A/N: This is my 2nd fanfic, so please R&R! The story is mostly written, so I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1

It was late, so T'mana decided to take a short cut down the southern alley. She had done it before and it wasn't a very long alley, but it would save her five minutes. She smiled to herself at the irony. Her mother had named her T'mana, a Filipino tribal word for 'walk,' in the hopes that her daughter would move slowly through life instead of rush. Her mother was what most would refer to as a 'hippie'. Peace, love and harmony were her mother's legacy and truest belief. She had meant well when she named her daughter, but T'mana had wished she had been named Sue or Megan her entire childhood. Explaining to other five year olds what her name meant always labeled her as 'weird'. It was T'mana's fate to be different. She was, after all, a Native American with a Filipino name. To make matters worse, T'mana had jet-black hair and slightly almond shaped eyes so everyone assumed she was Asian. But her skin was a dark copper color that was far more rugged and weather worn than the delicate porcelain skin of an Asian beauty. No matter how hard she struggled, she never quite seemed to fit in. Until one day, T'mana just didn't care.

Now, she went through her life proud of her name. But that didn't mean she honored it. She was a tyrant for punctuality and scheduling. And right now, she was late because the bus she had taken took an unscheduled stop. It threw off her rhythm and she needed to get back in sync with her schedule. Cutting through the alley would achieve that.

It was late. After nine o'clock. What could she possibly be rushing to at this late hour? A date? No, of course not. Twenty-six years old on a Friday night and she was rushing home to Skype with her mother of all people. But if she was late, she would never hear the end of it and she would be guilted into actually visiting her mother in Jersey instead of Skyping. Jersey wasn't far, but it was a whole country of its own and T'mana preferred to not venture beyond her new city limits of New York just yet.

T'mana turned the corner smoothly, her ballet style shoes whisper quiet on the pavement. A good thing, because she had stepped into a hold up. The gunman had the man against the brick wall of the building, the poor man clutching his brief case in front of him as if it were body armor. The Suit was trembling and the gunman stood unwavering. It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing. And then, without warning, the gun went off. T'mana couldn't close her eyes; they were so wide with terror. She let out a small gasp, trying to keep quiet and still her fear, but the gunman turned from the crumpled man and saw her watching him. Her heart literally skipped a beat and time seemed to freeze as several things happened at once. She dropped her purse and turned on her heel to run back to the main street out of the alley. The crowd that infuriated her day after day would prove to be her salvation now. At the same instant, the gunman raised his arm to take aim as he stepped toward her. Then time expanded like a rubber band and everything snapped back into real time.

She was now running but to her dismay, the streets were empty. She could hear the gunman's footfalls behind her and knew his stride was longer than hers, so she picked up speed to try to keep ahead of him. She turned a corner and found herself down another alley. She heard something flick against the brick wall she had just been in front of and realized why she hadn't heard a gunshot. The weapon had a silencer on it. Not your everyday garden-variety criminal. Panic flared and the desperate need to disappear took the imperative over her empty lungs and burning legs. She turned another corner and saw an open manhole. Without thinking, she careened for it and jumped down full force without looking. She landed hard and fell on her knee as she braced with her wrist and palm, but she was up in a flash and running again, ignoring the sewage and grime that now covered her. She thanked whatever powers there were that she was wearing khakis with a blazer instead of a suit skirt today. Running was far easier when you were wearing pants. She pulled out her keys which she kept clipped to her belt and pressed the keychain flashlight to help her see a little better. She knew it would help her pursuer pinpoint where she was, but she didn't want to run into a wall and knock herself unconscious. The keychain was weak, but offered up enough light for her to know when to turn or go straight.

She felt something whiz against her left temple as it ruffled her hair and she screamed involuntarily. She turned again, terror boiling in her blood so furiously she felt her heart would burst. She didn't want to die. She loved her life and wanted desperately to go back to it. In the back of her mind she knew her mother would be angry when she didn't show up for the Skype session. But she also knew her mother would panic when she didn't answer her phone. The phone she had dropped in the alleyway when she let her purse fall from her arm. She couldn't even call for help. She knew that there would be no escaping this. The gunman with the silenced weapon didn't seem the type to give up and let a witness go free. But T'mana held on to some futile hope that it would all end soon and, somehow, in her favor.

No sooner had she thought this than she came to a tumbling halt as the man appeared in front of her from the shadows. He had a wicked grin on his face, clearly proud that he had outsmarted his prey. She didn't scream, but she did take a step back. His gun was poised at her and she now took in his face, muddled as it was from the shadows of the night lit sewers.

"Sorry, kid." The man growled, not sounding at all remorseful. "Wrong place at the wrong time." He moved his finger to the trigger, but hesitated. "Aren't you going to beg?" He needled. "Aren't you gonna say 'oh please don't shoot me. I promise I won't tell.'?"

