It's about then Raph comes shuffling out of the bathroom, seeing the offerings left for him on the floor like it's some kind of shrine. Mike had a habit of doing that, and it really shouldn't surprise him every time. But it does. The subtle way he takes care of them, without any production and very little expectations in return, will always be baffling after growing up with a Mikey that's so adamant about being the center of everyone's constant attention.

With his head still swimming and pounding thunderously at the sides of his skull, it takes Raph a little extra time to gather everything up with still-shaking hands before heading down the hallway.

On the way to the kitchen he passes by the spectacle unfolding in the living room: Don with his makeshift medicine, and Mike pulling a face that tells everything. He gives it hardly a second look, like if he stared too long he'd be guaranteed to share the same fate, instead of having what measly chance of avoiding swallowing that putrid stuff he does now.

But that fight can wait. After clearing out his system, that sandwich doesn't exactly look appetizing. For now, it's headed for the icebox. Then his butt is headed for the couch, where he doesn't plan on moving for a long, long time.