Quick author note: I don't own any trademarks. I only own Ryan Kyles (and even then it's up for debate XD)

Enjoy this fanfic guys :)

Of course she was running. It's what she was good at. Her older brother had taught her to defend herself, using various forms of jujitsu, but her true strength lay in her speed. She could run for as long as she wanted. So, it was only natural that when her fight or flight response is triggered, she would always choose to flight. She knew that she could fight back, but she felt more comfortable running away rather than joint-locking, throwing, and counter-attacking her problems. This problem happened to be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was walking away from the train station with a small group of unknown citizens one night. New York was a large city so Ryan Kyles never bothered to memorized the faces of her train riding buddies. The further she walked away from the illuminated station, the crowd around her faded and eventually disappeared. Her wandering eye drifted from the ground in front of her to the monstrous towers of buildings surrounding her. Staggered lights were turned on in windows and a handful of black SUV's were parked horribly on the curb. Ryan didn't think anything of it, so she continued her way home. The SUV's were half on the street and half on the sidewalk; nothing she hasn't seen before in the city.

Just as she reached the small intersection, she heard a blood curling scream. She froze in fear, using rapid eye movements to pinpoint where the source was. It wasn't long before the person screaming had suddenly stopped; immediately followed by a loud thud and snapping sound. Ryan spun around and glanced to the rear; what she saw was a dreadful sight. An unidentified man was laying in a pool of his own blood. His expensive suit was tore, his legs were bent in unnatural ways, and a steady flow of bubbling red ooze was pouring out of his skull. Although it was dark, the street lights provided enough for Ryan to take a mental picture of the man. His face was absolutely horrified; eyes wide, mouth ajar, and fear stricken in his cheeks. This dead man's face was imprinted in Ryan's mind.

Something brought her attention upward, to the roof. By the ledge, approximately nine people were gazing down at the lifeless man. Ryan stood motionless for a minute as the crowd on the ledge peered from the dead suit then to her. The one in the middle definitely pointed at her. The remaining men scurried and began to scale down the side of the building. As stated before, she would always choose to run. So, that's exactly what she did.

Ryan broke out into a strong sprint and bolted across the intersection. Behind her, Ryan could hear that the men were reaching the ground and starting up the SUV's. Turning down a corner and forcing herself into a narrow alleyway, she knelt on the darker side of a dumpster. She leveled her breathing and peeked her crystal blue eyes around the trash receptacle in order to see where her pursuers were. It wasn't long before a black SUV drove past, missing her. A second one screeched to a halt and a passenger jumped out of the backseat. Handgun in his palms, the man crept down the alleyway. Ryan narrowed her eyes at the man as he slowly approached her hiding place. Quickly, and as quietly as she could, she slipped her thick jacket off and placed her handbag underneath it; carefully putting her belongings between the dumpster and the wall. With her woolly jacket off, she prepared herself for a sneak attack. Hunching over and bending her knees, Ryan kept her chin up and followed the man's shadow until he was in the right spot.

Once the man stepped directly in front of Ryan, she used her foot to kick at his knee. The man grunted and slightly fell. She grabbed the barrel of the pistol and pushed it away, consequently ramming her elbow into his face. As he reclined backward, she yanked the gun out of his hand and tossed it down the alleyway. Spinning around, Ryan kicked out both of the man's feet and used his momentum to lunge him over her and onto his back. Indistinguishable voiced came from the parked SUV; signaling Ryan that the others had seen her. Snapping her head around, her conclusion was confirmed when two more men hopped out of the black vehicle.

"Dammit," she uttered under her breath. She jumped away from the grounded masked man and turned to sprint down the opposite way. After a few steps, the first SUV took a screeching turn and blocked the remaining way out. "Oh no," she breathed out as she realized that she cornered herself. "Amateur mistake," she scowled at herself. Ryan paced a few steps, attempting to devise a possible escape route; three men to the rear, one grounded and two approaching. Her heart rate sky-rocketed, her palms tightened and contracted with anxiety, and her lean muscles teasing up with angst. Concluding that she couldn't evade them, she stood tall and kept her head up, facing her murders and issuing them the dirtiest look she could muster.

Two flashes of light erupted from the barrel of a pistol by one of the grunts. Both bullets hit their mark; one by her collarbone and the other just under her right ribs. She felt the blood begin to drain from her body and coat her frail limbs. Burning sensations echoed from her collarbone and by her stomach. The other men didn't shoot; rather, they all quietly watched as the sparse girl dropped her tough shoulders and fell onto her back. Her head rammed hard onto the cold concrete ground, giving a blurry edge around her vision. Feeling her life being drained from her, she watched as her fading breath left a pitiful trail of condensation. Ryan Kyles regretted going down so easily.

While the girl's blue eyes began to gloss over, her mind was snapped back into the fight as more gunshots echoed the alleyway. She focused her eyes around, rapidly turning her foggy head to witness what was happening. The masked men weren't shooting at her. Someone was there; someone was fighting back. Someone was defending her. Ryan immediately thought of her older brother, however it was unlikely; he was studying at the library tonight. Who was standing up for her?

