Author's Note: Definitely excited for the faves, follows and reviews! As anyone who read Therapy knows, I'm a total dork and I live to update. So here's a speedy one for you.

Sidenote: If anyone would love to make my day and submit any Therapy or Penance Fanart, please let me know! I would love to have something to use as a cover for either of my TMNT stories.


The lab swayed like the deck of a ship on high seas.

I'm dead, Donnie thought with a flash of blinding fear. I have died and for some reason, my afterlife form is a naked human dude.

He blinked to clear his vision, but when he did, the pain from his head caused him to pitch forward and yelp. He reached up a trembling hand – there was almost certainly blood dripping onto his shoulder – but before he could do anything further, the pounding on the door resumed. This time, it was the heavy hand of Raphael.

"Donnie, what's goin' on in there?"

Dark eyes shifted back to the reflective surface, and Donatello watched as the reflection stood dazedly and leaned heavily on the wall. He couldn't make out many details in the scrambled steel door that served as his mirror, and eventually, he had to look down to convince himself that this was all very, very real.

Human skin. No plastron. He brought his hand up in front of his face and flexed stiff, uncertain fingers.

A sob threatened to overwhelm him. Everything on this – his – body hurt and ached. He dropped the hand and staggered, trying to reach his desk once more. He could hear Mikey and Raph working through the door, probably concerned he was hurt. And he was. Oh, God. It was worse than that. So, so much worse. Donnie fell to his knees and let out a shriek. On his hands and knees, covered in glass and cuts, the full realization hit him like a fist to the chest.

Oh my god, I mutated myself!

The full-scale Donatello freak-out began right then and there. He jumped up, fell, jumped up once more and this time stumbled into his rolling chair. It skidded across the floor with him in it and crashed into a shelf of beakers. With one last glance over his shoulder at the lab door, Donnie rolled on the chair – because why in the hell wouldn't his legs work right – and scooted himself to the back door of his lab, which let into the turtle's sparsely used laundry room. Donnie fell through the doorway and into the tiny dark square, his eyes darting around wildly. He had to get out of here! He couldn't let his brothers see him like this, he just couldn't!

It was only when Donnie began to move towards the back door of the laundry room that he felt a strange, uncomfortable breeze. Something bounced oddly against his thigh. He looked down once more and choked.

"Holy Darwin!" he shrieked, his hands jumping down to tuck himself away between his legs. How in the world do human males deal with this! Donnie scrambled to hide it, protect it, but without his shell, he felt – well, naked, for lack of better word.

Donnie groaned. This was humiliating. Appalling. Mortifying. And there wasn't even anyone around to see it. Yet. If he stayed here, Mikey and Raph would find him and he'd have to explain just what the hell happened, even though he really had no idea. Maybe this was all a bad dream.

Quickly realizing he couldn't walk and keep .. himself .. hidden, Donnie gave up with a growl of frustration. Suddenly, his eyes landed on something – one of Master Splinter's robes! Donnie snatched it off the drying hook and wrapped it around himself. Realizing his bo staff wouldn't sit comfortably under the robe, he abandoned it and tightened the robe as much as he could. It dwarfed him and gaped open at the neck, but it was far better than being left in the nude. Deciding it good enough, Donnie half-ran, half-hobbled out of the back of the laundry room and into the sewer.


This was a bad idea, Donnie decided within just a few minutes of traipsing the sewers. He needed help. He thought back to his brothers and how he would explain himself. How all of this would look to them.

He sped on, away from the lair, and when he reached a ladder to the surface he climbed it all the grace and skill of a bull elephant. It was the most ignoble effort of hand-eye coordination he had ever displayed, and by the time his clumsy footing reached the sewer lid, he barely had the strength to push it aside.

Donnie rolled out into the alley and panted. It was nearly four full minutes before he realized he had landed near a hobo, who was munching a banana peel and staring at him.

"I like yer' robe," the man grunted. Donnie glanced over at him, his brows furrowed. Unable to think of an appropriate response, he gave the man a thumbs up. When he felt strong enough to walk again, he pushed himself up and cautiously stepped towards the street. Some people glanced at him curiously, others ignored him completely, but Donnie paid them no mind. He fell, stumbled and rolled from block to block, unsure of where he was going or just what he planned to do.

Then it appeared, like a beacon sent from the heavens.

"April," Donnie murmured, and with renewed vigor, he moved toward the antique shop and its overhead apartment with as much speed as he could muster. He bounced off nearly every corner and light pole on the way there, but when he arrived, he nearly shouted with joy.

