A furious throw was sent to the punching bag. Under momentum, it swayed, the spine of chains creaking which held it above the centered flooring. It swung a distance, clattering loosely until it gave way to the suffocation of its steel restraints. It returned to its heavy sustained hover, waiting for a next round.

Sunlight bristled itself from the open coverts of sewer grates, creating a light harmonization through the thistle oak tree of the dojo. Delicate beams traced themselves woven through branches and shedding taints of light on the two terrapins in its wake.

"Alright, Don―" Raphael, who turned from beating his way to the punching bag's core, turned to his brother. A sweat beaded forehead glistened slightly as a green hand wiped at them roughly.

"We need to get you back into shape. So― try to hit this sucker!"

He looked at his brother, driven by his own determination; emerald hued eyes flashing glaringly at the terrapin. But all he did was direct a blank eyed look sideways, towards the arsenal of their weapons sheathed into ember wooden compartments masterfully.

At first, Raphael chipped his mouth shut, his mind pushing a midway command down his throat once more. The turtle was sat down on the rugged floor, clumsily though in dumbfounded content. He said nothing― did nothing― but stare; it was all he ever did all day no matter how much they tried him for any other gesture. He refused to even take notice of his idly stitched head but, like a pink elephant in a subway, it sat― challenging him and staid gout above all else.

A lining that encircled the top of his head was woven to a close timidly. Scabs of blood pulsed from slightly unfinished jobs, the dried blood through stitches. The scar kept vile at the scalp and Raphael thanked that the rest was vanished into the crevices of the back of his head― where he couldn't see them.

The unprofessionally fixed wound made a morbid display on the turtle's head but, as if the injury wasn't there, he stared― sat there with an idle expression in his eyes like he was aware of nothing.

Raphael wished that weren't the truth.

The mahogany lit gaze that he knew so well had vanished for eternity from his brother's solace; same eyes― but his eyes now grew unfamiliar. He didn't know this Donatello; he didn't want to know him. Raph still couldn't believe― wouldn't believe― that this was now his blabber mouthed genius of a brother.

"... Come on, Don," his voice pushed a bit further, fathered with a slight patience in reminder of Donatello's condition.

"You gotta get moving!"

He clasped his hands together in attempt to get his dumbfounded attention. This was like trying to encourage a stale infant to smile for a camera or trying to get an old dog to chase after a ball.

He didn't like it.

Raphael started to frown. He wasn't about to give into the case scenario and click his lips together in desperation. With a flick of his wrist, he dashed his torn tails of crimson away to where they lay dangling on his coarse, shell covered back.

"Come on― you can't just sit there! You gotta move one way or another!"

Nothing.

All motions that arose from the turtle was a wiggling of his toes.

Anger started to boil in Raph with a mix of fear. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. Raphael tried scanning for a signal― an oral sign to ensure that his brother wasn't lost. He wanted to believe that under that dazed, one noted look, was the Donatello he came to know.

As the unpleasant realization started to course through him, a surge of irritation struck him bitter.

"Do something, dammit!"

His hoarse yell tore away at the sincere, atmospheric calm of the dojo; a furious cry that even he flinched at. He took a glance at his brother only to find his face widening in an undeniable terror. His feet curled inwards closer to his chest while a hand was propped behind him― as if he were ready to run for it. Slowly, Raphael's anger started to simmer. His throat felt rough like sandpaper, choked with a mass of guilt.

"Hey... Hey. Don." He started, but in the loss of his brother's fearful daze, he didn't know how to continue. In gradual struggle, the words came to him in calmness.

"You know what... Let me help you."

He took a step forward, but all that did was null. Don backed as if he were setting a shaking finger on the trigger of a gun, trying to defend himself from a monster that threatened him. A monster that was his brother.

Raphael timidly took a few steps forward, arms widening as he tried to calm his brother down.

"Donnie…I…"

Before he could even reach for his fearful brother, his name echoed through the dojo; "Raphael!"

Raph tore his attention from Donnie and whipped his head to see his older brother, arm crossed, by the doorway. "What the shell do you think you're doing with Don? He's supposed to be resting –in bed!" Leonardo bitterly yelled, azure eyes narrowed to a scowl.

"Donnie needs to get out of bed before all his muscles becomes to jell-o, and since when the shell do you care?" He remarked, he stalked his way towards the eldest. "We're supposed to take shifts to take care of the Brainiac, and you're ignoring him. What's wrong with you?" Raphael jabbed a finger at him, his head raised.

"I'm not ignoring him, Raph." Leo weakly protest, but kept his glare ablaze. "Donnie shouldn't be out of bed, and you know that!" He yelled with a nagging tone. They closed in on each other, the lethal looks in their eyes never shifted as they stood mere inches from breaking the last coat of poise that kept them from a relentless fight.

"Donnie's fine, Leo. He rested long enough, he needs to be in shape!" Raph shouted back, arms folding over each other.

"Don needs - "

"Will you shut up already? He's already up, and he's fine! Now go be an ass somewhere else and go back wallowing in your own guilt! You didn't show concern for him then, so why the hell are you starting now?! Dammit, Fearless, just leave us alone already!"

"I'm not wallowing in my own guilt, Raph. Why should I be guilty anyway? My decision was clear, and you even agreed to it, we all knew it's snowing out there –and we all knew what the results of leaving Don to the Shredder was!" The two brothers continued to bicker. Initially, Raph had known and accepted their decision. They couldn't have fought the Shredder and won, the cold would have killed them all. At some degree, he vaguely understood the choice of leaving one to save the group.

