A/N: Update number three, yo! I hope you all have fun reading this, because it's a pretty fun chapter! Have fun reading this turkey sandwich!

Disclaimer: Do we even need these?

Chapter Nineteen:

Peace Offerings

{Donnie}

The day was just really weird in general, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find the weirdness continuing late into the night when I go to wake Leo up for some much-needed companionship. I never thought being ignored by Mikey, getting the cold-shoulder from Raph, and…well, whatever Master Splinter is giving us—would get to me this quickly. Maybe it's because there's still shreds of doubt left in my mind, but it's more likely because I'm not used to being the bad guy.

Whatever the reason for whatever I'm feeling, it only gets worse when I crack open my brother's door and find Mikey curled up in a little ball next to him, snoring like a baby.

While it's not unusual for Mikey to sleep in one of our rooms instead of his own like a normal teenager, his reasoning behind it is typically emotion-driven. In short, if one of us is being a jerk to him, the other will have to share a bed. That person has almost always been me.

For a second, I'm torn between waking Leo up and just leaving them alone, but the selfish part of me wins out and I sneak up along the bed, giving his arm a gentle tug.

His eyes flutter open, reflexes kicking in, and I back up quick to avoid getting hit in the face.

"D-Donnie?" he groans, rubbing his very swollen-looking eye. I nod to Mikey's sleeping form and lift a finger to my mouth. He glances over his shoulder as if he didn't realize Mikey was still there, and looks back to me with questions swimming in his gaze.

Mouthing come on, I motion for him to follow as I sneak back to the door. He does, with careful feet across the tatami mats covering his floor. He closes the door slow enough to prevent any sound and trails after me while I head for the lab.

"What's up?" He yawns, shuts the door, and goes back to rubbing his bruised eye.

"Stop that," I hiss, smacking his hand. "You'll just irritate the broken capillaries even more!"

He lowers his arm and frowns, turning his face away as the shame rolls in. In the dim light of the lab, I'm able to see every mark Raph left on him—and it isn't pretty.

"Does it feel as bad as it looks?" I ask lowly. He shrugs and rubs his nose.

"The physical pain isn't really what's bothering me," he murmurs. I swallow that pill of emotional turmoil at my own pace and decide to change the subject.

"So," I start, "what happened with you and Mikey?"

He glares at me. "I should be asking you the same thing, Don. I don't know what you said to make him that upset, but you've gotta figure out a way to fix it."

"Oh, like how you fixed things with Raph?"

It's a low-blow, but we're on even ground and he needs to see that before giving me a lecture. His mouth tugs into a pout, and his bottom lip starts to bleed at the motion. He grimaces and wipes it with the back of his hand, smearing the red beads.

"Ah, shell," he growls.

"You need stitches." I take the opportunity to wriggle out of the awkward, frustrated haze we all seem to be stuck in and grab one of my First Aid kits from under my desk.

He scoffs and wipes the blood off on the jeans he fell asleep in. Ugh, how can he still be wearing Casey's clothes? Took those off the second I got the chance—

"I don't need stitches, Donnie. It's just a busted lip—I've had a million of them."

"So you should know how annoying they are," I quip. "One or two stitches won't hurt, and it will keep it from opening so often."

But Leo has chosen to be especially difficult tonight, and I roll my eyes when he refuses to move. "Just get over here already, will you?"

With an exaggerated groan, he trudges over and sits up on the table, looking grumpy enough to put Raph to shame.

"One stitch," he presses. "And then we're talking about Mikey."

My heart stinks a little. I don't exactly want to recount my episode with Mikey earlier. It hurts enough just to know I made him cry, let alone that I drove him to seek comfort in Leo—someone who made the exact same decision I did and also chose not to tell anyone. Honestly, what closure was he hoping to find in that?

"Sure, sure…" A dry smirk pulls at my lips. "But we're talking about Raph right after."

His shoulders slump simultaneously with his eyebrows. I slip the thread through the eye of the needle and refrain from saying anything else smug. I know it's not right to hassle Leo after his all-around crappy day, but it really is nice to be on the same, morally mislead level—something Leo knows hardly anything about.

I hold his face still, needle in hand, and his compliance seeps through gritted teeth.

"Fine, Donnie."

