A/N: You may want to read the prequel to this story, TMNT Onkei, before reading this, but you will still understand what's going on if you don't, you just won't have the backstory of why Raph was watching her. There are a string of one-shots tied to this series, all of which are listed, in order, on my profile page.

Please note the turtles are adults in this series and my OC, Zoë's, story is a dark one.

Also I'd like to extend a special thank you to my beta, Illusionna.

Zoe

If I could just control myself. Inhale. Forget my past. Exhale. Maybe I can find some relief. Inhale. Exhale through your nose. Start with your breathing. Always breathe. In. Out. I close my eyes, sit in easy pose, and begin again.

It's getting dark.

Heaving a sigh, I glare helplessly at the darkening smog covering the New York City skyline. As I rise to my feet on my yoga mat, I reach over and pick up the silver Zippo. There's a candle at each corner of my mat for this very reason. I light them quickly.

I'm not done working out yet. I knew I got started late but I did have to wait until I got off work and the rooftop seemed safer than the park. I wanted to be close to nature, as close as someone can get in the concrete jungle anyway. Outside worked for me. Forget a damn gym. I'd have to deal with all those people. I get enough of that shit at work all day and retail is ridiculous.

Returning to my mat and grounding myself in a tree pose, I practice with my eyes closed. I'm certain of where the earth is, I don't need to look around. What I need is focus. I've got this, I'm grounded. Sort of, I mean I know where I am. I just can't control… certain aspects... of myself. What chakra is that?

Everything I know I'm in conflict with. I can't analyze myself and there are parts of me that I'm afraid of. What pose will help with that? I spread my feet and raise my arms parallel to the ground beneath me, straight arms, relaxed but strong shoulders, warrior II. Bending my front knee I push forward, sinking deeper in the pose. Breathe.

As another breeze sweeps over my skin, the hairs on my arms raise. There's a lot of extra energy in the air... Someone's watching me. Breathe. I open my eyes only to close them again, listening, deeper, now feeling. Reach past the smells of pollution, fast food, the dirt on the rooftop and my own sweat. Turn inward, deeper still, beyond the sound of sirens wailing in the distance, past the cars rushing by on the street below, past the pigeon nesting in the chimney to my left, and even my own rhythmic heartbeat.

Be still, deeper, life forces, feel, sense, and detect. Breathe.

There's more than one being on the roof with me. I can hear shushing, elbowing, shuffling. I move from warrior II to downward dog and take it through a chaturanga. All the while, I'm breathing and listening. I sit in lotus and listen. Breathe. Energy is radiating toward me, my skin tingles in response. I don't sense evil. It feels more like… curiosity. I hear another set of feet hit the rooftop behind me. There you are…

Welcome back, my mysterious big guy. You gonna finally show yourself tonight, maybe talk to me for once?

I feel the vibrations of a raised temper radiate towards me. I don't know if it's directed at me but I can sense the tension. Guess I better get to my feet at least. I stand at the front of my mat, still in tune with the life in the air around me as I slip my feet into my walking sneakers. I hear one shuffle, two, three, followed by the rhythmic retreating clinks and groans of the metal fire escape.

I freeze, watching the candlelight flicker and protest to go out. There's still one left. The angry one. The mystery man. My shoulders tense in protest under my watchers steady gaze. What do you want? I spin around and let me eyes run from one side of the rooftop to the other. I won't be a damn victim. Not anymore. Never again. Breathe. Just breathe.

Do you sense evil? No. And you haven't from him yet. Just attitude. Well, hell. I've got one of those, too.

Still facing the direction of my watcher, I pull my red hair back up into a pony-bun. Too much of that shit got in my face during my practice. If anything does happen, I don't want it in the way. I grab my towel from my pink gym bag and dab my face, hands, and abdomen, then straighten the straps on my black sports bra and shove the towel back in the bag, feeling around the bottom of it for a tiny bit of reassurance.

