Thanks again for all the reviews and comments! TMNT are owned by Mirage. This early-morning headache is mine and mine alone...

Splinter awoke around 11:38 PM.

He figured he'd been asleep since about after nine-- after taking some of the medicine that Donatello had prepared under his direction, he'd struggled to keep awake to ensure that his sons had actually gone to bed; indeed, he had dragged himself from his own bed after a half-hour, and had slowly made his way into their room just to reassure himself that they were all in tucked in and sleeping.

In the soft glow of the night light that he'd had to resort to for Michelangelo (though it was also handy for the others as well, as the lair was so incredibly dark!), he could make out the still forms of his sons as they slept.

Raphael was already softly snoring. Splinter gently eased him over on his stomach so that he would not awaken the others-- or himself-- with any sudden snorting sounds. Splinter recalled with alarming clarity one dreadful night, when they were still babies, before they'd started speaking but after they'd started walking-- they'd been sick all day, and during the night, Raphael had quit breathing after strange snorting sounds.

Still unsure about things, but acting on instinct, Splinter had flipped him over on his plastron, and everything had gone back to normal...

Well, as normal as possible, considering all the five of them had been through...

Michelangelo was clutching his teddy bear under the blanket.

Splinter remembered finding this item, and, having observed the surface dwellers' offspring holding such things, had broken his own rule about scavenging-- only bring home the things needed to ensure survival-- and had dragged the item home, working diligently to clean it so his sons could safely play with it. Surprisingly enough, the others hadn't really cared for it, but Michelangelo had attached himself to it almost at once, playing endless games with it and making it "talk" to the point of aggravating his brothers-- he would do the latter especially at night, when the "monster under the bed" had disturbed him. He would end up waking the others with his nervous conversations with "Mr. Growlly", a protective bear who kept threatening in a loud, deep voice to "kick the tail of any old monster under the bed who tries to hurt Mikey and his brothers!"

At the time Splinter had brought it home, Michelangelo was barely bigger than the bear. Now, he and Mr. Growlly were more in proportion to what a child and a toy should be. Splinter carefully tucked the two of them in, and placed a hand briefly on Michelangelo's head.

He had been so angry at Splinter!

Sensei knew that his son had resented being told to take a bath and go to bed. He would make it up to him later-- he would let him know that Sensei truly appreciated and valued his skills, and did not think of him as a baby-- though, Splinter smiled, he was his baby.

Leonardo was finally asleep. Splinter had held off coming in, knowing that this one from little up had been the last to fall asleep at night and the first to wake in the morning. He wondered once again if this was some foreshadowing trait of Fate-- after all, the life they would lead would be dangerous no matter what the circumstances. Of the four, Leonardo seemed to be the one that was marked to care for them all.

Oh, he had no doubts that all of them could rise to the occasion! No matter what they may perceive as his favoritism of Leonardo, he knew that all of them were clever and quick and would make him proud.

But he could not help but notice that Leonardo seemed the most dedicated to this lifestyle he had chosen for his four unique sons.

And then there was Donatello--

Splinter blinked, wondering if the fever had returned double fold. He stared at the shape that was supposed to be his son-- but for some reason, he was convinced that this was not he.

Warily he reached a hand out, and discovered that the blanket was bunched up around a pillow.

Splinter sighed with weariness. Not worrying, he returned to his room, where he lit a candle to push the darkness aside as he made his unsteady way to the old rocking chair, where Donatello was huddled up with a blanket, sound asleep.

He had managed to keep quiet and hidden in the dark, and Splinter, distracted by his fever and his concentrating on the entire group going to bed, had failed to notice that this little one had used his ninja training to his advantage, first fixing up his bed, then slipping past his brothers as well as Splinter to take up a job he felt was his and his alone.

Splinter carried him back to his own bed, and tucked him in, then returned to his own room and collapsed into bed, too exhausted to even cover himself properly.

That had been somewhere around 9:00.

Now it was 11:38, and somehow the blanket had been tucked around him. The candle he'd lit earlier was still burning, a friendly light in the almost inky darkness of the room, shedding enough illumination to barely reveal the huddled and sleeping shape of Donatello in the old rocking chair.

