Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the feedback on my previous chapters. You have all been such a great help. The first section of this chapter was a little touchy for me to write, so please tell what you think by leaving a review.

To those of you asking if Mikey will die: Well, the point in reading is to find out, isn't it? I absolutely love killing off characters, but I absolutely love happy endings as well. Tell me your thoughts, please, because I love to read what you think.

Thanks again for reading!

Disclaimer: If I owned the turtles, there would be a lot more blood. Just saying.

Michelangelo's lost track of time again. Not that he's ever been on track with it in the first place, but still; it would be nice to have at least some perception of time while he's sitting here. He feels like staring at a clock sounds much better than staring at the same wall all day.

Or has it been all week? All month? All forever?

He can't remember.

All he knows right now is that he's currently sitting upright on his bed, nursing what is probably the worst headache of his life. It's even worse than the time that Raph "accidentally" hit him on the back of his head with the old pipe they found in the sewers. He groans and rubs his hand over his forehead, willing the pain to go away.

This must be what a hangover feels like, he muses.

He smirks at the thought, then glances at the chair resting near the foot of his bed. Master Splinter is sitting in it with his eyes closed and his head bowed, but Mikey knows better than to think that his Sensei's asleep. Meditating; yes. Deep in thought; quite possibly. But he'd never fall asleep while watching over his son. This is something the youngest turtle knows without a doubt, and the thought comforts him.

He licks his dry lips and considers clearing his throat to get the rat's attention, but then almost immediately decides against it. He doesn't want to risk having another one of his coughing fits that almost always turn into a full blown panic attack. He recalls the last one that he had not too long ago, and thinks he might start panicking just from thinking about it.

"It is good to see you sitting up, my son."

Mikey would have jumped out of his shell, if he had to strength to; but as it is, he does not, and he can only settle for a mortifyingly high pitched squeak of surprise (NOT fright, he insists to himself) before rearranging his features to look calm as he looks at his Sensei.

"It feels good to be up, Sensei." He says it as cheerfully as his raspy voice will allow. After hearing his own voice, he fights the urge to start whining. Honestly, it's like going through some screwed up version of turtle puberty all over again! He allows himself to clear his throat as gently as possible before speaking again. "Actually, Master Splinter, I was wondering if I could have some water. You know, to keep the good ol' vocal chords running."

The aged rat smiles. "That is fine. Raphael will be here in a few moments to take watch over you. I will get your water then." After a few quiet seconds, he continues. "And here he is now."

Just then, Raph opens the heavy metal bedroom door and steps in, silent as any good ninja should be. He takes one look at the younger turtle lying in bed and gives him a small nod.

"It's good to see you up, bro. You feeling any better?"

Mikey narrows his eyes at his older brother. There's something… off… about him. Like Raph knows something that his little brother doesn't. That would hardly be new to the orange-clad turtle, except for the fact that whatever Raph is holding in is making him tense. More tense than usual. And he seems to be taking extra care not to make any eye contact whatsoever with Michelangelo. That's strange. The only time he ever does that is if he's sabotaged Mikey's collection of comic books. Either that, or he's planning something. Something big. He immediately shakes off the thought.

"I will go and get your water, Michelangelo. It will only take a few minutes." Master Splinter turns to the door, only pausing to nod in response to Mikey's quiet 'Thank you, Sensei' and slips out of the room. Almost instantly, Mike can feel the tension radiating off his brother. With a quick glance, he takes in Raph's tense shoulders and nervous switch from one foot to the other.

Yup, he's definitely hiding something.

Raph takes the seat Master Splinter just recently vacated before finally raising his head to meet Mikey's gaze. The younger ninja is struck by the raw emotion that's swimming in his brother's dark eyes; the fear and anger and conflict he only ever sees in any of his brothers when they are about to do something big. The thought makes his stomach clench uncomfortably and he shifts in the bed, looking away from Raph to stare at some of the comic pictures he hung on the wall a while ago. The silence between them is uncomfortable; unbearably so, but he doesn't know what to say. Besides, his throat is still raw from coughing and he really doesn't feel like talking or cracking any jokes today.

Huh, He muses. The great Michelangelo doesn't want to talk anymore. Next, Raph will tell me that he's sworn off violence and has committed to the life of a monk. He grimaces and chances a glance back at his brother, who is now glaring at the bed sheets rather than Mikey's head.

Suddenly, Raph stands up and starts walking to the door.

