A/N: And here's the final chapter! A big thank-you for all my reviewers, favoriters, alerters, and lurkers for making this such a fun ride. You guys just add to the experience.

Hisomi: Right you are! But Mikey would sooner take a hit than let his brothers take it for him, I believe. Plus, he gets some pretty awesome bragging rights that make it all worth it in his mind. Thanks for your review!

Mikey fidgeted on the couch as Don applied the final bandages to his legs back at April's apartment. In the chair across from him Raph sat patiently as April tended to some of his minor cuts with the supplies from her own med kit. The fact that they had multiple med kits said something in itself.

"So how bad is it, Donny-boy?" Mikey sat up a little straighter to try and peer over his brother's shoulder as he worked.

"Good, good…" Donny replied vacantly. Whenever his attention was divided between two tasks—in this case talking and doctoring—Donatello tended to give one subject greater thought than the other. Michelangelo was the first to observe that talking usually took the back seat. How? As limited as his medical knowledge was, Mikey knew that when Don answered such questions as "How bad is it broken?" or "Am I going into shock?" with "Mmhmm" or "Are you now?" something wasn't quite clicking all the way for his brother.

"Don," Mikey prompted slowly, "Did you even hear me?"

"Hm?" Don bit off the strap of gauze and tucked it to prevent any unwinding.

"I'm breaking out in a purple rash that's oozing puss. Is it contagious?"

A few more nips and tucks, and Don sat back on his haunches to view the result. Clearly satisfied, he looked up and realized Mikey was staring at him. "Did you say something?" he asked innocently.

Yep. He had been off in Donnyland again. "Yeah, bro. How bad is it?"

"Oh." Don packed away any loose material and gently pat Mikey's bandages with an air of confidence. "Better than expected, actually. I anticipated far more grievous repercussions considering the source of your injuries, but I guess given the rather unexpected nature of your offensive tactics—"

Leo smiled at the blank expression that stole across Mikey's face at his brother's rambling. Time to save him. Walking up and leaning on the back of the couch, Leo cleared his throat and tapped Donatello's shoulder. "Um, Don?"

Donny paused at the question. "Yeah?"

"I think he only wants to know how long he's bedbound."

Catching on to the look of exasperation clearly evident in Mikey's eyes, Don allowed his face to soften apologetically as he gave the legs one last survey. "Right… I'd say two weeks at least before they're properly healed. You did get—forgive the pun—thoroughly shredded."

It was an awful pun. Ignoring his brother's attempt at bedside humor, Mikey jumped right into the standard interrogation. "So no skateboarding?"

Don rolled his eyes but replied all the same. "No, Mikey."

"No patrols?"

"No."

"No getting chased by Raph?"

Raphael snorted, absently fingering the bandage on his face. "Moron."

Pausing in her administrations, April frowned good-naturedly and punched him in the arm. "Be nice, or you can patch yourself up."

Though the punch had hardly any force—as if she could have bruised him anyway—Raph rubbed the spot to humor her and flashed a wry grin, settling back into his dogged silence.

April winked at Mikey, and he returned it.

Favoring Leo and Raph with a sly glance, Mikey tucked his hands behind his head, leaned back into his pillows, and closed his eyes, uttering a long-suffering sigh. "The things I do for my brothers…" Cracking open a single eye, he asked, "So, what about video games?"

And there it was. Leo reached down and affectionately rubbed Mikey's head. "That I'll allow."

"Ice cream?"

Don pretended to consider it. "Perhaps."

"A foot massage to ease the suffering of my poor legs?" Mikey flexed his toes, and his brothers wrinkled their snouts.

"Don't push it," Raph grunted from his seat.

Mikey smiled and shifted to get more comfortable. Ow. Okay, so moving wasn't a good idea. After he shrugged off a wince, he regarded Don curiously as something came to mind. "So it really worked. The whole fire-blows-up-sewers thing."

Don exchanged a glance with Leo and met Mikey's eye line. "It would seem so."

No arguing with that. As he crossed his arms and meditated on it a few seconds longer, Mikey frowned. "You know what I still don't get? How come we didn't blow up to begin with?"

Mulling over the question, Don stared off thoughtfully.

In another time and place, a meddlesome authoress lay stretched out on her bed reading a chemistry textbook. As her eyes dully skimmed over the page, they suddenly brightened as the chapter touched upon the combustive properties of methane.

A small smile quirking her features, she mumbled to herself, "Fire in the sewers? Now that would be a fun fic to write…" Storing the idea away for a future time when she would get off her lazy butt and finally write it, she resumed reading the chapter with a renewed interest and appreciation.

Don shrugged earnestly. "We may never know, Mikey."

