Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, only this storyline, my OCs and my artwork.

So I finally stumbled into TMNT yet again, however this time, I'm armed with a plot and ready to rumble!

Vroom vroom.

Several announcements before we begin tonights feature:

1) Yes guys, it is the dreaded OC (cue screams, distant thunder and lightning) and for once, they aren't any aliens around like my other fics, just the good ol' turtle gang (yet).

2) While this will be an eventually romance, there is a pretty extensive storyline for this one, and the flame will burn sloooowww. If you want, have a guess at the pairing :D

3) The ninja dudes won't fall into our protagonist's lap (or vice versa) a couple of scenes into this one, because baby, we've got some character development going on, and quite frankly, I want there to a smidgen of reality to face off random luck and convenience that are so stealthily common.

Thank you ladies and gentlemen, your exits are here and here. Please turn off your phones (unless you're reading this on them of course) and enjoy the show. ;)

Unforgivable Habits

Prologue

"You can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another."
― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

She chewed on her index knuckle, her blunt teeth tracing the ridges of bone under skin. It was a practice of hers to do when she wasn't moving a lot; like many people, a lack of anything worth enough to dedicate her attention upon made her tense and agitated.

Some tapped their fingers, others spoke endless nonsense; but for her, the mouth always had to be occupied. When she was younger, she chewed her hair until her parents broke such behaviour; then it was her thumb and nails, and after having to deal with braces and painfully short cuticles, knuckles became her next meal.

They were scarred and calloused like a grinding stone, as were her fingers and the areas of her palm that were essential for a tight grip. But she liked it that way; each crevice and wrinkle spoke of her life, her hardships and greatest feats.

She didn't like to think of it as a nervous habit, but rather as a way to remind herself that she was ok. Really, it was more like a kiss than chewing. Wasn't it good to give yourself some love once in a while?

"I have to say Valentina, I will miss you dearly. Our time together was important to me." The older lady smiled with practiced control, the crinkled shape a mirror image of every other one she pulled. Her clothes were grey and modest much like the rest of her, the only eye catching feature being a red lacquer name tag with the fading name 'Helena Wilson'.

In reality, she was a woman barely into her fifties, with 2 loud children and a loved husband that brightened her worn mask after every long day. However entering her workplace, even waking to a working morning in her profession seemed to pull a thick fog over this existence. "You been through a lot, and I know it hasn't been easy. But you've still got to stay strong and remember everything we've talked about."

The tips of the girls teeth started to dig in deeper, the throb of blood vessels squealing under the heightened pressure.

"I can understand why you agreed to leaving when the opportunity arose. While I worry that another sudden habitual change may be too...jarring, I hope that being around family again will calm you down."

Wilson's carbon smile faltered, though she was used to the lack of response. She watched the tangled form of the young girl in front of her with some concoction of pity and resentment. Valentina Morani had her entire life ahead of her, and yet the actions of her parents were shaping her path even now. Everything had changed with one slip of their entire game.

Their daughter was somewhat hollow looking, resembling the statues of a grave yard with her dead eyes and cupid features, yet perhaps one day she'd awake to be a beauty. Wilson internally grimaced, the change barely leaving her eyes. So many others were in far worse situations, though it wasn't the easiest time for her patient. And yet she sat in front of her, aged and passionless like she had seen years of life and decided that it was all pointless.

Of course, there had been some improvement. Wilson hadn't made it this far in her career without having her own handy methods. She had dealt with teen cases before, and while the girl was only 12, Wilson found it more productive to treat her like an older child - she certainly had the mind set for a grumpy teenager.

When Morani first arrived she was a mess; a foul mouth that seemed to cut deep without uttering anything that technically was a curse word (she knew her way around rules like a snake), demanding glares and on several occasions Wilson had left their sessions in a flurry after having been spat at. Morani's mother was of southern asian decent; despite running away from her home country, she had been well educated, but it seemed that the daughter had picked up several choice threats from the culture. A particularly common one involved stabbing a needle several hundred times in Wilson's eye. While fairly interesting if not an inherent reminder of voodoo, they were not to be tolerated.

However drastic measures weren't needed in the end. At the end of the elder Moranis trial, Valentina had become this cracked shell, empty and non responsive. Her once fiery glares were blank and accusing despite the drained emotion, but perhaps they only had this effect on Wilson; after all, little progress had been made.

And now her patient of under 7 months was attending her final session, packed and bound for a new home over seas with relatives that had never met Valentina. There was something to be desired on the finality of this particular case.

Wilson observed the girl again, mildly pleased to note that she hadn't drawn blood again from all her incessant chewing. After another moment of silent deliberation, she cleared her throat. "Valentina...There is no shame in admitting everything is not alright. Sometimes, we can create wonders...if we simply excavate the old."

There was something in the tone of the counsellor that pricked at Valentina's attention. For a moment, her teeth paused their massaging motion and her glassy blue eyes flickered upwards.

Wilson stared back. Acknowledgement was something of a victory in itself. She continued with a firmer, confident tone. "I think I understand somewhat now. The idea of accepting help requires trust, and that can be hard. You feel trapped, alone even. That's normal, most would in your situation but-"

The chair clattered backwards and before Wilson could even cry out, the mug of tea she usually offered Valentina was crashing into the egg coloured wall. The young girl stared coldly back at Wilson, her fists tight and stance wide like a fighter. For a moment, Wilson was shocked, excited even. She didn't even care about the act of violence outside their code of conduct, or even the fact that she would now have to call in the cleaners early. Because she had seen that spark, that sharp energy that this girl possessed, and that was exactly what she had been looking for.

It quickly evaporated. The moment passed, and like the dawn of winter, she wilted back to her previous state. Valentina stared blankly at Wilson from across the desk that separated them, her hands relaxed and gaze empty yet again. With a monotone voice, Valentina spoke for the first time in several sessions, purpose and clear cut finality in her words. "Goodbye, Mrs Wilson." And with one hand draped behind her to snag the scalf she had left on a hook behind the door, Wilson saw the last of Morani.

The room felt considerably lighter, yet deathly silent in her absence.