There's a shift in energy now, away from my watcher and toward me. My stomach twists in an uneasy knot. The temperature seems to drop, but that could be my body's take on the shift. A cruel wind rushes past, blowing my tiny candles out. As the flames extinguish, I'm blanketed with evil intentions.

Damn.

I turn my back on my watcher and face a half-dozen men dressed head to toe in black.

I'm not going to fight anyone. I'm not going to hurt anyone. Please, I don't want to hurt anyone.

Okay, well then, how are you going to get away because they're blocking the damn door?

I feign a smile as I struggle with the beast within me, "Excuse me, please. Sorry, I didn't know the roof would be this busy this time a night." As I move to pick up my yoga mat, each member of my company steps into a fighting stance.

Really?

They move in closer.

Well, I'm not going back and I'm sure that's why you're here.

I flip backwards kicking the one closest to me in the head. As I land next to my stuff, I grab a candle, chucking it into the face of another. Shit. There's more than six, they're everywhere. Snatching up my bag I slip my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around a dagger. Yikes, that's a foot coming at my face! Duck! I shove the bag into the face of another attacker. Sweep that leg! Duck, spin, punch, kick, duck. Placing the sheath of the dagger in my mouth, I release the blade. Ducking the blow of my next assailant, I spin kick two more, one in the chest and another in the head. Lunging at the next one closest to me, I slit his throat releasing a rush of thick hot liquid over my hand. I glance at the blood on my hands and surrender to the haze.

XXX

I don't know how long I've been out, but my sense of touch has returned first. I remain still, feeling softness beneath my body. Scents join me next. The air smells like lavender, chamomile, rose otto, and damn clary sage. I love my essential oils but clary sage is strong and I always use too much. I'm home. But I don't move yet, because I can hear voices.

"We need to go."

"This place is gon be crawlin wit cops."

"She has a lot of scars."

"So do we, what's that got ta do wit anythin?"

"It's just an observation."

"Dude, she's so hot."

These are the four that have been watching my practice night after night for the past month. I just know it. I try not to, but a groan escapes my lips.

"Shhh, she's waking up."

"You, shhh."

"Get your hand outta my face,"

"Shhh."

"You, shhh."

I can't help the chuckle that leaves my throat as I open my eyes to the unlit room. There's a bright light beaming in my eyes from a headlamp attached to the head of a giant turtle leaning over me.

I blink to make sure I'm seeing correctly.

I am.

A giant turtle.

Well, why not? I've seen crazier things.

I wonder if their story is anything like my own.

I squint, "Do you mind?"

"Her pupils are reactive. No concussion. She's fine." His gentle, amber colored reptilian eyes search my face and he looks away to his companions behind me. I sit up as he stands and look over the back of my tan couch to three more only slightly different in build and height.

They're standing in the shadows of the room, one near the kitchen, one near the hallway, and the smallest one is moving towards my face, quickly. He leans over the back of the couch staring me in the eyes, "Hey Babe, I'm Mikey."

His brilliant blue eyes are mesmerizing.

"She's looking at us like we're freaks," the angry one growls.

Mikey glances at the red masked turtle, "Forget that, why isn't she screaming?" then his eyes dart back to me as his orange mask lifts expectantly, "Why aren't you screaming? I mean not that we want you to, but it's kinda par for the course."

I can feel four sets of eyes on me as a small smile plays on my lips. "I've seen weirder," I say dismissively before shifting my gaze away from his beautiful blue eyes, to look back at the bitter red clad turtle.

He's massive. The largest of the four and although I can't see his face clearly, his body language is threatening. But for some reason, he does not scare me, not one bit. It's probably because he's been on my rooftop so much over the past month. I mean, if he was going to hurt me, surely he would've by now. I finally understand why he wouldn't talk to me and why he never showed himself. All of this, giant turtle business, would freak out any normal human. My heart skips a beat as I realize, I finally get to look at him.

Standing up on my couch, I climb mindlessly over the back of it, "Excuse me for a minute, Mikey. It's very nice to meet you." My fingers brush his green skinned arm lightly as I let my hand fall back to my side.

