Splinter watched as Donatello pulled the cover tighter around Raphael's shoulders. The red masked turtle had gotten badly wounded. The turtles turned to their rat leader. "Will he be ok?" they asked and Splinter shook his head sadly.

"He can never be healed."

Michelangelo turned away angrily and banged his fist against the wall. "No!" Leanardo put his arm around his brother's shoulder.

"Bro, I'm so sorry," the blue masked turtle said.

Raphael moaned as he tried to move. Splinter carefully held him down, aware not to hurt his son further. "Lay still, my son." Raphael grew silent, looking at the only one he knew as father.

"I'm going to die..."

Splinter nodded his head. Donatello squeezed his brother's hand as he kneeled beside the sofa. "Hey dude, we're here for you," Leanardo whispered.

He and Michelangelo kneeled by their brothers. Raphael gave a small smile. Splinter went into the kitchen and filled a bowl with ice cubes then went to his sons again. Raphael sighed as their father rubbed an ice cube on his dry lips. After the rat did that he placed the ice cube back into the bowl again.

The wounded turtle closed his eyes as tiredness settled on him even more. "Don't forget us," Leanardo whispered.

"I won't," the sleepy reply came.

Splinter kneeled beside his sons. "Is there anything else we can do, my son?"

Raphael shook his head and moaned. Donatello looked at the others with tear filled eyes. "We will miss you, Raf," Leanardo whispered. Michelangelo leaned forward, resting his forehead onto the sofa. Raphael gently put his arm around his brother's neck then withdrew it. He gave a deep sigh as he rested his hand on the blanket again and then his face grew pale as he stilled.