"I'll be right back, Mike." He mumbles out. "I'm gonna go get my radio. It's too damn quiet in here." At his words, Mikey can't help but let out a weak snort of laughter.

"What's wrong, Raphie?" He's attempting to joke, even though he knows that his weak voice and aching head is ruining the humor. "You miss my talking already? Come on now, we all know you do a little happy dance in your room whenever you think about and listen to just how quiet this place is now." He's trying to make Raph laugh; he really is, but Raph freezes when he hears Mikey's words, his hand resting on the doorknob, and suddenly the sounds of both of them breathing seem far too loud to the youngest turtle's ears.

"Mikey…" Raph says, and Mike is taken aback by just how raw his brother sounds; like every emotion in his body is put into saying the one word. He stares at the back of his head, willing him to continue whatever it is that has him so – so emotionally brutal, while at the same time he's scared of what might happen if his brother continues; scared of whatever it is that he might say.

Finally, though, after Raph simply stands in front of the door for a few more seconds, saying nothing, Mikey has gathered enough of his sense – and courage – to urge him to continue.

"Y— Yeah, Raph?" He rasps. He thinks he hears him take a deep breath, and he tenses, preparing himself for the words he's about to release.

"Mikey," Raph repeats, and all the emotion is still there, tensed and ready, like a giant wave that's about to crash on top of both of them. Mikey hears him swallow before he continues, his body still facing the door. "I – We – I—" Raph struggles to put his words together, and the way that he is tensed and shaking makes Mikey nervous, his gaze shifting uncomfortably, like this – this side of his brother that he's never seen – is private and shouldn't be witnessed. He doesn't know why he feels this way, but he also doesn't know what to do, so he stays silent and just listens to Raph breathe, waiting for him to continue.

"I didn't mean it." Mike blinks, because those definitely aren't the words he was expecting.

"What?" He asks, almost stupidly, and now he knows he shouldn't be here. Whatever side of Raph that this is, it's not supposed to have any witnesses. Mike understands these moments; these raw, unadulterated times when he can become something other than – other than Mikey. Something real and full and – and he doesn't quite know the words, but he can feel it, bubbling up inside of him as he looks at his older brother's shell, because Raph still hasn't turned around.

Somewhere in his confused haze, Mikey knows that this moment is significant, that whatever happens now will be unbelievably important. He almost holds his breath, not wanting to miss any of what Raph has to say.

"Mikey, listen to me; and you better listen to me good." His words are unbelievably loud in the tense silence that has taken place, causing Mike to wince and his heartbeat to accelerate. "I don't care what people tell you, bro. I don't care what I tell you. Okay? Listen to me. I don't – I didn't – Shell!" Mikey watches as Raph lifts a shaky hand and runs it heavily over his face, more confused than ever.

Finally, after a few more tense seconds, he asks shakily, "You didn't – you didn't what, Raph?" He almost gets out of bed and attempts to strangle his brother when he still doesn't answer. Then, his rough, strained voice cuts through the dark room.

"Everything that's happening to us – to you – isn't worth the peace and quiet." He spits out the last few words with so much venom that Mikey actually flinches when he hears them. Raph is visibly shaking now, his shell still turned to him and one hand still gripping the doorknob. "The silence isn't – it's not worth it, Mikey. People – They'll tell you - we'll tell you - that silence is golden. Don't listen to them. Don't listen to us, bro. It's not golden. It's not a treasure. It's – It's a noose; a damn noose that hangs you too close to the ground, strangling and killing much slower than it should." He's taking deep breaths, his shoulders rising with each inhale.

Mikey blinks, trying hard to process what his brother just said. This – everything – is getting to be too much for him. He doesn't understand anything anymore, and what Raph just said is making him more muddled and exhausted than before. He has just been told - by Raph - that the peace and quiet and silence isn't worth it.

His world just might be ending.

He is cut out of his thoughts when Raph twists the knob and opens the door, taking a quick, jerky step out of the room. Finally, he turns and fixes Mike with an intense stare. Raph opens his mouth, then shuts it again, his face clearly showing that he's not sure he should say the next thing that's running through his mind. Then, with a firm nod of his head, he looks Mikey in the eye and, as if nothing has happened, says, "I'm gonna go get that radio. Just sit and relax."