…

Stories spilt and flayed across the table for us to see, we both wallow in the silence that follows. My head's still swimming around the vexation in Raph's outburst. Him and Leo fight all the time—it's definitely nothing new. But what was new was the falter in my older brother's voice as he retold the event through his own eyes. It was the clench of his fists, the flickering of his gaze while he refused to make eye contact. It's the scrapes and rug burns and welts along his pale skin that speak more than his words ever could...

But still, it feels like he's holding something back.

"Did he say anything else?" I ask, stepping out onto thin ice. Leo merely shakes his head—he still won't look at me.

"No," he mutters quickly. Too quickly. "Just that he was mad at us for not saying anything."

"I get that part, Leo, but why hasn't he beaten me into a pulp yet? I mean, this whole thing was my idea."

His brow arches. "Do you want me to ask him for you?"

A nervous laugh escapes and I wave it off. "Uh, no, not really." I'd rather not duplicate Leo's results with my own attempt of an apology.

He lets out a shaky, shallow breath and squirms with unease. "I told you everything, alright? Now let's talk about what you're gonna do to fix things between you and Mikey."

"Do I even have to fix things?" I groan. "Mikey bounces back from everything—you know that—"

"Not from this, Donnie." The steady firmness in his eyes silences any other protests forming in my mind.

"Okay," I murmur. "Okay, I get it… I'll apologize."

"You've got to do more than that," he presses. "Come on, Donnie, think—you know how he is. You've got to have something that'll lift his spirits."

My lip curls at the pressure he's exerting. I grab the med kit and stuff it under the desk, just to give me something to do while I think. And then I catch the freezer out of my peripherals. Remembering what Leo mentioned earlier, I tilt my head and move for the steel doors.

"How'd you get ice cream all over your shirt again?" I ask idly.

His fingers drum along the table he's still sitting on. "I told you—Mikey brought his cat in my room and threw it at my face."

The cat.

Cold air plumes across my face as I yank open the freezer. Digging through the boxes and labeled vials, I search until I find the one I need.

"Donnie, what're you doing?"

I ignore him and step back, holding the glass container in my hands, chilled to perfection. The paper taped to the side reads: FELIS CATUS.

Leo slides off the table and joins me, leaning over to see what I'm up to.

"What's that?"

A triumphant grin spreads my lips.

"My apology."

~T~

{Mikey}

"The shell are you doing in here?"

A sharp voice jolts me awake. I snap forward, sitting up and reaching for nun-chucks that aren't there. But as I blink the sleep away, I find that it's Raph standing at the edge of the bed, hands hooked on his hips and a dark scowl on his face.

"Raph?" The adrenaline withers away after my brain realizes I'm not being attacked. With a yawn, I rub the morning goop from my eyes.

"Why are you in his room?" he growls.

Swallowing some nasty morning breath, I glance around and remember where I fell asleep. But Leo isn't there anymore.

"We were just talking," I mumble. Feeling groggy, I stretch my arms over my head and smack my tongue. "What're you doing in here?"

"The door was open," he snaps. "Sleep in your own room, Mikey. You're too old for this 'little brother' crap."

He whirls around to leave when I find the courage to say something I'm sure will earn me a beating.

"You just don't want me talking to him 'cause you got mad and punched his face in." His green eyes sear straight through my shell and his lip curls along with his fist, but I play it cool and hop out of the tangled sheets as if I could care less.

"Why would you want to talk to him?" he seethes. "Shell, Mikey, you should be feeling the exact same way I am!"

"Who says I'm not?" I quip. "Maybe I am, but we all don't throw temper tantrums when something doesn't go our way."

Ding, ding, ding! If I wasn't asking for it then, I totally am now. That guy morphs into a full-on freight train of steaming, roaring craziness and comes at me like a mountain. I throw myself into a roll, barely dodging his body slam. Scrambling across the mats, I make a beeline for the hall, a jumbled, frantic mess of flailing limbs and shrieks of terror. I have no idea what time it is, but with my luck it's super early and I'm definitely in for some serious discipline if I wake Master Splinter and holy chulupas, he's gonna rip my shell off—

"Get back here, you little—"

I slide through the hallway as he slams out of Leo's room. Heading for the living room and praying someone else is there to be my meat shield, I glance back to Raph tearing after me and I don't see Leo until I'm barreling into him—

"Dude, help!" Even though there's no way Leo could take Raph in a fight now, I still scramble around him for protection. Everything slows down while I duck behind Leo's shoulders, heart thumping as I watch in anticipation. Raph's stopped at the end of the hall, his eyes locked on Leo, who hasn't moved or said a word.