She tried to swallow but there was no spit in her mouth. Her heart beat so hard it was hurting.

"It wouldn't stop you." She said, proud that her voice wasn't shaky or timid. But she felt she would shatter apart from the tremors that seemed to originate in her bones. She had never been so afraid and it seemed like her body would eventually break down into molecules if it continued.

"No." The gunman smiled, his crooked grin widening at the thought. He raised his arm back up to shoot her when a green blur tackled the gunman.

"Wanna dance?" a gritty voice challenged. It was a different voice. T'mana decided she didn't want to dance and didn't hesitate to run full speed out of the tunnel. She didn't know who or what jumped in, but she wasn't going to wait around and find out if it was friendly or not. She ran for a few seconds until she saw light shining from above. A manhole left uncovered! She climbed the ladder, ignoring the groaning metal as she stepped up without hesitation. If she could just find people she would be safe. A crowd was what she needed. She was almost there when the ladder shuddered with a terrible clank and squeal. She felt the ladder breaking from the wall, having rusted some years without cleaning or reparation. She wasn't to the surface yet, but her fingers grabbed at the pavement and she begged for just a few seconds to get a good grip to climb up. The ladder shuddered again.

"Please…" she begged softly and with a heartbreaking desperation that seemed to go unheard as the ladder broke off below her. Her fingers dug into the pavement, but she was not high enough to get a good grip. She was slipping and she knew she was going to fall and then land on the ladder that just fell so she would probably die from the impact as it snapped her back or broke her leg. Either way made survival difficult for her. She fell silently, instinctively not wanting to attract the gunman's attention.

She hit something that almost seemed to cradle her, but then collapsed under her impact. She was on her back, but bent around something. She tried to stand and move away to see what it was she landed on because it certainly hadn't felt like a ladder to her. It seemed rather like a person and if it was the gunman she wanted to take advantage of his falling down. But it took her a moment to steady herself and when she turned, she saw the figure already seemed to have righted itself. She blinked convinced that she had hit her head.

What she was seeing was not human. Well, mostly not human. It was a sort of… turtleman. A very intense, intimidating turtleman. He did not hold a weapon that she could see, but his stance and his physique told her she did not want this creature as her enemy. It stood on two legs like a human and it wore a blue mask that covered its eyes. She saw the creature watching her as intently as she was watching him. She blushed slightly, imagining what she must look like. But she had certainly not gotten out of the woods yet, so she kept her movements slow and cautious. She was ready to bolt away the moment the opportunity presented itself. She was not entirely sure she was seeing what she was seeing.

Just then, she heard noises coming from the tunnel she had come from: grunting and a long sandpapery sound. Like something being dragged. Sure enough, within a moment another turtleman, this one with a red mask, came through the tunnel dragging the gunman. She took a quick deep breath to hide her shock. What if the gunman suddenly turned and shot her? What if he was only pretending? She took a step back without realizing it and attracted the red turtleman's attention. He glanced at her, clearly didn't think much of her and turned to the blue turtleman.

"Bag'im and tag'im?" He asked the blue turtleman with a rough, but genial timbre. Blue nodded.

"Hey guys, what's going on? I got a text-" Another turtleman! Purple mask. "Whoa." He said, looking at the man and then T'mana. "Are you alright?" The purple one asked. They were talking. Talking turtlemen. And this one was looking at her. Was it talking to her?

"I'm not hurt." She answered automatically. She didn't quite believe she was okay, so she felt her answer was safer.

"But not alright?" Purple asked, smiling slightly. She blinked. Another one entered from the tunnel in front of her.

"S'going on?" She let her eyes fall on the fourth turtleman. His mask was orange. How many were there? Purple apparently read her mind and answered her unasked question.

"Don't worry. There aren't any more. Just the four of us." He was still smiling a quiet smile which put her a little at ease. Only a little. They were all looking at her now. She returned their looks for only a moment before her eyes fell to the sewer floor. Then her eyes edged their way over to the collapsed gunman. Well, whatever they were, they weren't attacking her and they didn't seem like they were going to. Asking if she was alright hardly seemed a threatening gesture. They clearly seemed intelligent and understanding.

She was used to animals. It was part of her job to work with exotic and endangered species. But these were unlike anything she had ever seen before. She chanced a quick look at them, taking a quick glance at each one and they all seemed to be waiting and watching her. She realized they were feeling the same way about her. Surely, if she was actually seeing turtlemen, they would be concerned about who saw them and their reaction. Her heart had slowed noticeably and the sight of the incapacitated gunman cooled down her adrenaline flow that had pumped her muscles into action.

She looked up directly at the red one and spoke.

"Thank you." She pointed to the gunman. "For stopping him. I would be dead now if you hadn't." She didn't assume the red one did it on purpose, but she wanted to let him know her appreciation anyway.