But—he peaked at his little damaged brother on the carpet and his fists shook at each side as his eyes flickered back towards his supposed leader, responsible for this mess— it had been the wrong thing to do.

But that wasn't the problem right now.

"That doesn't mean it's okay to ignore your own brother, Leo!" Raph's breaths grew heavy- stale with hints of anger that whispered silent curses to the turtle ahead of him. Everything Leo did- everything he said- was pissing him off to no end. His hands, clutched and nearly risen to his side, shook as his will worked to resist the fervent urge to give his – oh so – Fearless Leader a piece of his mind.

The two angered turtles had quickly forgotten about their younger brother, who continued to sit on the floor, attempting to stand himself up. He was having trouble. His left-hand hesitated to place itself on the mat, and his legs trying to pull himself up. He attempted to use his right hand to heave himself up, but, like him, it fell back down.

Don swallowed a lump, his right leg dragging itself up, before he sat back down. It was no use. He gazed at his hands, looking up to see the red and blue mask turtles. The Red one made him feel scared, yet somehow there was love in between that, and Blue… He doesn't really remember him. He doesn't interact with him like Orange and Red.

The injured turtle gazed on the ground, trying to lift himself up. He ignored the two different voices yelling at one another, he didn't try to understand what was going on. Whatever words came out of their mouths was gibberish to him. He only understood a few words, and that wasn't helpful in his defense.

He needed help getting up, the mats were very uncomfortable and he was starting to ache. Where was Orange? The one who was always considerate of helping him? His mind was a mess, he couldn't concentrate on one thing with another at the same time, and he didn't understand what was going on.

He lifted his head to feel the soup crawl up in his throat. It took him by surprise. Bright lights took over his vision. He gave out a small choke before he grew rigid, and slumped to the ground, the last thing he heard was someone yelling out what seemed like his name, before everything darkened.

"Raph, Leo? What's going on? A groggy Michelangelo slurred. Since he took night and morning shift to take care of Don, he barely slept at all. This was the only time he did sleep though, unfortunately, his timing couldn't be more of an unlucky coincidence. They just had to have a fight during his only chance at rest. Michelangelo had grown used to Leo's and Raph's constant bickering- but he was too irritably woken up to stand it right now; not in these times.

"Fearless -"

"Raph -"

Mikey interrupted both, before either one could speak; "Guys… Where's Donnie?" He asked, almost suspicious. He turned his head to the right, his sleepiness forgotten as his eyes widened. "Donnie!" He cried out, sprinting to his unconscious brother.

Donnie was convulsing, violently.

"Guys!" His voice shook and he turned his head to see Leo and Raph coming his way. He was unsure what to do, or what was going on. He grabbed Donnie's arms, in a weak attempt to make his shaking stop.

"Mikey don't hold him down! Raph, go get Master Splinter." Leo barked out, seeing Raph run out of the dojo and Mikey backing away from his brother.

Leonardo rolled Donnie to his side, making sure his airway was open. His whole-body spasm and shook violently – relentlessly. Don grunted as Leo placed his hands under his head to avoid it from hitting the ground with impact. His brother's eyes were open, more unfocused and dilated than before. Arms jerked in every direction. Drool began to form on his brothers' mouth, slowly seeping out of his mouth.

"That's it, little brother. Let it all out." Leo whispered, his eyes looking worriedly up to Mikey's. He paid no attention to the unsheathed tears forming on his eyes as Leo looked down to keep his gaze to his shaking brother.

Moments later, Raph came running in with Master Splinter behind his heels.

Splinter fell to his knees, taking over control as he brought Donnie's head to his thigh. He noticed immediately that Don gritted his teeth as his limbs tightened.

Everyone was quiet as he said soothing words to his second youngest son.

"Shh, everything will be alright my son." Splinter softly said to him, not letting Donnie's head slide off his thigh.

"How long has this been going on?" Splinter asked, looking up at his three sons.

"I'm not sure, Sensei. Mikey was the one who noticed." Leo answered, his tone laced with worry as he gazed at the cream patterned mats.

"That's it, my son. Breathe." Splinter's hands were rubbing soothingly on his head, his hand holding his head from sliding off his thigh.

Donatello stopped shaking, but every few seconds or so he would jerk or grunt. His eyes were still unfocused and he breathe throughout his nose heavily. Splinter stroke his head; "you are safe Donatello; I can assure you."

Donnie's head jerked back on his father's thigh, he attempted to stand up himself, maroon glossy eyes staring back at Splinter's sad, auburn pupils.

"No, Donatello, do not attempt to stand up, please rest back." Donnie acknowledge Splinter, resting his head back at his thigh, before attempting to stand up once again. "Donatello; listen. Do not get up." Splinter ordered, his tone calm. Donnie once again grunted, his breaths sounding like snores. He laid back down, concentrating on his breathing.

Splinter stroke his forearm, acknowledging his sons three minutes into the seizure. "Please go fetch some water for your brother." He said, mostly to Leo. Mikey cradled himself within the comfort of his Raph's embrace. He buried himself into his shoulder, his sobs trickling softly- muffled by his brother's course muscles.

Leonardo obeyed with no objections and rushed out of the dojo in seconds.