Look, I'm alive! Did anyone miss me? *cricket chirp* aw, ok then… :/

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. If I did… well, my youngest sister would have signed autographs of the voice actors. But I don't. :( Meh. :/

Onto the story!

Combined with trying to shake off their dreadful trip to the Hashi and tending their four guests, needless to say, the brother's were exhausted. Donatello suggested they be watched in shifts, and, oddly enough volunteered to take first watch. At first Leonardo figured that was his little brother's usual 'trying to please everyone' attitude kicking in. He tried to reason with him, advising he perhaps go drink a cup of tea to soothe his still-slightly-sick stomach, and take a nap. However, he was persistent and surprisingly stubborn- something that raised more questions. Usually, the genius was the docile one, that took everything thrown at him without so much as a sigh of protest and always put everyone before himself. He always wanted everyone happy, couldn't stand it if anyone was upset with him. Leo worried for him; he hardly ever got enough sleep. Maybe that was why he was acting strangely; sometimes, if Donatello stayed up for too many consecutive hours, it began messing with his judgment.

He wasn't the type to get angry and irritable when he hadn't gotten proper rest; he got a little… loopy. He remembered the time he'd been up for three days straight, locked away in his lab working on some project or another nonstop with no food or water. All three of them had had to drag him away and tie him down and force feed him warm milk while he babbled mindlessly about this and that until he passed out dead asleep.

But… that wasn't it. He didn't know why he was so sure- probably that big brother intuition he'd trained himself into over the years- but he could tell, delirium from lack of rest wasn't what caused his insistence. Neither was his desire to make everyone happy and comfortable. What was going on?

Currently, he was in his bedroom, and when Leo peeked in, he was gently dabbing the girl's face- who they'd been informed was named Danica- with a wet washcloth. She was smiling a sleepy, dopey smile, and his eyes were blank, as if focusing on a point miles away. He didn't seem very focused, but the girl gave no reaction if he accidentally brushed her eyelids or bumped her lip.

He hesitantly knocked on the doorframe. His younger brother jumped harshly, neck jerking over to look at him. "Donnie?"

"Oh Leo, don't do that!" he whispered loudly, nudging his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, having been knocked loose. "Danica's sleeping!"

"Sleeping- or unconscious?"

"Actually sleeping. I told you, she needs to rest; they're all sick."

"…And her sight?"

He frowned. "I… I'm not sure. I mean, there's no guarantee as to when it'll come back. The next time she wakes up, it could be perfectly fine, for all I know. The poison was some kind of odd concoction I'd never seen before- I've never had the chance to study a living specimen that was infected. Let alone one that is temporarily blind and is completely comfortable to answer questions." He turned back to her the girl, blotting a particularly pink splotch on her cheek, gently rubbing her skin with tender care. "But we have to be extremely cautious; her effects could wear of at any given moment. And the others… who knows?"

His older brother nodded slowly. It was slightly odd to see Donatello so focused; usually his attentions were spread here and there, his intelligent mind whirling and considering various ideas, always calculating, always busy. But here he was, tending this girl's feverish skin with previously unseen focus and intensity; he was thinking of nothing else. Even his words seemed to float, like his mouth and will were disconnected.

"How are the others, anyway?"

"The giggly one? Mikey keeps reading her comics for whatever reason, and I think her fever may be close to breaking. The one in black is still out of it, and the other? She's woken up twice, never opened her eyes though. Never said anything."

He gave a thoughtful hum. "You've kept them hydrated, right?"

"Of course. But the giggly one is adamant she wants grape soda."

He shook his head quickly. "No, that won't agree with her system, not right now. She'd probably throw it up all over the place." Donatello shuddered at the thought the girl perhaps being a projectile vomiter. That would not be pretty. A bit delicate-stomached himself, the mere smell would probably have him loosing anything he'd consumed within the last few days.

He was distracted suddenly by a loud yelp followed by a sickeningly wet choking sound, and their youngest brother's cry of "Aw, gross!" and s couple moments later, "So not cool!"

"…I'm not cleaning that up."

"Yeah, me neither."

…

Mikayla could be honest. But that didn't mean she would be. She totally wasn't aiming for the guy when she tossed her cookies or anything. Normally she loved grape soda, but there was nothing she hated more than being lied to. It made her feel useless and naïve. Her sisters did enough of that. But when they did it, it was ok. Its just what siblings do, she reasoned. But if someone else was trying to fool her, that was not ok. And this guy was pretty obviously a liar, very bad liar. Even though her fever was breaking, the poison, as she'd been informed, was making her hallucinate.

She still had her general sense of consciousness and sanity, but she was seeing strange things. She was fairly certain the doctors on thus hospital were giant green men with strange senses of fashion. The tech one, as she'd dubbed him, as he held the vague scent of machinery and always seemed to have some kind of monitor thing on hand, assured her she was hallucinating. She was delusional with fever.

