TMNT are owned by Mirage. I'm too sleepy to say any more.

Aftermath Part B

Splinter looked horrible.

No one dared to tell him; his temper was short and if anyone brought it up, he would irrationally and stubbornly refuse to do as anyone suggested. He was wearing himself out watching with these two "foolish sons"; he rarely slept, and when he did, it was with one ear tuned to the slightest noise of either one. It was all they could do to get him to eat anything, much less sleep.

The first night, he was adamant about not moving from his position between the two futons, constantly watching each son, holding his own breath if one of them seemed to stop breathing, sighing out with relief as soon as he heard them exhale or inhale. He neglected his own injury, refusing any aide whatsoever- until April forcefully took care of it, daring him to challenge her in the process.

"I am quite fine, April!" he snapped.

"And I'm Karai!" she snapped back, roughly yanking him around, so taking the rat by surprise that he couldn't react as she quickly and efficiently removed the stained bandage from his head and began cleaning the large wound on his forehead- none too gently, judging from his sharp intake of breath and the uncharacteristically loud and sudden use of a word, in Japanese no less, that his sons had never ever remembered hearing him use before.

From there, she moved onto the incision that Bishop had started.

"Both this one plus the one on your forehead could use stitches, but we'll settle for these butterfly band aids," she decided, and then she moved on to deal with the various places where tubes and the I.V. drip had been inserted into his body.

When she was finished, she sat back on her heels, admiring her handiwork.

"There. I'm still not happy with that forehead wound. But I'm sure it's too late now to stitch it. Now, I know you refuse to move, but I want you to wrap up in this blanket, and drink this broth!" she ordered, and made sure he did both. She also placed a few pillows nearby. "I'll give you overnight, but you will eventually take a rest- even if I have to drug you!"

Splinter made a mental note to fetch his own tea.

It was long days and nights of waiting and watching. Everyone took it in turns to sit with them, even Professor Honeycutt, who did his utmost to convince their worried father that "I will awaken you at once, Master Splinter- please, I beg of you, get some rest!".

Leatherhead seemed to be the only one who didn't try to pressure Splinter into leaving the room to rest. And he had been the only one to coax Splinter into finally getting some sleep after that first night back.

"I do think that you should allow your sons to set up another bed in here, Master Splinter," he said the second day back. "You would still be nearby. They are holding their own, but what will we do if you fall ill from lack of sleep?"

"I understand everyone's concern," Splinter said softly. "But I- I just do not- I cannot risk-"

The large Crocodile looked into the eyes of a worried father, the eyes of a sleep-deprived, injured, highly worried father. He put one massive hand on Splinter's shoulder and gently squeezed.

"I swear to you, I will wake you at once. I will not let them pass without your being there for them. I give you my word."

He was very attentive and gentle, and persuasive to the point that Splinter, with a sigh that he had tried to hide, wrapped himself tightly in the blanket that April had forced on him the night before, and lay down on the floor, head on one of the pillows put there by April. He curled up on his side, and was out before he could worry about anything.

Granted he only slept for a few hours, but it was a start.

Leatherhead made sure no one disturbed him, and kept a close eye on both turtles.

He was a great help when Raph, with a sudden nightmare movement, had ripped the stitches in his leg. He had immediately and with great delicacy repaired the damage before Splinter, just waking up from this first sleep, could attempt it or Don could be sent for.

But in spite of the constant attention, in spite of the care with which they'd been doctored, things were not going well. Within twenty-four hours both of them had developed infections.

"I don't know," Don worried to Honeycutt and Splinter. "I know that we cleaned every wound and sterilized every tool. What if Bishop managed to introduce some mutated germ or something into them?"

"Bio-weapons?" Honeycutt mused. "Somehow I think even he would have refrained from that, Donatello. Those types of weapons are so hard to control- the least scratch, and you're the victim instead of the victor. I'm sure these are a natural infection, but to be safe, let us take some blood samples."

Both were feverish.

Raph was comatose from his injuries, and his plastron had a large gash in it that Splinter worried would never heal. He rarely moved except for sudden and brief jerks that indicated he was having some sort of nightmare. Fortunately he didn't rip open any more stitches, but it set everyone on edge when he would suddenly twitch like that, then lay perfectly still.

And he rarely reacted to any voice- except Michelangelo's, for some reason.

"Come on, Raphy boy- wake up long enough to drink this for me," he would say, as Don or Casey supported his limp form, and Raph would rally enough to swallow whatever Mike was trying to give him.

But other than that, he rarely moved, or noticed who was in the room with him. Except for Mikey.