"But, wait-what do you mean weirder?"

I barely hear Mikey's voice as I drift toward the angry turtle.

The terrapin with a mask, the color of his temper, sees that I'm moving in his direction and stands up straighter, crossing his massive arms as he leans against the wall near my kitchen. I stop right in front of him, looking up and into his eyes. They're green, I can see now, in the light coming from the kitchen stove. He's so freaking big! The energy radiating off him lights a fire inside me as like recognizes like and my heart is pounding as I step up on my tiptoes to get a closer look at him.

"What are you doin?" His green eyes glare into my own grays. "Need a closer look at the freak?"

If you only knew what I've seen, what I know, what I am.

"Don't put words in my mouth," I say clearly, lifting my chin and tilting my head as I search his eyes. They're the clearest green, and as big as he is, as hard as he's trying to be, they betray him. Warmer waters lie just beneath that thin layer of ice, I can sense it. As I take in the broad green face, and blunt snout, scarred and baring a bitter expression, I'm overcome with the urge to touch him, not only to know what his skin feels like but everything I will learn about him the moment I do. This is so wrong Zoe, he's a total stranger! I know that if I do this, he's going to start thinking I'm the freak, but then that's not entirely untrue. My breath catches in my throat as my fingertips reach for his cheek.

He growls.

I'm snatched from behind before my fingers meet his emerald green skin. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a clear, calm voice says.

As I'm set back on my feet near the front door, I find myself facing a blue masked turtle with eyes the same color as his bandanna. His mouth curves into a small smile and he bows a bit at me, "I'm Leonardo. These are my brothers. Donatello examined you," I look over at the purple clad turtle with the headlamp. He's tall, as tall as the angry one, only leaner. He smiles a warm, honest smile and bows like his brother.

"You've met Michelangelo," the smallest turtle grins and waves a green three fingered hand. He's adorable. His blue eyes are sweet and mischievous, his orange bandanna perfectly matching his cheerful demeanor. They're obviously younger than the other two and friendly. "And then there's Raphael, who you shouldn't touch."

"I'm Zoe," I murmur as my eyes settle back on Raphael's green gems and I smile at him. His eye ridges rise and fall as he glares at me. I scoff. He may be bigger than me, but damn, I might be looking in a mirror. Of course he's a turtle and I'm somewhat human, but it's the spirit behind those eyes. That I understand. My breath is trapped in my throat. He's staring at me and I'm staring at him.

"Okay, well this isn't awkward at all," Donatello says taking steps toward the window.

"Dude, she's into Raph. Wow." Mikey laughs as he slipped by me, right into my kitchen. "Got anything to eat?"

I'm focused on Raphael, searching him, seeing him and something tells me he's seeing me too. As his brother moves past us, Raphael's hand flies up and smacks Mike in the back of the head, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Enough. Do you realize what you did up there on the roof tonight?" Leonardo's voice is right behind me now.

The night's events snap to the forefront of my mind. "Oh, no." I drop to my knees between Raphael and Leonardo, sinking my fingers into the plush carpet, gripping the floor as if it will ground me. I lift my hands, holding them in front of my face and turning them. "Where's the blood?"

"I cleaned it off of you. I threw the towels into a trash bag. We'll take it with us when we leave." Donatello stood to my right side now.

"You killed every one of them. Every. Last. One," Leonardo stated.

I stare into my hands, the turtle's legs around me a blur of green. "I know. It happens. Every-"

"Lemme talk to her," Raphael finally speaks, "Alone." He's looking down at me.

Leonardo seems surprised, "Are you sure?"

"Why not? He's been stalking her for weeks." Mikey shrugs as he appears behind Donatello munching on a bag of potato chips.

Leonardo groans, "Very funny Mikey."

Raphael's weight shifts slightly as Donatello nods, "Allow me," then elbows his little brother.

