A/N: Hello everyone! We have another TMNT story!

Pen: This is going to become a thing, isn't it?

Sword: Got that right!

This is based off of BrushBell's "Unexpected Guest" comic on deviantart. Be sure to check it out.

Sword: It's very cute!

We obtained permission from her to create a story for it. So without further ado, TMNT and all related material belongs to Peter Laird, Kevin Eastman, and Nickelodeon. The story idea and conception belongs to BrushBell. Sword and Pen belong to me. Please do not use this story without permission. Thank you.

Unexpected Guest

April shot up straight in bed, on the edge of screaming. When she blinked rapidly and the bleary bedroom came into focus, she found herself back in bed. No Kraang. No innocents transformed into hideous mutants. Only the peace and serenity of the farmhouse and surrounding woods.

She pulled her legs to her chest, very cold despite the summer night and her long pajama pants. A dream, she realized, struggling to control her gasping breaths. That's all. A dream.

She shook her head. No, a nightmare. Ever since she escaped New York with the turtles and Casey, she had often relived the horrible Kraang invasion, replaying the scenes over and over in her mind of her friends, neighbors, and father covered in mutagen, changing into horrible monstrosities.

Dad. Even now, the nightmare haunted her. She could almost see the last scene before she violently awoke. Reaching out for her father from the Party Wagon before he was dumped with the glowing slime. His hand fumbles for her as the Kraang soldiers march on the streets, laser guns targeting all life. Spaceships above destroying the city, decimating block after block, building after building blown to smithereens.

Then her father's head emerges from the mutagen, his eyes flashing white like a lightbulb shining where his brain should be. And his skin darkens to a purple-pink color before she loses him. Again. Again, he's a walking terror, sightless alien eyes, two mouths with razor sharp teeth, and painful screams that morph into obedient shrieks for the Kraang.

April shivered underneath the blanket. It was almost like a running joke of the universe that as soon as she had her father back, she lost him almost immediately. The moonlight cast all kinds of shadows in her room, some like the long, misshapen limbs of her mutated father. She flung the blanket off her and swung her feet to the floor, the cold wood chilling her further.

Dragging her feet, April went downstairs to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and sipped it. It helped a little, but not much. As she headed back for the stairs, she caught Raphael and Casey, zonked out on the sofa and some bad action movie on the television. Just like the lair. Just like home.

While the nights were hard with their constant reminders of the Kraang invasion, she looked forward to the days. Especially since she had the turtles and Casey with her. It gave her a semblance of normalcy. All of them had tried to help each other cope. Raphael often gave long training sessions, his inexhaustible nature allowing him to spar with everyone and keep their minds occupied. Casey helped as well, perking April up in his own way and familiar antics. And it was always nice to have another friendly face around.

She passed Michelangelo's room on the way back to hers. He snored loudly and curled up with a teddy bear. She shook his head as he buried his face into his drool-stained pillow. Whether asleep or awake, he brought a grin to everyone during their most troubling times.

Down the hall, Leonardo's bedroom was shut tight. She crept past him to her own room. Leonardo was healing, but slowly. She was happy he was awake from his temporary coma. Although injured, he maintained his strong leadership and managed everyone's training, giving them a sense of direction and overall progress.

When she reached her bedroom, she couldn't bring herself to turn the doorknob. More unpleasant dreams awaited her within. More reminders ready to fill her every thought.

Off to the side, a light poured out of a cracked door. Donnie. She dropped her hand and shuffled to his door. Inside, the turtle sat in bed, propped against the headboard. He yawned and scribbled on a sheet of paper. Then he brightened the lamp on his nightstand and stretched his feet under his own blanket. He cracked his neck and resumed his work. April leaned on the doorframe and a half-smile traced her lips.

Out of everyone there, Donatello worked the hardest to give her a sense of stability. Raphael often cared for Leonardo and hung around Casey during downtimes. Michelangelo went off by himself to play his own games, relaxed with Ice Cream Kitty, or annoyed his brothers. And Casey focused on tuning the Party Wagon, proving himself to be quite the mechanic.

But Donatello's every waking moment not spent training was used comforting April or working on an anti-mutagen formula when they eventually returned to New York City. Whether it was in a friendly smile, a snack, some encouragement during training, or lending a sympathetic ear when she talked to him, he was there for her. Always, unfailing.

Her mind more alert, she had noticed that he committed himself to her well-being and her happiness above all, despite her often rejecting his advances. He constantly put her before himself and proved to be more than a close friend. Even as everyone slept, he burned the midnight oil to create the anti-mutagen, partly to cure April's father for her sake. She knew as much and was very grateful. He really did care for her and his tireless work lessened the dread from her nightmare. She believed that he would find a solution somehow and be able to reverse the mutagen effects. Or she sincerely hoped so.

Without thinking, her feet carried her to his bedside and she sat next to him. He stopped muttering the solutions to his calculations and looked up, surprised to see her there. A pink tinge rushed to his cheeks and any other time, she would have found it endearing. Just being beside him helped ease the fear and pain. He was special to her after all and she was drawn to him.

Right now, a great need struggled in her chest. She lifted the blanket and curled up into his stomach. The plastron, as he had told her. It was softer than his shell. Unlike with the others, she felt completely as ease this close to him. Safe, protected, and free. Free to be herself without worry.

Donatello was more nervous and his whole body stiffened. He dropped his pencil and paper, stammered, and made all sorts of unintelligible babbles above her, unable to say her name. "Wh-Wh? Ap-Apr?" She could only imagine his beet red face.

He soon stopped and lifted her bangs, looking at her. But she closed her eyes and the nightmare came swarming back to her. While she acted fine, the stress was too much for her alone and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She had to let loose, at least this once. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks and racked her body. She bit her trembling lip and buried her face further into Donatello.

He stayed still at first as she wet the plastron. But like always, he knew what to do, what she needed. Without a word, he wrapped his long, large arms around her, holding her face to his chest. He rubbed her back, soothing her sobs, and warming her immensely. Donatello ran his other hand through her hair, nuzzling and planting a gentle kiss in the middle. As he switched off the lamp and pulled the blanket higher over them, she returned the kiss to his shoulder. Soon, she drifted off to sleep. A peaceful sleep with no more nightmares, only cozy and comfortable in the arms of the closest person to her. Her mutant.

A/N: That…was a bit shorter than I thought it would be. But please, let us know what you think of it.

Sword: And check out BrushBell's piece!

Yes, please do so. We tried to keep the talking to a minimum, much like she did. Hopefully, it worked well. Let us know in a review and thank you for reading.

Pen: Good riddance. Now let's get out of here. I want to get some sleep.

Sword: Wanna cuddle with me?

Pen: No.