"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I found!" Mikey cried, running over to where Splinter sat with his eyes closed on the floor of the lair.

It was a normal New York afternoon, and the Turtles were at play in the main room of the lair. As usual, Splinter supervised them from the sidelines while meditating with his eyes closed. He could do both at the same time because he was just that awesome.

"What is it, Michelangelo?" the mutant rat said, opening his eyes and looking at his youngest son.

The other three Turtles hurried over to look, too.

Michelangelo held out his little green hand. In his palm, a tiny caterpillar wiggled and crawled.

"Ooh, I know what that is!" Donnie piped up. "It's called a caterpillar. I read about it in my book once."

"No one cares," Raph informed him.

"Ah, a caterpillar," Splinter said, silencing them both. He looked at Mikey. "Do you know what caterpillars turn into?"

Mikey shook his head with a confused expression.

"I do!" said Donnie. "Caterpillars turn into butterflies. It's something called metamorphosis. Wanna know how it works?"

"No," said Raph.

Donnie looked down at his feet.

"Wow," Leo breathed, coming over to look down at the caterpillar. "That's really neat, Mikey."

"It's not that neat," Raph said. "It's just a little worm."

"One's size does not govern one's strength, Raphael," Splinter told his second-oldest son. "The smallest thing could be the one with the biggest intentions. Never underestimate one's strength because of its size."

"Okay, Dad," Raph said without any real emotion, rolling his green eyes.

"Plus, caterpillars are not worms," Donnie corrected his older brother. "Those are very different from caterpillars."

"I don't care," Raphael replied.

"Daddy?" Mikey spoke, looking up at his father with hopeful eyes. "Can I...can I keep the caterpillar?"

"Michelangelo," Splinter said to his son. "Caring for something is a big responsibility. I would know, for I care for all four of you."

"Please? I can be responsible!"

"No, you can't," Raph told him.

Mikey ignored him.

"Please, Daddy?" he begged. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssseeeeeee?"

Raphael covered his ears and shrunk to the floor.

Splinter thought for a moment.

"Very well," he decided. "You may keep the caterpillar, but only if you promise to treat it with utmost responsibility and care."

"I promise!" Mikey said; his voice was serious, but it quickly turned happy again. "I'm gonna name you Mr. Wiggle!"

"That's a stupid name," Raphael remarked.

But if Mikey heard, he showed no sign of it. The little turtle turned and ran off to his room to play with his new friend.
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A few days had passed since Mikey had adopted Mr. Wiggle, and already the caterpillar was doing well. Mikey kept his little "pet" in a jar with air holes poked in the top; Splinter let him use branches and leaves from the plants in his room to feed the caterpillar and provide a natural-feeling habitat for it. The caterpillar was growing fast, eating a lot and growing bigger quickly. Every day, Mikey took Mr. Wiggle out to play.

That afternoon was no exception. Michelangelo gently took Mr. Wiggle out of his jar and placed him on the floor. He watched the little caterpillar crawl along the floor of the room, inching its way around. Leo and Donnie watched with fascination from on top of the Turtles' bed.

"I still can't believe we have our own pet," Leo said as he watched Mr. Wiggle crawl. "Like Captain Ryan has a pet glorberdingle in Space Heroes!"

Raphael had been standing nearby, watching Mr. Wiggle move with a scornful expression. He suddenly moved forward until he was right in front of the family pet. Then he raised his big green foot ominously over the little caterpillar with a mean little grin on his face.

"No!" Mikey cried, running over and scooping Mr. Wiggle up in his little green hands. "Don't you dare step on Mr. Wiggle!"

"Relax, Mikey," Raph snorted. "I was just havin' some fun with that useless little worm."

"It wasn't funny!" Mikey snapped. "And Mr. Wiggle isn't useless!"

"Oh, yeah? What's he good for, then?"

"Lots of stuff!"

"Like what?"

"He makes me happy! And he's fun! And he's not a big meanie like you!"

Raphael opened his mouth for an angry reply, but Leo glared at him and he sighed, walking back to where he stood before.

Mikey carried Mr. Wiggle over to the drawer where he kept his jar and gently placed the caterpillar back into its "home".

"There you go, Mr. Wiggle," he said with satisfaction. "Now mean old Raph can't get you."

Raphael growled and stomped out of the room.
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"Mr. Wiggle! Mr. Wiggle, what's wrong?" Mikey's voice was high-pitched with worry. "Why aren't you moving?"

Leo, Raph, and Donnie rushed over to Mr. Wiggle's jar.

It had been two weeks now since Mr. Wiggle had been given a place in the family, and right then, the caterpillar was acting strange. He was hanging upside-down from a branch of one of the plants in his jar, not moving an inch.

"Why isn't he moving?" Mikey asked frantically.

"Maybe he's just sleepy," Leonardo suggested.

"Or maybe he's dead," said Raph.

"He's not dead, Raph," Donnie said, coming over to look at the caterpillar. "He's about to enter metamorphosis."

"What's that mean?" Mikey demanded.

Donnie giggled, his gap teeth showing as he smiled.

"You'll see," is all he said.
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The very next day, a cry of dismay jolted everyone from their thoughts. The cry echoed through the lair, out into the sewers, and possibly out to the surface as well.

Splinter came rushing into his sons' room, heart beating with panic. He found his sons crowded around Mr. Wiggle's jar. Mikey was crying, staring at the jar with his hands pressed helplessly to its glass.

"What is the matter?" he demanded.

"Mr. Wiggle!" Mikey cried, tears running down his freckled face. "He's not there!"

Splinter strode over and peered into the jar.

The caterpillar was gone.

And in its place was a chrysalis.

"Mr. Wiggle is here," Splinter reassured his son.

"Where?" Mikey demanded, looking around the jar. "I don't see him!"

