Thanks llama and Becca T and Sakura177(? I don't think I left something off of that)- your feed back is always welcome. I know, I post too soon, but I get in these moods to write and I can't stop. I hope, as usual, that I don't disappoint.

TMNT- sigh- are owned by Mirage.

MIKEY:

I wonder if perhaps everyone is right, and I'm coming down with the flu?

I still cannot shake that feeling that I was somewhere else, or that vision of something dark creeping up on Master Splinter.

Yet- what else can it be? Surely it can't be real? I read way too many comic books I think. I watch way too many spooky movies.

I guess I could be picking up on his dreams- though I'm not really very good at that meditation, other plane stuff- my mind tends to wander a bit, you know...

And I've never considered myself psychic. Except I did have that crystal dream about what was going to happen to us in that Underground City that Don insisted on dragging us to- several times-

"Hey, Raph," I ask, after Leo forcefully removes me from Splinter's room instead of letting me take his turn. "Do you think I could be psychic?"

"If ya ask me, ya need to replace the last two letters in that word with the letter 'o'," he says, eyes never leaving the TV.

I am in the kitchen fixing dinner when I get the insult.

I wonder if Raph would like cayenne pepper in his burrito tonight? He's always complaining I don't make them spicy enough...

SPLINTER:

I think that I am having hallucinations.

I keep seeing things from the corner of my eye in the dark room. At first I was willing to put this down to my illness and this- irrational depression- I have been experiencing concerning death. But these peripheral glimpses have been increasing since this afternoon, and I cannot explain it.

I have tried to think this through, but I must come to two conclusions; either I am hallucinating, or else something is there.

Conclusion number one- If I am hallucinating, is it possible for someone else to perceive the same hallucination? After all, Michelangelo certainly seemed to know exactly what I was seeing- or dreaming. Yet hallucinations, brought on by fever and a disturbed spirit or great worry, is the most logical, most likely explanation; a paranoid response to the situation as it were. But why can Michelangelo pick up on this? I would expect that more from Leonardo...

Conclusion number two- If something is there- what can it be? And if it is there, why have none of the others noticed it, just Michelangelo? He certainly, from what he told me earlier, has noticed this dark "something" since my first fainting spell. This has led his brothers to believe that perhaps he, too, is coming down with illness. I would, again, expect Leonardo to pick up on this, rather than Michelangelo. After all, his meditation training is more advanced than that of his brothers. In either scenario, Michelangelo is the surprise equation.

I want to believe that this is just a reaction to illness and depression. Still- what if we both are seeing "something" that is really there?

I shiver in spite of myself, which earns me sudden attention from Leonardo, who is offering to put yet another blanket on the bed.

"No, thank you, my son. Three are more than enough."

He reluctantly leaves to get my dinner.

Michelangelo was not too willing to relinquish his watch, but Leonardo forcefully replaced his brother for his turn at playing wet nurse- no, wait, that is not the expression- nanny?

Care-giver?

Prison guard?

Probably that latter, as he has made it virtually impossible for his father to go to the bathroom with some semblance of dignity.

"Don't lock the door, Sensei! Are you all right, Sensei? Shouldn't I be in there with you, Sensei? Are you all right, Sensei? I can come in if you need me, Sensei."

I know that behind my back my sons have made crude jokes about my going into the bathroom to "meditate", but it is almost a reality at the moment- I am so much in need of time to calm my spirit, as well as my patience with my son.

I sigh, and turn my mind back to these two questions: am I seeing things? Or is something really there?

Am I hallucinating?

I decide to confirm this with Leonardo, who has just come back with my evening meal.

"I haven't noticed anything, apart from the room seeming cold at times, " he says, pouring me some cool barley water and helping me to sit up to drink it. "But Sensei, I don't think your fever is high enough for hallucinations. Perhaps it's something else? Perhaps you're worried about something?"

I think about this- it is one of my theories, after all. But then I dismiss it.

"Your brother has experienced a similar encounter," I tell him, but Leonardo looks as if he is not ready to put much credence in Michelangelo's abilities to pick up on my emotions, or my dreams.

"Mikey is probably coming down with the flu," he says easily, preparing the herbal medication that April has brought to help treat my illness. "Mikey has an overly excited imagination. He can't even pick up his room, much less what you're talking about."

"You seem very sure of your belief, Leonardo," I say, rather sternly. "Are you not perhaps being too harsh in your judgment?"

"I honestly do not believe that Michelangelo can do something like register your emotions- or your dreams- or any 'other worldly' experience- especially if I'm not feeling it."

Then he freezes, realizing he is being rather vain in his abilities, and apologizes to me for making such a statement.

But I know he still believes this to be true.

As I sit there, waiting for him to hand me the medication, once again I believe I see something from the corner of my eye; I turn to look, and suddenly I feel dizzy; I hear Leonardo from a distance as it were. Then the moment has passed, and I find that I have spilled the medication on the blankets.

Leonardo is quickly removing the wet covers, relieved that nothing has reached me- an impossibility considering the number of blankets he has tried to smother me with.

"Sensei, are you all right?" he asks again- I register the fact that he has asked me this question twice already, and is growing more and more agitated with my not answering.

"Yes, my son," I manage, as he replaces the soaked cover with another one. "I was momentarily dizzy. I saw again that 'something' from the corner of my eye, something dark, and when I turned to look at it, I became light-headed."

He feels my forehead, then frowns.

"You don't seem any warmer. Let me go get some more of this herbal stuff- I think you spilled the last of what we were keeping in here- just lay down, Sensei- I won't be long, I promise!"