"Don't worry about it." He said gruffly. She licked her lips and asked what she had wanted to know since she first saw the gunman's crumpled body.

"Is he…?"

"No." Blue answered firmly. "But he does have a date with the police. Raph?" Red smiled and began to drag the gunman away.

"With pleasure." Red growled and he was gone. She watched until she could no longer see the man anymore. She waited until the tip of his shoe was gone and she could hear the whisper of his dragging body in the distance. She exhaled in relief with him out of her sight and turned to the blue turtle.

"And you." She said. "Thank you. The fall would have killed me, too if you weren't there." Blue nodded solemnly.

"You're welcome." He answered. His voice was quiet but full of authority. Purple came forward and began to look at her as if she were a specimen in a cage. She turned and backed away, uncomfortable under his intrusive gaze. He stopped, realizing what he was doing and looked her in the face.

"Sorry!" He said and she could believe that he was. "I was just-" He stopped abruptly and looked closer at her face. Had they never seen humans before? Was she the first? She jerked back as he reached for her face. "Sorry." He said again, quietly. He actually sounded hurt. He pointed to his temple. "You're hurt." He explained.

"I'm not hurt." She echoed robotically the words from earlier.

"Right here." Again, he gestured to his own head and she felt compelled to touch her temple. She flinched when she felt pain flare up. She ran her finger over her temple a ways and found a long gash. She also felt a great deal of wetness and matted hair. In her panic and adrenaline infused flight, she hadn't felt the pain.

"Oh!" She whimpered weakly in shock as she felt her skull through a torn gap in her skin. She had kept herself on a peripheral angle to make herself a smaller target. As a result, none of them had seen the injury until the purple one had done a quick inspection of her.

"Guess you did hit your head when you fell." Blue said. Purple frowned as if disagreeing. She knew what it was and it made her ill. She had been shot. She had felt the bullet whiz by, but hadn't felt the bullet hit her as it grazed her skin and split it open.

"Maybe." She said quietly.

"Mind if I…?" Purple gestured to her wound.

"Is it, like, really bad?" Orange asked. Purple frowned at Orange.

"No. Mikey. She's going to be fine. Go see if Raph needs help."

"Kay…if you say so." Mikey bounded out of the tunnel and she was left with Blue and Purple.

"I just want to take a quick look. I promise I won't hurt you." Purple vowed. She didn't answer him, but turned her head allowing him access to her wound. He took the invitation and gently lifted her black hair out of the way to see the wound. He sighed. "That's not a blunt force wound." He intoned. "Looks more like a-" He stopped short when she pulled away and tucked her hair behind her ear. A nervous habit that was now rather painful.

"Bullet." She finished softly.

"If I could just-" Purple began, but Blue cut him off.

"Why was that man chasing you with a gun? Why was he shooting at you?"

"I…I saw something." She said. She blinked and saw the gunman shoot the man in the suit behind her eyelids. She opened them quickly.

"What did you see?" He was firm and demanding, but not cruel. She knew that he wanted to know if she was going to be a problem for him. She could sense now that he was a sort of leader and that he was looking out for the other three. She decided that strange as her situation was, his was stranger.

"I saw him kill a man." She explained. "He just…shot him. He just shot him." Her voice betrayed her fear with a haunted tone. She saw the blue one relax just a little bit.

"He can't hurt you now." Blue stated. He meant it to be comforting, but it came out annoyed.

"She needs help." Purple jumped in as he looked over at her. "We have bandages and disinfectant close by."

"No." Blue's voice rang out.

"Leo! She's hurt. This is a sewer. We have to prevent infection as soon as possible."

"Then bring the supplies here."

"I can't! I don't know everything that I'll need. After I clean it, she may need stitches, she may need butterfly bandages, staples…I don't know. I can't bring everything. We need to bring her to the supplies." Purple was not going to back down. T'mana realized that this creature was defending her against its leader and she felt a surge of gratitude.

"Fine!" Blue yelled, clearly not pleased but also not willing to listen to any more reasons. "But she has to be blindfolded."

"No!" It took a moment, but T'mana realized that she had voiced that opinion herself with a desperate plea. Both were looking at her now. Blue looked ready to throw up his hands and call it a night while Purple just looked confused. "I'll…just…go up." She pointed up stupidly. "To a doctor." She tried to explain. The thought of being blindfolded and led by strange creatures to an unknown destination was too much for her to bear. And every time she closed her eyes, she saw the man die.

"No." Purple said gently. "It's okay. I can treat you here and you won't be charged anything. I would feel better knowing you weren't wandering the streets with a bullet wound on your temple."

"Really." She insisted. "I don't want to be any trouble. You've saved my life and I appreciate that. I don't want to be-" Blue sighed deeply, cutting her off.

