"Ohhhhhhhhh . . ."

Michelangelo lay sprawled across his bed, his breathing both raspy and burbly. His pillow was crusted with snot and drool, and there was a pile of used tissues at the foot of his bed. "Uhhhhhhhhhhh . . ."

"Oh, stop it, you big baby," Raphael growled.

"Raph!" Leonardo chided him.

"Well, the way he's carrying on, you'd think he was dying or something! It's only a little cold, brat! You've been worse."

"Yeah," Mikey gasped, "but I was out cold and didn't feel it."

"You'll feel better if you rest," said Donatello. "Did you take your medicine?"

"Uh . . ." Mikey shrank back into the bed. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to! Be glad you only have to take pills instead of choking down that liquid stuff that Master Splinter used to make us take. Can you sit up?"

"Don't wanna."

"Oh, for-" Raph slipped an arm under his brother and hauled him up to a sitting position. "Now take your medicine and stop acting like a toddler!"

Mikey gave him the big, sad eyes.

"Don't do that!"

Donnie shook two tablets out of the bottle. "Here you go, Mikey. Don't forget the water. Take it slowly, now. You know what happens when you gulp it down."

"Yeah, I'm not cleaning that up," said Raph.

Mikey snorted. "We clean up yours."

"Will you just take the stupid medicine already?"

"Okay, okay, fine." Mikey dropped both tablets onto his tongue and sipped a little water, swallowing them down. "There. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"Okay, we're going out on patrol," said Leo. "We'll keep our T-Phones on; call if there's a problem."

"Uh huh."

Raph started to follow them out the door, when Leo turned back. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out on patrol, like you said."

"Oh, no. You have to stay and watch Mikey."

"What? Why me?"

"Because I said so. And while Master Splinter's in Japan, I'm in charge."

"Oh, man! I hate taking care of him!"

"I can hear you, you know," Mikey called, but no one paid attention.

"Just let him sleep," said Donnie. "The medicine should knock him out pretty soon. Keep him comfortable and just check on him every now and then. We probably won't be long, anyway."

Raph could see he wasn't going to win this, but he made one last appeal. "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Leo gave him a look. "Good night, Raph."

"Uuuuuugh!" Raph sighed, but they were already gone. He was stuck now, taking care of a little brother who turned into a whining mess when he was sick . . .

"Raphieeee?"

"And here we go," Raph muttered, and went to see what the patient needed. "Yeah, what?"

Mikey snuffled back mucus like a vacuum cleaner.

"Hey, hey, don't do that. Where are the tissues?"

"They're all gone."

"What? I gave you a full box this morning!"

"Yeah, well, they're gone now."

"All right, let me see if I can find some more. Do not move till I get back."

There weren't any in the living room; that was the box he had brought in to Mikey that morning. He checked the other bedrooms, but found nothing. Finally, he turned up half a box in the bathroom. He brought it in and tossed it onto the bed. "There."

Mikey held out his arms, but came up short. "I can't reach them."

"You're not trying."

"You said not to move."

"I meant-aargghh!" He snatched up the box and dropped it right beside his brother's left arm. "There. Happy?"

"I guess." He blew his nose with a sound like coffee percolating. "Ugh, gross." He wadded up the used tissue and held it out to Raph.

"Don't give that thing to me! Where's your trash can?"

"I don't know."

"I don't believe this . . ." Raph poked around on the floor, wading through old pizza boxes, comics, and various other bits of trash before his hands encountered hard plastic smoothness. "Here it is."

He brought it over and parked it beside the bed, within reach. "There, now use it."

"Okay." Mikey yawned, a crackling sound in the back of his throat. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, it's the medicine starting to work. You go to sleep, okay? I'll be out in the living room watching TV."

"Okay." Mikey settled back and closed his eyes.

Maybe this would be easy after all. Raph tiptoed out, and had just made it out the door when all of a sudden . . ."

"Raaaaphieeee?"

Great. He did an about-face and went back to his brother's bedside. "What is it, Mikey? You've got water here. You've got your tissues over here, and the waste basket down here. What else do you need?"

Mikey stared up at him with those big blue eyes. "I want Dolly."

"You want what?"