"Do you see that little pouch hanging from that branch?" Splinter gestured toward the chrysalis.

Mikey nodded.

"That's where Mr. Wiggle used to be," he said sadly.

"Mr. Wiggle is inside of that pouch right now," Splinter told him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What's he doing in there?"

"He is growing bigger and stronger inside of there."

"Aww, I thought he was dead," Raphael said.

Splinter shot him a warning look and he fell silent.

"When will he come out?" Mikey asked hopefully.

"Soon, Michelangelo," Splinter promised. "In the meantime, you must have patience. That is part of the responsibility of caring for something. Mr. Wiggle will come out soon, and when he does, he will be good and new. It will all be worth it."

"Promise?" Mikey sniffed, his blue eyes glimmering with hope.

"I promise," Splinter said.
----------------------------------------------A week passed. Michelangelo grew more and more impatient with each passing day. He checked Mr. Wiggle's jar every minute of every day, hoping that his multi-legged companion would come out of his concealment and come back to play with him. And he never did.

Until one day, finally, that changed.

"Mr. Wiggle! He's moving!" Mikey's joyful cry made everyone rush over to the jar.

Sure enough, the chrysalis was jiggling wildly from where it hung from its branch. Tiny cracks were appearing in its beautiful green surface, getting wider and wider all over the chrysalis.

"What's happening?" Mikey asked.

"Metamorphosis," Donnie told him.

"Regular words, please," Raph said.

"Mr. Wiggle is breaking free from his chrysalis," Splinter explained to his youngest son. "He is breaking free to return to you."

Moments after this was said, the chrysalis broke open. Beautiful orange-and-black wings slowly lifted from out of the little green case, followed by the tiny body of an insect. Mikey and his brothers-even Raph-gasped.

Mr. Wiggle was no more.

A beautiful butterfly had taken his place.

"I've seen that kind of butterfly before! In my book!" Donnie exclaimed. "It's called a monarch butterfly."

"Look at that, Mikey!" Leo said. "It's orange! Your favorite color!"

Little Michelangelo did not respond. He stared at the butterfly with his blue eyes, his expression unreadable.

"What is wrong, Michelangelo?" Splinter asked, kneeling so he was at his son's level. "Why do you not rejoice at the return of your pet?"

"Yeah, Mikey! Why aren't you happy? Your precious Mr. Wiggle is back," Raph grumbled.

"That's not his name," Mikey whispered.

"Yeah, it is!" Raph exclaimed. "That's what you named the stupid worm."

"But he's different now," said Michelangelo. "He's not a caterpillar anymore. He doesn't wiggle around anymore. He's a butterfly now."

"So?" Raph crossed his arms.

"So he's not Mr. Wiggle anymore," Mikey said quietly. "He's someone else."

"Hmm," Splinter thought for a moment. "You are right, Michelangelo. Mr. Wiggle had been reborn. He is a new insect now, no longer Mr. Wiggle."

Michelangelo nodded.

"Perhaps we should give Mr. Wiggle a new name," Splinter suggested.

"Yes," said Mikey. He looked at the monarch butterfly inside.

"I'm going to call you Mr. Bright," he said. "Because you're bright and orange and new."

The butterfly fluttered it's wings, as if it liked this new name very much.
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The next day, when evening fell over New York, the family gathered outside the entrance to the lair, gazing out into the sewers before them. Mikey held Mr. Bright's jar in his green hands. He stared down at it sadly, tears in his eyes.

"Daddy, do we have to let him go?" he asked sadly.

"Yes, Michelangelo," Splinter replied. "You have taken excellent care of your friend, and I am very proud of you for that. But now, you must set him free, let him walk his own path."

"You mean fly his own path," Donnie piped up.

"Er-yes," Splinter said quickly. "Thank you for that, Donatello."

He looked down at Mikey

"Are you ready?" he asked gently.

Mikey's expression was sad. Tears started running down his cheeks and onto the ground. But he nodded firmly.

"Then do it," Splinter's voice was gentle but firm.

Michelangelo sniffed. Slowly, he took the lid of the jar, unscrewed it, and took it off, dropping it to the ground. Mr. Bright's wings flapped slowly inside the jar for a moment. But then it fluttered up and out of the glass habitat.

The four little turtles watched in amazement as the monarch butterfly fluttered in the air for its first time, faltering a bit, before landing right on Mikey's nose. Mikey laughed. Mr. Bright's wings flapped slowly as it sat on the young turtle's nose, as if to say good bye.

Then he lifted up into the air, faltering just a little, and flew in the opposite direction, slowly fluttering farther and farther away from them.

"Good bye, Mr. Bright!" Mikey called after it. "I'll miss you! Come back and visit me!"

The family watched Mr. Bright soar away, getting smaller and smaller, farther and father, until he disappeared into the sewers.

Mikey sniffed sadly, lowering his eyes.

"That was the responsible thing to do," Splinter told his son. "You have set Mr. Bright free, to let him live his life."

"Do you think he'll remember me?" Mikey asked quietly.

"Of course he will," Raph said, walking over and wrapping an arm around his brother. "He's gotta remember you."

"You really think so?"

"Yep."

"Wow! Thanks, Raphie!"

"Don't call me Raphie. And you're welcome, Mikey."

"Come, my sons," Splinter said. "Let us get some sleep."

"Hey! Look!" Mikey cried suddenly.

He peered into the jar, and his brothers did the same.

There-inside the glass jar-Mr. Bright's chrysalis still hung from its little branch, still it's bright green. It was now cracked open where Mr. Bright had broken out, but it was his chrysalis nonetheless.

Something to remember Mr. Bright by, Michelangelo thought happily. Don't worry, Mr. Bright. Even if you don't remember me, I'll remember you, always.