"No trouble." He said, defeated. "Donnie, take her. I'll follow."

A few minutes later T'mana found herself in what she heard them refer to as 'the lair'. It was a home. It even had a rug. She realized that these creatures had made a life for themselves down here and that Blue, Leo she had heard him called, was trying to protect his home. She certainly didn't blame him. But he couldn't have been less worried. T'mana knew how to mind her own business. Sometimes too well. She was so wrapped up in herself sometimes, she had to actually remind herself to ask other people questions about themselves. Like ask a co-worker how their weekend was or ask her mother how the doctor appointment went.

The one called Donnie, led her to a closed off area. It had a sort of sheet hanging down as a divider and when she had breezed through it, she realized that it was a sort of home-made emergency room and laboratory. It even had a bed. Which she was now sitting down on as she would as if in a real hospital. Donnie was on a roller stool and wheeling back and forth to gather supplies on a rolling tray that wheeled along with him. He turned back to her and handed her a hair tie.

"Try to pull it back and up as best you can." He said. But he stopped her. He only wanted part of it up. That way, nothing from the bottom pulled up and over the wound. She tried again and was successful. He now had a fairly clear view of the wound. She watched him and saw that he carefully dabbed at her wound trying to be as gentle as possible. It still hurt a great deal now that she was aware of it.

"So what's your name?" He asked conversationally. He had a very good bedside manner. Not like Leo, the blue one. He was very blunt and rigid from what she could tell. Even in the way he stood.

"You can call me, Tim. Everyone does." She said. It was automatic. Every time her name was asked, this was her response. Donnie kept cleaning the wound.

"Tim? That short for something?" She sighed. Every time someone asked that question.

"T'mana."

"Wow. That's really pretty." He enthused. She could tell he meant it, though. "Does it mean something?"

"Yeah. It means 'walk'."

"Wok? Like the kitchen utensil?" She laughed. She couldn't help herself. She had never heard that response before. And with the tension of the evening she had a very giddy response. Kind of like laughing at a funeral.

"No." She said, still chuckling. "Like walking. Like I walk to the store. " She sighed, but pleasantly instead of with exasperation. "My mom wanted me to walk and not run through life. Sort of like stop and smell the roses."

"Oh." He said thoughtfully, clearly thinking about her explanation. "I like that." He caught her eye. "But I guess you have to explain that to everyone who asks you, huh?"

"Yep. Ouch!"

"Sorry. I think I got some hair on that last pull. Okay, this is pretty clean now, but you're going to need stitches. Otherwise, it won't heal quickly and it'll get infected."

"Stitches?" Cleaning was one thing, but stitches were another. "I don't know…"

"I've done it loads of times. Even on myself once, see?" He pointed to his knee and she looked down closely at it. It did look really good. But…she also didn't know how big the wound was to start with. He noticed her hesitation. "Look around. All these books, I've read them all. And I've had my brothers for guinea pigs. I learn and then I can also apply it."

She did as he said and looked around. There were tons of medical books. She noted a few mechanical ones, too. She also saw a few stuffed animals on his desktop that seemed to have been operated on. She looked at him. He saw where her gaze came from and had the decency to look sheepish.

"Everyone has to start somewhere." He explained. "Mr. Bananas and Foximus had life threatening wounds and I rescued them." She raised an eyebrow. "Some dog tore them up and I sewed them back. They were too cute to throw away."

"Foximus?" She asked.

"I went through a Latin phase. You know, like all the kids do." She laughed again.

"Latin phase?" He lived in a sewer! How on earth did he learn Latin?

"Yeah…a lot of the medical and biology texts have Latin names. When I was younger though, I couldn't quite get it. So I figured 'fox' in Latin was Foximus. And I dare you to prove me wrong."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She put up her hands in mock defense and he smiled.

"So?" He lifted a needle questioningly. "What do you think?" She looked away, wishing for a private moment. Instead, she would have to suffice with no eye contact.

She caught her own eyes in a mirror that was behind Donnie. And for the first time since the morning, she saw herself. Her blouse and blazer were torn and smudged with dirt. Her hair was matted and nettled into a half bun. Her face was covered with dirt and small scratches from the brick walls she almost collided with. But the worst part was the dried cascade of blood that covered her ear and spilled onto her peachfuzz blazer and white blouse. She was like some other person. Her copper skinned neck had been wiped clean by Donnie as he checked to make sure there were no other injuries. The clean patch seemed to glow unnaturally amidst the chaos covering every other inch of her. She raised a hand to her ear as if that would make it more real, but was alarmed to see there was a spiderline crack of blood on the back of her hand where her skin split. The fall down the sewer the first time.

Donnie watched her think it over and saw her face change from contemplation to shock and then to quiet horror. He found her eyes and followed their gaze to her reflection.