And there was that other one that refused to introduce himself. He wasn't too bad, and actually kept her entertained, allowing her a few familiar comic books. No matter how much her sisters, Reyna especially, teased her for it, she'd always loved the stories. She loved lots of things, comic books and grape soda especially.

Every time her watcher, who she dubbed in her mind as Dr. GreenSurf for his 'green' skin and California style of speech, came in or out, she asked for a sip of grape soda. Every time he'd deny her, always spouting something about Dr. Tech saying she wasn't supposed to have fizz and something called a 'raf' hitting him over the head if he didn't listen.

"But duuuude…" she protested, shifting around on the bed. "I'm sooo thirsty! And I hate tea!"

"But dudette, Donnie says its good for ya, and stuff."

She crossed her arms, though it was awkward and strained, as the bullet wound was on her lower forearm. "I don't care. You're a sucky doctor; what happened to the patient always being right?"

"I'm not a doctor!" he protested, but there was smile on his face. "I'm just tryna do what I'm supposed to. They'll yell at me if I don't get ya to drink it."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem," she stuck her tongue out at him. "C'mon, pleeeeeaaaaase?"

"I can't give ya fizzy stuff," he insisted. "They said it might make ya blow chunks everywhere."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "I downed an entire six pack of the stuff when I had the stomach flu. I held it down fine! Please?"

"No! Dudette, they'll kill me! And I don't wanna clean up your puke if you lose it."

"I won't lose it!" she promised. "Please? Pretty pretty please?"

"Nah, can't."

She pestered him a bit longer. "But why nooot? I feel fine!"

"No ya don't." suddenly his hand was on her forehead, then grasping her cheeks, turning her face this way and that. He leaned in extra close to stare her in the eye. She blinked. "You still gotta fever and stuff. Donnie said ya can't have none'a the good stuff till yer fever breaks, or whatever."

"Well that's just wrong!" she exclaimed, faking exasperation. "You people kidnap me, poison me, take me away from my sisters, and won't let me have a decent drink!"

"Waaah… no no dudette, ya got it all wrong!" she smirked inwardly. She loved suckering people. "We didn't"

"And how do I know you guys aren't like, creepy kidnappers or perverts or something? I've been out of it for a long time, you said so. How am I supposed to know guys are actually tryin to help. For all I know you guys are gonna make an evil clone of me and have her replace me and kill my mom or something!"

"Woah dudette, that's crazy! We ain't gonna do that, I swear!"

"Prove it!"

"How?!"

"Gimme grape soda, that ain't poisoned! Then I'll believe ya."

"But-"

"Or else I start screaming at the top of my lungs you touched me in a bad place!"

"No don-"

"LINDIIIIIIE-!"

"No!" he clamped a hand over her mouth. "Ok, ya win dudette, ha win! I'll getcha some, chill!"

Giggling like a hyper school girl, she clapped her hands, giving a mocking bow. "I'm glad we can agree."

She was ultimately pleased when he brought her a can of her favorite drink, which she gladly popped open and took a long swig of. "Mm…" she wiped her mouth. "I never get tired of that stuff."

"Sheesh, are you always like this?"

She gave a rather evil, conniving giggle. "Yeee-up." she proclaimed, popping the p. "I get what I want by annoying the snot of people. And makin' empty threats. You wouldn't believe how awesome it works on Ray!"

He couldn't keep from chuckling softly. "Well, yer good at it."

"Well duh. Been training for it fifteen years." More giggles, and she sipped her drink again. "…Thanks, by the way. I'm Mickie."

"Mickie? Isn't that like a dudes name?"

She gave a mock huff. "Well, excuuuse me. 'Mikayla' doesn't suit me. It sounds like a snobby rich girl's name. Mickie's much better."

"If you say so, dudette."

"I do say so," she smiled. "So… what's your name?"

"Mm? Oh, I'm Mikey."

"Well, ok. So, Mikey… that short for anything?"

"Michelangelo."

"That's the guy that painted the church, right? Mom dragged us there last summer, nice place."

"Um… thanks?"

She went to smile, but, however, suddenly, her body gave a violent lurch, and her facial complexion changed to a green that could rival his own. "Aw no…"

Mikayla suddenly could see why they hadn't wanted her to have soda. The whole can come back up in a series of painful coughs, and she spewed anything she'd eaten lily that hadn't yet passed. The taste was far from pleasnt, but there was at least the hilarious satisfaction of her 'host' crying out in disgust.

"Aw, gross! So not cool!"

I'm very mean, aren't I? Sorry if that was gross, but I'm getting some pretty good inspiration from real life right now; my two youngest sisters are pretty sick right now, and the littlest threw up all over our brother at about two o'clock this morning. And yes, I'm fairly sure she aimed for him. I've got no proof, but hey. Man, its hard trying to write all these different characters and keep them genuine. Anyway, remember to please review, for my sisters sake?