Mikey snorts and waits for his door to swing shut before muttering, "Yeah, Raph. Not like I'm going anywhere." His mind is still spinning from his brother's revelation, not quite sure if it happened or not. He's never seen Raph so emotional before, and this is what makes him believe that every word that had just been spoken is true. Even though he never once would have thought that his family would ever miss the constant noise he makes, Raph is the one confessing that Mikey is needed more than he ever realized. The thought both humbles and inflates his ego, and he sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall behind him. He feels his exhausted, desperately healing body start to relax and thinks that he might be able to fall asleep again.

And then he feels it.

His eyes fly open and his head whips forward as a loud, hacking cough claws through his lungs and out his throat. Tears well in his eyes as he struggles to breathe while cough after cough rack through his already frail body, but every time he tries to take a breath, another painful cough rips out of him, making him feel like he's being torn in two.

Kami, but hurts so much!

With mounting panic, he blearily remembers that he is alone in his room and no one can hear him through the thick sewer walls of their home. Desperately, he tries to cry out, but all that is released is a horrified, strangled cry that is hacked short by more coughs. He can feel something warm bubbling up his throat and dripping down his chin, but he can hardly focus on that because the pain and coughing keeps ripping through his insides and up his throat.

Shell, he can't breathe. He can't breathe!

He can feel himself fading away into nothingness, even as the panic and pain seem to increase tenfold as the hacking gets more and more intense.

Raph is practically stomping back to his room, shaking with fury at himself for being so stupid. Why the hell did he tell Mikey that? Why did he fricking tell him anything? He was just supposed to go in and take his shift as watchman while Leo and Donny go over the plan for breaking into the hospital. When Master Splinter left, though, things got just a little too quiet for him and he just – he just wanted his damn radio.

He kicks the door to his room open, not even trying to cover up the loud noise that the action causes. He stomps in and, with an angry huff, yanks his battery powered radio out of its spot below a pile of motorcycle magazines and swivels around to leave.

He takes his time on the way back to Mikey's room, wanting to stall seeing him for as long as possible. He can't decide if he's embarrassed or relieved about what he said. He's never been a very emotional, heart-to-heart kind of guy, but saying all of that to Mikey actually made him feel a little better - about himself, about the whole situation, about everything. He decides that he's still not going to acknowledge that he said anything, just in case Mikey asks, but he figures that his brother will probably try to avoid the subject as much as possible, too.

He's almost to the corner that will lead him back to Mikey's room, and he slows down even more. What should he do when he gets there? Just walk in and blast the radio like nothing's happened? Maybe, if he's lucky, Mike will be asleep by then. He's practically stopped walking now, considering how slow his feet are moving. He doesn't know how long he's been gone, but he hopes it's long enough for his exhausted brother to dose off.

"Michelangelo!"

Raph freezes mid-step, his blood suddenly running cold.

That was Master Splinter's voice. And he sounded terrified.

Raph drops the radio from his suddenly numb fingers and sprints forward, faster than he thinks he's ever run in his life. His heartbeat is roaring in his ears as he flies through the open bedroom door and takes in the scene in front of him, filling him with more horror than any gore at any crime scene has ever given him.

Mikey is sprawled on the floor, his legs tangled hazardously with his blankets and his mouth wide open. He's convulsing so hard that it's amazing he's not just constantly flipping himself over and over, while his hands flail everywhere at once – to his blankets, then his throat, then to claw at the ground, then back to his throat. Raph feels himself choking back a horror-filled sound in his own throat when a muffled gurgling sound draws his attention back to Mikey's mouth, which is now spewing a sickening mix of saliva and blood.

"Raphael, call Donatello!" Master Splinter's voice drags Raph out of his mind numbing shock, only to have him face hysteria-inducing panic. With knees barely managing to hold him up, he turns and stumbles out the door.

"Don! Donny!" His voice is hoarse, but he doesn't care. Where is Don? Why does he feel like he isn't loud enough? "Donny, get over here!" Why the hell does it feel like he's walking so slow? Where the hell is Donny? "Dammit! Where – DONNY, WHERE THE SHELL—"

"What?!"

Raph whips around so fast, he almost congratulates himself on his speed before he remembers why he's going so fast in the first place. "Donny! You've gotta—"

"Raph," Don cuts him off, and now Raph is not just panicking and hysterical, he's pissed. "Just calm down and—"

"Don, shut up and listen!" He snaps, effectively making his brother clamp his mouth shut. "Mikey's like – I don't know – convulsing and spitting blood and—" It takes up to then for his muddled mind to realize that he's not speaking to Donny anymore. More accurately, he's yelling at the wall while Don shoves past him and sprints to Mikey's room. He spins and is almost bowled over when Leo runs past him as well, obviously already informed on what's going on from Raph's shouting.