The silence that follows is totally creepy. Raph's chest is heaving, and his pupils are pinpricks in the green. I step back for a moment, wondering if Raph will be angry enough to just ram through us both.

Leo speaks to me without taking his eyes off our steaming, crazy-train-face brother.

"Donnie wants to see you in his lab."

My chest squeezes tight as the memories and feelings of yesterday come rushing back in. I want to shrink and disappear.

"He does?" I gulp. "W-What for?"

"I think he's got something for you."

My heart flutters nervously. I don't want to get yelled at anymore—I don't want to look at him and think about it—

"Go on." For a split second, the tension is gone in Leo's voice, almost like he's reassuring me. It'd sure help if he'd turn around and look at me when he talks, but I think he's too freaked out to take his eyes off Raph. "Trust me, Mikey—it'll be okay."

With a slow breath, I look back to Raph, who seems frozen where he stands. His fists clench and shake a little at his sides.

"Okay," I whisper. Taking careful steps, I inch away from my brothers' showdown and skirt toward the lab, wondering what lies ahead of me, and what'll happen to those two behind.

~T~

{Raph}

I wait for Mikey to vanish behind the lab doors before allowing myself to feel again. Leo stands across the hall in front of me, composed and still as can be. The swelling around his eye has gone down, but the bruises have darkened and there's a couple stitches in his bottom lip. In the light of a new day, I can see just what I did to him.

Part of me wants to turn around and run, just lock myself in my room again and try to forget the things I did and the things I said. But I can't, and I won't, because I meant every second of it and I wouldn't take it back for anything.

The anger rears up as I stare at those steady blue eyes. I can't tell what his expression is, but there's something of a challenge lying in that ocean. The vexation only grows with each passing second that he refuses to speak, building and building until it hits that peak. Snarling, I stalk toward him with deliberate steps, heat coming off my skin like radiation. Surprisingly, he holds his ground, which only pisses me off more.

"What kinda junk are you filling Mikey's head with?" I snap, getting up in his face. Again, his expression remains stormy and reserved. Just because I can, I give him a hard shove and he hits the wall behind him.

Still nothing.

"Don't you and Donnie go manipulating him with all this 'human' crap, got it?" Another shove. It knocks him back a fraction of an inch, but he simply takes it.

Come on, you little prick. Do something.

His gaze stays the same, not breaking contact with mine for even an instant. Aggravated by his…whatever this is, my lip curls over my teeth and I pin him to the wall as hard as I can. He winces a little, but recovers fast.

"Don't you give me the freaking silent treatment," I hiss. I want him to do something, anything—hit me, scream at me, fight back—I honestly don't care. But I hate, hate, hate his stupid guilt-trip routine.

"Leo, I swear, if you keep this up I'm gonna beat the shell outta you."

When he doesn't respond with anything other than 'the look,' I lose it. My fist swings toward his head while my knee simultaneously juts up to his gut, but all the sudden he's not where he was, and his hand wraps around my airborne fist, yanking it down and using my momentum against me. I stumble, put off by his speed. Cursing, I whirl around and snatch him by the shoulder, shoving him beneath me—

Shing!

Something burns across my left arm. Pain hisses through opened skin, and as a reflex, I release my grip on him. He pushes off the ground before he's even touched it and springs to his feet in a defensive stance, holding a small blade. His eyes are focused like blue lightening as he holds his crouch, waiting on my move.

I stumble back a step and grab at the pain singing through my arm. My eyes widen at the thin line of blood marking my green skin.

"You cut me?" It's more of a question to myself than to him. My heart skips, even though I can tell just by looking at it that the wound is thin and shallow. Someone who handles blades so often as my brother knows how to show force as well as restraint—he was holding back.

Which means this was a warning.

Without a word, he straightens and slips the blade back into his pocket. He keeps his gaze on me for a little longer, and there's something in his eyes that strikes a chord in my chest. I find I can't move a muscle as I watch him turn around and wander off to the kitchen in silence.