"Ow. Dude, that's not cool." Mikey shoves another handful of chips in his mouth as he leans towards my face, "Do you mind if I finish these?"

"Help yourself, Mike," I mumble, closing my eyes and feeling the curl come on. My arms instinctively wrap around my legs and I rest my face on my knees.

"Go on. I've got this."

"You're sure?" Leonardo asks again, but I can hear him moving towards my living room window.

"Go."

I hear them leave, but I'm still curled up. I'm upright, just wrapped around myself, holding myself together. If I don't, my emotions will overtake me and the dam might break.

He slides his shell down the wall and rests on the floor. We sit there in silence for what feels like forever, but is probably more like five minutes. I can feel him looking at me and while he does, I'm listening to his steady deep breathing and finding it soothing.

"So, you gon' talk to me, or what?" he asks.

Forcing myself to move, I scoot over to lean against the back of my couch, facing him. "You guys have been coming to my roof top every night for the past month. I've felt you there. They leave when I'm putting my stuff away, but you stay."

His breathing quickens a bit before he growls. "I don' know what you're talkin' bout'." He moves like he is going to get to his feet, "Leo was right. He shoulda stayed insteada me."

Good job Zoe, you've embarrassed him. God, my social skills suck, not that his seem to be much better. As his weight, shifts my heart sinks because I'm about to be alone again, and I realize that not only do I not want that, but I want to know him, and if he leaves now, I'm sure I'll never see him again.

"Wait." I reach out a hand to him but stop myself, Leo's voice in my head. And we are back to staring at each other. He settles back on the floor.

"Well?"

"Well what?" I ask him, my palms sweating. I have never looked in someone's eyes and just understood them, not like this. Never, and I'm- well who I am.

"Ya went nuts up there. Why's the Foot lookin for you, why'd ya kill all of'em when you coulda just put'em down and where'd ya learn to fight?" He is studying me too. I feel his eyes scan my body, stare at my red hair, then settle back on my eyes.

"They attacked me, remember? Why do you get to ask me questions about me but I can't ask any about you?" I moved to my knees and scooted closer to him.

He growled again.

"Really?" Is that going to be his response to everything he doesn't like? Growling? Even better, is it supposed to scare me? Whatever. I found myself managing to suppress a laugh but somehow a snort still escapes me.

He seemed surprised by my reaction and stared at me for a minute then his lips parted, "Fine. You ask one, I ask one."

I stand up and lean on the wall next to him then slid down to sit beside him. "Raphael, what do you see when you look in my eyes?" I'm curious. I wonder if he's feeling this… this force, this energy between us. He has to be, or else he wouldn't keep looking at me like he is. Would he?

He shook his head. "Why aren't you freaking out right now?"

I lean my face close to his, staring into his crystal green eyes. If I could just stop looking at him... My heart jerks, and the close proximity of him sends my pulse racing, "Because I've felt you on the roof for weeks, I've felt you there. You're presence isn't foreign to me. I knew you were there. I'm-" my lips quivered and my eyes darted over his face, "I- I'm an empath."

"What's that mean?" He seems embarrassed that he has to ask and I felt his guard go up.

"Relax big guy. I'm a judgment free zone. Remember, not freaking out, here." I watch as he struggles with whether or not to trust me.

"What's it mean?" He had a Brooklyn accent and I kinda liked it.

"I'm in tune with other beings emotions. Animals, people, it doesn't matter. If you're near me, I can sense your presence, whether or not you mean me harm, if you're happy, sad," I flash him a devilish grin, "horny."

He chuckled and seemed to relax a little.

"Do you want a drink? I've got water and good beer. None of that light shit." I stood up and he followed suit.

"Beer," he had a sexy crooked grin. I watched as he leaned his massive frame against my kitchen counter, then I handed him a cold bottle from the fridge.

"So I'm an empath and you are-"

"A turtle." He shrugged.

