PROLOGUE

She was not sure what had awakened her but she was immediately alert. She was laying in near darkness, the hard surface beneath her digging painfully into her slightly arched back. Her chest was feeling weighed down making it hard to breath.

Moving to sit up her left hand was met with nothing but air. She frantically tried roll onto her hands and knees away from ledge but her body's response was sluggish and awkward, like it was not her own. Finally she was able to get onto her bottom and shuffle herself away from the drop she had woken up next to.

Her head met a hard surface with a resounding thump causing her head to pound. Nausea sent her insides reeling. Gasping for air to try and ease her roiling stomach only gave her a powerful dose of the rancid odor engulfing her. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered in all her 38 years. The smell was indescribable. She tried covering her mouth with her long sleeve (Long sleeves? A lone little spark whispered in the back of her mind, I could've sworn I was wearing a sundress.) to ward off some of the stench.

The smell was too strong. She lost the battle. She felt her abdomen tighten as she leaned over and let the contents of her stomach fell to the ground. She realized quickly she could not stop vomiting, every whiff of rancid air brought up more bile. Soon, all she could do was dry heave, nothing but stomach acid left.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she began to notice she could not get enough oxygen into her lungs, she started to give in to her fear. She was going to die here, alone, in the dark. She was light headed both from the lack of oxygen and the head injury she sustained just moments before. Thoughts of her family flitted through her mind as she felt the beginnings of darkness encroaching upon her.

A large hand briefly touched her shoulder, jolting her back to reality, when a mask was fitted over her nose and mouth. She inhaled sharply and tried to jerk away but the firm hand cupping the back of her head halted her movement. The suddenly clean air gave her pause and within seconds she was inhaling giant gulps between sobs of relief.

"Easy ma'am, slow, steady breaths," a gentle voice spoke softly in her ear, his large hand moving to rub her back. "In and out," he continued, demonstrating by doing so himself and encouraging her to mimic his breathing pattern. She did, forcing herself to focus her full attention on matching her breathing with his. For a full two minutes she was able to lose herself in the slow inhales and exhales, eyes closed and enjoying the simple pleasure of fresh air, but reality decided to rear its ugly head again. She began to shiver, the thin material of her clothes doing nothing to combat the cold and damp environment she was in. A warm blanket was draped carefully around her shoulders, the hose connected to her mask moved out of the way. Grateful for the warmth she wrapped the blanket tight around herself and tried to pull her knees closer to her body, only to be stopped by her large belly.

That nagging feeling from before of her body not being her own came back full force. Everything wrong with her new reality flooded her mind sending her wounded head spinning; she had fallen asleep on her comfortable hammock, not this grimy ground; the summer evening had been warm and inviting, not frigid and damp like this passage she was in now; the fragrance from her garden had been relaxing, not at all like the horrible stench she had experienced only minutes before; and finally, she was only seven weeks pregnant, not the seven months her body was displaying now!

"You need to calm down," the young man from before more firmly stated, breaking through her rambling thoughts.

"You want me to calm down!" she said in a quiet and panic ridden voice muffled by the oxygen mask, tears once again streaking down her face, "How can I be calm when everything is so messed up?"

"You have to calm down because your baby is in distress," he replied, the large hand still rubbing her back in comforting circles. "I do not believe going into labor right here would be in the best interest of either you or the baby. You calming down would help the situation immensely."

She winced as she felt her belly tighten a bit and rubbed a soothing hand over it. This was the second mild contraction she had felt since she had woken up. Nothing to write home about on a normal day but today was shaping up to be not normal. She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. She felt her stampeding heart begin slow to a more normal pace. Weird things were going on around her but right now she needed to get a handle on where she was and what was going on. Panicking was never helpful in any situation, no matter how rational it may seem.

"Wait," she asked, latching onto the first part of his reply, "how can you tell the baby is in distress?"

"I have been monitoring both of your heartbeats since we found you," he stated, a lightness now there that had not been there before, "Both of your pulses are at a much healthier rate now."