"Dolly. She's in the blue bin under the bed. Pleeeeeeease, Raphie?"

"You are such a four-year-old." Raph bent down and reached under the bed. The first time, he found a red bin, which was empty. The second time, a green bin, which had some Pokemon cards and gumball machine prizes rattling around inside. The third time was the charm: a blue bin full of soft stuff, and Dolly was right on top.

Raph took her out and looked at her. She had once been a child's Barbie doll, but somehow she'd ended up down in the sewers, where Master Splinter had found her, brought her home, restyled her hair into a bouffant, and made new clothes for her. Mikey had named her Dolly not because she was one, but because if you squinted, out of the corner of your eye, she kind of looked like Dolly Parton. It helped to have as much imagination as Mikey did.

"There you go," he said, and handed her over. Mikey hugged her to his blanket-covered chest.

"Thanks, Raph." He really sounded sleepy now. Good. He'd go to sleep, and Raph could catch the end of Red Hot Bike Shop.

But he'd barely made it across the threshold when . . .

"Raphieee . . ."

Sigh. "What now, Mikey?"

Mikey held up Dolly. "Dolly wants to hang out with her bestie."

"Her bestie?"

"Bear-bear."

Raph sighed again. "I haven't seen Bear-bear in years! I don't even know where that thing is!"

"Top shelf of your closet, on the left. Please, Raphie? Dolly wants her bear buddy."

"Oh, Dolly does, huh?"

Mikey gave him the sad eyes again.

"Fine! I'll go get Bear-bear."

The things I do for that kid, he thought as he went to retrieve the bear. How come Don and Leo get to go out on the streets and I get stuck on brat patrol? It's just not fair!

Bear-bear was just where Mikey had said it was, on the closet shelf. Raph reached up and brought it down, staring into the little pointed face with its imperfectly stitched nose and glassy eyes.

He hadn't taken Bear-bear out since he was . . . what, six? Seven? It had been a while, anyway. It wasn't as if he'd decided to put the bear away; he'd just sort of . . . forgotten about it. Maybe that was what growing up was all about.

He stormed back into Mikey's room and tossed the bear onto the bed. "Bear bestie reporting for duty. Okay? Now will you go to sleep?"

"In a minute. I just need one more thing."

No. Oh, no. Please, no! "What's that, Mikey?"

Mikey coughed a couple of times (and they were weak-sounding coughs, nothing to worry about at all) and then said, "Dolly wants you to sing for her."

"What? No! No, Mikey, no singing, not ever! I won't do it!"

Mikey looked up at him with those big sad eyes and whimpered slightly. His lower lip started quivering.

"I said no!"

"Quiet night out there," Donnie observed, from his vantage point on the rooftop of a tall insurance building.

"Yeah, not much going on." Leo was perched on a nearby billboard, looking down at the nearly empty streets. "Let's head back. I think Mikey and Raph have had enough of each other by now."

"I'm sure they're fine," said Donnie. "Those pills would put an elephant to sleep. Raph's probably as bored as we are."

They made their way back to the lair and entered as quietly as possible.

"TV's not on," Leo observed. "Wonder where Raph is?"

"Why are we whispering?" Donnie whispered.

"What?" Leo whispered back.

With ninja stealth, Raph appeared before them, and they both cried out in alarm.

"Ssh!" Raph jerked his head toward Mikey's closed bedroom door. "Dojo," he whispered, his face serious. "Now."

"Sure, bro, what's-?"

Raph impatiently motioned for them to follow. As soon as they had crossed the threshold and were in their practice space, he struck out and caught Leo right in the midsection.

"Oof! Raph, what's-"

"He made me sing!" A high strike, quickly blocked by the more adept brother. "He made me sing Jolene five times! Five! Times!"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" said Donnie. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

Raph swept a leg out and knocked the purple-clad turtle off his feet. "You left me here with him! And all he did was whine and demand stuff! First he wanted tissues. Then the garbage can to throw them in. Then he asked for Dolly."

"Really?" Leo said, from his defensive position a few feet away. "I didn't know he still had Dolly."

"Well, he does. And he wanted Bear-bear too. He'll probably ask for your puppy and bunny, too, when he wakes up. He probably has tea parties with them on the weekends."

