Master Splinter blinked.
The atmosphere had become suspensefully quiet - somewhat like a hospital. He and his sons were all in the lair - one motionlessly lying on a makeshift medical bed, a mattress on the floor, one sitting in a chair fiddling his thumbs, one pacing back and forth across the floor and another sitting on the floor against the couch with his head in his arms. They'd already been back for almost two days, but they were still as worried and fidgety as when they came in, carrying their smallest brother.
He was shocked when he saw the state they were in - especially Mikey. He was covered in blood and battle injuries, his right arm and calve were pierced, his left arm was broken, multiple ribs were cracked, he had burns all over and - for some reason - down his throat, he'd lost far too much blood, his breathing was shallow and his heart was weak, relapsing into cardiac arrest four times after they arrived. The three of them had tried to hash out some sort of manic explan