"Once this is stitched up, it should only take a couple weeks to heal. And with your hair, no one will even see the stitches. One good shower will clean you right up and you'll be good as new." He encouraged. She looked over at him as if she forgot he was there. And she had, for a moment.

"Okay." She whispered. He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay?" He asked again, wanting it confirmed. She nodded her head.

"Stitch me up." He began to heat the needle to disinfect it.

"Okay," He agreed. "I'll need to shave a bit here." He pointed to her temple. "I don't want to get any hair caught when I sew up the wound. Okay?"

"Um…okay." That made sense. She had seen that before. Pre-surgery prep included shaving. She also knew that the longer hair on top would cover it once it was let down, so she could handle it.

Donnie was very gentle when he stitched her up. Taking care to explain every movement he made to keep her at ease. Once he finished her bullet wound, he moved on to her hand and then the light abrasions on her face. He was just finishing up when the Orange clad turtle popped its head in.

"Heya, Don." He said, taking a quick peek at T'mana.

"Hi, Mikey." Mikey seemed to sense that it was okay for him to enter and he stepped fully into the room to reveal his hands full of cloth. "This is my brother, Mikey." Donnie said. Mikey grinned at her in welcome.

"Thought you might wanna change." Mike motioned to her shirt. "The blood and all." As he spoke, he unrolled a long T-shirt that read 'There's no place like 1' The shirt was very large so she assumed it belonged to one of the turtles in order to fit around their shell. Judging by the embarrassed and slightly irritated look on Donnie's face, T'mana assumed it belonged to him.

"Someone a techie?" T'mana asked. Donnie's face immediately went from humiliation to pleasant surprise.

"You know what the shirt means?" He asked almost triumphantly as he shot Mikey a look that said 'ha!'

"Yeah…it's an IP address right? Like your computer web location or something? I'm not too technical, but I've seen the format."

"Yeah. It is an IP address. Anyway, April, a friend of ours, got it for me. I'm kinda the computer guy."

"And the doctor guy." She motioned to her stitches.

"Yeah, that too." T'mana stepped down from the edge of the bed she was sitting on and reached for the T-shirt from Mikey.

"Thanks, Michael." She said. Mikey chuckled and Donnie smiled trying not to laugh.

"What?" She asked. She looked down at herself to see what was so funny.

"Mikey." Donnie explained. "He doesn't go by Michael."

"Oh. Sorry! Mikey seems like something your family uses…" They laughed again.

"His actual full name is Michelangelo. Like the painter. So only our Father called him that. Or when he's in trouble. Everyone else calls him Mikey." Donnie explained again.

"Sorry." She knew how it could bug people when you used the wrong name. "Mikey then. And what about you?" She looked at Donnie.

"Donatello, but you can call me Don or Donnie."

"Donatello." She repeated to herself. She was seeing a pattern develop. She pointed to the curtain indicating what was beyond it. "Let me guess, Leonardo?" Don nodded. "And...Raf…" She struggled for the other name.

"Raphael." Mikey supplied.

"Raphael!" She whisper shouted. It had been on the tip of her tongue.

"What?" A face peaked through the curtain. A green face with a red mask. His face was twisted in a grimace of annoyance.

"Hey, Raph. This is T'mana." Donnie introduced. Raph stepped in and looked her up and down.

"Yeah. I remember. What was the name?" He asked. He sounded irritated that her name was not normal.

"You can just call me Tim." She offered. Raph wrinkled his nose.

"Tim? Whatever works for you." Raph turned to Don. "Just dropped the package off. He's in custody. He won't be able to walk outta this one." T'mana listened to his words and it took a moment to understand what he had said.

"He's caught? In custody?" Raph turned to her again.

"That's what I said. I left the gun there so they'll be able to nail your guy."

"Did you see a purse?" Her question caught everyone off guard.

"What? A purse?…No. I wasn't lookin' for no purse."

"It would have really stood out. It was…like a lime green color about this big." She held her hands wide enough to indicate the size of a brief case. Raph looked at her hands as if it were the purse itself.

"No…nothin' like that. There wasn't anythin' on the ground except the dead guy." She let her hands slowly drop to her sides. In her mind, that meant one of two things. One: some random person stole her purse when they found it or Two: the gunman's coworker or boss found it and now had her information. Her wallet. Her address. She visibly paled and looked around at the grim faces around her. They all came to the same conclusion she had.

"I'll be right back." Donnie said. Leaving her with Raph and Mikey.

Leo was sitting rigidly on the couch and seemed to be having some internal conflict.

"Leo," Donnie called and Leo turned to look at Don.

"I heard." Leo said. He sighed. "She can't go back home." Donnie nodded his agreement. "Ask her if she has somewhere else she can stay tonight. A friend or relative's or something."