"Nice try." I scan him over. He has at least thirteen inches height over me. Of course, I'm a shorty at five foot, two. His shoulders are about as broad as my fridge. He's wearing a utility belt holding sai and a loin cloth… interesting. He has knee and elbow pads and athletic wrap on his large wrists and ankles. "Ninja?"

He smirked.

"Don't be smug," I sass him.

He takes a swig of his beer and grows serious again, as if remembering his business. "Why the Foot after ya?"

My face falls, my eyes sinking back to my feet.

"I can't do nothin' for ya, if ya don't tell me what they were doin here." He stares at me, shifts his weight and sits his beer down. "You're in trouble ain't ya?"

I lick my lips, summon the courage to swallow my shame, and look in his eyes. "I can't control what I do in a fight."

He's staring at me. I think I'm going to be sick. Why'd I tell him that? I don't talk to anyone. I have no friends, no family. I don't trust anyone. I stay away from people. I hurt people. I do bad things. Yet as I'm looking in those green reptilian eyes, I think he's seeing me, and maybe, just maybe, he'll understand me.

My gaze falls to the floor. "I've been practicing on the roof, trying to gain control. Yoga helps. I black out in a fight. It just takes over." I lick my lips, my mouth is so dry.

"What takes over?"

I'm afraid of my own darkness.

I swallow. What am I doing? I glance at him, then turn and walk out of the kitchen.

"Hey, where you goin?" As big as he is, he moves silently down the unlit hall, following me.

"I've got to go. I've got to move. They know where I am," I say more to myself than to him.

"Do you always walk around in the dark?" he asks, stopping outside my bedroom door.

I wonder for a second, as I flip on the closet light, if he's ever been in a girl's room. He stands in the doorway looking around and then back at me. . Maybe, not. Is he just being respectful?

"You can come in. It's just a room. I haven't even lived here that long." I turn and grab two large black bags from the top shelf of my closet. There is nothing personal anywhere. I'd rented the apartment furnished so what is here came with the place. There are no family photos. No knick knacks. No mementos.

He stays in the doorway watching me stuff clothes into one bag. The other bag is already full, full of things I probably shouldn't even have in my possession, packed and ready for a time like this.

"I think, maybe you should come with me. I know someone who can help you."

I shove the last pair of yoga pants in my bag and zip it up, then stand facing him in the doorway with one bag over my shoulder and another hanging by my side. The weight of the latter makes the bag strap dig into my shoulder but I stand up straight, engaging my core to help me out.

As he reaches down with his large hand, gently lifting the bag from my shoulder, his fingertips brush my skin and the light sensation felt feels like a current running through me. His eyes widen a little as he lifted lifts the bag and he seems somewhat impressed. "You're strong for a little thing," he nods his head for me to follow him, turning and walking down the hallway. "What's in here anyway, bricks?"

When he realizes I am not following him he comes back for me. "You comin' or what?"

"How do I know I can trust you? I just met you." I already know the answers. I can feel them.

His crooked grin makes my heart skip, "You're the empath. You tell me."

My lips tremble as I grit my teeth, breathing deeply. "I don't want to cause you any trouble. I'm trouble."

His grin widened, "yeah, I figured. C'mon."

Raphael

We stop walking right above the manhole cover that will lead me home.

She thinks she's trouble. I have to wonder which one of us is going to bring the other more of that. She's little, but damn, she put up a hell of a decent fight. But that look on her face while she was doing it. That was some shit. The moment she lost control, the second she pulled that dagger she was gone.

"Why are you shaking your head?" she asks in her sassy voice. I look down at her perfect mouth- Stop. Don't. Go. There.

"Its nothin'. Here, I need you to cover your head, your eyes." I gesture to the black scarf she wrapped around her neck before we left her apartment.

Her gray eyes widened. "Are you going to drag me off somewhere and kill me? I mean I can hold my own in a fight but you're massive and if I handicap myself, I'm a gonner."

Seriously? Is she serious right now? First, I would crush her. There'd be no getting away. Not that I would, but I could. I'm staring at her into those great big eyes. They look like storm clouds. But I can see pain welling in them like rain threatening to fall.