I'm still standing there, even after he's disappeared. A droplet of blood runs down along my arm and drips off my finger; the cut seethes in its hidden pain, in the withheld rage—

But I don't feel a single thing.

~T~

{Mikey}

"You lied to me."

The words come out before I can stop them, but I don't care anymore. Standing here in Donnie's lab and listening to him try to apologize for not telling me has only made these feelings worse. Leo shouldn't have to tell Donnie when to say he's sorry—he should know that and do it on his own.

My brother watches me with those calm, calculating brown eyes—the only thing truly familiar about his human form.

"I lied to you?" he repeats, tilting his head. "Mikey, what're you—"

"I saw that notebook," I say, louder now. "Remember? I was in here and I saw it, and I asked you about your little Project X thing and all those weird human drawings, and you know what you did?" My fingers curl to fists at my sides, my eyes burning. "You lied right to my face. Gave me some stupid story about fixing other mutants or whatever."

He blinks and rubs his neck nervously, but I know I've got him.

"Mikey, I…" With a heavy sigh, his shoulders slump. "You've got to understand why we couldn't tell anyone—"

"Do I?" My voice cracks and I hate it, I hate this, but we're here and talking is the only way we're ever going to fix this mess. "How am I supposed to understand keeping secrets from your own family?"

He fumbles for words, swallowing thickly while his genius brain tries not to short-circuit. But after an awkward minute of starting and then re-starting his sentences, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them again, they're on me, wavering in just enough sincerity for me to drop my defenses a little lower.

"What can I do to make it better?

No more arguments, no dancing around my frustration with his dumb excuses—at least he got right to the point.

Remembering what Leo mentioned last night, I muster up the courage for honesty.

"I want to be human," I say firmly. "Like you guys."

His eyes widen a tiny bit. "…You do?"

"Of course I do," I scoff, crossing my arms. "You know, D, you can be pretty stupid sometimes. Makes me wonder why you all pick on me—"

"Okay, whatever," he waves off my complaints. "But Mikey…that's a huge decision. A-And we still don't know if it's safe—"

"Then find out, man! Geez, what kinda scientist are you if you can't figure out whether or not something's safe?"

He swallows and runs a hand through his curly hair. "It'll take a while to make the retromutagen…"

I sit up on the table and swing my legs idly while I try to stuff down all the fuzzy warm feelings of victory. "How long, bro?"

He rubs his chin, eyes narrowing in deep thought. "I…I don't know. A few months, maybe—it helps that I used your DNA already to make that medicine we used for your burns."

The memory makes me frown. That night seems like forever ago, and I'd like it to stay that way.

"Why would that help?" I ask.

"Well, I used it to create that mutagen specifically tuned for your skin. I'm not sure how long it'll take to convert to retromutagen—that process is lengthy because the cells have to multiply with copies of the mutagen in their nuclei—"

"Yeah, science, got it," I steamroll. "But you can do it?"

He hesitates. "…Yeah… But you'll have to be patient. And…we should probably ask Master Splinter. The decision will fall on him, really."

An excited squeal makes him flinch as I slide off the table and wrap him in a big bro hug, something that he must hate even more considering how much stronger I am compared to him and his skinny human self.

"Sweet! Thank you, Donnie—thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—"

"Mmph, o-okay Mikey—you c-can let go now!"

I squeeze him extra tight for emphasis before opening my arms again. He stumbles back, wincing as he grabs his desk for balance.

"So…are we good?" he asks, concern knitting his brows.

I pretend to think it over. "Sort of. I mean, I'm still mad at you, but I'll get over it eventually." A devious smirk tugs at my lips. "You know, after you give me all your pizza and obey my every wish."

His face goes slack for a second before I burst out laughing.

"Hah, I'm totally kidding! But, ah, you do owe me pizza." I raise my brow. "A lot of pizza."

He grins and lets out a sigh of relief. "Deal, little brother." His eyes light up suddenly and he glances at the freezer behind him.

"Can I give you something else?" he asks. My lips purse and I stand on my tippy toes in curiosity, but all I see is the freezer.

"Um…what?"

That knowing smile returns. "A cat." His smile grows as my face wrinkles in confusion.