"Okay. What if she has nowhere to go?"

"Nowhere to go? Pretty girls like that always have friends, Donnie. She'll have somewhere she can go."

"What if she doesn't?" Donnie pressed. Leo huffed in annoyance.

"Fine. If she doesn't, which she will, she can stay the night. But only the night. We're not a hotel."

"I'll go ask." Donnie was not shocked at his brother's coldness. They had tried trusting humans before, but always with disastrous consequences. April and Casey were really the only successful human friends they had. They had learned their lesson. Don knew that Leo didn't like being unfeeling, but also knew that Leo held the fate of the clan on his shoulders. He never questioned his brother's judgment, but would ask him to explain it if he didn't agree and Leo always had a good defense for his reasoning. Don walked in and saw T'mana conversing with his brothers. Raph was leaning on the desk and Mikey was sitting on the bed, swinging his legs talking animatedly about a purse-snatcher he took out the other night.

"So you guys do this a lot? Stop…um…the bad guys?" She asked. Raph shrugged lazily.

"Gives us somethin' to do." When Don stepped in, T'mana's attention went directly to his face and she was clearly waiting for a response. He cleared his throat.

"I think that you shouldn't go home tonight. And Leo agrees." He added quickly. "Someone has your purse and probably saw the man, so it would be safer for you not to go home." He waited a moment. "Do you have friends nearby? Or family?" T'mana shook her head.

"I just moved here last week."

"That's lucky." Raph said. "So your stuff has your old address on it." T'mana looked sheepish.

"No…I...well, I already updated that. I did it yesterday."

"You got it changed already? You didn't have anything more important to do than stand in line at the DMV?"

"I…don't like when things aren't …in order." She started to shift uncomfortably. This was getting a little personal for her. She was very regimented. Her time compunction was but one of her oddities. She had to have everything match when it was supposed to. She had done her address changes on everything the same day: credit cards, bank statements, bills, insurance, all of it. In fact, she did most of it online from her laptop as she waited at the DMV.

"It doesn't matter." Donnie stated firmly, glaring at Raph. He turned back to T'mana. "Do you have anywhere you can go?" She thought a moment.

"My mom." Her eyes bugged. "Omigsoh! My mom! She's going to be frantic. I was supposed to Skype with her tonight. She's probably freaking out because I'm not answering my phone."

"Where is your mom?" Donnie asked, trying to keep on task a little bit.

"Jersey. Only a few hours from here." Don looked at the clock and it showed that it was now after midnight. It had taken a few hours to clean and stitch the wound. Jersey was not going to happen tonight. "I can take a…well…maybe a…" She had been about to say bus and then cab, but she realized both required money and she had none. She couldn't walk to Jersey. The irony of her name was not lost on her.

"Do you have a car?" Don asked.

"No…but I can call a taxi. I can have my Mom pay when I get there." She was relieved she thought of that.

"No. It's very late. You'll stay here the night and tomorrow we'll figure out how to get you to your mother's safely." Donnie said as Leo walked in.

"No…really. I'll find a way-"

"Don't be ridiculous." Leo stated. There wasn't animosity, but certainly an edge that indicated she should not question his decision. "Jersey is too far to go at this time of night. It's late and we're all tired from the events of the day. Let's just call it a night."

"You can use my bed." Donnie offered to ease his brother's stiffness.

"No!" She protested. "No. The couch will be fine." She sensed it before she heard it…the anger from Leo and from Raph. Raph held his tongue, though. Leo didn't.

"Don't want to sleep where we've been?" He asked through gritted teeth. She was horrified at the accusation. And she noticed Raph shoot his brother a quizzical look. Even to her, it seemed something more likely that he would say instead of Leonardo. But she kept calm. She was good at that most of the time.

"Are you saying that you've never slept or sat on the couch?" She let her comment sit in the air for a moment before continuing. "Look, you guys have saved my life, twice," She indicated Raph and Leo. "Three times." She corrected, pointing at Donnie. "Infection could have killed me. And now you're letting me stay in your home. The last thing I want to do is inconvenience you anymore by taking your bed. And I prefer couches anyway when it isn't my bed. So really, the couch is perfect."

Leo watched her for a moment, his face inscrutable.

"Don," He said finally. "Go get some blankets and a pillow for our guest, please." Don scooted out to do as requested. "You'll want to sleep as soon as you can. We're early risers." Then Leo turned on his heel and left. To her, the message was clear. 'We are not changing our schedule for you.' And that was fine by T'mana. She knew she wouldn't sleep tonight anyway. After everything that happened, she knew she would be reliving every moment and it would keep her awake. Also, she slept terrible when it wasn't her bed. Another oddity of hers. She knew she was borderline OCD with her habits. She had to have things a certain way or it would bother her and drive her to distraction. Hotels were not an option for her. In fact, her place right now was taking some getting used to and it was her bed!

