Author's Note: I am so sorry. I've been totally obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for forever. But I kind of lost my gusto in it for a few years and just got back into it. I've been wanting to do something with this since I got back into it, but wasn't able to think of something to do, and then the idea just sort of came to me. This is a mixture of 2003 and 2012 versions of the television shows. There will be a little bit of things from both because I just can't make up my mind which one I love more, so yeah. XD This is my first time writing a TMNT fanfic to let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC and the story line.

Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a bit of language.

Words Count: 6,616

"I'll just take a coke, darling, and that will be all," the old man says, handing me the menu back. "I'm more interested in a place to sit and wait, than to eat."

I nod, scribbling down his order before turning away and walking over to the counter and giving it to Sam, who was flying back and forth behind it, helping all the patrons sitting at it. I ignore the looks sent my way. Some are kind enough to try and be discreet but other just blatantly stare at me as I walk around the diner. Sam gives me an exasperated look before picking up the black coffee pot and walking over to a man reading a newspaper and refills his drink. He mumbles his thanks without looking up from today's headline, even thought it's ten-thirty at night.

I can't imagine he'll get much from that.

Finally, Sam makes her way over to the soda machine and makes me a coke that I quickly give to the old man before returning to where she's waiting for me. Her short brown hair is pulled back into a tiny pony tail and a bunch of hairpins hold back the rest of the stubborn strands. Not like mine, pulled back into a messy bun on top of my head. She clicks her long, manicured finger nails on the countertop when I return.

"Got any plans tonight?" I ask, leaning on the counter in front of her, laying my elbows and forearms onto the smooth surface. "I don't really feel like going home after work today."

Sam smiles sadly. "Sorry, I got to get home early tonight. I got a class at eight tomorrow and I still have to finish a paper before then. I don't even think I'm going to get any sleep. I'd love to tool around with you, but not tonight. I'm free tomorrow, though."

I raspberry, nodding in understanding. Rubbing my temples a bit, a small pulsing headache forming right behind my forehead. "Okay. Tomorrow, then."

She smiles, holding out her hand, pinky out. "It's a promise."

I take it and we shake once on it. I pull away from the counter and walk around the diner again, checking on my other customers. About a half hour later, only two customers remain. The old man with the coke and another man at the bar reading a book.

"Okay," my manager, Keith, peaks his head out from the kitchen says, looking between Sam and I. "Kitchen's closing. Who's going to stay until closing?"

"I am," I answer right away, looking over at Sam, her mouth hanging open slightly. "It's my turn anyway. Go home." She smiles back at me and nods. She mouths her thanks and pulls her apron off, putting it under the counter before walking in back to get her things. Keith nods, making a note on the notepad that seems surgically attached to his hand, before disappearing back into the kitchen to finish cleaning. I slip behind the counter and clean up a bit, making my way over to the man reading the book.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" I ask.

He looks up at me for a split second, then back to his book. "No, I'm-" he starts but then stops and does a double take. "White..." he mumbles, blinking, then quickly clears his throat and looks down, flushing a bit in embarrassment. "No, nothing. Sorry. I should probably get going." And, with his head bowed, the man sipped the last of his coffee and laid down some money and scurried to the door.

"Sir," I call out to him. "You paid a twenty for a two dollar coffee! Don't you want your change?"

"Keep it!" He calls back, the door slamming behind him. I open my mouth, wondering if I should chase him down, but I can't just leave the front of the store unmanned. And that is about an eighteen dollar tip. For coffee! Damn, I should use my looks for good.

I pick up the money and the mug and walk over to the cash register, pulling out my tip before closing it again and placing the cup in the kitchen to be washed and stuffing the money into my pocket. I can hear Sam in the way back talking with Keith. I can't hear what they're saying and I don't draw close enough to try and find out. I've always wondered if perhaps they were hooking up after hours. I mean, Sam's twenty-two and Keith has got to be later twenties or at the most early thirties, but they seem to really like each other. Always sharing forbidden looks when they don't think I'd notice.

When I get back out front, the older man is chuckling. "You'd think he's never seen an albino before," the old man says between his laughs. "And not just that, but a man's pride will make him due strange things."

I feel the corner of my lips curve up a bit. "You'd think," I murmur. I grab a rag and walk over to clean the book customer's spot. "But I'm not complaining," I mumble which earns me another hearty chuckle. Sam comes out a moment later, saying her goodbyes and reminding me about tomorrow, before heading out. I finish up cleaning when Keith sticks his head back out through the kitchen door.