Though still a little cold and very exhausted she was surprised she did feel a lot better. The clean air and calming presence behind her gave her the strength she needed to start figuring out what was going on. With another deep breath she moved to stand up and was very grateful for the helping hand she received. The hose connecting to get mask was gently draped over her blanket covered shoulder, the small machine it was connected to placed by her feet. She leaned against the wall for support once she was standing. She was definitely not used to the added weight of the baby.

"So, you can hear heart beats?" her giggle had a slight edge as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the minimal lighting and she could tell the area she was in was enclosed. She could only see about five feet in the direction she was facing, the only light being right above where she had awakened. "Are you Superman or something?" she asked, finishing her thought.

The snickering of more than one person and the sharp shushing that followed had her pushing herself back against the wall with her arms held protectively around her swollen belly. Her head swiveled around trying to see who else was there. Her frantic searching did not even reveal her rescuer.

"It's alright, ma'am," the young man reassured, speaking from the shadows to her right. "It's just my brothers. They came with me to insure your safety."

"If that's the case, why are you all hiding?" she questioned, not reassured at all.

"Don't you think we would of hurt you by now if that was our intent?" another young man stated in a gruff tone.

"Shut it, Raph, she's already been through enough. Leave her alone," a third young man cut in, his tone firm leadership.

"Don't mind Raphael, over there," a fourth young man said, his tone jovial. "He acts cranky and tough but," he continued in a softer conspiratorial voice, "between you and me, he's a big softy."

A shout of protest before the sound of a scuffle breaking out could be heard off to the left of her. The woman had still not seen any of the young men and was feeling very disconcerted. A shuffling sound to her right had her whipping her head in that direction.

"To answer your question, ma'am, we are staying hidden because we look very different from you," the authoritative young man spoke again.

"I've seen some pretty strange people before," she assured, and when there was no reply she continued, "We live in a world full of people that are born different, you know. Our genes are slowly degenerating with each passing generation.

"I'm Oona, by the way, Oona Weaver. Thank you for finding me," Oona knew she was babbling but could not stop. Ever since she was little whenever she would get nervous or scared the words would just continue until someone intervened. "If you guys would help me get out of here I would be grateful. I need to call my family 'cause judging by how far along I am I've been missing for a while and they're probably completely at their wits end and my husband's probably losing his mind looking after four girls all by himself-"

"Whoa, Dudette, chill out," the upbeat young man broke in, "We're gonna lead you to the surface. I think Donnie is talking to my Angel Cakes right now. Her and Casey are gonna meet us up there.

"My name's Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey."

Oona had gone still, her mind locked on the names she heard. She was trying to force the equation to come up with a different answer but the numbers were adding up in a way she could hardly believe. She looked to her left and then to her right, hysteria bubbling to the surface.

"Donnie wouldn't happen to be short for Donatello, would it?" Oona asked slowly, hoping she wasn't losing her mind.

"Yes?" came the unsure reply.

"Please tell me one of you isn't named Leonardo," Oona begged, "And if you are let it be because your parents are over zealous Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fans."

For a long minute the only sound Oona heard was the blood pounding in her ears. Then, out of the shadows, stepped an anthropomorphic turtle who stood at least a head and shoulders taller than her petite five foot frame. His blue mask and twin katana the only confirmation she needed to know who this was.

Oona's already pale complexion lost what little color it had as three more figures moved into the dim light. The one who could only be Donatello approached her with caution.

I was wrong, Oona thought faintly, panic is perfectly rational in this situation.

Oona looked up at the tall, lanky turtle and stated, "I think I'm going to pass out now."

She was barely aware of the arms catching her as she fainted.

A/N:This is my first attempt at a story with multiple chapters. I also have not written much of anything in the last 15 years so bear with me as I leap feet first into something crazy. I also have no beta so please forgive any mistakes I miss. Thank you all bunches for taking your time to read my story.

Disclaimer- Don't own it, never have, not making any money off of known characters or settings.