I'm baaaaaack! Not sure how well I portrayed these two, but I tried. Ive been doing my search, watching various cartoons, and I've found Mikey to be quite the sensitive little angel every now and then. And what can I say, 1) its positively adorable (and I'm a total Coker for those), and 2) well, his name is Michel-angel-o. Its got angel right in it; I had to incorporate that, I just had to! Sue me! ^.^

Disclaimer: I still, unfortunately, don't own TMNT or anything associated with them *sadness*

On with the chapter!

Mikey was not, exactly, in a good mood. First the strange, but undeniably hot, girl had spit up the grape soda that she just had to have all over him. Then she passed out again. And now, to top it all off, her temperature had shot back up.

"Mikey, you're such an idiot!" his brother in purple reprimanded, gently sticking a thermometer in the girl's ear. "I specifically said no carbonation! See?! Look at this!" he shoved the thermometer in his face. "One hundred and four! You'll be lucky if she doesn't need serious medical treatment! What is the matter with you?!" he hurriedly dipped a sponge in a bowl of ice water and wiped her face, his voice turning husky and almost choked. "If her temperature rises anymore… she- she could die, Mikey!"

He gasped, green face turning startlingly pale, becoming a sickly shade of yellow-green, blue eyes very wide. "Wh- What?! But- But Mickie can't… I mean…!"

"Well she wouldn't be like this if you had listened!" he snapped, sounding ultimately stressed. "Can I trust you to keep doing this while I go whip her up some medicine?"

"Y- Yeah, you bet!" he responded shakily, taking the sponge from his brother with trembling hands. "Just- Just hurry, ok?!"

"Yes Mikey, I'll be back in a bit." And the genius swiftly left the room.

The youngest of the turtles gave a shaky exhale and knelt unsteadily beside the bed. Mickie was shivering despite her soaring temperature, bundled up under three blankets, her face red and flushed. He felt tears threaten to rise in his eyes as he carefully dabbed her brow. This was his fault, he realized with a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had done this to her; her life was in danger because of him.

"…Dudette?" his voice was thick as he gently touched her shoulder. "Du- Dudette, please wake up… ya- ya gotta be ok, kay? P- Please… ya gotta be ok. If- If you die, I… I just…" a drop of warm salt water hit her cheek, and his breath hitched. "Please… you- you hafta be ok. If- If you die…"

…

Everything was hazy. It was like someone had wrapped mist around her brain and dissolved half of it. Everything felt hot, stiff, and sticky, and her eyes felt sealed shut. She was under the impression someone had stuffed cotton in her ears; all the sounds were badly muffled and far away sounding. It was as if her senses were off and slowed down; she could feel something on her cheek, but it didn't register in her mind, really register, for several long moments.

She heard a voice, vaguely familiar. It seemed to belong to the cold touch, which was causing her to shiver.

She moaned.

"Nooooo…" her lips barely parted, turning her neck, trapping the sponge between her cheek and the pillow. "Tha's coooooode…"

"Y- You're alive…" the gasp sounding choked up and relieved. "Aw dudette, I- I'm real sorry!"

"Hm…?" she forced one eye open, just in time to register a warm drop of water plipping down on her cheek. "Hey…" she coughed weakly, breathless. "Wha… are- are you… crying?"

"I- It was my fault!" he wailed, bowing his head and looking downright miserable, sniffling. "You- You almost died!"

Everything still felt heavy and sluggish and slow, but that registered quick as lightning in her mind. Suddenly she was glad Lindreanna wasn't here; she would have thrown a hissy fit. "I- I did?" immediately she was breathless, as if her windpipe had been closed off. "Woah..."

"And- And it was my fault!" he repeated, pressing both fists into his eyes. "I- I gave ya pop, and- and then…"

"Wait…?" she consciously had to force her hand to move, but managed to reach out her trembling right hand and grab his wrist. Her skin was burning hot and almost painful to his cold blooded reptilian skin, but he paid the temperature no mind, curious as she tugged his hands away from his face with what little strength she had. His eyes flew up to hers, wide and questioning, fully expecting a reprimanding, or a blow of sorts. "You…" she moistened her dry lips. "You think I almost died cuz you gave me grape soda?"

"Well, y- yeah…" he sniffled. "After ya threw up, Donnie, he- he said yer fever got so bad, you might…"

She blinked, eyes still only coming to their half point, still exhausted. "Oh Mikey…" she pulled both hands away from his face, lying them on her chest, right above her heart. "I'm fine, s- see?" she took a slow, deep breath, and he watched her stomach rise and fall.

She shakily lifted her right hand, trembling with the effort in her exhausted, drained, feverish state, and lay it on his cheek. He stiffened, not during to breathe as she slowly, carefully dragged her thumb under his eye, taking the remaining water with it. "There," a sleepy smile played on her lips, and she let her hand fall, placing it atop his, still resting on her chest. "All better. Don't worry, don't be sad…" she closed her eyes. "Everything's s'okay."

Reminding himself she was still feverish, he reluctantly slid one hand out from under her, leaving the other, retrieving the sponge. As he continued wiping her face, he tried not to blush as her hand, no matter how searing hot with fever, curled around his. The other petted the top of his hand in careful, shaky strokes.

"Mikey?"

"…Yeah dudette?"

"C'mere…" she struggled to sit up, and he carefully helped her, pulling on her smaller hands, his free palm supporting her back and leaning her against the wall. "Kay, now lean."

"Lean?"
"Toward me." Mikayla pretended not to notice as his green cheeks turned greener in a blush. She couldn't help wondering when these hallucinations would wear off. She found herself wondering what this guy really looked like.
"Ok…"
"Closer."
He did as she commanded, still they were inches apart. "This good?" he whispered, voice quivering slightly, nervous.
"Just right." With the last bit of strength she could muster, she put her arms around his neck, leaning closer against him, laying her head on his shoulder. He froze for a just a split second, before, almost on their own accord, his arms wrapped around her as well, easily closing around her back, palms clasping her ribs. He didn't know if he just imagined her lips brushing against his cheek for a split second.

"Mickie, wha…?"

"Thank you…" she whispered in his ear, voice becoming weaker and sleepy. "Th- Thank you, Michelangelo… thank you so much."

"For… for what?" her body was rapidly relaxing against him.

"For caring about me," she said simply. "Most guys wouldn't cry cuz the love a' their life died, cuz it ain't 'manly'. You barely know me… and, thank you."

He blinked, eyes flitting to the right, though he couldn't see her the way they were embraced. "Um, you… yer welcome, dudette."

She snuggled against, rubbing her cheek against his. His breath caught just as she yawned softly. Her breath smelled like grapes and smarties candies; an odd combination, but he liked it. He felt her arms loosen, and helped her lay down. She gladly snuggled down into the blankets, yawning again.

She beamed up at him with sleepy emerald green eyes. "Lay with me?" she invited, patting the space beside her. "Please?"

He took the chance with little hesitation, gladly lying down beside her. He watched as her eyes closed, her breathing evened out, and dared reach out a hand and laying it on her cheek. Still hot, still feverish. Retrieving the sponge a third time, he continued gently wiping her face, his own face still holding a green-tinted blush. Yeah, he liked this Mickie girl. A lot.

Ha! How's that for adorable fluff! Anyone? Anyone? Review and I shall give you candy and a possible one-free-spoiler pass valid until the story ends! ;)