A.N.: I have come back to edit this story and make it more cohesive. I am going to apologize upfront for the errors I miss. I am also going to apologize for how bad the original was. It's amazing what a few years does to improve vocabulary and writing techniques. Please bare with the chapters that I have not edited yet and feel free to leave comments and constructive criticism. Goodness knows I need improvement.

TMNT: Aquamarine

Chapter one- The Pied Piper

Time is relative to who the person is. Twenty-eight to a human is the end of their adolescent reign. The person is, hypothetically, to become more serious and focused. However, turtles do not subscribe to such requirements and neither did the mutated turtles.

At twenty-eight, the four mutated turtles were still giddy and playful. Only one seemed to be discarding his adolescent joys. The eldest mutant turtle, named Leonardo, had taken over his father's position as acting head of the family. He instructed and amended his siblings in ninjitsu, having long since perfected his own techniques. Often, he made time for surveillance of their home and the tracking of the Foot clan. Seldom was he left on his own terms, but with the time he had, developed something of a talent with traditional Japanese instruments: excelling at both the shamisen and kokyu.

The second eldest of the four brothers, Raphael, had gained great jurisdiction of over his volatile temper. While still known on the streets by malicious thugs, he had become something of mechanical engineer. Having grown fond of the variety of vehicles he had been privileged to in his youth, he had taken to learning all he could. Now, he shouldered much of the burden in managing the large aircrafts, motorcycles, and vans that he and his younger brother Donatello developed.

Being in the middle of the four siblings with Raphael, Donatello was yin to his elder brother's yang. He enjoyed building, creating, and learning as much as he had in his youth, but now had refined his fascinations. Now, he had become focused on medical sciences. It became urgent that he learned all he could about his brother's and his anatomy, and his father's. He doubted a vet would be able to care for any of them.

Despite being the youngest and most impish of his brothers, Michelangelo had become a improbable chef. Food was most definitely an art form in his hands. His over developed pallet was never diluted or damaged when eating junk food and he relished being able to turn any unusual food things into a fantastic meal. His talent had led him back to his older brother, Donatello, for information and help in hydroponics and gardening. He was an excellent gardener. He grew most of his family's food and informed his teasing older brothers, that reading his comics to the plants made them grow larger and better.

Their aging father with ailing joints had relaxed his grip on his sons. Their childishness was now tempered with self-sufficiency. He was pleased with their growth, their habits, and the honor his children brought to his and his former master's name of Hamato. While he had long practiced ninjitsu, he now found it necessary to stand back and allow Leonardo to take control. Although, he was pleased his son still sought him in counsel.

This had felt like the bloom of the cherry blossom. Independence was mitigated with family interdependence. Friendship, cultivated with human and alien species secured a powerful bond. But, that was four years ago.

It was four years since Splinter's death. Four years since Raphael became a bottle lover. Four years since Donatello had become a recluse. Four lonely years Michelangelo's only daily companions were the blossoms of his garden. It was four years to the day, Leonardo ran out never to be seen again.

The break of the family should not have happened when their father died, but none of them would discuss what had occurred. Perhaps they were still in shock, denial, or in the deepest of depressions. Perhaps the brothers did not speak of it because of helplessness they felt on that day four years ago.

In the opposite corner of shelf bed, the old disfigured grandfather clock ticked noisily in the whirring silence. The purr of the multiple system units was only cut by the occasional clicking noise of keys. A camera attached to a microscope was being readjusted in one monitor, words were being typed out on another, a less watched monitor had security surveillance, and a fourth showed a variety of timers, graphs, and memos.

The three-fingered olive green hand adjusted the magnification and the details cleared sufficiently on the computer. Contrary to what humans seemed to believe, glasses were not made for microscopes. The broad frames that perched on edge of his beak had slid down in his ponderings and he found himself peering over the frames in his hurry.

He stopped typing briefly, shoving the frames up, before instructing the computer to take a high-resolution of what the microscope saw. He saved his work again before the chiming of the clock indicated midnight,

In that instant, at least two fuses burst. The fuses made odd clanging and sputtering noises as they died in their box. The lights flickered and the power went out. The normally colorful lights of the modem and the bright glows of the monitors died.

In the middle of a complex procedure, Donatello groaned palming his face in exasperation. He felt gratitude for his meticulous habit of saving every so often, but annoyed at the interruption. He began muttering curses under his breath as pushed back from his now invisible desk. He stepped carefully in the dark, aware of his surroundings.

He had set up his laboratory home with the fuse box at the far end. He knew his wiring was decent, but was also aware of the faulty of being a living being. With many of his experiments being of biological sort and temperature sensitive, he kept the main power safely away.