Raph starts sprinting as well, everything in his body feeling heavy and useless, like he's running through the sewers during one of the big floods. He can't help but feel - can't help but know - that this whole thing is his fault. If I just hadn't left Mikey by himself... He growls and pushes his legs to work harder. He's got to get to him. He's got to make sure he's okay. This whole self-blame can wait til later.

When he finally pushes past Leo and the heavy door, Don has Mikey pinned down on his side, making sure that none of the vomit and blood goes back into the younger turtle's mouth. The convulsions have lessened and gotten smaller, causing a small shiver of panic to run through Raph as he considers that it could be just because Mikey's getting weaker. Seeing the calm though worn and exhausted look on Don's face, however, makes him push his panic aside and take deep breaths. He quickly walks the rest of the way into the room and drops to his knees beside Donny, in front of Mikey's spasming body. It's not until now that he notices the small syringe Don's holding, completely empty of its contents.

A sedative, Raph realizes. He sighs and looks back down at Mikey. It feels oddly like his heart is hurting when he looks down at his brother, but he quickly pushes the feeling aside when Leo's voice carries over to him.

"Raph, what happened?" His voice isn't loud or commanding. In fact, it's soft and light; the simple voice of a simple question. Even so, Raph winces at the words and barely notices that Mikey has stopped shaking and is now just lying on the cold floor, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. Out of the corner of his eye, Raph sees Don lean forward towards him and Leo, but keeps a keen eye on Mikey.

"I – I don't—" He sighs and shakes his head. I left my post, Leo. I left it to go get my damn radio, and left Mikey alone 'cause I was embarrassed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It's pathetic, he knows. He should just own up to what he did, but… He looks down at Mikey, lying in front of him, looking as dead as death itself. That is his fault. He left his one responsibility behind, and now Mikey had suffered the consequences. What would have happened if Master Splinter hadn't come back when he did? Raph had been taking his sweet time getting back. What if Mikey had—?

He clenches his eyes back shut, unwilling to think of – of that. A soft, comforting hand on his shoulder reminds him of Master Splinter's presence, and the shame washes over him tenfold. If Splinter hadn't shown up, no one would have known that Mikey was in trouble, and he could have died. He opens his mouth to speak, and he is more than prepared to tell Leo everything that happened, when he is all of a sudden cut off by a hoarse, weak voice.

"It – it was my fault, Leo."

Raph stares down at Mikey, his mouth still open, more confused than he has probably ever been in his life. What the hell…?

"What do you mean, Mikey?" Leo sounds just about as confused as Raph feels, and the red-clad turtle can't get himself to say anything.

"I'm sorry, Leo, Master Splinter." Mike's eyes are still closed, his body shaking once again from exhaustion. Raph can see the ragged movement of his brother's chest and shoulders as he struggles to breathe, but his voice is still clearly heard above everything else. Donny leans over Mikey's body to get a clearer look at his face. Mike slowly blinks open his eyes, looking shakily at everyone around him. When his gaze sweeps over Raph, the older turtle is still too dumbstruck to process what he's doing.

"Raph was watching me like he was supposed to," Mikey explains, "and I asked him to go get his radio for me." He's breathing hard by the end of the sentence, but his gaze has gotten more steady and firm. Raph feels himself beginning to shake again, but this time it's not from fear. What is it, he wonders?

Remorse?

Confusion?

Irritation?

Why is Mikey taking the blame for something he didn't do?

"You're saying that Raph left because you asked him to get his radio?" Don speaks for the first time since this whole mess started. His voice is skeptical, disbelieving. Raph really can't bring himself to blame him and opens his mouth to speak; to tell the truth, which is something Mikey seems to have forgotten in his semi-delusional state.

"Actually, Don—"

"Yes." Raph snaps his head down to glare forcefully at Mike for cutting him off, but his brother is ignoring him now, his eyes trained solely on Don, who is still kneeling over him and rubbing his shell and chest plate. He continues to glare as Mikey works a slow, weak smile onto his sickly green face. "I know, stupid, right? I just really wanted some music so—"

"What about your radio, Mike?" Leo's the one to ask the question. The room falls silent as all eyes turn to Raph, then back to the youngest brother, still lying on the floor.

"Well," the Mikey starts, seemingly fumbling with his words. Raph decides to start the real explaining now while his brother is still tongue-tied.

