No time! I'm late for work! This is kind of long and less action. Sorry! Thanks to everyone who has been sending me such nice reviews and suggestions and stuff! TMNT are MIRAGE. I am LATE!

"Leo, leave me alone! I didn't unplug the toaster! Jeeze, give it a rest already!"

They were washing the dishes from their simple dinner that Mikey had made with their help- it was his and Sensei's creation, made from rice, gravy, leftover chicken, peas, onions and carrots, all mixed together, which Mikey had proudly named "Chicken Jumble"- and Leo was promising Raph that "I owe you one!" over the joke played on him before.

"Sure, Raph," Leo scoffed. "All that stuff about getting me to make the toast just so you could play a joke on me- I owe you big time!"

Raph, roughly throwing the scrubby sponge into the dishwater in his anger, turned to his brother who was still drying the same glass he'd been drying for what seemed like five minutes.

"For the last time, if I was gonna play that kind of joke on ya, I woulda been watching from some hiding place! I didn't unplug the toaster! Just let it go, will ya? 'Sides, it was funny," he added in an undertone, and a smile on his face threatened to give way to a laugh. But he held onto it and began to wash yet another pan.

But Leo knew, he just knew, that Raph had been the one, and some how he was gonna make him pay!

"Just you wait until Sensei is better," Leo muttered as Raph dumped the last clean dish into the rinse water and, after draining and cleaning the sink, left the kitchen shaking his head.

"Yeah, whatever," he replied absently, heading to Sensei's room to see if he needed anything.

In Splinter's room, Don was looking rather worried. Mike was sitting in the rocker, feet pulled up and hugging his knees- a sure sign he was scared.

"What?" Raph asked, suddenly nervous.

"I think he's getting worse," Don tried to whisper, but Splinter, though his eyes were closed, wasn't asleep as Raph had thought- indeed, as all of them had thought. He forced his eyes open and motioned for Raph to come nearer.

"Yes, Sensei?" Raph was surprised by the sudden choking feeling in his throat. He sounded so alien to his own ears, with those two words.

Splinter's eyes were bright with fever, and he looked old and tired. But he was still Sensei.

"This fever is making it difficult for me to stay awake," he said softly. "I want you and Leonardo to make sure that the lair is secure tonight."

"We will, Sensei," Raph said without hesitation, without thought- beyond a cold fear growing in the pit of his stomach.

"I mean secure!" he forcefully repeated, and Raph's stomach flipped over at the tone. He couldn't take his eyes off of Splinter's; he couldn't describe the look in them, but the fear in his stomach grew to unimaginable size.

"Hai, Sensei," he said, bowing, as if he were in the dojo, not in Splinter's room.

"Donatello," he said, turning his head to this son. "I have some herbs in the little chest in the bathroom. They are good for fever, but they need time to be prepared. Do you think you can manage if I tell you how to do it?"

"I can do whatever you want me to do, Sensei," Don managed to laugh confidently, but Raph wasn't fooled; he could tell that Don was frightened.

Now Splinter turned his gaze to Michelangelo, still huddled in the rocking chair, still looking scared.

It occurred to Raph that Mikey, normally fearless, was definitely afraid this time. As long as Raph could remember, there were only three things that could really and truly scare Mikey: scary stories (though he loved a good horror movie); the monster under the bed (which, no matter how much they kept explaining to him that, as he slept on the top bunk, he was out of danger), and illness.

"Michelangelo, it is time for you to take your bath and go to bed," Splinter said firmly.

Mikey, addressed like this, jumped as if he'd been stuck with a pin.

"Se-Sensei?" he quavered.

"It is time for bed, Michelangelo," Splinter repeated, closing his eyes as if the matter were over. "Go and take your bath now. I expect you to be in bed in one hour. Now go."

Mikey, stung by the words, looked as if he'd been punished. Why was he being singled out for a bath and bedtime?

Raph and Don weren't told to do the same- they (with Leo, though he was out of the room) were given important grown-up things to do! Why were Raph and Don being treated like this while he was being treated like a little kid?

He slowly got out of the rocker and made his way to the bed.

"But- but Sensei.."

"I am serious, my son," Splinter said kindly but firmly. "I want you all to go to bed early tonight. This fever is robbing me of my strength, and I want to sleep. I cannot sleep peacefully if I know you are all out of bed. You must do this for me."

Mikey's stubborn streak began to rise to the surface. It was so unfair! In actual years there was hardly any difference between them, yet he had always been considered the baby, and therefore useless in a crisis!