"Leonardo!" She suddenly called out. She clapped her hand on her mouth. She hadn't meant to shout, but it had certainly got his attention. He whirled around, a fierce look on his face. Not angry, but predatory somehow. She recoiled instinctively. "My mom." She began, her voice soft to ease her discourtesy. "I need to call her. She's probably scared to death and working herself into a panic."

Leo looked heavenward as if to ask why he had been saddled with this troublesome female. Then he turned and walked away. She let her jaw drop ever so slightly in shock. It was really rude and she didn't think that she was asking anything outrageous. She just needed to get to a phone to calm her mother down. She was beginning to imagine how tomorrow would be when she walked into her mother's home. The insanely long and emphatic lecture she would receive. But Leonardo came back in and stopped right in front of her, holding something out in his hand. She looked down at it and she swore he was holding a small turtle.

She really thought she was losing her mind. Had she fallen asleep? Was this some sort of cryptic message her unconscious was trying to tell her? What the heck did it mean when a giant mutant turtle held a tiny natural turtle in its palm? Progression…or maybe evolution-

"You'll want to take the phone if you want to make a call." Leo interrupted her thoughts abruptly. He sounded very irritated. Phone? She reached out and took the object delicately and realized that it was a small cell phone with a shell pattern on in. But it was kind of round so she didn't think this was the kind of phone you could purchase in a store. Did Don make this? She remembered all the medical books, but also all the mechanical ones and wondered at his genius and then pitied the fact that it was so hidden from the world.

She held it in her hand and looked at it then turned it over and looked at it again. Everyone was watching her and she felt very idiotic. The phone was childproof. She didn't even see a seam to pull at, so how the heck did it open? Leonardo rolled his eyes, took the phone back in one swift movement and flipped it open so fluidly T'mana didn't see how it was done and then he thrust it back at her. She took it gingerly and inspected it again seeing, with relief, that it now looked like a normal phone with a typical keypad. She dialed her mother's number and held it to her ear. Abruptly, she left the group of turtles and stepped back behind the sheet for privacy. The phone didn't pick up. Her mother was either asleep or screening her calls. T'mana guessed she wouldn't be sleeping. Voicemail.

"Mom, if you're there-"

"T'mana? Is that you?"

"Yes-"

"Oh, you've had me so worried! Are you okay? Why didn't you show up for Skype, did you forget? Why didn't you call? Why haven't you been answering your cell? I've been worried sick! I thought you might be dead in a ditch somewhere! Are you okay, Cante?" She waited while her mother continued a moment more, and then jumped in when her mother took a breath.

"I'm fine. I had a little accident, but I'm fine."

"Accident? What kind of accident?"

"I fell down a sewer." She figured the truth would be the best answer, but she would leave out some details for her mother's sanity.

"Down a…my goodness! Don't they put signs around open manholes? Isn't that a law? How can they just-"

"Mom!" T'mana interrupted. "There were signs. I missed them and fell down the manhole. It's just an accident."

"Are you okay?" Her mother asked quietly.

"Yes. Just needed a few stitches. I'm calling from an emergency room now." Technically she was. She didn't need to tell her mom that the emergency room was not in a hospital but a home in the sewer.

"That must be why the number came up funny on my caller ID. Are you using the hospital phone?"

"Yes." She lied. She hated to lie, but there was no way around that one. "It must be."

"How many stitches?"

"Nine I think."

"My poor little girl. I'm so glad you called. I was so worried. I hate you being alone in the big dark city with the Wasitchu."

"Mom!" T'mana said sharply. "Enough of that. People are people. White or red. Besides, you married a white guy. Remember? Dad?"

Her mother had been raised on a Lakota Sioux reservation in South Dakota near the Black Hills, the most sacred area to the Sioux. So her mother had been brought up with a strong spiritual background. A legacy that she had turned her back on when she was twenty for a dashing young Irish man who was passing through on his way to the East Coast. T'mana's father must have been very debonair and charming because only after a week of knowing each other, her mother ran off with him and ended up settling down in New Jersey. The family had essentially disowned her after that. But she didn't care; she was in love. Months later, T'mana was on the way and her Irish father drowned while trying to save someone from a sinking car that had run off the road into the Hudson. Her mother felt a strong pull back to the roots of her people after her husband died, but still named her daughter T'mana because it was the name they had both agreed on before he died. T'mana's mother knew she could not return to the reservation and did not attempt to do so, but made sure to raise T'mana with Sioux tradition and spirituality. T'mana felt that her mind was American, but her soul and spirit were Sioux. After all, T'mana was almost pure Sioux except for her father's blood. Her ancestors could be traced back hundreds of years and while it crossed many Sioux and Lakota tribes, it did not have any Wasitchu blood until T'mana.