The tips of his fingers slid across the cold concrete and he felt the lever. He pulled it down and cut the power. He sighed letting the tip of finger drag across from the left side of the level at about chest level till he touched the metallic seam. Carefully he hooked his finger in the opening and slid it open.

From within the pocket of the white lab coat he wore, he fumbled a flashlight and clicked on the end of it to shine a light into the metallic box. He waited a few seconds, allowing his eyes to get used to the light and then he swept a thumb over the battered fuses. Unfortunately for Donatello, the moment he pulled out two of the hottest and bulky fuses he realized were utterly destroyed.

His hands a long sense developed firm calluses and the mediocre heat neither disturbed nor hurt him. He was still able to detect the hottest areas and as he peered at the twisted fuse he discovered the partially melted nature. There was nothing more he hated than his creations reaching their limit. Grant it, seven years of continuous use was decent for a second hand electronic.

Feeling slightly testy, Donatello yanked the second fuse from the box. He taped them to make sure, the metal was not still melting and shoved both into his lab coat. The fuses were a very old model, but he would need them to verify compatibility for the replacements.

"Of all the times to be in a blackout." he murmured pursing his lips.

Shaking his head he went back the way he came to the table. He shoved the flashlight into his mouth and grabbed his most popular tool in his arson; plastic wrap.

The long cardboard box with its razored teeth spewed out a transparent sheet. The turtle had the box bite off the flimsy sheet after he had pulled out 3-4 inches. Cautiously he pulled the glass dish out from underneath the microscope and secured the plastic wrap over it. If he were lucky, the contaminated blood he was studying would not congeal or decay. Nevertheless, as he set the dish on the table he knew it to be wishful thinking.

Donatello scratched his head and dropped the flashlight back into his palm. He trotted over to the closed door of his lab and shoved it open. The light in his hand guided him down the hallway where the living room and kitchenette were. He walked over to metal braced door and opened it. He paused and listened for any noise out of the normal dripping creaking pipes of the sewer. He sucked in a murky scented breath and slipped out the door. With some force, he shut the door, leaving a small gap he could use to get back in and set off quickly down the tunnel.

Donatello paced himself, keeping himself silent. He was no longer 160- 200 pounds he was in his youth. He was in this thirties and significantly heavier, stronger, and bigger. Just like many turtle species he had continually grown with age. He was about 5'8" and weighed somewhere between 275 lbs to 300 lbs. Considering, he had kept up with his ninjitsu due to his appearance and increasing weight he was rightfully proud of his ability to be near silent.

Once he reached the third latter leading up, his large green hands began pulling him. Even with his weight and size he easily climbed up. He extended his arm as he reached the top of the latter, slowly waving his hand until he felt the rough markings of the manhole cover. Donatello, push the large round metal covering from above him up and over. It scraped noisily on the pavement, but he was on the far edge of town. Only the Purple Dragon gang roamed this area of town. Donatello could care less if they knew he was there. Besides that particular area was usually empty in the wee hours of the morning.

He stuck his head out just in time to see his older brother send a brute flying with a jump flying heel kick. Donatello lazily ducked as the person sailed passed him. He knew the rugged New York accented baritone anywhere.

"What the hell was that Raphael?" he grumbled clambering out of the hole, "Are you trying to wake all of Manhattan?" with his toes, he scratchily drug the manhole covering back to its respective place.

The red clad turtle turned on the violet masked one. His bandanna was ragged, torn, and stained. The scars on his body were old from the many fights he had survived. He easily dwarfed his brother by his six-foot hulking form. Donatello had long sine known his brother's affection for weight training, but he was still startled by the bulk of muscle that was Raphael. However, some of Raphael's teeth in the back of his jaw had sharpened and become somewhat canine like. Probably from his increase in land animal proteins and a few fights in which he broke them.

"Don? What the hell 're ya doin' here?" he turned his head sharply and twisted his body stopping another Purple Dragon posse easily with his turning sidekick.

Donatello watched the assailant slam into the brick wall, jarring his skull violently. The gang member was probably unconscious." I guess I should be asking you the same question." he frowned watching the body flop over, "I hope you didn't kill him. He's maybe seventeen."

"I asked ya first.," snorted Raphael darkly, "An' if he's gonna act like an adult, he's gonna hafta deal with the goddamn consequences!"

Don shook his head and offered his older brother a bored look, "The fuse box in my lab melted its parts." he said remaining calm, "I came for new ones from the dump." he gestured back to Raphael, "You?"

"Bustin' up some heads!" Raph snorted happily, "These Purple shit heads crossed paths with me." he jerked his thumb behind him to the groaning bodies on the street.