Officer Hersch gave the alley one last once-over before clicking his pen off on his clipboard and dismissively trudging toward the patrol car idling by the curb.

Tossing his report onto the backseat, he slid behind the wheel and shifted the gear from park to drive, signaling as he pulled out onto the road.

"So…" his partner's eyes glinted curiously, "What happened?"

Hersch sighed as he turned down the next street toward the station. "Looked like some sort of sewer explosion. A big one, too. The paramedics were turned away once we were sure no one was hurt, and the reporters got what they needed for their evening segments. I didn't see any sign of the jerk-off responsible, and it's just as well. It may have been a freak thing for all the evidence left behind."

His partner scratched the stubble on his chin but kept his eyes trained on Hersch. "Do you think it was the work of a gang?"

"Nah. There'd be a bigger mess to clean up otherwise. Plus, there weren't any bodies. A rescue team even searched the sewers to be safe, and they came back empty-handed."

With nothing more to say, the two directed their conversation to more pleasant topics as their car bumped down the road.

Leo and Raph sat leisurely on the edge of an old Federal and surveyed the dark streets below. Neither spoke for the stretch of a companionable silence. Then Raphael broke the relative peace of their little corner of the city.

"All right, Fearless. What's up? Y'sure picked a dull part of town to patrol."

Nothing went unnoticed between the two, which drew a crooked smirk from Leo. "Well, Don and I were talking…"

Raph groaned, perhaps in a method a tad over-dramatic. Mikey must be rubbing off on him. "Not this again. Look, I won't smoke, okay? So can I skip the lecture?"

Rather than respond, Leo reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a small lighter and cigarette, holding the two out to his brother. After gauging his brother's admittedly dumbfounded reaction, he spoke. "There wasn't going to be a lecture, actually. We discussed it, and decided that you had a point. You're mature enough to make your own decisions, and the choice should be yours."

Unable to think of a clever retort or an appropriate gesture, Raph settled for stealing a suspicious glance into his brother's serious expression. "Ya mean it?" He pointed at the cigarette to be certain they were both on the same page. "Just like that?"

Leo nodded solemnly. "Obviously I don't approve, but it's not up to me for once."

A grin slowly cracked Raph's face. Not needing any further encouragement, he reached out and carefully accepted the proffered items with an almost reverential restraint. Tucking the cigarette between his teeth, he flicked the lighter, lit, and took a long, suave pull. Then gagged.

Coughing and spluttering, he viciously tossed the offensive object across the roof where it smoldered into the gravel. After pounding on his chest several times in a vain attempt to clear his lungs, he fired a sharp, watery glare at his brother and hissed hoarsely, "What? So you're tryin'… to kill me… now?" Another fit of choked gags seized him.

Leo couldn't conceal a smug smirk in the wake of his triumph. "I'm afraid not; that's a genuine cigarette Raph. Personally, I don't find it a very appealing habit to fall into, but if it's what you want…" He ducked out of the reach of Raphael's lunge, still grinning and just short of an 'I told you so.'

"I'm gonna… kill you!"

"You'd have to catch me first, Wheezey." To prove his point, Leo jumped to his feet and calmly strode several paces away, while Raph rose, only to double over with more coughing.

A small beep interrupted them. Leo reached casually for his phone when it buzzed and looked over the text he received. "It's Mikey. He says we need to get home fast; Don brought in the paper and apparently we indirectly made the news… Again. Not as good as our TCRI infiltration, I'll warrant, but still impressive. Coming?" He glanced over his shoulder with mocking patience.

With a growl and another wheeze, Raph pursued his already sprinting brother. As he ran past the cigarette, he stopped it out, his heel grinding it into the rooftop with more force than necessary.

A/N: And the end! What? Of course Shredder lived. Pfft. The Shredder doesn't die.

As for Raph's smoking, I personally think he'd never get beyond the first cigarette, if he even tries it to begin with. From what I've heard, the first cigarette is gross, and I think that would be enough to turn him off completely. He doesn't seem like the type to have the patience to acquire a taste.

And the moral of this story? Part of it is knowledge is power, or more appropriately, ignorance is bliss (Kudos to Reinbeauchaser for picking up on that in one of her reviews). Another part is we, the authors, help shape the TMNT fandom as much as the creators or producers do (Mystic Medjai picked up on that one), so write wisely, my friends. Otherwise some seriously peeved-off turtles are gonna come banging down your door demanding recompense for drastically inconveniencing their lives for the sake of a handful of reviews and chuckles. *peeks over chair as a sai is wedged between the wall and door jamb, working through the deadbolt* Now, if you'll excuse me, dear readers, I have pressing matters to attend to… heh.