TMNT and their homies belong to Mirage. I need to buy some popcorn today...

Cooperation

The smell of freshly popped corn permeated the lair as only the popcorn aroma could. Mikey, up in his room where he and Splinter had been planning (until the frantic phone call from Casey had pulled his father, anger flashing from his dark eyes, topside) picked up the lovely scent- or rather, it picked him up, like in those old cartoons where the character floated along, eyes closed, as the smell of some delicious item of food carried him to the source.

Mikey laughed as that image filled his mind even as he left his room and headed downstairs. Jumping to the bottom floor from the railing, he saw Don coming out of the kitchen, a huge bowl of the fluffy white, crunchy goodness in one hand, a large glass of soda in the other, and an expectant expression on his face.

Amused, Mikey watched as his cheerfully whistling brother set his snacks on the end table, then started fussing with Splinter's chair, moving it this way and that, studying each slight angle change with all the concentration and seriousness that he afforded his most precious of experiments or inventions. Now and then he would suddenly sit in the chair and look towards the door, frown, get up, scoot the chair just a bit to the left or the right, sit in it again, leaning back, pretending to hold something in his hands- and all the time, his gaze would travel to the main entrance.

Satisfied at last, he retrieved his drink and bowl and made himself comfortable.

"What are you doing?" Mikey asked finally, coming over and helping himself to a messy handful of popcorn, dropping nearly as much as he had picked up.

"Careful, shell for brains!" Don protested, trying to save every precious kernel from hitting the floor. Don did NOT subscribe to the five second rule, and unlike Mikey and Raph, would NOT pick any dropped food off the floor at once and immediately pop it into his mouth. "I'm getting ready for the show."

Mikey laughed, no more explanation needed. Ever since Leo and Raph had started sneaking out, Don had discovered a great love of watching the results of their efforts. Even he couldn't explain why he increasingly enjoyed watching the two elder brothers squirm and whine and argue and plead with Splinter after each and every track down and capture.

"Perhaps it's because I'm still so very angry with them," he had shrugged once to Mikey, in the early days of the escape attempts, when he had nearly earned twenty flips for laughing and goading them on while Splinter, who had just caught them in the garage, starting up the Battle Shell, was giving them a heaping helping of parental anger.

At any rate, Donatello had found "The Leo and Raph Show" to be the best entertainment to come along in years, and he never tired of it.

"Care if I join you for this one?" Mikey grinned, and at Don's answering laugh, he quickly hit the kitchen for his own drink and an empty bowl. Back in the family room, Don filled up Mikey's bowl with popcorn while his brother arranged the cushions on the couch. Grabbing his bowl with a "thanks, Don!", he, too, got comfortable.

Then the two of them sat, watching the front door with almost the same eagerness and expectations as they used to do when very young, and they were awaiting the return of Father from his scavenging trips, hoping for some promised treat or unexpected surprise.

They did not have to wait long.

The door opened, and Leo and Raph came in, Splinter right behind them. Not a sound, not a word, not a tiny peep was coming from anyone at that moment- except the soft crunching of popcorn.

"You two, upstairs. Now," was all Splinter said. Mikey and Don exchanged disappointed glances.

"That's it? You're just sending them to their rooms?" Don asked, surprised.

"I meant you two," Splinter, eyes never leaving Leonardo and Raphael, said shortly.

"Wh-what?" Mikey tried stalling for time, but it was not going to work. With a stern glance at the two observers, Don and Mikey slowly gathered their concessions and headed to their rooms.

"Sit down, my sons," Splinter said to the others, as he claimed his own chair, carefully brushing stray popcorn kernels from it into his hand and then just as carefully depositing them on the coffee table for the moment.

Leo and Raph sat on the couch, Raph immediately grabbing a cushion to squeeze against his growing frustration and anger.

"Let us discuss this calmly," Splinter began, though he was feeling far from calm. He had to forcefully push to the back of his imagination the image of him putting them over his knee and spanking them soundly as he used to when they were turtle tots; that would not solve any of his problems though it might make him feel good for a moment. These two- these two were aging their father with each escape attempt.

"What's to discuss?" Leo asked honestly. "We broke our word. Again. As you predicted."

"And your reason for suddenly doing so this time?" Splinter asked.

"Why didn't anyone tell us that the Foot attacked Don and Mikey?" Leo countered, trying to keep his anger in check, but feeling it just below the surface of his determination. He stared his father in the eyes- his face was a combination of frustration and hurt. He was supposed to be the "leader", yet he had been kept in the dark regarding Karai's breech of the truce- the truce that she had declared!

"How did you find out about this?" Splinter asked, slightly surprised.

"I heard you and Mikey talking about it earlier."