"I see." Donatello commented peering behind the red masked turtle to the bruised, battered, and bloodied gang. He pulled his gaze away from the sight and looked back his brother again, "How have you been Raph?" he asked quietly.

"Alive." he snorted, "Trainnin', bashin' some heads, whateva..."he hesitated noticing for the first time, Don's snow white lab coat, "What about you? April says she doesn't hear from ya any more."

The mention of his former human friend stung, "I'm working..." he said icily. His mind quickly reminded him of the time. "I'm sorry, my work can't be left for long." he passed by Raphael and jumped toward the wall.

The moment his feet touched the sandpaper texture of the bricks his bounced off the wall to the next wall. From the second wall, he rebounded to the concrete roof of the old building and began sprinting across the roof.

His mind chose to remind him: It was never safe to directly into the junkyard. There were far too many cameras for his taste. He always went in at an angle where the cameras were unable to see him and where the fence was broken. It had not been noticed in all these years because of the large rusted sheet metal over top of the opening.

"Imagine seeing Raphael." he muttered to no one in particular taking the familiar path.

"Yo Donnie!" called his brother bounding towards him. Raphael kept with his brother's pace. The force he put into running beside Donatello said Raphael knew if he slowed down, Don would vanish.

The lab-coated turtle turned at looked at him darkly, "What is it Raph?"

"If yer lookin' for replacement fuses, aintcha? The Junker ain't got any. New state law or sumthin'. But there is a New Lab by the docks does." Raphael offered, "I'mma head over there and I need someone to help kill the lights. Why don't you come?"

"There's a new Lab in town?" blinked Don caught off guard by the new information.

"Yah, it showed up acoupla months ago." he snorted again, "Ya don't come much outta yers do ya?" he laughed.

Don's dark look became a glare, "No. No I don't. I hate humans." he looked away from his older brother.

Raphael guessed his intent to ditch his brother, "But Case and April are human." he challenged cutting in front of his brother to stop him.

Donatello halted, "I don't care." He retorted coolly, "Please move, I need to replace the fuses before my experiment fails." Internally he added, 'Again…'

Raphael crossed his arms, "Ya can go when I say ya can."

Donatello had not taken his boa staff, "I'll go through you if I must." He challenged.

His older brother's raunchy laughter echoed, "Alright Donnie," he grinned falling into a guard stance, "Why not? Its been fuckin' foreva since I got to spar with someone in my own league! If you ain't been slackin'!"

Irritated, Donatello also took a guard stance. This was going to take awhile if he was not careful. Don was not Leo. Leonardo and Raphael were nearly level in skill four years ago. Don had kept up and improved his ninjitsu skills, but he was not entirely sure he would be able to make a dent in Raphael's defense.

'My best option is to disappear.' Don concluded darkly.

At that moment, sirens began going off. No emergency lights shone in the cool darkness, so Raphael and Donatello ignored the noise. Their brotherly war was more important than a storm warning or whatever it was.

Silently sizing one another up, both made their decision. Muscles clenched in preparation and the entire city went black.

"What's this?" Don blinked rapidly willing his eyes to get used to the darkness.

Raphael dropped his guard, "Shit! It's that damn lab again. Somethin's up." he spun on his heel and began running toward the docks.

Don stood wearily. He was tired of dealing with his older sibling, but he need replacement fuses and Raph was right, then the state mandates would mean there were none. He groaned inwardly and carefully he followed Raph in the nearly pitch-blackness, "Raph what's going on?" he called, "What do you mean again?"

"There's been power issues linked back to the lab by the docks!" he exclaimed over the sirens, "And there were break-in's!"

"What was taken?" Donatello queried.

"That's jus' the thing! It was neva' reported!" Raphael responded his voice growing dark, "I know shit is goin' down! I've neva caught more of the Foot clan than I have at this goddamn building!"

"The Foot are involved?" Don exclaimed, "We haven't heard from them in years!"

"I know right? They started croppin' up around the time that lab was put into use. Ain't nobody who really knows what the hell they're doin' in there!"

The only lights were the little twinkling stars and the moon that drifted in out of the clouded sky. The sky rumbled and in the distance, over the ocean, lighting danced across the sky.

The two turtle brothers raced across rooftops quickly and nimbly just as the four of them once had. Don was impressed by the dead silence in which Raphael traveled. Clearly his muscle headed brother had developed quiet talent for slinking around in the dark. There were a few times they were required to flip and slide across clothes lines on their descent to the dock, but all-in-all it was an event less journey.

