TMNT do not belong to moi. They do not belong to vous. They belong to Mirage.

Catastrophes

"Uh, I guess I should have told you that I set up a preliminary surveillance camera, huh, Leo?" Don asked innocently, as they sat in the lab, looking at the replay of a small, dark, yet highly identifiable figure of Leo exploring around the general area of the first warehouse.

Leo watched, face burning with humiliation and embarrassment- and just a touch of anger at his brother for setting up the spy-cam, as well as himself for once again thinking he could get one past his Sensei- as he disappeared around to the back, out of sight.

Now he knew just how Splinter had known where he'd snuck off to.

Moments later the room burst into laughter as they saw Leo hightailing it back into camera shot, followed by a flowing blackness that Mikey recognized at once as the rats- and something else- something vague that the others didn't seem to notice as they were so busy having a chuckle at Leo's expense.

Leo took comfort in the fact that his youngest brother was not laughing. Unaware that Mikey was preoccupied with the images, Leo glanced in silent gratitude at his baby bro, wrapped in a blanket and looking all puffy-eyed with the cold that was slowly overtaking him.

Leo resolved right then and there to help him get better quickly. Poor Mikey! He, Leo, would take good care of his baby bro!

"What happened, Leo?" Mikey croaked out, eyes on the monitor. "Did you drop your flute?"

Hmmm... perhaps he wouldn't help Mike after all.

"So, I can not trust you even now," Splinter said, hand just now beginning to hurt from keeping his promise. The fifth smack had been on the shell, and he was now regretting not using his walking stick. He had not done so for fear of seriously injuring his son.

"I needed to see," he said, sighing, just a slight edge to his voice. "And besides, I found out which building they seem to be congregating in. Besides, it's my job as leader, right? To find out information, to make sure my family is safe? To look after my clan?"

"Do not try that argument with me!" Splinter replied, and his tone definitely had an edge to it. "We will discuss this-" he gestured towards the now blank screen- "later- alone!" This was directed towards an already grinning Donatello, who gulped and ducked his head. "Right now, we will eat supper. Come along."

They went to the table ("Okay, who put the pillow on my chair?" Leo groused, staring directly at Mikey, who looked too miserable to be subtly reminding Leo of his spanking. Raph and Don were both smirking; one or the other, Leo thought- probably both- they'll get theirs...), and Don made a place for Leatherhead by taking a chair away so he could sit on the floor at the end.

Honeycutt, naturally, could not eat, but Splinter pressed him to stay, to join them if the sight of their eating would not disturb him, or to wait wherever he chose to.

"We have much to discuss, and I am sure Donatello will bolt through his meal just to get back to work," Splinter said, guiding the robot to the table. "Your presence at supper may encourage him to slow down for once."

"Oh, I have long since forgotten what it was like to have to meet the needs to live," Honeycutt assured him. "I would be honored to stay. As a matter of fact, it would give me the perfect opportunity to test out this portable emergency recharger that your son has helped Leatherhead and me to develop. I've often worried about suddenly needing extra power. After all, this body, though made of metal, still needs powering up occasionally."

So, in a sense, they all were eating- well, Michelangelo was not really eating so much as picking at his food, and drinking yet more herbal tea as well as orange juice. He felt miserable- the cold seemed to be winning, and he was afraid that it would interfere with his plans.

Plus, his family needed him. That overriding thought kept occupying his mind, to the point that he was unaware for a few minutes that Splinter was speaking to him.

He realized that he was being watched by everyone. He hated times like this when he was caught out not paying attention (usually in the dojo). He steeled himself for the laughter, but no one looked as if they were angry or glad that he was in trouble.

He looked at Splinter, who was sitting expectantly, yet who had a very kind look on his face- not the stern, forbidding Sensei "Michelangelo! Pay attention!" look that he was familiar with during training, but the caring, concerned Father "you need to go to bed, my son, you are ill" look that he was familiar with from his whole life.

"I'm okay!" he said, realizing what Splinter had said to him.

"No, you are not," Splinter replied, rising from the table to escort his son to bed. "You are going to bed now. I will fix you some medicine, and you will take it, then you will wrap up warmly and go to bed!"

"Mother hen alert," Raph, face down as he ate, whispered to Don. "OW! Sorry, Sensei."

He rubbed the back of his head where Splinter had popped him a good one as he was passing behind Raphael with Michelangelo, guiding the protesting turtle firmly.

"Donatello, when you get a chance, fill up the tea kettle and heat it for me," Splinter said. "Leatherhead, Professor Honeycutt, if you will excuse me for a moment..."

Up in Mikey's room, he stared at his desk where his list of preparations lay. He had only a few days until the memorial- he just couldn't be sick.

"Bed," Splinter prodded him, as he moved a chair next to his son's loft of a bed and climbed up on it. Once Michelangelo was in it, he started tucking him in and feeling his forehead. "Hmmm... normally a cold does not involve a fever, but you seem to have one. You must have picked up an infection. I know just the thing..."

Jumping down, he left his son to his misery.

Man! Only a few more days! How can this be happening to me?

He lay on his side, staring glumly down towards his desk where, amidst the normal Mikey clutter of drawing pencils, perilously stacked comics, and several drawing tablets, he could see his precious outline for the memorial.

Only a few more days...