"Taylor, I'm going out back to smoke, make sure to lock up when everyone leaves. Come get me if you need anything," he reminds me. I nod, waving him away. Even at nineteen, I've locked up many times and needn't be reminded every time.

Once Keith is gone, the old man turns to look at me, holding his probably lukewarm soda between two wrinkly hands. "Taylor? That's a pretty name," he says more to himself than to me. I hum in agreement.

"Yeah, it's both a boy and a girl name. And probably one of the most popular. But it's kind of you to say that."

The old man scoots his half full glass around the table a bit. "Sort of like my own, hm? Andrew." He says, then points himself. "That's my name."

"Nice to meet you, Andrew," I say, turning to pick at a spot on the counter with my nail. Keith, the cleaning Nazi, would kill me if I attempted to leave without making this place look spick and span.

He smiles kindly, finally pulling himself to his feet and putting some change on the table. He pulls a cane out from under the table and walks to the door. "I'll see you around, dear," he says. "Good luck."

"Goodnight, Andrew," I say back, half listening as I try and clean a pesky spot. Rag in hand I make my way over to his table to clean it up. I pause when I spot a silver flash drive sitting in the center of the table. I pick it up and spin around, running to the door and opening it up, looking around in the darkness. "Andrew? Andrew? You forgot..." For an old man walking with a cane he's certainly fast.

I stuff the flash drive into my pocket, making a mental note to keep it with me until I see Andrew again and lock the door and turn the open sign off. Right as I'm half way to the back a loud crash makes me jump and turn around. A rock about the size of my fist rolls over to me, having busted one of the windows on the door right out, shattering it to a million tiny pieces all around the doorway.

"Son of a bitch," I mutter, walking to the door and peaking out into the blackness. My shoes crunch the glass even more, regardless of how careful I try to step. I can't really see much. Most of the other stores around us are closed. There is one, across the street that's still open, but it provides little light this far away. I unlock the door and step outside, looking around a little more closely. I groan and turn back around, walking over to the rock and picking it up. "Damn kids," I grumble before turning back toward the door and tossing the rock outside and walking around the back to see Keith smoking.

"What's wrong?" he asks when he sees me.

"Those damn kids threw a rock through the front door window, again," I tell him. He throws the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. He brushes past me, muttering curses under his breath.


By the time I had given my statement to the police and changed out of my uniform into jeans and a tee-shirt, it was already one-thirty. Keith told me to go home, that he would finish the cleaning so I took the opportunity and I slipped away from the flashing red and blue lights and began to make my way home. I've lived in New York all my life, but even I hated myself a little bit when I spaced out in the middle of the night when I know I shouldn't have. Native or tourist, no matter what, New York will eat anyone and everyone alive.

But I had walked this way hundreds of times and nothing bad had ever happened to me. The typical cliché. So when I rounded the corner to one of the narrower side streets that I take home and there is about a dozen guys all gathered around as if they were waiting for something, warning bells went off in my head. And when I walked around that corner and they all turned to look at me, I had a very bad idea of what they could be waiting for. But not a clue in the world as to why.

They all straighten up at the sight of me, one of them looks down at something in his hands that he had been fiddling around with and nods. "She's the one." And then they began advancing on me. I don't know what in the world I did, but there was no way I was going to stick around to find out. I spin around on my heel, glad I decided to wear my comfortable gym shoes today as opposed to the new boots, and run for it. For New York being so populated, I can't believe there is hardly any people out and about when someone is being chased through the city.

I duck into a back ally that immediately leads to a dead end. I look around, scanning the area to see a dumpster right under a ladder to my left. I quickly climb up the dumpster, unable to stop the involuntary gag and the watering of my eyes, before I blindly wave my arm around at the blurry ladder. I whack my knuckles off of it before grabbing hold and pulling myself up.

"Over here!" one of them calls, far too close for my comfort. "She's going for the roof."

I'm not a thrill seeker. I have no desire to go running around, putting my life in danger or making myself the center of attention any more than I usually am. Being very pale, even to the point of partial translucency, with snow white hair and eyebrows and even eyelashes and almost purple eyes, I attract a lot of attention. It makes it hard for someone like me to hide in a crowd or in this case, hide in darkness. My hair is like a snowy white beacon for whoever these guys are.