She looks like she wants to run. Shit. She's scared. Fuck, this isn't my thing. This is a Mike or a Don thing. Even Leo is better at this than me.

"Grrmm," I grumble as I lean down to her.

I see I'm not wrong, but I'm not entirely right either. She's scared, yeah, but as I'm looking at her, she crosses her arms and lifts her chin defiantly, and I start to think maybe she's a bit pissy, too. I smile a little, enjoying that spark I'm seeing, and she sets her jaw and her eyes steel. "Uh-uh. Don't get mad. That's my thing."

She straightens herself and shifts, slipping her fingers to the zipper on her duffel. She toys with it, staring at me, then she rolls her eyes and drops the bag, "If you want me to trust you. I need to touch you."

Shit. Shit. Shit. If I touch her, she'll feel soft beneath my fingers and warm, and I'll be what I am and she'll feel that. I am what I am, big, rough, and scarred. Touching is a doorway in, it isn't safe. Shit. She is going to be nothing but trouble. Damn. She's chewing on her lip and reaching out her tiny hand toward me. Her eyes are pooling with some level of misery that matches my own. Self loathing, resentment, bitterness, she'd like to be a brick wall but all I see there is myself. I should run, but even though I'm seeing all of this and I know how much I've suffered with it, but I can't help thinking that if someone understood me, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, and maybe there's a chance that she could and I wouldn't feel so damn alone. There's a pang in my stomach and a tugging at my heart and before I can think it through I'm reaching my huge hand to her small one. This isn't going to end well. There's no way it could.

There's an energy radiating off her skin, like electricity. Her hand is warm and soft, everything I thought it would be. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her there. I want her to feel safe. I want her to trust me and I want to trust her.

"What the fuck?" I jerk back my hand and step away from her. What the hell was that?

She pulls her hand back, rests it at her side and looks me in the eye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"What the- What just happened? What'd you do to me?" I realize now that I'm pointing my finger at her, almost in her eye. Dropping my hand to my side, I shift my weight and cross my arms.

"I'm sorry, I won't touch you again unless you ask me to. I'm sorry. Look, I'll cover my eyes. We're good. We can go now. Please don't change your mind."

I'm about to change my mind. I don't know what the hell she did but that was some soft shit and I don't like it. My hand was still tingling from the static sensation that ran up my arm and spread out like a damn disease, but that wasn't the worst of it, that was only the preface, for the tsunami of sappy emotions that followed. It was like my yearly dose of warm fuzzies smashed into five seconds. Five seconds too long. She can't be doing that, making me feel that deep shit. How'd she do that? Did she do that? What. Just. Happened.

"Did you do that?" I sound madder than I intended. Whatever.

"Yes, but I don't make you feel anything, I just bring to the surface what your feelings are. Then I can gauge your intent." Her face turned as red as my mask.

Why's she blushin?

"Don't do it again," I snap then gesture to her scarf. She nods and covers her eyes. I lift the manhole cover and she stiffened.

"What now?" I asked her.

"I'm claustrophobic."

Well, she didn't wimp around her fear. I gotta respect that.

"What do you want me to do bout' it?" I huff.

"You're asking me to go down into a dark, narrow space. That is- I can't see. How am I supposed to climb down a ladder and jump when I can't see my landing?"

Oh for the love of- I swoop her up, bags and all. She's so light, I have to be careful not to just pitch her up in the air. She can't weigh more than a buck. "Don't touch me. Just. Be. Still."

I'm so gonna regret this. She leans her head into my plastron and I can feel her relax. Is she trusting me? She's trusting me. I can feel it. I look down at the tiny woman cradled in my arms and her red hair brushes against my cheek. She smells like honeysuckle. It's soothing and pleasant. She doesn't move around, it's as if she's submitting herself, entrusted herself to me. Me. A giant turtle, and it didn't even faze her. My heart is pounding. I regret this already.