Then, out of sheer habit, he moved away from the front and climbed the fire escape. By the time he reached the top, he was once again on the verge of collapsing. Master Splinter's robe was torn and filthy, but at least it still served its purpose. Donnie came to April's bedroom window and tried to knock, but his hand ended up dragging down the glass like a wounded animal.

So.. exhausted... Body.. destroyed...

He tried again to knock, but his body pitched forward and, as gracelessly as he had managed to do nearly everything else in the last twenty minutes, he fell into April's bedroom with a thud. "Ow," he whimpered. The bedroom was dark – maybe April was already asleep, it was well past ten pm - and Donnie thought to himself that he may as well lie there until he had the strength to get up.

But of course, April O'Neil had other ideas.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, you creepy pervert?" the redhead exclaimed from the side.

Donnie's eyes widened and he fought to stand, but it was no use. "No, no, it's not what you think -"

"You just busted through my window and landed in my room!" April shouted, menacing as anyone could be in heart-laden pajamas. D

onnie scooted back on the floor and tried to hold up one hand. "It's not like that -"

Clink. April's metal fan appeared in her fingers and she advanced on him menacingly. "You're going to wish I'd called the police when I'm done with you, you weird-o peeping tom!"

"April, don't! Don't! It's -"

"Yah!" April tackled him with a vicious yell and pulled back her fan to strike.

Donnie slammed back against the floor and tossed up his hands in an effort to shield himself, his eyes squinted and his head turned away. "Don't, it's me! It's Donnie! APRIL, IT'S ME DONNIE!" The fan froze. April's brows furrowed. "Donnie who?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Who do you think?" he shrieked.

In a flash, April jumped off him and scrambled back, her blue eyes narrowed. She kept her fan in her hand, poised and glinting threateningly. Donnie exhaled sharply and rolled onto his side with a pained moan. He pushed at his legs and, with a great deal of effort, managed to use April's nearby desk to pull himself to a stand. He leaned on it heavily.

"This... What? This is some kind of Kraang trick," April growled.

Donnie swallowed tightly and shook his head at her, his fingers tight on the desk and his hip bearing down on it. "No..." he murmured, his expression crumbling. "It's not. It's really me." He dropped his head briefly, and the humiliation he'd felt in the lab came back to him in full force. A deep breath steadied him just a bit, his eyes lifting to hers once more. The only lighting in the room was a small lamp next to April's bed, and he shifted towards it, out of the shadows.

April's lips parted, his expression still wary and uncertain as Donnie maneuvered into view.

When his eyes met hers, something in April's gaze shifted. He saw her glance down, first at the robe and then back up to his neck. Carefully, she stepped forward, her fan dropping down to the desk. Donnie watched, perplexed until he caught her eyes moving again. She was looking at something around his neck. Slowly, her fingers drifted up and touched the purple mask that lay loose against his collarbone. Donnie kept silent as April gingerly lifted it and moved the fabric over his ears and into his hair. When April met his eyes again, now framed in purple, she jumped away with a gasp and pressed a hand to her mouth.

"It really is you," she whispered.


April O'Neil had been through a great many shocks in her young life.

Now, she was beginning to wonder if the day would ever come when she stopped being so surprised by them. Obviously, today was not that day. Because standing in front of her, frowning and injured, was the human version of her best friend. Who had, for the last sixteen years, been a turtle.

She wanted to study him, to seek out the real dimensions of this strange young man with Donnie's voice and eyes, but she could see the poor guy was ready to collapse and this wasn't the time for her scrutiny. This was Donnie, she told herself firmly. And he needed her help.

Even if she was totally freaking out. "What happened?" the startled question left her, and she cursed herself. He was in no condition to be explaining anything to her right now.

The human – Donnie – sighed softly and shook his head once more. "I was... I was working with the retro-mutagen and it exploded," he looked away from her, eyes falling on the carpet. "I don't know exactly what happened, but when I woke up, I was like..." he twisted a hand in front of his face. " … this." He sounded miserable. April stepped forward and touched his hand gently.

"Okay, well, that's all I need to know for right now. Come here," she drew up her computer chair for him and Donnie all but fell into it, his head dropping to his chest. April raised a hand to his face, her fingers jumping curiously at the intimate contact with what felt like a total stranger.

"Why are you so bruised up?" she asked, dragging the little lamp closer to inspect his wounds. He was cut and marked all over. The gaping neckline of the robe displayed a dozen or more angry red marks.

Donnie grunted. "Body doesn't work right. I think I hit every solid object between here and Fifth Street." He rolled a shoulder and winced. "Seriously, I was like Donnie – The Pinball – Hamato."

