A/N: Inspired by my own bout with sickness this week (though thankfully not nearly this serious). Still trying to get a feel for writing these guys - I'm a 2k3 fan forever. Fills one of the prompts, "Winter," in my writing challenge on my Tumblr (link is in my profile). Not mine.

-o-

In Sickness

It starts with a cough.

Living in a dank and often chilly sewer - especially now, in wintertime - means it's never just a cough. The Hamato clan fortunately have pretty strong immune systems, but it means that when they get sick, they go down hard.

Mikey knows this. He also knows he lives with Doctor Donatello, Overly Anxious Leonardo, and Worrywart Raphael, and if he takes even so much as a single cough drop in their presence, they'll be bundling him up in blankets and forcing him to stay on the couch for days.

And Mikey has plans today, plans that involve tearing up a newly discovered section of sewer that will work perfectly as a skate park, so that can't happen.

Get bronchitis one time, have paranoid older brothers for life, he thinks, grabbing his board and heading for the door, working hard to suppress the cough that's trying to force its way out of his throat. He can cough once he makes it out to the sewers.

He's four steps from the door when his T-Phone goes off; he hears his brothers' phones go off, too, which means it has to be April; she's the only one that texts them all when they're at home.

"Guys, April's spotted some Kraang activity!" Don calls, running out of his lab. "Looks like they're trying to break into another lab."

"It's like 40 degrees up there," Raph gripes, but there's no mistaking the excited gleam in his eyes - he's been antsy for days, itching for another fight.

"Well, then, we'll just have to make it quick," Leo replies. "We don't need any of us getting sick this year."

And of course, that's when the cough Mikey's been trying to keep trapped finally forces its way through. It catches him off guard, and he hacks for a good fifteen seconds before he's able to get his breath back. He freezes when he sees the looks on his brothers' faces and immediately gives a second, louder, completely fake cough.

"Oh darn - guess I'll just have to stay here," he says with a sigh, heaving his shoulders theatrically and sniffing dramatically.

The deflection works; the tension eases out of Leo and Don's shoulders and Raph rolls his eyes. "And then sneak out to go skating while we do all the heavy lifting? Think again, numbskull," Raph says, yanking on the tails of Mikey's mask. "Let's move, before the Kraang get away!"

-o-

They fight and they win - totally kicking shell in the process, Mikey might add - but not only is it just above freezing temperatures on the surface, but it's also raining, threatening to turn to snow, even, and by the time they're done, all of them are cold, wet, shivering, and more than ready to get back to the lair to warm up.

Mikey's coughing more by the time they get home, but so is everyone else - a natural reaction from exerting themselves so much in the cold and the damp, Don reassures Leo and Master Splinter over dinner - so it goes largely unnoticed.

Mikey thinks wistfully of his plans to go boarding as he buries himself in a nest of blankets on his bed that night, letting out one last cough as he yanks the blankets over his head. Tomorrow will be better, he thinks.

-o-

Mikey awakes, sweaty and disoriented, completely tangled in his blankets, with tremendous cough and a throat so sore he can barely swallow.

He fights his way out of his blanket-nest-turned-prison, falling off his bed and landing in a heap facedown on the floor, which is freezing, setting off another bout of painful coughing when he shivers in reflexive response. Eventually, the coughing stops, but the shivering doesn't, though the cool floor does feel kind of good on his skin.

A peek through bleary eyes at his alarm clock tells him it's not even three in the morning yet, and a few minutes of wheezy breathing doesn't bring anyone to his door. Good, he thinks. Mikey likes attention when he's well, but he hates it when he's sick, mostly because it reminds him that he's sick and thus stuck under the tender mercies of his brothers and his father, much of which involves gross-flavored teas, weird medicines, and strict enforcement of bed rest.

He just needs a few more hours of sleep, he decides as he swallows painfully. Of course, that would involve getting back up into his bed, and he's not sure he's quite ready to move; he's enjoying the fact that he's not coughing at the moment.