"Sensei, I can help you!" Mikey found himself arguing with his father. "I can help you like the guys! I can read to you! I can cook for you! I'm not a baby! I can-"

Splinter's eyes opened abruptly, and his fevered glare burned through Michelangelo as if it were a powerful beam of light!

"Michelangelo! Go take your bath! Go to bed!"

All three were stung and stunned by the force of the words.

Mikey, swallowing a few times, tears threatening to burst forth but prevented by determination, bowed stiffly to Splinter.

"Hai, Sensei," he managed without any emotion other than obedience. Without a backward glance at anyone, he left the room and made his way to the bathroom, where the sound of running water could be heard a few minutes later.

Splinter looked as if he'd done something unforgivable. He looked so sad and unhappy with himself and his action that both sons in the room wanted to cry for him, if they couldn't cry with him. They, naturally, didn't think this- they were still so young! But the feeling was overwhelming to a couple of six-year-olds, and both knew that Splinter regretted his short temper outburst.

Sighing, he sagged against the pillows, and for a moment Don and Raph thought he'd drifted off to sleep. But he forced his eyes open and looked at Donatello.

"Bring the little chest here, along with the large cooking pot- the one with the handle black handle. Bring the lid as well, and then we will need more water. You will help me with the medicine, then you are to take your bath and go to bed."

Don looked as if he would bring up his idea from the first night of insisting on staying, but he kept it to himself, bowed to Splinter, and then went off to get the supplies.

"Master Splinter," Raph said, and the tone of his voice shook both of them. He felt as if someone else was talking, not him. It seemed as if someone else was speaking; the voice shook with fear. "Are you gonna be all right?"

Splinter recognized this simple question for what it really was. He didn't need the quavering tone to alert him to the real question lurking in those simple words by his older son. He didn't need to see how Raphael was struggling to keep his face neutral, as if nothing were wrong, struggling to maintain that nonchalant look- struggling with all his power, despite the slight quiver of his mouth, the slight wrinkling of his forehead.

Splinter, sick as he was, tired as he was, held out his arms and before Raph knew what he was doing, he had crawled into bed with Sensei and fiercely claimed the hug.

He could feel the fever burning in his father's body, and he held on, hoping that some of it would drain out of Splinter and into him so his father would be better.

"Do you remember, Raphael, the day you got lost?" Splinter said softly, holding him close. "Can you remember any of that day? You were only about two."

Raph, concentrating, slowly nodded.

"I can remember a little bit. I remember the light bulb and the noise I heard. I remember screaming my head off," and he laughed at that part, joined by his father.

"Yes. I was busy trying to get Michelangelo to eat the mashed carrots that the rest of you had so happily swallowed down," Splinter smiled. "Your brother was being very willful at that moment, and I allowed myself to forget while dealing with that young child, that three others needed my attention."

"I was lost, but I was only outside the lair," Raph said as if it had been a good joke. But both of them knew that it had been a frightening experience- for both of them.

He howled louder than the groaning of the pipe that was scaring him, and Splinter, frantic with worry, found him immediately.

"I don't think I let go of you all day," Raph remembered. He wasn't quite sure, but in his mind he could see himself following Splinter all over the lair the rest of that afternoon and evening, one hand clutching the hem of Sensei's robe as if for dear life. Nothing could persuade him to let go of it. His fingers had entwined themselves into the fabric and Splinter had had to do everything that day with little Raphael following along.

"Yes. I believe you finally fell asleep, still clutching my robe," Splinter replied hoarsely, yet with a chuckle in his voice. "You certainly did not try to leave the lair after that for a long time, and for a short time after that, something would remind you of it some how, and I would have you clutching my robe again, following me all over the lair."

Splinter paused and mastered the coughing fit that suddenly burst forth. Raph kept his head pressed to Sensei's chest, willing the rat to be better.

Splinter took a few tired deep breaths as the fit subsided. He would probably be giving this illness to all his sons, but there was nothing to be done about it now, except get better before that happened.

He smiled down on this son who had held on all through the fit that had racked his body- the son who had held on like he had that day when he had pretty much become part of Splinter's robe.

"My son, did I ever tell you how frightened I was that day? I heard the door, and I had to abandon everyone in the lair to chase after you. I still marvel at how fast you were able to get out and cross that channel. When I went outside, I could not see you, and my heart nearly stopped. Your scream of fear was the sweetest sound!"

He hugged Raphael a bit tighter.

"I will be all right, my son. It is just the flu, and you will all probably catch it now from me. But do not worry. I will not leave you. I cannot. I am holding onto all of you as tightly as you held on to me that day. You will not be rid of me."