April offered him a small smile and moved away. "I'll go get a First Aid kit. Then you can rest, okay?"

Donnie nodded and April hurried into the bathroom, glad that her father and aunt – both of whom she lived with now – slept like the dead. She fished around for the kit and came back to her room, pausing in the doorway. She couldn't help it. She had to allow herself this teeny moment to observe him.

Donnie sat in the computer chair, his body all but melted against it. His fingers clenched and loosened absently on the chair arms, twitching ever so often. His gaze was distant, staring at a window and his lips were pursed in a frown. The robe covered much of his legs and stomach, but from what she could tell – and the robe gave a decent view of his upper torso – he was built almost identically to his turtle self: tall, lean and fit. His voice was much the same and his eyes, although the shape had changed, were the exact shade as before. Perhaps the most curious change was his hair – jet black, unruly and just long enough to reach his ears.

As April watched, Donnie winced and reached up a hand to touch his head. When his fingers brushed the thick black hair, he jerked back in alarm. April's heart broke at his bewildered and uncertain expression. He looked close to tears.

She decided in that moment that she wouldn't allow him to be upset or afraid anymore, and she bounced into the room with a gentle smile. "Hey you," she said, drawing his pained gaze up to her. She sat on the edge of her bed and reached forward, tugging the rolling chair closer. Their knees brushed, and she shifted her own so that she could lean close to him.

"Just let me clean up some of these cuts. I think they may still have glass in them," she said, hoping her quiet voice would soothe him. It seemed to work – or maybe he was just finally succumbing to exhaustion – because he relaxed just a bit. April dabbed at the cuts with a cloth, putting some disinfectant on a few and soothing creams on others. She pulled out a pair of small tweezers and warned him softly before plucking out a few pieces of glass. He barely winced, sometimes not even watching, but instead turning his head away and staring up at the ceiling.

"So..." April didn't miss Donnie's wince when she spoke. "... Your brothers..?"

"They don't know," he replied tiredly, his eyes on April's bedspread. "I heard them at the door, but... I ran away. I didn't want to face them."

April frowned and set aside her tweezers. "Why not?"

Donnie sighed and looked back at her. "Because what could they say? What could they do? How could I even begin to explain this to them?"

April huffed. "Well, I don't know, Donnie. But you're going to have to tell them."

"I know," he admitted woefully. His fingers curled in the lap of his robe. "I just – I couldn't deal with it right then. I don't know why. I just couldn't."

April chewed on her lip and put her kit away. He was well enough for now. "I guess that's understandable." She paused and then said in her gentlest voice, "You look exhausted, Donnie. You need to rest." She pulled away from him and stood. "Here, I'll text the guys and say you're just hanging out with me tonight. We'll go to the lair in the morning and you can get everything in order before the guys wake up. Then you can tell them."

She began to type out a text, but Donnie's yelp stopped her.

"You're going to tell them I'm staying here all night? Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with alarm. "They'll tell Master Splinter!"

April raised a brow. "Isn't that the point? You guys always stay out all night."

"Uh, no." Donnie shifted in the chair. "We stay out all night, yeah, but you don't. Everyone knows you're supposed to be asleep right now. And if Master Splinter thinks I'm here, in your bedroom, all night, he is going to bust through that wall - " he pointed, " - like the Kool-Aid man and cane me to death right in front of you." He tossed up his arms. "You weren't there when he gave us the puberty talk, April! Respect For Women is right up there with honor and chopstick etiquette, okay? It's serious."

April bit back an amused grin. "Okay, I'll just tell the guys to cover for you, then! Let them draw their own dumb conclusions. We'll set the story straight tomorrow." She quickly typed out the text and hit Send before Donnie could protest further.

Eugh. As if his anxiety about tomorrow could have possibly gotten any. damn. worse.


They'd battled it out about the bed – April had insisted he take it, given his state of exhaustion, and he had flat out refused – but Donnie had eventually won. And that was how he woke up the next morning, tucked inside a sleeping bag on the floor right next to April's bed. One eye squinted open.

Oh, sewer apples.

This was real. Oh, this was so real and he was going to be in so much trouble for about a thousand and two different reasons. Donnie shifted, his body protesting loudly until he could look up at April's slowly revolving ceiling fan. Well, he couldn't lie. He'd pictured waking up in April's room plenty of times in his head, but never had it involved him stuffed into a sleeping bag on the floor, his body all messed up and his chest heavy with anxiety.

Lying on his back was weird, too.