Most of his blankets are already halfway off the bed, so he tugs them down on top of him. He just needs a minute to warm up, and then he'll move back into bed-

-o-

The next time he wakes up, there's a rhythmic sound cutting through Mikey's sleepy haze, but it isn't until he hears "Mikey, up and at 'em, bro, you're gonna be late for practice!" that he realizes the sound is Raph beating at his door.

There's a brief, blissful pause in the noise as Raph waits for a response; Mikey's going to give him one, he swears, he just needs another minute to collect himself. His bed is as hard as a rock for some reason.

Then he hears the door opening. "C'mon, Mikey, if we have to do more flips because you're late again, I'm gonna - Mikey?"

It's kind of remarkable how quickly Raph's voice can go from angry to worried, Mikey muses. Then his blankets get pulled away, letting in a blast of cold air, and he remembers that he's on his floor, and then Mikey's not able to think much anymore as another round of coughing starts, setting his throat on fire and robbing him of air.

There's a cool hand on his face, gentle despite the callouses built up over years of training, and Mikey leans into the comforting touch even as Raph swears. "Donnie! Get over here!"

Mikey flinches at the loud shout. "Geeze, Raph, speak up - don't think they heard you over in Jersey," he says, cracking one eye open just in time to see Raph wince at how croaky Mikey's voice is.

"Raph, what's - why is Mikey on the floor, what happened?" And cue Doctor Donatello, Mikey thinks as he starts coughing again, grimacing in disgust at the feel of mucus in his mouth.

"Here, Mikey, spit it out into this," Raph orders, helping Mikey sit up and holding out Mikey's garbage can. "And I found him like this - he's definitely sick," he adds as Don kneels down next to them.

"So I gathered," Don says, voice tight with concern as he puts a hand to Mikey's forehead; Leo's there, too, worry blatant on his face as he hovers just behind Don. "Mikey, how long have you been feeling this way?"

Mikey blinks a couple times as Don probes a couple different areas in his neck. "Didn't feel this bad till this morning, but it started yesterday," he admits, slumping against Raph, who shifts automatically so that Mikey is resting against his side with his head tucked into the crook of Raph's neck. It's actually a pretty comfortable position, and even though Mikey just woke up, he's about ready to fall back asleep again. "You have comfy shoulders, Raphie."

"So that cough was a real one," Leo says as Don sits back with a sigh. "Donnie?"

"Well, it's still fairly early, but I think it's pretty safe to say he's got bronchitis again - or one shell of a cold, in any case," Don replies.

"So what do we do?" Raph demands, arm tightening reflexively around Mikey's shoulders as he coughs again, though it's mercifully short this time.

"Same thing we did last time - make sure he gets lots of rest and fluids, get him to breathe some steam if we can to loosen the junk in his lungs," Don says. "There are some over-the-counter medications that should help - I can call April and see if she can pick some up."

"I'll talk to Sensei - he can make some of that herbal tea," Leo says. "And I'll start getting the couch set up. Raph, you got him?"

"Yeah, just tell me when you guys are ready.".

There's a new hand on Mikey's forehead, and he opens his eyes (when did he close them?) to see Leo looking at him, eyes full of concern and warmth and worry and love. "M'gonna be fine, Leo," Mikey says, trying to make his voice as reassuring as he can when it sounds so croaky.

"Of course you are," Leo huffs, rubbing Mikey's head affectionately. "We're gonna take care of you, and you'll be better in no time."

Mikey hums in agreement - there's no use resisting it now; he's not looking forward to being confined to the lair for the next week, but right now he just wants to sleep - and lets his eyes close when Leo's hand drops away. He hears Don and Leo's footsteps fade away as they run out of the room; a blanket gets draped over him a moment later as Raph shifts slightly at his side, taking even more of Mikey's weight.

"Get some rest, Mikey," Raph says, voice warm and fond beneath the touch of worry overlaying it, as Mikey drifts off again, feeling safe and content and loved, despite how awful this illness makes him feel. "We'll be right here."

End