Disclaimer: Not mine, someone else's.

Title: TMNT: Mafioso.

Rating: T

Pairings: April/Casey…. Cuz they're already together, and now; Mikey/Angel.

Genre: Crime/Family…. It can be considered humor too

Summary: Splinters dead, Michaelangelo is the new leader of the Dragon-Foot clan, Leonardo is a bartender, Raphael is a loan-shark and Donatello's gone rogue turtle. Anything else? Oh, well Casey and April own a nightclub if it means anything….

Day Ninety-three

'I'm getting sick… I'm going to be sick, and my brothers are going to know…' Donatello dreaded; he was coming down with an infection, he could just tell from the signs of elevated temperature, extreme thirst, flashes of fatigue… Lack of sleep, skipping meals and constant sometimes ignored injuries had weakened his immune system and left him vulnerable to infection, an infection that would incredibly easy to get taking into consideration he lived in a sewer filled with infectious diseases.

Since he was in the beginning stages, he wasn't feeling any out of the ordinary pain that his brothers would not brush off. He couldn't let them know he was sick though, they would worry too much, besides El probably would not care and Mikey and Leo were working so he wouldn't want to bother them.

Panting from a sudden hot flash, Doc grabbed a bottle of morphine from his cabinet and filled a syringe with it. Morphine as a pain-killer would rid him of his pain as long as he used it until he got better, and his brothers would never suspect. With a sigh he injected himself with the chemical.

Day Ninety-Four

"Doc open the door!" Renet shouted from the other side of his lab door, but Doc merely ignored her protests. He was lying on his side on a cot and staring at the wall, he felt searing heat behind his eyes but he felt no pain, only a lot of warmth.

"Please, Doc! Open the door!" Renet pleaded but he again ignored her even though she beat the metal door with her slender fists. Her heard her sigh sadly as she left, possibly with her face turned down to the floor in dejection.

Day Ninety-Five

Doc quickly administered a dose of Morphine and again lie on the cot. He wondered briefly why his antibiotics hadn't been working. He found himself always very thirsty and never hungry. His head throbbed, but somehow remained unpainful, but…. Irritating, like being poked.

'I wonder where El's been at…' Doc thought, Renet had insisted on trying to make him leave the lab after he holed himself into it, but he hadn't heard anything from El.

Maybe El was still mad at him, after all he did type some mean stuff on his log…. Oh that's right, he banned El from the Lair for a week for breaking his keyboard.

Doc turned on his shell and stared at the ceiling; it seemed so blurry now, which was odd because he had excellent vision….

Day Ninety-six

His entire body was warm now.

Doc put the syringe in the tray after administering a dose to himself, which he had upped since he was building up an immunity. It was hard to breath, his heart was erratic as if he had just taken a whole bottle of caffeine pills and drowned it with a can of Monster.

Doc sat in the corner of the lab and hugged his knees, shaking. Being on the cot made him feel more warm, and he didn't want to feel any more warm, it was uncomfortable as it was. He unsuccessfully attempted to calm his breathing, but he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs.

Everything he saw was blurry now, but very bright and solid in color too, like a cartoon…

Shaking still, he turned his head and saw the bottle and syringe; did he give himself a dose yet? No, no he didn't think so. He pick it up, filled it with an upped dose of Morphine an injected himself.

Suddenly he felt as if his skin were about to burn off, and his throat felt dry, hot and coarse like sand. He jumped to his feet and ran to the sink in his lab where he turned on the tab and guzzled water down as fast as he could.

He didn't know how long he had been drinking but after what seemed like seconds of trying to cool his throat he arched up and vomited on the ground.

Silly him, he'd forgotten that he was supposed to sip water, can't drink too much at a time or he'd throw it up.

'I need air!' Fresh air was a necessity of life, and it could help him cool down, maybe it would even make the bright green swirls that were now surrounding him go away.

In a mad, crazed dash he threw the lab door open and ran out as fast as his feet could take him, bright colors and patterns were flashing on the normally dismal sewer walls. Even the water made exaggerated bright blue splashes as he zoomed through it.

With his breathing still heavy, he forced himself to climb the ladder to the surface. As the manhole-cover came open he stretched his mouth open and took gulps of fresh night air desperately, as if he had just resurfaced from drowning.