I reach the top and heave myself over, feeling a bit light headed from the exertion. I'm not as much in shape as I probably should be. And right now, I wish I was in better shape. I run across the roof, looking for another way down, or at least to another roof and spot two buildings close enough together to jump, it's hardly two feet. I wouldn't wish to risk any larger a gap, if I could help it. I make the jump and fast walk, holding a stitch in my side, weaving amongst the random things on the roof. The air conditioning units and all the other things I can't name that sit on almost every roof I've ever seen.

Daringly, I twist around to see one of the men now climbing onto the other roof, I've put a great deal of distance between us, but now I don't know where to go. I spin around, searching for another close roof, or perhaps a way down. I run over to one of the ledges, it's got the closest roof than the others, but a lot more than two feet. I step near the ledge and look down, feeling a bit of vertigo. I shake it off, not wanting to fall to my death and let out a bark of a laugh.

Down five stories, at street level, is a man and woman walking down an alley, talking.

"Hey!" I yell, waving my arms around. Both man and woman look around. "Up here! Look up!" I yell, twisting around a bit to see now five men are on the other roof, closing in quickly. "Help! Call the police! I'm being chased!" I could hear my voice being echoed off the builds, I just have to hope that they could understand me. It would be my luck that they would be foreigners who barely speak English and can't understand me, or think this all some kind of practical joke.

"You need help?" The man yelled up, stepping back from the building a bit, probably to get a better look up at me.

"Yes!" I yell. "Help!"

"Hang on!" the man and woman both shout. I hear footsteps rapidly approach from behind me.

I spin around to see one of the men almost on top of me. I jump right, wishing, in vain, that it would be one of those times when the bad guy goes flying off over the edge and that's one less to deal with, but no such luck. He catches himself and turns to face me.

"Come with me, girl," he says, holding out a hand as if he expected me to take it. He's got a deep scar across his right cheek.

I shake my head and back up, looking around again. Anything that I could use to get down and now I suddenly hate myself for going to the roofs to begin with. I look to my right, at the building. The length between these two buildings is a lot larger than two feet. It's probably almost my height, if not more. It's either stay here and get taken by this guy and his friends for god knows what reason and what they'll do to me, or jump and hope I make it to the other side and not plummet to my death.

He catches my look at the building. "You won't make it," he says, eyes narrowing.

"I know, but I got to try," I say, then step back a few paces then run as fast and as hard as I could, not giving myself a moment to pause before I push off the roof and am floating in mid air. I half land on the building, half don't. The corner of the building hitting my gut makes me both winded and feel like I'm going to barf everywhere, and my racing heart isn't helping. I scramble, pulling myself entirely onto the roof and sit there a moment, shaking with both adrenaline and fear. I can't believe I did that. I could have died!

A human's fight or flight instinct is amazing. I've never been put into a situation like this before, and hope to never again, so I've never known. I mean, I always heard the stories, mom's being able to lift cars off their children, I just never thought that would be me. That had to be almost five feet, if it wasn't at least! I've never jumped that far before.

But now isn't the time to celebrate. I twist around a bit to see the man preparing to make his jump, his friends closing in quickly, picking up speed. They're going to jump too, and they aren't going to stop and debate. Who the hell are these guys? Surely they have the wrong person! Why go through all this trouble for someone? They could fall off one of these buildings and die!

This all feels like one of those horror movies where I'd be screaming at the heroine to stop being so stupid and start thinking clearly. Now that I'm in the damsel's shoes, I am actually a bit sympathetic. I'm making this up as I go. I have no idea how someone could plan ahead with all this madness!

I scramble to my feet, my arms and legs feel like jelly on sticks, as I force myself to run. I nearly trip and fall two or three times, but manage to push myself up and keep going. I jump down to a lower roof, about a story drop. Okay, I fell. I turned my head slightly to see how close those guys were and I went flying. Luckily, the roof was really close and I only fucked up my knee a bit. It burned to put weight on it, sort of like when I hit my funny bone on something, before the pain eased and I was running on it normally again.

But that gave the scarred man ample time to catch up to me. He reaches out and grazes my arm, his skin is cold. The night is slightly chilly, but all I can feel is heat of exertion and pain, everywhere. Throbbing pain with my heart beat. The second time he grabs at me, his hand wraps around my arm. Without thinking, I claw at his offending forearm with my nails, he jerks his hand back a moment later.