"But you gave him what he asked for," said Leo. "Right?"

"He. Made. Me. Sing!"

"But I love it when you sing," came a weak, raspy voice from the doorway.

The other three turtles turned to see Mikey standing there. blanket wrapped around him and Dolly in his arms.

Raph moved to him instantly. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I had to go pee."

"Did you go?"

"Uh huh."

"Did you wash your hands?"

"Yeeeahhh . . ."

"Okay, c'mon. Let's get you back to bed. Sorry, guys. I'll be right back."

Instead of waiting, the other two turtles followed him into Mikey's room, where the older brother turned back the covers and helped Mikey lie down.

"Just a second," he said, and grabbed the pillow, stripped the crusty cover, and slipped it into a fresh one. "There you go. All nice and clean. You've got Dolly?"

"Uh huh," Mikey murmured, his eyes beginning to close.

"You've got Bear-bear?"

"Yeah, dude."

"You want Ruff and Usagi, too? I know you know where they are."

"Nah. It's okay. Maybe next time."

"There's not gonna be a next time," Raph grumbled, but Mikey was already well on his way to sleep. He sighed and left the room, trailed by his brothers.

"Sorry about before," he said, as the three of them parked themselves on the sofa. "I was just-"

"Working off frustration?" Leo finished for him. "I get it."

"He's just so whiny!"

"At least he lies still and behaves," said Donnie. "Unlike some people."

Raph glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Last time you had the flu, I had to hogtie you to the bed to keep you from wandering off in search of the . . . what was it? Oh, yeah: the King of the Gopher People."

"You're making that up!"

"He's not, dude," said Leo. "I was there."

"I don't remember that at all!"

"Because you were delirious and couldn't even remember your own name. A little singing is a cake walk compared to having to wrangle you back into bed."

"Five times, Leo."

The other two turtles just looked at him.

"He knows I hate singing! Not crazy about the song, either."

"What?" said Donnie. "It's a classic!"

Leo put his hand over Raph's. "You know why I left you in charge of him tonight?"

"Cause I did something wrong and you're punishing me?"

"Because you could do the job we couldn't. Donnie and I don't have the patience to deal with sick Mikey. You do. You don't think you do, but do you really think either of us would have sung Jolene for him five times?"

"My singing would probably have killed him," Donnie quipped.

Raphael thought about it. As much as he hated having to wait on his sick, whiny younger brother, the fact was that he wouldn't have trusted anyone else with the job. "I guess you're right," he said. "There's just one question left to ask."

"What's that?"

"When he passes this thing on to me-and you know it's gonna happen-which one of you gets to take care of me?"

"Uh . . ." Leo and Donnie looked at each other, at a loss for words.

Raph chuckled. "I'm just kiddin'. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Now who wants to split the leftover pizza and watch Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster?"

One week later . . .

"Heh , , , heh . . . heh-CHOOOOO!" Raphael sniffled and reached for the tissue box. He groped around inside, but the box was empty.

"Aw, man . . ."

"Heeeey, Raphie!"

"Oh, great," he muttered. "Hi, Mikey."

"I brought you some stu-uff!" he sing-songed. "A fresh box of tissues. A cup of Master Splinter's famous cure-all tea."

"He's still not back yet, is he?"

"Nope. He can't exactly get on a plane, so he's hiding out in the hold of a cargo ship."

"Lucky."

"Some of my patented pizza soup!" A clink as he set it on the bedside table.

"Yeah, I'm not really hungry right now-"

"Empty trash can, clean pillowcase . . . and some company!" He tossed several small objects onto the bed. "Bear-bear and Dolly have come to help take care of you! And Ruff and Usagi have joined the party!" Thump, thump.

"You checked with Donnie and Leo, I hope."

"Yeah, they're fine with it. Oh, and one more super-special surprise!" Mikey turned around, and in his hand was an oversized silver microphone with MR. KARAOKE in stylized purple writing down the side.

"Oh, no," Raph groaned.

"And IIIIIIIIIIII . . . will aaaaalways looove yoooooooooooou!"

Raph shrank back into the bed, trying to bury himself in the covers. "Where's the Gopher King when you need him?"