to stop doing that for a minute and talk to me?"
"I have to finish this."
"O-kay, but that doesn't mean you ca—"
"Leave it alone," his brother advised him, never taking his eyes off the stove.
"I don't understand." Leonardo folded his arms, refusing to move away. "Did I do something?"
Mike picked up the pan and dropped it into the sink with a resounding bang. "Not everything is about you, Leo." He added a small amount of water to the pot and stirred it once more.
"Why are you acting like this?"
His brother ignored the question as he transferred hot cereal into a bowl. "Would you mind taking this to Sensei? I'm going to get started on breakfast for the docs."
Leonardo took the proffered bowl, but continued gazing at Mike. "I really don't want to go anywhere until you tell me what your problem is."
"Leave it alone," Mike repeated, and turned around to face the counter. "Sensei's tea is by the microwave."
The blue-masked turtle grabbed the tea cup and slowly left the kitchen, glancing back over his shoulder as he did. I don't get what could have made him that mad. This isn't like him at all, but I can't force him to talk to me. In the short amount of time it took to travel the distance to Splinter's quarters, he wracked his brain to go over their last conversation. I don't remember saying anything to Mike that could have triggered this.
The sound of another door shutting made Leonardo turn his head right before he was going to enter Splinter's quarters.
"Good morning," April called.
"Morning," he answered, not finding it in himself to add a "good". "Did you get enough sleep?"
"Is that code for saying that I look wasted?"
Leonardo almost cracked a smile. "No, you don't…but our night was rather eventful."
"It's nothing that some of your brother's coffee won't cure. You don't think Don finished it all off last night, do you?"
The turtle snorted. "Don, run out of coffee? He'd never let it happen. It would practically be a doom's day event."
April came farther down the hall to meet him. "Probably. You okay, Leo?"
He shrugged. "Just one more day when I don't understand what's happening around me."
"The docs are telling you something, aren't they?"
"It's not them. Something's bothering Mike, and he won't tell me what it is. I'm not even sure if he's angry with me, or in general. Tread carefully in the kitchen, okay?"
The woman nodded meekly. "I'll watch my step. Thanks for the warning."
Leonardo walked into the dimmer interior of his Master's room, and found Splinter staring off into space. "Sensei? I have your breakfast."
The rat blinked, and whatever spell he'd been under was broken. "Oh. Thank you, my son."
When Splinter's gaze still felt distant, Leonardo cleared his throat. "Am I disturbing you, Father?"
"No, Leonardo. My mind is occupied – that is all."
"Are you ready to eat?"
"Not quite yet. I wonder, would you mind asking Doctor Sloan to come see me? One of those treatments for my breathing would be appreciated. Michelangelo also told me that he intervened for Raphael last night."
Ah. He wants to milk Marcus for information.
"Yes, Sensei. Would you like me to keep your breakfast warm for you?"
"It will not take long, Leonardo. You may leave it."
"All right." Leo started for the door, but then looked back. "Father, did Mike tell you if anything was bothering him? He's acting strange."
Splinter sighed, his breath catching in his throat.
"He wouldn't talk to me, Sensei. I don't think I said anything to upset him, but…I haven't been very good at this lately, not the way I've been fighting with Raph. I drove him to run last night…and he could have been killed."
"You will soon find it impossible to stand if you try to bear the weight of this family on your own, Leonardo. Your youngest brother is not angry with you…he too has much on his mind. As for Raphael, he chose his own path, whether it was right or wrong. While you are responsible for helping look after your brothers, you are not accountable for all their actions."
Splinter dismissed Leonardo in the least painful fashion that he could think of, which was to request medical assistance from one of their doctors. He wanted to hear the entire story of what had happened with Raphael, and he didn't want to be forced to explain Michelangelo's behavior to his oldest son yet.
The rat wasn't happy that the orange-masked turtle had discerned what he'd been harboring between himself and Dr. Barrows for the moment. There were will be a time to discuss everything openly, but it has not yet come. I did not even confirm anything for Michelangelo, though his own perception seems to have picked up enough.
Splinter dearly wanted to comfort his youngest son and assure him that the circumstances were temporary, but he didn't have it in him to lie to Michelangelo. He felt terrible for upsetting the orange-masked turtle and for not being up front with Leonardo about it, but it didn't seem like the appropriate time to discuss his eventual death. That moment must be mine to choose and control. I will not act on a whim or based on what someone else is feeling.
His mind raced with images, memories so vivid that he felt like he could reach out and touch them with his hands. From the first vulnerable moment he'd met the ones who were destined to be his children, to training them day in and day out to defend themselves, but still protect each other.
They will continue to protect each other, just like last night. These arguments and disagreements between my oldest two are not rooted in hatred for one another. When they need to come together, they will. I have to believe that. I have to trust that the bonds are strong enough to withstand anything.
His door cracked open, and Marcus appeared.
"Good morning, Master Splinter."
"Dr. Sloan." He immediately sat up a bit farther. "I understand that I owe you my gratitude."
"Your gratitude? Oh…you mean Raph? I got pretty lucky is all."
Splinter shook his head. "You risked your life for him. That is no small thing."
The dark-haired doctor ducked his head. "It's nothing compared to the actions of your sons out on the streets, night after night. They risk themselves for complete strangers. That's why Raphael got into trouble to begin with. He rescued a family that some bad men were trying to kill, even though he barely had the strength to function. Didn't matter, he went anyway, because that's the kind of awesome son you raised."
Splinter smiled faintly. "My thanks to you remains."
"Your welcome, Master Splinter. I wish I could have prevented him from being hurt altogether."
"You did more than enough, Dr. Sloan."
The man smiled shyly. "Well…that's enough about me. Leonardo said you requested a breathing treatment."
Splinter nodded. "Yes, I feel it is necessary. Perhaps you could fill me in on Raphael's condition while we are in progress?"
Marcus reached to turn on the mask he'd brought with him, fiddling with one of the settings before hooking it over Splinter's mouth. "Raph's head injury is under control. His fever…not so much. He's over 105 degrees at the moment, and the hydralin isn't helping."
The rat's eyebrows rose.
"There's also an issue with chest congestion which is hindering Raphael's breathing. He's not producing a cough, and it's led to fluid building up in his lungs."
Splinter's forehead creased with concern. "This does not sound like what Donatello had."
"Luke is fairly certain that Raphael contracted H1N1. Whether Donny had a milder form of it or something else entirely, it honestly doesn't matter at this point. We're just working on getting Raph well. Luke mentioned that Don suggested trying something you used to do for them, a poultice?"
The rat nodded eagerly. "Yes. It could be beneficial for him."
"Do you have a certain formula that you used to follow?"
Splinter nodded once more. "There is not much to it, Dr. Sloan. I can still tell you the recipe from memory."
"That would be good, but let's finish your breathing treatment first."
"Will you let me see Raphael?"
Marcus hesitated from answering right away. "I don't know. Luke will need to have the final say on whether it's safe or not. We're not allowing Leo or Mike contact to be safe…but I have to see what Luke thinks."
"If Raphael is this ill, I do not mind taking the risk."
Marcus gave him a stern look. "Do you want to end up with the flu on top of whatever else you're dealing with?"
"No, but there must be a way to make it happen. He is my son. Please ask Dr. Barrows to allow me to come. I feel that this is important."
"I'll do what I can," the man promised. "I'll need to follow your instructions for the poultice, in any case. I've never seen how this works."
Splinter shook his head. "It can induce a rather violent reaction, but I usually found it to be effective. Will you let me show you in person?"
"If Luke clears you, I'm game for anything."