At that he is gone.

I suspect that he has mentioned this latest dizzy spell, as it is not quite three minutes before Michelangelo has returned to the room, in spite of Leonardo's command to "leave Sensei alone, Mikey!"

"You saw it again, didn't you Sensei?" he asks, coming over and kneeling down close, as if seeking comfort instead of offering it. "You saw that- that whatever- again, didn't you? I felt something was wrong, just now! I felt something had gotten in here, just now! I swear it!"

Before I can answer, or calm him down, Leonardo is entering with more medication and a stern look on his face.

"Michelangelo! I told you to leave Master Splinter alone!" he reprimands his brother as if I am not there; as if he is the head of the family, and I am nothing.

"Leonardo, Michelangelo may stay!" I snap, surprising all three of us with my sharp tone.

I take the medication, ignoring the silence, and then gather my thoughts.

"My sons, I feel that something is not quite right, and I am not speaking of this illness," I find myself saying. "I have two theories I will present- to both of you," I add, with a look at Leonardo, "and then we will discuss them."

And I lay out my thoughts on the cause of these "visions", as well as my ideas regarding both- though I do not dwell on my depression regarding death, which I find I still cannot shed.

And as I speak, both of my sons listen with great attention. Then they sit, digesting these various theories, applying real-life experiences to these words, testing and retesting them in their own minds.

At least, I am sure that is what Leonardo is doing; Michelangelo wears that look I've come to know when he is confused about something but does not wish anyone to realize it.

It is not surprising therefore to me that Leonardo is the first to speak.

"Do you suppose you could be having a vision? A vision of something that hasn't happened yet, perhaps?"

We both look at Leonardo.

"Do you think such a thing possible?" I ask, interested.

"I don't see why not. Perhaps, when you first tried meditating this morning, and your temperature rose, perhaps something came through, and it's hanging around until you can fully receive it."

I think about this.

"A vision? Similar to the one I received regarding the Shredder?" I had not thought of this possibility. But a vision that does not come through, that is "hanging around" as Leonardo puts it- "If I have guessed the meaning of your words, I do not think that it works in the manner you are suggesting."

Leonardo accepts this.

"Yeah, bro," Michelangelo says with a smile. "You make it sound like call-waiting! I didn't know the other realm worked like that."

Leonardo ignores this.

"Sensei, perhaps if you and I were to meditate together, as if you were giving me a lesson in visions and projection, whatever it is that you keep seeing will become clear to us both."

"Hey! Why not me as well? I've been seeing the same thing all day!"

"Calm yourself, my son," I say to Michelangelo, who is understandably upset by his brother's statement.

I sip the barley water and think of this plan, watched by two sons.

Is it worth it? Or should I just wait and see what happens?

I am feeling better- perhaps it would be a good idea.

"Let me think about this while I eat," I say. "I feel better than I did this morning, so perhaps we might try this suggestion- with both of you," I add, calming one son and stirring up the other. But I ignore this. "I must admit, seeing things in my peripheral vision is disturbing to my spirit."

Leonardo promptly serves me my dinner- broth.

I sigh.

"I do not wish to sound ungrateful, my son, but I would really like to eat something."

"April says you should be careful when you have the flu about what you eat, but I guess if you really feel the craving for something, it wouldn't hurt," he decides. "What would you like, Sensei?"

"A little rice would be most welcome, and some fruit, perhaps?"

He smiles, as does Michelangelo, who has offered to provide me with a specially made burrito- I gather my desire for real food is good news to them both. I politely turn down my youngest son's offer, and they both leave to bring me what I have requested.

Again, something catches my attention- something lurking just out of the corner of my eye- I turn to look directly at it- and I suddenly feel chilled and dizzy.

And remember very little.

MIKEY:

Imagine! Leo thinks that only he is capable of being all "spiritual" and "other realmly" and stuff like that! As if he is the only one who can do that stuff...

I think he's just pissed 'cause I'm the one who picked up on all this stuff today, while he was caught with his shell down.

My plan to spice up Raph's burrito backfires- he actually asks for more. Don, on the other hand, is drinking as much water as he can lay his hands on, and I wonder if I spiked up everyone's meal, or else got them mixed up by accident-

Or if Raph was on to me, and switched with Don-

Leo explains to the guys that Splinter wants to eat some solid food, and they all agree- like it's up to us if Sensei has more than broth! I mean, he is our father! I guess he can have what he wants when he wants it. Who are we to tell him "yes" or "no"?

I help Leo by slicing up the fruit while he prepares the rice. I make it into cute little shapes- stars, bunnies, flowers, stuff like that. I should be a great chef, you know? I could be on one of those cooking shows on the Food Network- "Meals with Mikey"- YEAH! Emeril, move over, there's a new chef in town!

I am in the middle of taping my show, chatting with the audience as they are oohing and ahhing over my latest creation, when I freeze-

I feel so cold-

So cold-

OUCH!

I've cut myself with the knife- I dimly hear Don and Raph laughing at me, and Leo scolding me not to "put yourself into Sensei's dinner!"

I shake my head, trying to clear it. Don by now has realized that I am not there- they always tease that I'm not there anyway, but I really feel as if I'm not there- and then he is putting a bandage on my finger, and I am back again- Leo has left with the rice, the fruit (that I didn't bleed on) and I am standing there, staring at two brothers who are staring back.

Don reaches up and feels my forehead, then looks at Raph.

"Nope, no fever yet."

Then:

"Guys! Guys! Come quick! Sensei's fainted again!"