Eventually, we all knew this one would also happen. It was just a matter of time.

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Post DOOM, sequel shot to "Silence" and "No One Likes The Flu."

He felt positively awful.

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, he felt ill. He could hear his alarm clock going off, and he knew that he had to go to work, but he could not seem to muster the energy to even lift his arm up to turn it off. He could not even move without some part of his body aching in protest.

His alarm abruptly cut off, and his room was silent once more. That was a good thing—the beeping sound had been like a hammer that was pounding mercilessly into his skull and at the moment the silence was a welcome reprieve.

He tiredly opened his eyes to try and focus on the clock, blinking rapidly to dispel the blurriness in his vision. It didn't clear, and his vision dipped and spun in sickening waves, making him close his eyes again. He tried again but got the same results, so he gave up instead and pulled the covers back over him.

Sometime later, because his sense of time was horribly off kilter, he felt someone's hand on his shoulder gently shaking him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes again and noticed what appeared to be a face, but his vision was distorted badly and he was barely able to realize who it was.

"You've got what we had, don't you?" asked a familiar voice, a cold hand brushing over his forehead.

He tried to reply, but the scorching pain in his throat wouldn't even allow him to talk, so instead he nodded miserably.

"Do you think you can get out of bed?"

Another nod, followed by a cough, was the best answer he could give.

"I'll be back in a minute," said the owner of the voice, and then the figure in his vision left the room.

With an effort, he made himself get out of the bed and stumble blearily to the closet. It was agony to even try and walk, but he made himself focus on the closet door; he was cold, yes, but if he could just grasp that thought in the back of his mind he would understand why.

He wasn't a morning person to begin with, but that fact was made worse when Raphael got sick.

"'e's WHAT?!"

"Sick, incapacitated, feeling under the weather, ill…I could go on if you want," said Alister flatly, watching Valon sit up in bed. "I think he has what we just got over."

The Australian looked back at Alister, his brown hair even more wild looking than normal. "'ow do you know 'e's sick anyhow?"

"Simple. He didn't come downstairs and I heard his alarm go off ten minutes ago," said Alister curtly. "Besides, I went into his room. He's burning up."

Valon winced. "Poor fella."

"Yes, and the sooner we get him to a doctor the better. If he has the flu, we need to nip it in the bud before it gets worse. Valon, after you get dressed could you please go make sure that Raphael gets to the car all right? I need to call his job and let them know he isn't coming into work."

The teenager nodded, waiting until the redhead had left the room before going to his closet and pulling out a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. He pulled the clothing on, making sure that his customary goggles were in place before he left his room; Valon didn't bother trying to straighten his hair, since it was early morning anyway. He finished dressing, padding out of his room and down the hall to where Raphael's room was. He knocked once on the closed door before he opened it and slipped into the room.

His older friend had gotten fully dressed, but it had apparently used all the energy he had left in him. He currently was lying on his side on the mattress, seemingly dozing, but he definitely looked ill. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face had an unhealthy flush to it.

"Raph?" asked Valon, tentatively poking the blonde man. "Hey, mate, you all righ'?"

One of Raphael's eyes opened blearily, looking up at him. "Not really," he muttered, coughing. "Feel awful."

The blonde man carefully eased himself off of the mattress and got to his feet, swaying unsteadily where he stood before he sank back down on the edge of the bed. "Can't even stand straight," he said hoarsely.

Valon watched the older biker with concern, moving to the bed after a moment's pause. "'ere, chum," he said, offering his hand to Raphael. "Lemme 'elp ya up."

Raphael took the boy's hand and once more rose to his feet. Though he wobbled violently, he was able to stay standing, though it was apparent that the older man would be better off sitting down. Slowly, he began to walk forward, keeping Valon on one side and the wall on the other. Valon kept close to his friend, ready to support him if needed, but otherwise he let the older man walk alone.

They got out to the hallway, where the rest of their progress was observed by Misa. The feline meowed encouragingly, keeping out from underfoot but keeping up with both of the bikers. The stairs were a little tricky to navigate, since Raphael could not seem to keep straight and nearly fell several times, but in the end the two of them made it to the bottom of the stairs without injury.

A tired but amused smile appeared on Raphael's face. "It figures."

Valon looked up at his taller friend. "What does?"

"I don't get sick when you two do, but right after you both get healthy I catch the flu," he said, speaking the first whole sentence that Valon had heard all morning.

"'m sorry, Raph. I got ya sick…" said Valon hesitantly, but Raphael shook his head.

"I thought we established this already. Not your fault. If anything, you and Alister both gave it to me," said Raphael wearily. The blonde said nothing else after that, but he was able to make it out to the car and into the passenger's seat before he closed his eyes tiredly and dozed off.

Alister slipped out the front door, locking it behind him before walking out to the car. He noticed Valon coming around the other side of the vehicle. "Did he get in all right?" he asked, standing near the driver's door.

"Yeah, but 'e's asleep again," said Valon sympathetically. "He looks righ' awful."

"If Raphael has what we did, I wouldn't doubt that."

"Why do you keep sayin' 'if'?"

"Because Raphael gets sick at the drop of a hat. For all we know, he could have a bad cold," said Alister flatly, but his gray eyes flickered as they looked at where Raphael was sitting in the car.

The two bikers got into the vehicle after that, and Alister started up the car, backing out of the driveway. It wasn't until they were halfway to the regional clinic when Alister chuckled quietly. "I just realized something."

"What?" asked Valon, and even Raphael woke up long enough to look at the red-haired man.

"'If one catches it, the rest are soon to follow.' There's some validity behind that statement."