Now that his mind had cleared and some of the panic had receded, Donnie took his time evaluating his situation. Okay, so this was the result of the retro-mutagen, which had blown to pieces right in front of his face when he'd added that ingredient. That much he understood. What he didn't understand was – well, anything else. Why it had reacted that way. Why it had made him look like this. What exactly it had done to his DNA. He had to get back to the lab to look. He couldn't let this state linger. He had things to do, for Newton's sake! This was a major, major setback. He was on a tough timetable as it was. Now he had to deal with this before he could even begin to think of how to change back Karai and the victims of New York City.

Donnie let his mind wander.

If he said he'd never imagined himself as a human, that would be a lie. He had, on several quiet, shameful occasions, wondered what it would be like. What he could be like. How he would feel or the things he would do. He could go to a university! Buy a home! Start a family! Win a Nobel price!

But never as he was. Never as a turtle. And even though he'd daydreamed about it often enough, he had never considered it a real possibility. And now that this had happened, no part of him celebrated. There was no sense of elation. There was dread, fear, guilt at taking up more time that could be devoted to finding the real retro-mutagen. He knew that what he had done could not help Karai. What he had done had been a mistake, and he didn't care to think about explaining it any further than he already had.

He would have to, though, he realized with a sinking feeling. Eventually.

A shuffling noise sounded outside April's door and he picked up on the voice of Kirby O'Neil. He squeaked and sat up quickly, batting at April's side in her bed. "April! Your dad!" he whispered, dropping back down into the sleeping bag as the redhead quickly jumped out of bed and gasped. "Hurry, hide!"

"What, why?" he hissed.

"Because I don't want to explain some dude sleeping in my room!" she whispered harshly. Donnie let out a muffled yell as April dropped to her knees and mummified him into the sleeping bag, rolling him right under her bed. He came to a burrito-like stop right as April's bedroom door opened.

"Oh, hey dad!"

"Hey sweetie," Kirby paused, as if his Dad instincts were sounding off somewhere in his head. "Your Aunt and I are going to go get some breakfast. You want to come?"

"Oh, nah.. I'm not that hungry. You two go on without me," April tipped back and forth on the heels of her feet. Donnie rolled his eyes. Why was she such a bad liar? Geez. Still, Kirby bought it – and maybe that's why, Donnie thought wryly - and left her alone. He heard April exhale before she kneeled down again and tugged him out from under the bed.

"Thanks for the warning," he groused, rubbing his head and disentangling himself from the bag with a grunt.

April rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, it was a panic move!" She offered him a hand and he took it, pulling himself into a standing position that was only a little steadier than the day before. His legs felt like jelly. April stepped aside and glanced out of the window. "Okay, they're gone." She tapped her chin. "You should take a shower and change into some better clothes. I think I have something you can wear."

Donnie made a face. "I'm not wearing your clothes," he muttered.

"I'm not giving you my clothes," April shot him an annoyed look. "My older cousin has some clothes here you can wear." A towel hit his chest. "I'll find the clothes, go take a shower." Donnie grimaced and then stumbled away, eventually finding a nice, steady gait. April paused near the door with him. "Don't forget to wash your hair," she tapped his temple. "Use the shampoo. It's in the blue bottle."

"I can still read," Donnie dead-panned.

April thumped his arm and he yelped.

"Ow!"

"Now go!"

"Alright, alright..."

A few minutes later, Donnie stepped into the shower and the warm water hit him like a lightning bolt. He screeched and nearly fell over – as if he needed one more embarrassing experience to remember all of this by – but he managed to stay in the stall. A few adjustments to the temperature and he slowly relaxed. Pouring liquid soap over his hands and sniffing curiously at it, he began to rub down his strange body. "It's so.. squishy," Donnie murmured, poking himself in the stomach. He peered down at his legs and made a face at the hair there. Not much, but still. Weird.

He didn't have much other body hair to speak of, which was a blessing, considering he had no idea how to shave any of it. Still, washing all the hair on his head was a hassle if he'd ever had one. What an insane thing to have to deal with, he thought with a hint of annoyance. He'd always thought April's fiery red hair was the most beautiful thing ever. Now he understood what she kept it in a ponytail most of the time. He tried to fist his back into a ponytail, but it wasn't long enough. When it was nice and damp, he shoved it back from his face and let it stick up in every different direction.

When he realized that the shampoo made it stand straight-up in a mohawk, he found himself occupied until the water ran cold.

"Donnie?" April was at the door.

"I'm – I'm here!" he jumped beneath the spray again, his hands rushing the soap out of his hair under a wave of freezing water. The water turned off with a gurgle and Donnie stepped out into his towel.