Leo wasn't much better, dream-fighting and reliving the battle in his delirium.

"Raph, behind you! Look out!" another battle began, and Splinter once again had to keep close, to prevent him, too, from ripping stitches. He would grow so restless, shouting out challenges to Bishop, swearing that he would avenge his family, that Splinter would have to place his hand on his forehead and whisper in his ear the "banishment" he had made up all those years ago, to calm frightened turtle tots after horrible nightmares. This would help Leo calm down for a time- until the fever started up another dream-battle.

Splinter, Don and April feared for Leo's left arm, badly damaged and infected to the point of swelling. Yet there was no trace of gangrene- yet.

Late on the fourth night, Michelangelo came bursting into Splinter's room.

"Sensei! The Daimyo- he's here!"

Before Splinter could go out, the Daimyo had entered.

"Honored friend, I came to see why you didn't come to my son's celebration as planned. I began to fear- honored friend! What has happened?"

A brief explanation, and before Splinter could finish, the Daimyo had summoned his Master Healer and his assistants. A brief examination, an order for the proper medications, and the Master Healer took over, commending Splinter on the stitches, and ordering that all wounds must be washed at once with a mixture of green tea and a special medicine.

Splinter found himself watching rather than helping, as the Master Healer and his assistants worked for many hours to help his "foolish sons."

"I blame myself, my friend," the Daimyo said, as they watched the work of the Master Healer, while Don and Mikey brought them tea and other refreshments. "I should have insisted that you let me send you directly home that day, instead of allowing you to return by your usual route. After all you told me of your vision, and of this being, and then to have fallen into his grasp... I blame myself, my friend."

"No, noble Daimyo," Splinter replied. "It was fate. Just like this apparently was fate. My foolish sons were fated to do this deed."

He gazed at the Master Healer and his assistants again, and felt such gratitude he could barely articulate it to the Daimyo. A great weight had been lifted from his soul. He thanked him with tears streaming down his face, bowing many times. But the Daimyo stopped him from doing more, and just sat with him, and comforted him, father to father.

"There is no need, my honored friend," the Daimyo said. "Between us, there is no need."

The attentions of the Master Healer and his assistants was the turning point.

With the Master Healer's special ability to merge with another's spirit, he finally brought Raphael out of his comatose state to full waking consciousness.

Raph's eyes, still feverish, focused on the face of his father. Recognition. And concern.

"Mikey. Is Mikey all right? Is he safe?" he faintly managed to ask.

"Yes, my son, your brother is safe," Splinter assured him with a relieved smile. "He is safe, and so are you. Go to sleep, my son."

"Bishop- Bishop was hurtin' him, Sensei. Makin' him have nightmares. He was hurtin' you both."

"You are safe now. We are all safe," he replied, stroking his son's forehead soothingly.

"I tried to stop him," he mumbled, voice hoarse barely audible.

"Yes, my son. You did stop him. You saved your brother. Rest now. Go to sleep, Raphael. Go to sleep my son."

"Gladly."

With this special gift of reaching into another's mind, he calmed Leonardo's continued battles, and gave him the peace he needed to open his eyes on the real world and see his family safe.

"Don... Donnie... did you get Sensei home like I... like I told you?" he mumbled hoarsely, eyes unfocused, but opened.

"Yes, Leo, we got him out okay," Don assured him, relieved to hear his brother's normal voice after so many days of fevered shoutings. "Remember? We're all at home now."

"Get him home. You got him home. We had to do something. Raph and I had to do something. But you got him home?"

"Yes, Leo," Don tried again. "We got him home safe and sound. We are all at home. We're in Sensei's room. You and Raph, Mikey, Sensei- we're all here."

Leo stared at his brother for a few seconds, processing this.

"Sensei's room?"

"Yes, Leo."

"Ah. I thought this place looked familiar."

Raph, only lightly asleep, woke up at the sound of Leo talking. He turned his head on his pillow and focused on his brother.

"Leo, you all right?" Raph's voice, weak but welcome, reached Leo's ear.

Leo turned his head to look at him and managed to smile at Raph.

"I've had worse. You?"

"Not bad- a hell of a lot better than Bishop."

To the shock of everyone present, they both laughed.

It was weak and wheezy and didn't last long, but it was laughter.

Then they each reached out a hand across the small space that separated their beds, and attempted to high-three each other.

Their hands barely touched, then they both fell asleep, looking as if they were holding on to each other.

Splinter shook his head, the first smile on his lips in days.

"Foolish sons."