MIND-MAIMED-TMNT fanfic

Chapter 12: "I Miss You..."

Splinter POV:

Over the course of the next few weeks, my sons began to recover one by one. Michelangelo was the first, but he hadn't been that injured to begin with. Donatello and Raphael were a different story. All their other injuries had healed, expect Donatello's leg wound and Raphael's arms, and my body as well. Mine was due to old age, but their wounds had been due to their severity of their infliction. 

Donatello's recovery would go faster if just take the time to relax and rest. I had force to slow down and took his only source of his independence away: his crutches. He moped and pouted the whole time he sat on the sofa, but soon got over his moodiness when April gave him small smalls to fix like the toaster or something. His face lighted up immediately, so after checking on his brother's arms, he would take up residence on the couch. His crutches often laid forgotten in the corner of the room as his leg grew stronger.

Raphael, on the other hand, did nothing but rest. My normally hot-tempered son took residence in my small room to meditate with me. He would not leave for hours at time and Michelangelo often brought him food for him. The only time he left was when his wraps on his arms needed to be changed. During the time I help tend to his wounds, Michelangelo would often join me and talk to us. He would recall stories of when they were tots and the adventures they had in the sewers. Most of his stories involved Leonardo, and I could tell it pain Raphael greatly at the mention of my fallen son's name. Even though they always seemed to fight, both of my blue-clad and red-clad sons were actually really close. Raphael still hadn't spoken since that dreadful night that we lost Leonardo. My heart ached for him, and all my sons. I had put my own grief aside for now so I could help my sons, but every night I would wake up with nightmares of my fearless son yelling out for Saki to stop. Raphael would come into my room, when this happened and comfort me the best he could. Sometimes his brothers would join him, and I would often wake up in the morning on the floor with my four sons piled over me and each other in a huge turtle-rat pile. They hadn't done this since they were tots and it was actually quite amusing. Little did I know that they did this to help with their own personal grief of the loss of their fearless leader.

Miss O' Neil was also trying her best to help us. Mr. Jones was too, but he ended up causing more strife sometimes. For example, the other day he was trying to get Raphael to spar with him. My son's arms were healed enough to where he could start training again. However, Raphael was not having it.

"Come on Raph! I'm bored...You've been stuck in this place for awhile. Let's go outside and throw some punches!" 

Raphael shook his ahead again and turned away. His large fingers stroked his pet turtle, whom he had name Chompy. I had to admit, the new friend kept him from going completely into a husk-like state. I often caught a few smiles from him as he played with his alien turtle. I could see Mr. Jones temper start to peek out. He had been trying for the past few days for Raphael to go outside with him, and he had pestering him for the last few hours now. 

"Raph, come on dude!" Mr. Jones pestered again, this time getting hold of Raphael's arm. My son quickly jumped back, glaring angrily at his friend. I saw some of the old temper came back to his green eyes, but it faded away as quickly as it had come. Mr. Jones saw it too, and a new look of determination dawned on his face.

"Dude, COME ON! We're going outside whether you like it or not! You need to get over yourself. What would Leo say if he was here right now?" Mr. Jones stated.

Suddenly, my son launched a hard punch straight into Mr. Jones' jaw. The gangster teen was dazed as I saw him laid on his back. His mouth was a little red and bleeding a little. Raphael was breathing heavily, and I could see tears running down his cheeks. He quickly pushed past his surprised brothers and Ms. O' Neil and dashed up to our shared room. Chompy cried out as he was rolled onto his back as  he fell from his owner's grasp.  I quickly picked up the fallen critter and made sure he wasn't injured. Donatello and Michelangelo had tried to run up after him, but I inquired them not bother him. Raphael needed to be alone at the moment. Plus Donatello still couldn't make up the stairs without help, and Michelangelo was not that strong yet.