"What?"

He leans forward ever so slightly. "Your cat, to be precise."

I straighten my shoulders and give him a cuckoo look and tilt my head until it almost rolls off my neck.

"Uh, dude, you can't give me something I already have—"

He simply shakes his head. "Go get her, and I'll show you."

…

I have absolutely no idea what to expect when I set Kitty down in Donnie's sink. She mewls and squirms, confused at this new setting.

"Okay, she's in the sink," I say questioningly. "Now what?"

He comes over from the freezer, gloves on his hands and armed with a very scary-looking needle. I jump in front of the sink protectively.

"Whoa man, you're not gonna stick her with that!"

He rolls his eyes and huffs, irritated.

"Will you just move and let me show you?"

I grab the sides of my head in exaggeration. "Show me what?!"

He groans and pushes me aside, waving the needle around to keep me a good distance away.

"But Donnie," I whine, "she doesn't need any shots! And what's that weird green stuff in there? Why are you—"

"Oh, for the love of—" He whirls around, glaring. "It's retromutagen—it's going to turn her back into a normal cat!"

Everything in me stops. My eyes widen until they sting and I feel my jaw go slack.

His nostrils flare as he turns back to the melting pile of cat in the sink.

"I was trying to be dramatic, so, you know, thanks for ruining that."

"A cat?" I repeat dumbly. "Like a real cat? Y-You can do that?"

"Of course." Oh, yeah, like it's so obvious.

My brain is imploding. "But how?"

He pats her on the head and frowns at the ice cream she leaves on his glove. "I used a sample of her cells to test the retromutagen's abilities before using it on Leo and I. Totally forgot I had that sample in the freezer until last night, but I thought you might like it if I—"

"Yes," I blurt, lifting my hands to my face in excitement. "Yes, holy chulupas, yes!"

He smiles at me, the kind, brotherly way he used to.

"Alright, now stand back a bit, okay? The retromutagen's in the needle, and when I inject it, it's going to spread through her inorganic matter first, so—"

"Yeah, yeah, just do it!"

He gives me a look to back off, so I do, and watch as he puts the needle through the side of her neck. She twists around and swipes at him, hissing fierce.

"It's okay, Kitty!" I singsong. "He's gonna fix you!"

The green filters out of the needle and into her. At first, nothing happens, but as soon as I'm about to open my big mouth and address the nothingness, her ice cream starts to bubble up and foam.

My heart leaps into my throat. "What the shell is it foaming for?" I shriek.

"It's just reacting to the lactose in her genetic makeup," he presses, nudging me back. "Calm down."

She cries out with this horrible, spine-chilling scream/meow. My hands fly up to my mouth.

"Donnie, it's hurting her! Donnie—"

"It's supposed to hurt!" he shouts, holding me away from the sink. "It hurt Leo and I too, now will you just calm down and—"

The foam hisses, covering her form entirely until there's nothing but thick green, bubbling fluff, and then there's nothing but silence.

My brain scrambles, heart tripping in my chest. I finally lose it and shove Donnie aside to reach for her.

"It's okay, Kitty!"

"Don't touch it!" he snaps. "We've gotta wash it off first, okay? Now just back up and calm down."

Swallowing hard, I look from him back to the bubbling mess of what used to be my pet.

"Kitty…"

I step aside for him as he rinses the foam away. It takes what feels like forever, and everything in me is tingling with a weird combo of fear and excitement. But finally, finally, the bubbles and green goop are swirling down the drain. My brother lifts his arms up, and out from the sink, squirming in his gloved hands, comes a soaking wet, furry orange cat.

A/N: CATS! I love cats. Cats are great. They also are evil and I'm pretty sure will bring about the apocalypse. You guys can blame zombies all ya want, but I think we all know what the true source of humanity's demise will be.

I hope this chapter was everything you desired and more! Please leave your thoughts, your reviews keep me going and you are all such an inspiration *hugs and love and confetti and cake all around*

I usually write more in these, but Midnight Phantasma and I are gonna hang out and binge watch Bates Motel, so I decided to update quick before I duck out. Anywho, thanks for taking the time to read this brain baby! I'll be back with another update soon because MOTIVATION HAS RETURNED. HUZZAH.

Have a turtletastic week!