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The rat was sick–this much Draxum knew. No matter how hard he tried to brush it off, the fact that he could barely bring himself to stand clued in the yōkai quickly to his condition.
“Fever. You are ill.” the yōkai stated, removing his hand from his co-parent’s head.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Splinter snapped before sneezing loudly. Draxum adjusted the piece of cloth he used as a makeshift mask–they could not afford two sick adults.
“Why…did you have to give me fur? It's so hot.” The ill man whined.
Draxum bit his tongue–he wanted to state that the rat grew his own fur, but he decided against it; the rat was suffering enough already. “Just relax. You need rest to recover.”
“I need fucking tylenol–I have a headache.”
“I do not know what ‘tylenol’ is, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to bring back your strength.” After a moment, he added, “After all, I can not take care of the boys alone.”
Splinter laughed–it quickly turned to a coughing fit, “Aw, you care.”
His words were met with a sigh. “I must go feed the boys– stay in bed .” With that, Draxum exited the room.
“Is he alright?” Huginn asked, fluttering over, his partner not far behind.
He considered his words carefully. The rat would recover, but at the current moment he most certainly was not in his prime. “After rest and medication, he will be fine. It is just a fever.”
“Phew!” The goyles let out. Muninn continued, settling himself on Draxum’s shoulder. “The boys are real hungry–they’re already in their seats!”
“Then I will not make them wait longer.” Making his way to the kitchen, he saw the turtles–his sons , as odd as it was to admit–who clambered onto the table, chirping and playing about. “What have I said about standing on the table?”
Slowly, the boys descended. “Sorry, Dad!” Leonardo apologized.
‘Dad’. It never got less strange. Over a year into this whole situation–and being called ‘Dad’ by these children set off emotions that, until recently, he never knew existed.
Draxum opened an upper cabinet–pulling out a cardboard box. The yōkai knew he couldn’t cook–one would think as an alchemist, he would be able to throw a meal together–but past experiences have proven otherwise.
It would be best to stick with cereal for now. Luckily, the boys ate up the food regardless. Draxum turned his attention to finding medicine. Opening another cabinet, he felt around. Damn it. The last time either of them had gone topside to find medicine was when they were stocking up on ‘children’s’ medicine (Nevermind the fact he believed the human medication would have little to no effect on the tots) and it seemed that both the men neglected to find medicine that could be consumed by adults.
He resisted the overwhelming urge to slam his head into the wall. He was no medic–never one for healing wounds–just causing them. If he just had his lab–
No. He couldn't think like that. He was the Baron Draxum. And this bout of flu would not best him–with or without medicinal potions.
“Where’s papa?” The way ‘papa’ was spoken clued Draxum into the fact that Donatello was speaking.
Once again, the yōkai would have to speak carefully. No sense in worrying the boys. “He needed some more rest.”
While this seemed to shut down suspicions for the youngest three, Raphael didn’t seem as keen on accepting this. The snapper hopped off his chair. He pointed to Draxum, then to his own face, drawing a line with his finger from his eye to his cheek.
Draxum was long used to the tot’s lack of speech. All the boys struggled with it–but Raphael and Donatello had it the roughest, often refusing to speak altogether. “No, I am not sad. Your papa is fine.”
This much seemed to calm his oldest down. By now, the other boys had scarfed down their breakfast and ran to the living room. Draxum watched as they took to engaging in their usual morning shenanigans, fighting the smile that threatened to crest upon his face.
“You love ‘em~” Huginn cooed.
Draxum rolled his eyes–he got enough teasing from the rat–he didn’t need his minions to join in on the dog-piling. “Spending months with young children causes one to become…fond.”
The sound of soft footsteps caught the yōkai’s attention. Thinking it was one of the turtles, he turned to acknowledge them–but instead saw the outline of his co-parent.
“Rat.” Draxum began, furrowing his brows, “I told you to stay in bed–”
The rat growled–not like the usual grumble of annoyance–but a deep growl. Splinter stepped out from the shadows he was slinking around in. His hair was wild, and his pupils were greatly dilated. More growling sounds emitted from the other man as he stared at Draxum. Eyeing him–like a predator about to pounce on its prey.
“Hey, Splinter? You good?” Muninn asked, flying over to check on the sick mutant. The moment he got within a meter of him, Splinter hissed, teeth bared. The gargoyle fluttered back.
“ Splinter .” Draxum stated. The rat trained his eyes back onto Draxum, taking a single step forward. “You need to return to your roo–”
With an unholy screech, Splinter dropped on all fours and raced towards Draxum. With little time to react, the warrior was knocked to the floor, holding back the snarling mutant. “Get the boys to safety–!” He commanded, gripping onto Splinter’s face, trying to hold his maw shut.