Raph laughed, and sat up after a final hug. He could hear Don coming down the hall. From the sound of it, Leo was helping him carry stuff, and he got off the bed before his brothers could see him being mushy.

"Do me a favor, Raphael," Splinter said as the other two entered with the required materials for brewing the fever medicine. "Please make sure that Michelangelo is all right. Once I have shown Donatello how to get this medicine started, I will expect you all to go to bed."

"Hai, Sensei," Raph bowed, and he left the room a little less fearful.

But he still was holding onto Sensei's robe in his mind.

Raph entered the bathroom to find Mikey in the tub. The younger turtle was just sitting there, kind of playing with the water; squirting it with his hands, watching the droplets shoot up and splash back into the tub.

Raph could tell that Mikey was unhappy. For one thing, there was no water on the floor. Mikey was a notorious bather, playing rather than washing. Usually there would be several old rubber duckies, a beat-up plastic boat, and a relatively new toy submarine that Splinter found one day while scavenging, floating around the turtle while he chattered away in many different voices, making up stories and plays and songs involving all of his "company" as he called it. It usually ended with Splinter having to mop up the bathroom so the next turtle could take a bath.

Tonight the only one in the tub was Mikey. The duckies, the boat and the submarine all sat on the floor in the corner, looking sad and dejected because their best friend hadn't invited them into the tub.

Raph had already had one bath today, but he silently got into the tub with Mikey, who pretended not to notice.

"Whatcha playin'?" he asked, starting to squirt the water with his own hands.

"Nothing."

Silence, except for the soft sound of water being played with.

"Splinter is gonna be okay, you know," Raph tried again, making a really good squirt of water arc up and land on Mikey's arm.

Mikey, usually up for a good water fight, didn't even whine in protest. He just nodded his head and continued to make little spouty fountains listlessly.

Then he suddenly splashed both hands on the surface of the water in anger.

"I'm not a baby! I can help! I can cook! We had a good dinner tonight, and Splinter didn't even have to help me! I'm not a baby!"

Raph was taken aback by the fierce tone, the forceful expression, and the lack of tears on his brother's face. Michelangelo was angry! Not pouty angry, or crying angry- this was- this was- Raphael angry!

He sat there, breathing hard after this outburst, daring Raph to say anything to contradict him. He was waiting for Raph to tease him or belittle him or argue with him- and when he does, I'm going to let him have it good! he thought to himself. He sat there, staring a challenge at his holder, bigger brother.

Raph squirted a few more fountains into the air and watched the water droplets fall gracefully back into the tub.

"You did a good job tonight, Mike," he said, not looking at this angry young brother. "How did you make up that meal?"

"I mean it, Raph!" Mikey was not to be distracted. It was as if he were looking for a fight, for a reason to be angry with someone else so he wouldn't be angry at his father.

But Raph was not going to play that game.

"Splinter knows you're not a baby, Mike. He didn't mean to be so hard. He doesn't feel well. You know how cranky we get when we have a high fever."

Mikey stared at the water, making more squirts- but these were angry squirts- he was so mad the water was doing its best to escape his bruising hands.

"He's not suppose ta be cranky," he muttered, and now the angry tone held the note of fear that Raph's had held earlier. "He's not suppose ta be sick. He's not suppose ta..."

He was surprised to see drops of water splashing down, as he'd quit making the angry fountains. Then he knew he was crying.

Great! Baby Mikey is crying like a baby! he thought, angry with himself now.

Raph scooted over in the tub and hugged Mikey the way Splinter had hug Raphael earlier. And Mikey held onto his brother the way his brother had held onto Splinter just a while ago.

"Mikey it will be all right," he told him simply.

Mikey looked at Raph, doubt mixed with a deep desire to trust his older sibling.

"How do you know?"

"Cause Splinter says so," Raph wisely said. "And he's never lied to us at all, has he?"

Mikey, still holding onto Raph, thought on this question for some minutes.

"No," he slowly had to agree. "He's never lied to us... except when he said mashed carrots are yummy to the tummy."

Raph laughed at the seriousness with which Mikey had uttered those words. It was said as if Mikey were still tasting that baby food from long ago.

"Come on, we gotta go to bed. We promised Splinter."

Mikey reluctantly let go and got out of the tub. As they dried off, he smiled at Raph. He was feeling much better. Yes, Sensei would be better- Raph was right. It would be okay.

"Whatcha grinning at?" Raph asked, noticing the goofy look on Mikey's face.

"I owe you one," he said.

"Anytime."