His head was being forced down-

With a sudden gasp his eyes popped open, and he tried to sit up, but the blankets had been tucked in tightly by Splinter. It took him a minute to fight his way out of the blanket, and then he was able to sit up. Sensei was just coming in with a tray that contained a bowl of steaming something and a cup of what Mikey guessed was green tea.

"Thanks, Sensei," he managed to say in a barely shaky voice, as he was handed up the bowl of medicine. He downed it as quickly as he could; years of experience had taught him that it was best to get it over with, because Splinter would stand there until you were an old gray turtle until you drank it all down, and the taste when it was cold was infinitely worse than when it was hot. The green tea always tasted good after getting that stuff down!

"I will check on you later, my son," he said, gathering the items. "Do not worry. You will be well enough by the time the day of the memorial arrives."

He left the room, leaving on one small light.

Right?

Mikey glanced at the clock. Still early. Going on past experience, Splinter would check on him in about another hour, just to see if he was asleep. Then he would probably leave him alone the rest of the night, since it wasn't serious.

Perfect! He would take a little nap, and then he would pull a Leo- he would go and scope out that warehouse himself! He would prove that it was NOT Victor! He would go and scope out the place, just like his brother had tried to do. Only he would be better at it than Leo... no going on the ground for him... he'd use the roofs... much safer... after all, he was Battle Nexus Champion... Leo was... zzzzzzzzzz...

No outsiders must ever come here. And if they did... they must never leave!

Mikey woke up, looked at the clock. It was well past midnight, and he was actually feeling better! Lightheaded, a bit warm, but definitely better!

Invincible, in fact! Battle Nexus Champion-invincible!

Carefully getting up, he geared up and headed out.

No one was up. Even Don's lab was dark. Just as well; his brainy brother would offer to go along, and Mikey didn't need help for this piddley mission! Better that Don get some rest!

Opening the door, he headed out without a care.

Damn! The tunnels were freezing! He should have put on the jacket at least. But as he went, he began to feel warmer; yes, definitely warmer, and alive! Nothing like a mission to stir the blood! He needed to do this more often!

He made his way quickly to the exit he and Leatherhead had used before- but detoured at the last minute to come out a bit farther away from the intended targets. He wanted to reach the roof quickly and unseen.

Splashing his unprotected feet through the icy water, he shivered his way up to the top of the empty warehouse where they'd been the other night. Raph's snowturtle was the lone shape on the roof. Pausing in his quest, he studied this work of art by his brother- he certainly had a talent that many would not realize.

As Mikey gazed at the smiling, happy snowturtle, he thought he recognized his brother's face in it- and laughed aloud. A self-portrait? Had Raph made a self-portrait? But how unrealistic! Really, Raph should come to him for lessons in art.

With a wicked grin, Mikey went up to the snow sculpture and, taking a few minutes and some creative license, made the face look angry.

"There! That is more realistic!"

Then, with his trusty Swiss army knife, he carved a rude comment into the snowturtle's chest. Standing back to admire his handiwork, he indulged himself in a laugh at the expense of Raph. Too bad the hothead wasn't here to see it.

Focus, Mikey! Business to take care of...

Mikey went to the edge, scanned the scene with the ever-present goggles. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

Mikey suddenly shook his head... what is wrong with me? Why would I think that?

Then he heard the echo of a laugh, and froze- was it his imagination?

Again, faintly, the echo of laughter-

Mikey trained his goggles on the warehouse that Leo had indicated was the one where the rats were entering. He could see nothing- big surprise!

Down to the ground, quick run (though why did his legs feel like lead all of a sudden?), a scramble up to the next roof- stopping to close his eyes as the world suddenly decided to spin for a moment- then on to the edge closest to the next building.

This one was close enough that he could jump to the other roof. Piece of cake... mmmm... cake... Chocolate was his favorite, but they hadn't had any in such a long time... running leap, and he landed hard, staggering. He lost his balance and fell flat on his plastron into the snow... the soft, warm, comforting snow... like sleeping in a cloud...

...skittering...

Mikey opened his eyes with great difficulty. What a strange word, skittering...

Then he realized that it was perfect for describing the noise he was hearing.

He struggled to his hands and knees in the snow, but his body felt as heavy as- well, as Leo's cooking!

He made it to his feet, and began to realize that this was probably not a good idea... he was chilled, and his head was aching fiercely. His teeth chattered, and his feet were numb.

Why am I here? Why am I...

The moon and his thought was blocked by the dark shadow of a very tall, very menacing person. Mikey's eyes, straining against the pain in his head, tried to make out the features of this being. He stood at the far end of the roof, simply staring at Mikey. The moonlight illuminated him from behind, preventing the Turtle from getting a clear view of his face.

He pulled his 'chuks, fumbling them with numbed fingers.

"Dude," he said weakly. "I gotta warn you- I'm the Battle Nexus Champion. You don't stand a chance!"

The floor- or rather, the roof- tipped suddenly under Mikey's feet, and he found himself falling forward again. Yet strangely, though everything was moving, the mysterious figure stood perfectly still. He was unaffected by the actions of the willful roof of the warehouse.

Mikey looked up, struggling against something that was trying to force him to take a nap- and looked into the eyes of the being-

"Victor?"

And then things got very swimmy indeed before they vanished altogether...