Splinter sighed wearily, got out of bed, and picked up the sleeping turtle. Immediately he sat down, heavily, on the bed, managing to keep his hold on his son while losing his balance. His legs were upset with him and reminding him that he was ill, and should not be trying to walk around at all, especially with the added weight of a stubborn yet loving child.

Somehow he found the strength to get up and once again carry this willful child back into his room, and with a mighty effort he not only got him into the top bunk, but settled him in and tucked in the blanket firmly.

"But I can help..." the young turtle barely mumbled, disturbed by the motion-- then settling back into slumber.

Splinter once again smiled at the determination of this son. Then he made his way to the bathroom for urgent business.

Back in the room, he managed in the dim light of the candle to make himself some tea and mix in a good amount of the medicine that Donatello had brewed under his supervision. He raised the cup to his lips, just beginning to sip down the bitter and sweet mixture, when he froze in disbelief: Donatello was curled up in the rocking chair!

Again!

He sank down on the bed, all strength gone from his legs.

For a moment he considered allowing this stubborn, willful child to get his way and stay all night.

But parental pride reasserted itself, and, gathering all his strength, he forced himself into a standing (and hopefully authoritarian) position.

"Donatello! Return to bed at once!" he snapped out in the best dojo voice he could muster.

Don "snored" in response, but Splinter knew that this was not genuine.

"Hamato Donatello! Return to bed at once!"

Donatello carefully opened one eye, peeking at his father. The look, the body language, spoke volumes.

With a defeated sigh, Don slowly got out of the old rocking chair, and slowly made his way to the door in the best imitation of a heartbroken child as he could muster. Shoulders slumped, head hung low, blanket sadly trailing behind the slow, hesitant, almost tearful steps of a forlorn and caring son, Donatello made his way to the door, slowing even more as each step brought him closer to the portal.

Splinter almost picked him up and put him in bed with him.

Almost.

Donatello, at the door, turned with one more hopeful plea.

"Father, I really could--"

But Splinter hardened his heart-- a very difficult task, as he could see the optimistic tears shining in his son's eyes, even in that dim candlelight-- and shook his head, firmly pointing in the general direction of the son's room.

He waited in that position until he was sure he'd heard the distinct sound of the upper bunk's reception of his son.

Once again he collapsed into his own bed.

More strange dreams-- he was at the beach, where the section he was visiting was "walled off" from the rest of the vast ocean. He was playing in the sand with one of his sons, while the others were daring the surf to chase them up the beach...

Donatello was telling him that he could help him keep from being so hot, and was trying to use some strange invention on all of them to keep them cool...

Then the Lair was slowly flooding because one of the tunnels had clogged up with all the recent rain debris, and Splinter was having a hard time convincing his sons to help him clean and not play in the dirty water...

And then the old rocking chair was slowly moving back and forth on its own, rocking some unseen entity who was determined to spend the night regardless of father's disapproval, regardless of how many times he was forced to return to his own bed--

Splinter opened his eyes to find that it was around one AM and that Donatello was determinedly rocking in the chair, his own eyes barely able to stay open, blanket tightly wrapped around his small frame to shield him from the dark and cold.

With a resigned sigh, Splinter got up and again stood in front of Donatello. The young turtle, in spite of extreme sleepiness, tried to meet his Sensei's gaze with determination and resolve.

Yet he couldn't resist the urge to curl into Sensei as he was picked up once again, holding onto his father as if he were moss clinging to a tree, or lichen clinging to a rock-- or a desperately concerned son clinging to a sick parent.

Clinging as if he were a son looking for love and support and reassurance from his father.

Splinter sighed, smiling in spite of his illness.

"It is all right, Donatello," he whispered, surrendering to his son's determined assault, and placed him in bed with himself, despite Splinter's illness.

And the two of them peacefully slept through the night without further interruption.

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In the middle of the night, Leo awoke with the bestest of bestest all

plans!

"That's it!" he whispered, a huge grin spreading over his face in the dark.

Carefully he made his way from his own bed to the old steamer trunk where the toys Splinter had found for them over the years were kept.