"Yes." Her mother sighed fondly. "Your father was a good man. The Turtle spirit walked with him."

"What?" T'mana blurted; startled by the word 'turtle'.

"That was your father's Spirit Guide. Of course I knew that before he tried the Vision Quest. He had all the traits of Brother Turtle."

"Traits?" T'mana asked, curious but also very self conscious. She was aware that four turtle creatures were listening to her end of the conversation.

"Yes. T'mana do you remember nothing of your Spirit Guides?"

"I kind of forgot some. Remind me."

"Brother Turtle is slow and sturdy. He does not rush into a task. Turtles live long so he symbolizes longevity and persistence. Brother Turtle's shell also indicates protection of himself and others. Your father was all those things, T'mana. I wish you could have known him." They both fell silent. T'mana both mourned her unknown father and wondered at the coincidence of the conversation. T'mana was a practical woman of the modern age, but she also knew there were things beyond the Known and things that could not be explained. What were the odds that four giant turtles would save her and the same night her mother would speak of the Turtle spirit of protection? Was it a sign? What did it mean?

"I remember now." T'mana said.

"No you don't." Her mother chuckled. "But I love you anyway." The words caught her off guard and her throat closed up and her eyes brimmed with emotion.

"I love you too, Mom." And she meant it. For so long she had pushed her mother away trying to be her own woman, but right now she needed her mom and wished that she could feel her mother's arms around her as her mother whispered in her ear that everything would be all right. "Can I come see you tomorrow?" It worked in perfectly. Her mother wouldn't question it.

"Of course! You don't need to ask, T'mana. You can always come to see me." T'mana felt the tears slowly run down her face in sheer gratitude to her mother.

"Tomorrow then. Toksha akhe."

"Toksha akhe." Her mother repeated, and T'mana could hear the pride and approval in her mother's voice for the Lakota words. That roughly translated to 'see you later' because the Lakota never said goodbye so there was no word in their language for it. In this world or the next, they would see you again.

T'mana clicked the 'end' button and went back around the curtain to see them all standing looking everywhere but at her. Clearly they had heard every word she had spoken. But she was not embarrassed. She held out the phone to Leonardo.

"Thank you." She intoned huskily. Her voice was thick with emotion from her call. He took the cell phone from her and slid it shut without a word. But she felt that his movements held less hostility than they had a few moments ago. He nodded and then turned around and walked to a wooden stairwell as if the entire phone issue hadn't taken place at all.

Mikey bubbled a good night to her and Raph grumbled and waved a little as he walked out. Donnie was at the couch making it into a bed as much as he could. He was even tucking in the blanket under the cushions. When he finished, he surveyed his work and then turned to see her standing there.

"Good night." He said hopefully.

"Thank you very much." She returned in earnest. "You've been very kind to me. Thank you." People weren't often nice to her, so she wanted to let him know that she appreciated it. While T'mana was not a 'people' person, she had no qualms expressing herself most of the time. She did get flustered when she had to explain some of her quirks though. Because she knew there was no real logic or necessity she found her eccentricities embarrassing. There were only two people in the world who knew about her desperate need to have all the cans in her cupboard lined and facing frontwards and by category. Her mother and her boyfriend. Both currently resided in Jersey. Her boyfriend, Michael Gaius, wasn't coming out for another two weeks. His transfer was later than hers.

"You're welcome." Donnie said shyly. "If you get cold, there's an extra blanket right here." He smiled as he pointed her in the direction of the bathroom so she could change into the shirt and sweat pants Mikey had brought for her. When she was done, she tucked herself in. Donnie noticed and then turned out the light.

She lay there on the couch with the tucked in blankets and stared up at the ceiling that was the underbelly of the city. It was suffocatingly dark. The dark almost seemed a physical presence that wrapped around her eyes like a thick cloth of velvet. It gave the impression of having her eyes closed while they were, in fact, open. This meant she saw the events of this evening with startling clarity and couldn't shake the images.

She turned on her side and closed her eyes tight and pushed her face into the pillow Don had brought to her. She hoped it would block out the images, but she would see little bursts still. A flash of the brick wall after the gun had fired. The man on the ground with no face. She decided to count. Her mother taught her to count up to five hundred in Lakota, the Sioux language, which had helped T'mana in the past to focus on the numbers and not the worries of her day. When she counted in English, her mind wandered and it defeated the purpose. She tried to use the trick now and was grateful that her mother had taught her. She wasn't trying to sleep so much as get her mind to stop thinking about anything except the Lakota numbers.

She had almost counted up to five hundred for the second time when she did close her eyes and slip into unconsciousness.

Cante - means 'heart', a pet name

Wasichu - a 'derogatory' term for white people, non-native americans