He breathed in the slightly less polluted air of Central park. Scaling one of the massive rock formations, he finally found solace in his usual resting place. Laying on his back, reclaiming his breath after rooftop running just moments before. It was always him, the trouble maker, the hot head… the black sheep. Not only was he an outcast to the normal people of the city, but even in his own family. No one wanted him, he just ruined the lives of people around him.
So once again he was alone, looking over the empty playground below, jealous of the children who take normalcy for granted. What he wouldn't give to be normal, to have friends and maybe even someone who loved him. But that would never happen. He will forever be an outcast, rejected, unloved, alone. These thoughts wouldn't stop running through his head, they never did.
Looking up at the stars he suddenly felt goose bumps raise on his arms. The wind was picking up but that wasn't what got his attention. He was no longer alone. Peering into the darkness he could see a figure walking the path below. It appeared to be a teenage girl, though it was hard to be fully sure from such a distance and in the dark. Her head was downturned as she walked slowly down the path, hands in pockets towards the playground. Settling on a swing her arms were crossed, towing at the ground to push herself gently. Body language told him it was obvious she was crying, or at least trying not to. He felt… invasive. Like he was invading the private spot she was obviously seeking. But at the same time, he couldn't just leave her. A teenage girl sitting alone in the park at night? Not a good idea… Especially in the city that never sleeps.
He spent the next few minutes trying to guess why she was here. Homeless? Running away? Fight with her parents? Suddenly his thoughts where interrupted by the sound of leaves being treaded underfoot. Now alert he could make out the outline of figures in the trees behind the swing set. Although he was aware of the danger, she wasn't. Her inner thoughts drowning out the sounds around her.
Knowing he had to protect her, he silently headed down the face of the rocks. No attention being paid to his quiet and swift movements in the darkness. As the offenders stepped out of the cover of the trees he could see that they were four purple dragons. Each armed with a gun or knife. They moved with experience from the other crimes they regularly committed, flanking her from the sides and behind.
Finally sensing the danger she moved to run, but they were upon her before she could escape. It was now or never. Raph emerged from the shadows and caught the attention of the obvious leader, his knife pressed to her side. Before he could react, Raph had flipped forward, kicking the knife away from her as he landed. Yelling for her to run he focused his attention on the attackers. Although his offenses were stronger than theirs, his moves were weaker as a result of blowing off steam earlier that night.
Through all the commotion he didn't get to see exactly where the girl had run off to, though her scream quickly answered that. The leader had backed away from the group as the fight began and now once again had the girl captive. Though to be fair she was putting up one hell of a fight. Although much weaker, her attacks still held power and precision in them. She seemed to be more angry than scared, this came as a shock, but was definitely not complaining as it bid him more time to reach her. But he was too late. Deciding it wasn't worth the fight the punk who held her stabbed his knife into her side and dropped her to the ground.
Forgetting the others he surged forward and cradled her in his arms. Her eyes were fluttering and her chest heaving to breath, small coughs shaking her body. He had to get her help or else she would die. What could he do? If he left her outside a hospital who knew how long it would take her to be found, and she would be dead before an ambulance arrived… He had no choice, Donnie was his only option. Scooping her up in his arms he tried to be as gentle as possible in order to prevent the knife from shifting. He called ahead on his T-Cell as he ran. He had to make it in time.