It wasn't long before the constant firing of the pistols ceased and Ryan assumed she was alone. Rolling her head to the side, she strained her eyes to see the aftermath of the battle. Through hazy vision, she could just barely make out the masked grunts laying on the ground around her. The SUV's were still running with their operators were unconscious. From what she saw, Ryan cracked a small smile that the men got what they deserved. "Assholes," she coughed up.

"Whoa! She's still alive!" a surprised voice echoed in the alleyway. She tilted her head, trying to find who had said it.

"Holy crap," another person replied, with a much harsher tone.

"Leo, what do we do?!" the first voice pleaded.

"She doesn't have long, we have to do something now," a third voice seemed to confirm what Ryan was thinking.

"Donnie, where's the nearest hospital?" a new voice seemed to demand.

"Four point nine miles, she won't make it."

"We can't let her die!" the first voice piped up. "Let's take her back with us, she'll have a chance, right?"

"A better chance than if we leave her here," the rough voice agreed.

"Raph, you know the rules; we can't-"

"No, you don't want to!"

"We can't leave her here."

"Leo, she could live if we go now."

There was a short moment of tension as the four voices stopped talking. Ryan forced her head to glance around to find the four people speaking about her. With weak hands, she gently placed a hand over her stomach wound at a feeble attempt to slow her blood lost. Her breathing became staggered and rough, trying to keep a steady flow of oxygen circulating.

"Leo!" the panicked voice from the first person shouted away the suspenseful silence.

"Alright, fine. Raph, grab her, apply pressure, and let's go."

Ryan's eyelids were getting heavy and concentrating to decipher the dark figures around her was causing her brain to ache. Her muscles were growing weaker and her breathing was becoming shallow. What felt like a quick blink to her, Ryan reopened her eyes to find herself being coddled in solid arms. An unrealistic hand was pressing on her stomach to stop the bleeding. Wind whipped past her thin face as her body was carried over the rooftops of New York. She felt gravity kick in every now and again as whoever was holding her seemed to leap to abnormal lengths and land softly; probably for her convenience.

While in the hands of this unknown person, Ryan began to fidget under the stern pressure of his hand. It was hurting her, so her response was to wiggle a little to provide some relief.

"Hey, cut that out!" the rough voice from before demanded from her.

Her throat was dry and her energy was fleeting from her again. She couldn't reply vocally, so she tried to stay as still as possible. The light in her eyes were dimming, her vision fading, and her heart slowing. Ryan felt her body become limp and her mind rolled off into the unconscious once more.

Another second seemed to pass for the injured girl. Dull blue eyes scanned her new surroundings; her body was motionless. This time, no one was carrying her, she was laying on her back, and something was tightly wrapped around her stomach. A painful moan escaped her lips as her spine arched to compensate for the bindings. Ryan ran a hand over her abdomen trying to remove whatever was curled around her waist. While squirming, an additional ping of pain shot through her. The wound on her collarbone burned and pulsated, as if someone had drowned it in alcohol.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. Her head was swimming and her eyes refused to focus on anything. The room around her was brighter than the dark alley she remembered; she could just barely her a sense of depth perception.

"Donnie! She's awake!" one of the voices from earlier shouted.

"Ow," she repeated a chorus of groans.

"Can you see me?" A dark figure loomed over her face.

Ryan strained her eyes to make out a face; all she could definitely see was a strange hue of green. "Barely," she answered in a raspy voice.

"Probably for the best," a different voice said.

The person leaning over Ryan completely ignored the previous comment, "How's the pain? How do you feel?"

"Uh," Ryan took a deep breath; as her stomach was sucked in and pushed out, she could just identify something wrong. There was something still inside of her. She inhaled again, concentrating on the implement stuck near her stomach. "Did you get the bullet out?"

"The one in your shoulder, yes. However, you've lost quite a substantial amount of blood. The second one is deeper, and around many organs; it proved favorable to not operate." The person in her sight was explaining the situation too fast for Ryan to easily understand.

She had to hesitant in order for her brain to fully comprehend what was told to her, "There's still a bullet in me?" she asked for clarification.

"That's correct," she could just see the figure nod his head. "I've wrapped you up, to prevent further loss of blood. But I really recommend not moving until we can get it out."

"When will that be?"

"Um," the question clearly caught him off guard.

"Hey, don't worry about it," the carefree voice joined the conversation, "Leo's making a run to get more. He's really fast, so it won't be long."

"Getting what?" she asked.

"Blo-"

"Supplies," the harsh voice chimed in. Ryan rolled her head to see the other two. These people had green pigments as well. It didn't strike her as odd; simply assuming her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"Miss," the more fast-paced voice waved a hand over her face to get her attention, "Are you in pain?"

"Oh my God, yes," she did her best to look him in the eyes; she was just guessing where to look.

"How bad?"

"Like a constant Hell-fire is searing my liver," she admitted.

"Oh," he said, "Hey, Mikey. Can you get 2 milligrams of morphine?"

"Only two?" the less serious voice said.

"She's lost a lot of blood, giving her too much painkillers could cause her to overdose."

"I've fine without the overdose," Ryan allowed her five-ton head to fall naturally to a side and her eyes to close. "Who are you guys?" Her voice was weak as her mind began to drift again.

"We're the ones who saved your ass," the rougher voice answered.

"Well, that goes without saying," she was able to provide a sarcastic reply. "Thank you," she exhaled loudly, "For saving my ass."