When they reached the tiny parking lot by the building, Raphael led the way on the ground. There was a barely illuminated red 'Exit' sign the brothers stopped at. Suddenly, it too died as if it were on a battery.

Don was confused and wary. The emergency lights should have been on, but the building seemed to be the blackest building.

Raphael nudged his brother and with careful movements and showed Donatello that he had been there multiple times by carefully unlocking the electric fence with what appeared to be a duplicated key card. The locks were still on indicating some backup power existed, but not enough to maintain all the lights. Manually Raphael shoved the door open after the locks disengaged. He grinned at Don.

Don nodded in appreciation following behind.

The pair ignored the large No Trespassing sign as they sidled up to the building. Raphael led the way past several doors to small nook where a nearly perfectly blended door stood. They stepped out of the shadows, impressed by the quiet that surrounded them.

Donatello drooped his lab coat over his hand and stretched out to grasp the doorknob. It began jostling and then turning. Both he and Raphael retreated to the pitch-black shadows closest the wall to watch. The door opened, then shut with a small click.

What came out of the door was a silhouetted woman. The way her hands groped and held onto wall behind her indicated something was wrong. The woman kept swaying violently as each step was taken.

By Don's estimate she most likely in her mid twenties. Her hair was dreaded and was some lighter color. The shredded fabric that encased her body shined with water droplets and smelled distinctly of leather with a strange undercurrent of something mineral. The leather fabric was a dark color and judging by the cut and fit, built for what appeared to be a motorcycle rider.

After several moment of holding onto the wall, she shoved herself forward. She tumbled away from the side of the building. Her body swayed violently to the side as her balance was lost. In the rapidly vanishing moonlight, caught herself at an impossible angle before having to let herself lay on the ground. She turned her head slowly clearly trying to orient herself and stopped.

In this moment, both brothers knew the figure on the ground saw them. She had frozen for several moments before tilting her head away slightly and then returning back. Visually, she was trying to make sense of them. She might not even be sure if they were truly there.

She must have made of her mind they were really there because she said, "Hello?" her voice was breathless and fluctuating.

Raphael took the lead. "Hey." Raphael responded flatly.

Prostrate on her back with her head turned to the brothers she mumbled, "Are you guards?"

Raphael snorted, "No." he stepped forward from the shadow allowing the dying glow of the moon give him form," So, are ya the trickster who caused the blackout?"

"Sorta…" she responded, "But I'm…not going to get far." Tone became far away.

Donatello stepped forward beside his brother, "No. Lying on the ground you won't."

"I know." She agreed gathering her wits about her and tilted her head back to take them in. Her brow furrowed, "You look like…Are you two… turtles?" she asked confused, "Or am I rambling?"

Don was startled. He knew he was having trouble making her out, but she seemed to perceive them.

"Got it in one." Raphael snorted.

Don shot a dark glare at his brother. Apparently, being above the ground for so long had made him careless with personal information.

Raphael knelt beside the figure, "If you were trying to escape you should probably get up and run."

"Can't." she murmured, "Are you really a turtle?"

Snorting, Raph said, "What did I jus' say? Yes! I'm a turtle." He rolled his eyes, "Now, why the fuck not?"

She blinked slowly, "Everything's…spinning."

Donatello knelt down and placed a hand on either side of her skull and slowly moved her head to look up at him. He felt the shaking as she kept trying to jerk head back in a panic, "You have a severe balance disorder." He stated her hands jumped up and grabbed his wrists tightly, "What?"

"Don't move." She pleaded grip remaining tight.

"You need to move." Urged Donatello shortly, "The lights will becoming on soon."

"No. Not likely." Returned the girl her grip turning tighter as she started shaking, "I had to… destroy the main electric breaker and pull out a couple of fuses out of the back-up generators."

Raphael raised an arch, "Uh-huh… Are you a goddamn electrician?"

"No." she answered shortly, her body started shaking, "God fucking damn it." She whimpered.

"You are not moving and I am not moving." Reassured Donatello, "But Raph is right. If you aren't an electrician there is no guarantee that the lights will stay out."

She exhaled shakily, "This is a… timed operation." She answered struggling to keep the whimpering out of her voice, "I had my instructions. They will stay out long enough to get whatever else needs to be done, done."

Raphael's hands went to belt where the sais were located, "Timed operation?"

She picked up on his tone and spat out, "If you aren't a gaint turtle and are actually one of the guards, you ought to already know!"

Don kept his temper, "And if we're not? What would this operation entail?"

"Removal of the aquatic humanoid species- the mermaids." She grit her teeth, "Fucking make the spinning stop already!"