Coming to the surface, Doc stumbled through the alley without bothering to cover the sewer again. Maybe a walk would aid him.

Feeling a light tapping along his skin (since he hadn't worn his snowsuit ever since he had gotten sick) Doc looked up and closed his eyes. Hail? It was hailing? He still felt hot, the hail would cool him down…

Without warning, he collapsed to the ground. He was so tired…. Maybe he would just catch a quick nap, let the rain and hail cool his heated body while he was sleeping, wake up feeling better and go back to the Lair.

"I'm leavin'." Doc suddenly heard; he opened his eyes again and looked up. El? Inddep he was looking up at Raphael…. Who wasn;t in his usually get-up, instead wearing a trench coat and fedora and was…. Black and white? Where did that soft saxophone music in the background come from? "Dis town just weren't ready for me, Shirly." El continued "I tried ta be a good guy for ya, girl. But we can't be togetha', I gotta get outta town with da cops on my shell."

"E…. Excuse me?" Doc asked.

"Goodbye Shirly, I'm sorry I ever met ya." El said, turned around and walking away, one hand in trench-coat pocket, other holding a lit cigarette as he became a shadow and disappeared into the gray of the city.

"I'm not Shirly!" Doc tried shouting, but his voice died as his head fell, again he was unconscious.

He woke up again, but this time to a tap on the head; he opened his eyes again and lo and behold there was Mikey.

Who was dressed like a fat clown. Rubber nose, puffy pants, flower and everything of that manner.

"Hey kid!" Mikey squealed in a high-pitched voice and squeaked his red rubber nose "Do you want to see a trick?" Without waiting for an answer he reached into his mouth and shoved his whole arm in his mouth and down his throat, he them ripped him arm back out and was pulling out a long train of tied-together orange hankerchiefs.

As the hankies fell to the floor they wrapped around him until he became an orange mummy.

"Ugggghhhhaaa" The orange-mummy Mikey groaned as he turned around and put his hands in front of him. "Must stop the riots…." He then climbed into a tiny soapbar-sized sarcophagus which drove away with non-existent wheels.

"Wai…." Doc called weakly before passing out again.

He didn't wake up next so must as just drift foreword and realize there was a cloudy-bottle in front of him.

The top of the bottle popped off and the smoke was released, the smoke curled, materialized and then solidified into a genie…. Or Leonardo, who was dressed just like a genie.

"You have three wishes Doc." Leonardo said, and then he took out a scythe and pointed it to the ground "First wish, a ham sandwich."

Before Doc appeared a plate with a sandwich on it.

"Next wish," Leonardo told him "a blanket."

Doc was suddenly covered by a blanket.

"Third wish, a cup of water." A mug of water was in front of him.

"And finally…." Leonardo looked at him, suddenly his eyes became bright red and his genies clothes turned into full-blown reaper garb with the too-pointy hood on, lightning flashing behind him "a swift beheading on the house!"

As Leonardo drew the scythe back and swung it, Doc screamed.

"NOOOOOO! Don't cut off my head!"

"Doc! Dude, calm down! I'm not gonna cut it off."

Doc opened his eyes and saw Mikey was next to him. He then concluded he was lying on a bed, and Mikey was putting a cold, wet cloth on his forehead.

"I…I…" Doc didn't know what to say.

"You are an idiot." Mikey said and crossed his arms "I found you in the ally, mumbling about Shirly and clowns. Stockman-Stein looked you over, you were overdosing on Morphine! If I hadn't found you when I did and have that shit pumped out of you, you'd be dead!"

Doc flinched.

"You've also got Valley Fever." Mike explained "Luckily it's in a minor stage so Stockman-Stein got it rendered and has you on fluid antibiotics now." Doc looked at himself and realized he was hooked up to an I.V. "Why were you trying to hide that you were sick and in pain?"

"Didn't want…" Doc slurred, feeling sleeping "….worry.." He mumbled before his head fell to the pillow and he fell asleep once more.

Mikey sighed and pressed the cloth against his brothers fire-hot forehead. Why couldn't Doc have just told him? Weren't they still best friends?

Shaking his head, Mike changed the I.V and reminded himself that he had to focus on getting Doc better first.

This may be a random note, but I'm very sad that the Take-5 candybar is not mainstream...