A/N

Yooo... I haven't posted a story in like a million years.

I need to get back into the groove of writing, so forgive me if this story starts off slow, and the updates are infrequent. I feel I should prewarn you guys about that.

The chapters will mostly be short, also. I have serious trouble keeping myself writing once I've started, so I'm hoping giving myself a lower wordcount goal will help with that.

Also, this is (at least) sort of in the 2012 universe. It'll include elements of all of them, though. So I guess you can technically consider this a totally different universe, if you want. That's kind of what I do.

Anyway, to start off, enjoy your typical, pretty boring origin story that you've heard a million times.

(It should go without saying that concrit is welcome... I need help lol)

Hamato Yoshi, freshly mutated, exhausted, and hunched over in barely concealed pain, finally allowed himself to fall to his knees.

In front of him the baby turtles were crawling around excitedly in the vaguely luminescent, green substance that had caused his own metamorphosis. He wanted to remove them, but didn't feel capable of much more than sort of keeping his eyes open in the moment.

There were too many thoughts running through his head to even think straight. It didn't feel at all real, and he was truthfully still trying to process everything. Within the span of two minutes, his situation had gone from 'looking up' to 'bottom rung' once more. Just two minutes for him to lose everything- again.

His first real, solid thought was that he must somehow be dreaming- in graphic detail and alarming clarity. That must be it. Things like this didn't happen; people didn't mutate into horrifying, hirsute, anthropomorphic creatures. That was sci-fi; this was real life.

And yet, as impossible as it was, when he glanced at his hand he still had claws, and when he felt at his face his nose was still massive and way too long to be human, and he still had fur covering his entire body, and none of it was going away. He knew it couldn't be a dream, really- it was all too real to be a dream. Though, at the moment, the shock of the situation was keeping him from truly thinking about that.

Suddenly, his ears twitched- something he hadn't meant to do, and that disturbed him to a degree. Something, or somebody, was making an awful lot of noise a short distance away. To him, it sounded like running…

More men were coming, and lots of them. He knew it; he could sense them, and he could hear the shouts of irritation as they stormed through the crowds of people to get to the back alley he was in. There were too many. He couldn't deal with this alone- not in his current state. They would have him down in less than a minute.

He had to hide.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his protesting muscles. The second his head stopped spinning, however, he noticed with some alarm that the turtles had scattered. He knew they were hit by the slime, too, and when he looked a little bit closer he could tell they looked bigger, and- something… anatomically different. Also, one of them was trying to stand, which was definitely not a thing turtles did. He couldn't leave them alone- they had to come with him.

Cautiously, he stumbled toward the nearest turtle, and, as gently as he could, went to scoop him up. The turtle reacted badly, at first, and even went as far as to try to bite him, but Yoshi did not have time to be concerned about that.

The first turtle calmed down a bit when the others (who were, so far, much more mild-mannered) were picked up. Yoshi tried to hold them as gently as possible, but was having some difficulty with their squirming, and the fact that he was still trying to operate in a body he was not used to only made matters worse.

He scanned the ground quickly, noting the shattered glass and remaining slime. Something was missing… he was forgetting something- he just didn't know what. His jumbled thoughts were causing him some difficulty.

But he didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, as the footsteps were suddenly much closer, then, and louder. His heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest. They were almost on him- he had to leave immediately.

Only wasting a second to glance behind him, he darted to the nearest hiding place he could spot: a manhole, and with some effort managed to slide the cover open just enough to drop into the sewers.

Just as he slid the manhole cover closed again he heard voices and footsteps from above. The men had finally made it to the alley, and were saying something about the spilled canister. For just a second he considered staying to listen to them, but quickly decided he shouldn't dwell there, in the event that they realized where he went and came looking. Besides, the wordy, strange way they spoke was giving him a headache, anyway.

It was difficult to get himself going. The nauseating smell of the water was discouraging enough to keep him stood in place for a good minute, unable to stomach the fact that he would have to stay here for a while- god willing, only few days.

Eventually, however, the agitated squirming of the three turtles still in his hand reeled his mind back to the current task: getting to safety- not only for himself, but for them.

And so, stifling a gag at the stench about him, he picked a direction at random and reluctantly began his lengthy trek to safety.