Donatello suddenly realized there was misunderstanding. His lab coat and Raphael's voice made her believe she was hallucinating. The information she gave… "Your cover was blown today." He deduced, "What type of stabilizer to do you typically take?"

"I don't know!" her voice came out in a sob, "I don't know…" her head kept jerking slightly as if it was trying to wrench itself from his grasp. He started making soft crying noises.

"She's really messed up." Raph muttered to brother, "What the hell is going on?"

"A balance disorder of sorts." He said, "Without proper testing, I guess this is an extreme case of vertigo. Which means it probably has other underlying problems."

"She can't stay here. Neither can we." Raph urged, "Its only a matter of time till guards inside come out."

"Why aren't they out now?" challenged Donatello looking around, "There is something seriously amiss."

Raphael nodded, "I'll buy that." He agreed, "But we gotta move. I'm startin' ta get antsy."

Donatello nodded then without warning he twisted his hand free from the death grip. With on hand he rolled her on her stomach and heard the panic muffled screech. He reached underneath her and hooked his elbows under her arms and pulled her up. Her spine acted rubbery as she flailed slightly trying to orient herself. He thrust his right knee between her buckling legs, and then stooped grabbing her by the leg and hoisting her on his back.

Her hands grabbed onto his coat and her knuckles bumped against his shell. That feeling jostled her and grabbed onto the edge of the shell. Then, she froze, "What the hell…?"

"We're turtles!" Raph began exasperatedly, but then there were muffled shouts coming from inside the building.

Donatello glanced at the door, "Move now!" he urged dashing back for the fence.

"Don't worry 'bout em." he flicked out a sai for caution's sake and followed behind Don.

Donatello felt something hard bouncing against his shoulder, "What's that?" He directed his question to his passenger.

"The… fuses." She answered, "Oh please stop moving!" her one hand held tight to his forearm.

"We can't." Don returned shortly darting through the large opening, "Unless you'd like to go back to that laboratory!" Now that she was slung over his back he could smell a coppery twinge, "Are you a mermaid?" he asked darting into the black shadows of the near by buildings. The people from the building had just come out, cursing and yelling.

"Do I look like I have a tail?" she responded in a short panicked voice.

"Goddamn it!" Raphael cursed as cold drops of rain began to fall.

Don silently agreed and his brain informed him that he smelled blood and felt the warm dribble. It was not the same as the rain and he realized it was coming down her arms to his hands, "Shit you're brutally injured!"

"Hmmm..." She groaned her grasp lightening every several steps.

"Do not go to sleep!" instructed Don angrily, "Stay with me! Talk to me!"

Raphael came up side by side with Don as they dashed though back allies, "Hey, Hey woman, ya got a name?" he asked trying to keep her awake.

"Piper." she responded almost lucidly, "Piper Webb."

The coppery smell did not smell right, "What's with your blood?" demanded Donatello, "Have you been poisoned?"

"No… Jus' cut…" her grip had become significantly less noticeable as the cold rain hit.

"Cut with what?" demanded Don starting shiver as his body temperature dropped.

"Hmm~… dunno…" but she became flaccid as whatever strength she had left faded.

"Raph, next manhole?!" demanded Don.

The red clad turtle pointed just ahead, "There! Shit!" he muttered dim lights began flicking into life, "Shit!" he sped ahead and haled the heavy metal covering off the ground. He began down swiftly and called up. "Hurry Donnie! Just let her drop when I get to the bottom!"

"Right!" Don frowned stopping besides the already opened covering. He knelt down and eased his rider onto the ground. The trembling from earlier was nothing compared to her current shaking.

Don was startled and placed his fingers against her cheek. He was startled how cold she felt. For a moment he thought she was dead, until he realized there was slow pulse.

"I'm down!" called Raphael from the bottom.

Dropping an injured person would not have been Donatello's first instinct, but he knew if she wanted a chance to survive he would have to, "Here she comes! Feet first!" he slid her into the opening and let her go.

Raph grunted as he caught her limb body, "Shit! Is she dead?"

Don slid his body into the hole, grabbing tightly to bars, "No!" called Don sliding the manhole cover towards him, "But she feels like a corpse." He stepped down several steps, and then dropped the cover over the opening. Quickly he shimmied down and met Raphael at the bottom.

Raphael had lifted her to himself listening quietly, "There's still a heart beat." He said confused and looked at his brother, "Where do we take her?"

"My lab will have medical equipment."

"Ya never managed fuses." Reminded Raphael.

Don reached into the black uniform and found the hard rectangular shaped fuses, "Our guest provided some. I'll have to hope they are compatible. Now we must go or risk letting her bleed to death."

Raphael nodded and took a turn carting their guest to his brother's lab.