It was hard work in the almost pitch dark-- the gentle glow of the night light that Splinter had managed for Mikey's benefit was the only illumination the young and vengeful turtle had to guide his payback for the toaster.

Raph was always teasing him about being afraid of that devise? Well Raph had a fear as well, Leo grinned, rummaging the dark recesses of the makeshift toy chest. Raph wasn't the only one with an irrational fear...

He almost laughed aloud as his hands closed round the squishy rubbery object of his "owe you one" goal-- a large, pink, ugly plastic bug!

He still remembered how Raph had freaked out when Mikey had found this thing on his first scavenge with Splinter. Mikey had been so fascinated with it-- he was sure it was real, and that Don would absolutely LOVE it! Splinter had given in and allowed him to carefully clean it and present it to Don.

Don, always tactful, had thanked Mikey in a way that had satisfied the younger brother to no ends.

Raph, on the other hand, had locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out until the "evil thing" had been dealt with. Splinter had to make a show of putting it in the trash, complete with narration by all three brothers, before Raph would nervously unlock the door and come out.

Mikey couldn't bear to lose this gift for Don, so he'd rescued it in the dead of night, and the fake bug had found its way into the recesses of the "toy chest", rarely to see the light of day, unless someone felt the need to put Raph in his place...

Carefully, carefully-- Leo placed the plastic horror on the pillow of Raph, and climbed back into bed, desperately trying not to laugh at the imagined outcomes of such a venture!

Leo imagined for some time the various reactions of Raph to the appearance of this six-legged horror on his pillow! Man! That was going to be so funny!

"AAAAHHH! Help me! Leo! Help me!" he heard him in his imagination, and Leo pictured Raph's jumping up onto the top bunk, crying like a baby! That was going to be so sweet...

Still...

It sure didn't seem funny that long ago day when the bug had first been brought home. Raph had cried a good deal, especially over the fact that he'd been so scared. It had taken Splinter a long time to calm him down...

Leo got up and retrieved the toy, tossing it back into the chest.

In bed, he tried to go back to sleep, and managed for a while-- that is, until he dreamed about the toaster--

He awoke with a start, got out of bed, found the toy bug, and placed it on Raph's pillow.

Back to bed. He fell asleep. And dreamed that Raph was freaking out so badly that Sensei had to get out of bed to see what was wrong, and fell down because of weakness and started throwing up--

Leo, bolting up in bed, took a few steadying breaths, then got up and retrieved the bug. Once again he tossed it into the chest and went back to sleep.

This time the bug was working the toaster while Leo watched in humiliation.

Leo woke up with a small cry of frustration! That was too much! He hardened his resolve, found the bug one last time, and placed it right next to Raph's head!

Then he went to the bathroom, then got a drink of water, and then got back into bed, forcing himself to stay there, watching the clock slowly crawl towards the time when they were usually awakened by Sensei-- only forty-five more minutes-- only thirty-five--

Only five--

Darn! He got up and once again made his way to the bed-- and the bug was gone! Frantically he searched with his eyes Raph's bed, but no trace of the rubber monster could be discovered!

Shaking, he got back into bed-- then couldn't stand it, and got up and woke up the brothers.

"Come on guys," he tried to sound cheerful, as he turned on the light and switched off the alarm that had just sounded. "We gotta check on Sensei."

Mikey yawned greatly, rubbing his eyes and stretching. Then he clambered down from bed and ran to the bathroom, shouting something about being first.

Raph was still snoozing. Leo for once didn't force the issue. Instead, he turned to make his own bed. He picked up his pillow to fluff it out--

and a large bug "jumped" out at him.

His scream was high-pitched, quick, and loud!

He stood there, breathing hard from the shock, feeling his racing heart slowing down-- and he heard a snicker from behind him. Turning, he saw Raph sitting up in bed, the biggest, meanest smirk imaginable on his face.

" 'smatter, Leo? Scared of a little old toy bug?" he laughed derisively. Then he hopped out of bed, quickly made it by pulling up the covers, and walked out of the room. His voice echoed back to his still startled brother.

"Hey Leo! How about some toast for breakfast?"

Leo felt the anger growing.

"I OWE YOU ONE, RAPH!"