"Your clothes are just outside the door," April called out to him. Her footsteps led her away, but Donnie still waited a few minutes before sneaking a hand out of the door and snatching the fabric there.

Inside the bathroom, he carefully looked over the clothing. April had been thoughtful enough to find him track-pants (no buttoning required), which he appreciated. They were just a bit too long, but nothing he couldn't deal with. He realized belatedly that he'd put on the pants before the underwear, though, which made him snort in annoyance before taking the damn things off again. His pads and hand-wraps had fallen away and now dangled at his wrists and ankles, and so he discarded them. No use in trying to adjust them right now. Finally settled, he reached for the simple gray t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

"There," he muttered, satisfied. Mission accomplished.


April had just finished dressing herself when Donnie reappeared, his hair wet and skin still warm from the shower. Her lips quirked, particularly when he offered her a lopsided smile that was so painfully familiar. His expressions hadn't changed at all, and April found herself wildly grateful for it.

"Everything work out?"

"Yeah, I think so." Donnie frowned and his hand tugged at the front of the shirt. "Something's itching me." He peeked inside of it and lifted the tag.

April giggled. "That goes in the back," she said. A flush jumped up her neck and into her cheeks when Donnie reached over his head, yanking the shirt off to turn it around.

Oh my god, April thought in a borderline hysterical voice. She barely contained a squeak as she turned away. Donnie was plenty muscled as a turtle, but most of it was hidden by his shell and plastron. As a human? Not so much. And what was even worse, he seemed totally oblivious. He pulled the shirt back on after a tussle with the armholes, and April only turned around again when it was firmly in place. She cleared her throat a bit.

"Better?"

"Uh, not really." Donnie frowned and swatted at the back of his shirt. "I don't like clothes."

"Well, too bad." April silently rejoiced in her now normal speaking voice. "You have to wear them. And shoes." Donnie groaned loudly and dragged his hands down his face. He kept his fingers lined up in pairs, April noticed with a keen interest. As if he only had three. Fascinating.

"Can't I just go barefoot? I did on the way here."

"No way, that's gross." April tossed him a pair of sneakers. Donnie dropped back heavily onto the bed and fumbled with the socks, yanking them on with no small amount of grumbling. However, when it came to the shoes, he paused. "Do you... know how to tie shoes?" April asked curiously.

Donnie flushed. "Well, yeah... It's just -" he held up his hands. His fingers still moved in uncoordinated, jerky movements. "My hands don't work right," his tone dropped and the miserly look from last night crossed his features once more. "Man, April... how am I going to work like this?"

April frowned and crossed the room, slipping into a low crouch in front of him. She touched a hand to his knee. "You will. And I'll help you. We'll figure this out, Donnie." She flashed him a soft, hopeful smile. He returned it mildly, his eyes moving about apprehensively. April squeezed his knee and stood, reaching over for the shoe. With steady, helpful motions, she guided his fingers through the tying and then let him try the other by himself. When he completed it, Donnie allowed himself a real smile.

"One small step..." he murmured with a shrug, his lips quirked.

April smiled, "That's the spirit."


When Donnie stepped out onto April's street, he flinched.

It was a combination of things. The bright sunlight, so unlike the dusky orange he was used to glimpsing. The parade of people moving up and down the sidewalks in heavy droves. The racket from the daytime traffic, the calls of the newspaper boys and sandwich-board guys. He stared incredulously, unable to process the very notion that he was outside and … no one cared.

People side-stepped him. Children babbled as they walked by, paying him no mind. No one screamed. No one ran. No one did... anything.

Donnie glanced up at April's touch to his shoulder and he knew, from her smile, that she understood his amazement. Her hand slipped around his upper-arm and tugged on it gently. "Come on. We'll take our time walking to the lair... it's nice out." Donnie smiled just a bit and lifted his eyes to the street, drinking in the sights as they walked, arm in arm. Occasionally, he reached out and brushed his fingers over something – a sign, a mailbox, a park bench.

When he saw April shoot him an inquisitive glance, he explained to her that things felt different under his fingers. The textures were strange.

His stomach rumbled. "You want some breakfast?" April asked, moving him over to a street vendor. Donnie watched, stunned, as the vendor gave the two of them a happy smile and gestured to his wares. He tentatively reached out and pointed to a bagel, which was promptly wrapped up and handed to him. April got one too, and then they were off again, each munching on their foods.

"This is crazy," Donnie whispered. April's grip on his arm tightened and her other arm reached up to pat him.

"Just enjoy your bagel, D."


Author's Note: Enjoy the fluff while you can, guys. It will get dark around here in due time...