"Dude! YOU were eavesdropping? YOU?"

"Michelangelo!" Splinter angrily said, looking up. Donatello was just smacking Michelangelo on the back of the head for giving them away.

"We're going, Sensei," Don assured him, pulling his brother behind him.

Splinter waited until he heard two doors close, then turned back to the others.

"So, you heard us discussing this, and that sent you topside," Splinter stated rather than asked.

"Yes," Leo responded. "I had to get out, to find out what was going on. I should have been told. WE should have been told!"

"Because?"

"We're a family! We're a team! Why were we left out?"

Splinter sat quietly, hoping that Leonardo's own words would alert this stubborn son to the irony of his statement.

"We had no right to expect it, Leo," Raph, figuring it out, sighed. "We were treated the way we treated them."

Leo felt as if he were going to start yelling.

"How many times do we have to beg forgiveness for doing so?" he gritted his teeth, struggling more and more to keep from raising his voice. "We've even gone down on our knees! How much longer are we going to be punished for going after Bishop?"

"As long as you live!" Splinter suddenly snapped back. His anger was also struggling to get loose, to vent itself once again upon the two who had nearly committed suicide in their mission against their personal enemy. "As long as you live, I will take every opportunity to remind you of it! I nearly lost you both!"

There was tense silence for a few moments as everyone forced their emotions to calm down.

"Yes, it makes no sense," Splinter could almost read their thoughts. "Yes, from the moment when I realized that you were capable of learning all I could teach you, that you could be the help I needed in avenging the death of Master Yoshi, I trained you up to be Ninja! I trained you to fight, to kill- and you have done all these things! You have avenged my master's death; you have risked your lives, you have been injured and wounded and left for dead several times! And I felt these things each time! Do you think they did not affect me? Did you imagine that I was heartless and uncaring each time one of you was carried, bleeding and battered and barely breathing, back to the Lair for either Donatello or myself to patch up, to nurse back to health?"

Splinter stood up and paced the floor; his tail was lashing angrily, his hands he had to keep clasped tightly together to prevent them from grabbing both of his sons and banging their heads together. He took several deep breaths, then stood still, facing his sons.

"Each time I felt these things- and yet, it was expected. I had no reason to regret. I was afraid that I may lose you, but I did not fear it. But this time- this time, it was different. This time it was as if I was watching the two of you deliberately run into traffic, or jump from a bridge, or commit seppuko! This time... I feared that I had lost you."

He sat back down, tired, and risked a glance at the two on the couch.

"You tried that speech before," Raph pointed out. "We got it the first dozen times."

CHOKEGASPCHOKECOUGHCOUGHSNICKERSNICKERGAGCOUGH!

Bits of half-chewed popcorn suddenly began "snowing" from above, and all three looked up to see Don frantically slapping Mikey on the shell as his brother alternately choked on his food and tried to laugh at what Raph had said.

Splinter shook his head, sighed. Perhaps he was punishing the wrong two...

"Look," Leo began, trying to salvage something from this fiasco. "Please, Sensei- we just want to return to our old lives! We just want to go out with our brothers, to go on patrol again- to be part of the team. We understand your concerns, but we're better! We really are! Please- we just want to be together again."

"Again, I say to you- do I need to remind you of the oath you swore to me?"

"Damn it!" Leo exploded, jumping up off the couch- and suddenly found himself eye to eye with Splinter, who had come out of his chair as quickly if not quicker than Leonardo. Though they were all taller than Sensei by many inches, one always had the feeling that he was equal in height, if not taller, at times like these.

After a minute of the stare down, Leo averted his gaze; shoulders slumped, head hanging. He forced himself not to sigh in defeat.

"Hmmm... what will it take to keep you two in the Lair until I say you may leave?" Splinter mused, as Leonardo avoided his gaze and waited for yet another punishment.

"How about stapling their toes to the floor of the dojo?" Michelangelo suggested.

"That won't work," Donatello informed his youngest brother. "But I have some really powerful glue, Sensei."

"Enough," Splinter said, eyes still on Leonardo.

"Or we could use those electronic monitoring devices," Don continued. "You know, those ankle bracelets that they attach to people under house arrest."

"Yeah, like Martha Stewart!" Mikey grinned.

"I said enough," Splinter warned, looking up at the others.

"I know!" Don said, inspiration striking. "GPS- Global Positioning Systems! We could track them via satellite!"

"Thirty flips, Donatello! Be in the dojo in five minutes!"

Mikey looked at Don as he and his brother gathered up the remains of their snacks.

"Too bad about the flips, bro," he sympathized. But Don shook his head, a grin splitting his face.

"It was worth it!" he avowed as they headed for downstairs to put away the bowls and glasses. "It was worth thirty flips!"