“But boss–”
“THE BOYS–ROOM– NOW !” Draxum kept himself focused on the rat. In addition to trying to bite him–he was scratching at his chest. The yōkai managed to maneuver his leg so he could kick his attacker off. Splinter was sent skidding back, shaking his head rapidly.
Draxum could hear the rapid thumping in his ears. What happened ? The rat was fine (well, as fine as he could be) earlier–so why was he attacking him?
Still crawling, Splinter slowly began to circle, eyes locked.
You fool, get up! Draxum tried to chastise himself. Here he was, sitting on his tail while a feral rat was preparing to strike. The warrior managed to jump to his hooves just in time to dodge another attack by Splinter. Claws scraping against the floor, Splinter stood up.
“Snap out of it, rat!” Draxum yelled. He knew it was foolish to try and reason with his co-parent at the moment, but he was at a loss. As Splinter took another step forward, growling, the yōkai realized–he needed to run.
If only to find something to restrain the rat. Racing towards his room, Splinter swiftly gaining ground, Draxum saw Huginn and Muninn hovering near the boys’ room. The moment they saw the two men, they raced over, speeding past Draxum to grab onto Splinter’s hair, pulling him into the air. The rat thrashed, kicking his legs and waving his hands–but he was restrained– sort of .
Now that Draxum had a moment to breathe, he had to ask, “Are the–are the turtles okay?”
“They’re–in their room!” Huginn gasped.
“Mikey’s crying–” Muninn added, “But otherwise they’re fine.”
Good–then the trio could focus on Splinter. Noticing the goyles were struggling, Draxum realized they needed something to better restrain him. If Draxum could trust his vines–he would use them, however, the lack of mystic use in the last few months rendered him…rusty.
“We need to–” Once again, the warrior was interrupted with another hiss as Splinter broke free from his confinement. Draxum barely managed to put a shielding arm up when the rat latched onto him and bit down.
Were the circumstances different, Draxum would not mind such an action. However, as Splinter dug his teeth deeper into the warrior’s arm, blood gushing, Draxum used his free hand to try and pry the rat’s jowls from his person. Splinter pushed his victim against the wall, digging his claws into Draxum’s skin, and finding a new place to bite–his collarbone.
Long past any conflicting feelings, Draxum gripped Splinter’s face and pushed with all his might. The rat went sliding back, slumping down on the other side of the hallway.
Splinter sat–motionless. The sound of fluttering wings decreased as Draxum felt the gargoyles land. When the rat lifted his head, Draxum prepared himself for another attack.
He, however, was not prepared for the next words to come from the other man’s mouth.
“Sweet Barry–!” He cooed before again leaping onto Draxum–this time instead of attacking, for a hug . “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”
If Draxum thought he was confused, it couldn't hold a candle to his minion’s faces. “I–I–what are you–?” Draxum managed out between the onslaught of kisses to his face. The rapid change in emotion caught Draxum so off guard he could barely bring himself to move.
The goyles landed on the ground, mouths agape. Draxum watched as Splinter’s tail flicked into a vaguely heart-like shape as the mutant squeezed him ever tighter. “Do not just sit there– help me! ” Right as he exclaimed this, he sneezed.
The goyles stepped back. “ Oh no .” Huginn gasped, “Draxum’s sick, too!”
“Of course I am not!” Draxum protested, ignoring the rising temperature (Definitely just the fact that another body was on him–), “I have a very strong immune–” Another–more violent–sneeze.
Just great .
*0*
Titan, did those bites sting . After a few hours of fading in and out of consciousness, the fever between both the men had broken, finally allowing them to assess the damage. Draxum sat at the kitchen table, dressing the wound.
“Barry?” Draxum looked up to see Splinter standing at the entrance of the kitchen, holding two cups. The rat set down the cups–filled with tea–and folded his hands. “I’m sorry.”
Draxum sighed, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Splinter scrunched his face in confusion, “I bit you, dumbass.”
“You were not of sound mind.” Draxum finished wrapping the gauze, taking one of the cups and taking a sip. He wasn’t a huge fan of tea, but it would help.
“ Still . I hurt you–and I could have hurt the boys.” Splinter’s ears flattened as he gripped his fist.
At first, Draxum hesitated, but he set his hand over his co-parent’s. “It will be fine. I will do my best to figure out the root of this problem–after all, I caused it.”
A strained smile reached the other man’s face before he chuckled, relaxing his hand under Draxum’s. “Yeah. Thanks.”