"Look, Leo. Mikey didn't ask for his radio because he didn't—"

"It's not working," Mikey suddenly squeaks, his eyes wide. "I need some new batteries and – and I keep forgetting to ask Donny for new ones." He turns large, innocent eyes on his genius brother and says pleadingly, "Don, how 'bout some new batteries for your favorite bro?"

Raph snorts. This is stupid. Why is Mikey saying this is his fault? He looks over at Leo and Don, mentally threatening to bash his own head in if his two other brothers believe the story. They both still look doubtful about it, but Don nods his head anyways.

"Sure, Mike," he mumbles before slipping his hands underneath the smaller turtle's body. He makes a face then looks up at Raph. "Could you help me out here, bro?" he asks, gesturing with his head to Mikey's body, then up to the bed next to them. Numbly, Raph bends and slips his own arms under Mike's other side.

When they finally get him onto the bed, he looks exhausted and ready to pass out. "Thanks, guys," he whispers, then lets his head lie back on the pillows, his eyes fluttering closed. Raph lets out a sigh of relief, then turns back to the other three standing in the room. Before he can speak, though, Master Splinter holds up his hand for silence then looks down at their sleeping family member. With his other hand, he motions for his three standing sons to step out of the room.

His message is clear: Step out to talk. I will watch Michelangelo. With a swift bow of thanks, Raph walks out of the room to where Leo and Donny have already gone.

When they are all sitting in the lab again, Donny can't help but feel like he has been in this room for far too long. And that's saying something, because he's never tired of his lab, or his research, or his books, or anything in that room really. Now, though, he just wants to lock the door and sleep on the main couch, wrapped from head to toe in a warm blanket, never to wake up for another thousand years.

That sounds amazing, he muses. He looks over at his two brothers, examining their faces closely. Raph looks like he's in deep thought, like there's a great big puzzle that he just can't figure out. Leo looks every bit the part of a worn down warrior, with his tired, pale-green face and slumped shoulders. Don lets out a tired sigh and sinks down on the first piece of lab equipment that's safe enough to be a chair and motions for Leo and Raph to do the same. After a few minutes of heavy (Not tense, Don thinks. Just heavy) silence, Raph is the one who speaks first.

"You know he was lying, right?" Odd choice of first words, Donny believes, but he'd already known that Mikey was just covering for his older brother. There is no way in Heaven or in Hell he would ever forget to switch the batteries in his radio if they were to get low.

"Yeah," Leo replies, but he doesn't sound harsh or accusing; just accepting, like he's simply acknowledging a comment on the shine of his own katana. "We all know he'd never let his batteries' energy run too low." Raph just snorts and says nothing, staring blankly at the ground in front of him. Donny simply watches, imagines the words floating through the room.

He's tired. He's really tired. They all are.

"Donny and I were working on the plan," Leo says, bringing the attention of his two brothers to him. "We think we've figured out how best to get into the hospital, but it's risky, and not very good." He's addressing Raph directly now, filling him in on all the plans he missed. "We should be set to go in three days, but..." He trails off now, and this catches Donny's attention, even though he has a pretty good idea what his brother's going to say. By the looks of it, Raph has a pretty good idea, too.

Raph sighs and speaks. "Three days is..." He looks at Don, as if searching for confirmation. The purple-banded turtle nods and looks back at Leo.

"Three days is too long," He finishes for Raph. "Mikey seems to be getting worse by the hour. Three days might be too late." He hates to say the last part, but he knows it's true. They need to act as fast as they can. If they wait too long, there may be nothing to act for.

After a few more minutes, Raph huffs, seemingly tired of waiting, and stands up straight, turning quickly to face Leo. "You just gonna sit there, Fearless?" he growls, his body tense and shaking. "You just gonna sit there all pretty? Even though Don just said that Mikey's gettin' worse by the hour?" Leo remains quiet, not even looking up to acknowledge Raph's words. Finally, though, after some tense moments, he looks at Raph.

"You're right," he says simply. The two words seem to knock his red-clad brother off guard.

"What?" Donny's the one to ask the question. What is Leo thinking now? Leo looks back at the young genius, his face set in strong, determined lines.

"Raph's right," he repeats. "No more waiting. We can't take another three days. Mikey might not have that long." He takes a deep breath while Don holds his own. With one last look at Raph, Leo says. "We're leaving. Now."

The hot-head brother of the three stands up straighter than he has in a while, a proud, humorless grin set on his features. "Now," he says gruffly, "That's what I'm talking about."

END OF CHAPTER 4

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