I turn forward right as another guy, who somehow slipped around and got in front of me, was about to wrap his arms around me, that I slipped on the gravel on the roof and accidently head-butt him in the gut. I didn't plan that at all and it left both of us a bit disoriented. But it did get me face to face with a wrench forgotten on the roof. A stroke of luck!

The scarred man grabs my arm, right as I grab the wrench, and pulls me to him. I swing the wrench, closing my eyes as it connected with the side of his head, dropping him immediately with a yelp of pain. It's at this point that I would like to say that I became super badass and kicked some creepo butt, but instead, in my haste to put as much distance between myself and my pursuers, I fell headlong off the side of the building. My entire life flashed before my eyes. Way too fast for me to recall most of it.

A loud scream ripped from my throat. It sounded strange, unlike me. Here I was, about to die, and all I could think about was how my scream didn't sound like me. Like I could have somehow rehearsed it or something. But the strange thought was cut short when I hit something hard, not as hard as I thought the concrete would be and not nearly as cold. In fact, it was warm. And it wrapped around me.

I look at what I landed on and made a noise of confusion. It certainly wasn't the concrete alley I was expecting. It was a chest. A broad, not human chest. We hit something. No, he's hanging onto something, pinning me between himself and the brick wall of the building. A single, strong arm around me. I look down at the green limb, not sure I understand what I'm seeing.

"Who...?" I gasp, looking up the strange hard, muscly body to the green face, without nose or ears. A - what I think is blue - bandana-mask across his eyes and a large turtle shell on his back. Two strange prongs sticking off of it. Big, light blue eyes stare down at me.

"Shh," it - he? - whispers, pressing as close as possible without hurting me, and looked up. I can just barely make out about a dozen heads poking out over the edge, looking for me. It seems this huge... whatever he is, is holding onto the bottom of a windowsill. We are obscured by both the darkness of the half moonlit night, and a large vent blowing out steaming hot air. I look around to see three other dark masses, hanging off the wall like growths.

He shifts his weight a bit, readjusting his grip on the windowsill with, dear lord, a three fingered hand.

I swallow thickly, decided my life meant more to me than my pride or fear. I wrap my arms around his neck and legs around his waist and... shell, which was a little weird. Or a lot weird. And held on tight.

"Sorry," I murmur, trying to get my arms comfortable around his neck with the top of his... shell sort of in the way. Once I'm settled, I put my face in his shoulder and whisper, "You can hold on to the ledge more securely now. Please and thank you."

He clears his throat before slowly unwrapping his arm from around me, ready to close it again if I suddenly slip. "Um, thanks."

"Yeah," I mumble, "just don't fall."

He grabs onto the bottom of the window with the other arm too and adjusts himself one more time to accommodate for our new and different position, before settling still. "Raph," he says, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him even being so close, "you and Mikey, try and divert their attention. Donnie, try and sneak around them and catch them off guard. I need to get her to safety, then I'll come to assist you."

"Of course Leo gets to help out the cutie," one of them says.

"Shut up, Mikey," Leo growls. "This is serious."

"Yeah, come on," says another, the one closest to us turns to look at us. "The sooner we get up there, the sooner we can figure out what is going on." He's also got a mask on. It looks to be... a dark pink? No, red. It's got to be red.

I look back and forth and watch as the guy with the red bandana and the one furthest away both start scaling the building, going sideways before disappearing around corners. After a long, drawn out moment of me squeezing the guy with the blue bandana's neck, to which he didn't complain to, just shifted a little, I heard what sounded like battle cries and the clanking of metal, signifying fighting.

"Go Donnie," the guy holding me says and the last one moves, crawling up the building.

"Be careful, and hurry up, Leo," the final one says before crawling over the top onto the roof.

"Okay," the one with the blue mask - Leo - says, looking back down at me. "Hold on tight. I'm going to climb down."

My heart rate, which for some reason started to slow down, speeds up again and I cling to the giant turtle tightly. "Oh my god, please don't fall. I'm scared. Oh my god, I don't want to die."

"I'm not going to drop you, or fall," Leo says. A pause, then, "If something happens, I'll catch you, okay? Don't panic."

I nod jerkily, but hold on tighter nonetheless. Leo slowly makes his way down, each sudden movement pulls a little squeak of fear and a little jump. But Leo doesn't seem to loose patience, even listening to the sound of his friends fighting above us. In fact, he tries to get my mind off of it.

"What's your name?"

"T-Taylor..." I mumbles, tensing again. "Y-You're Leo?"

He nods, pausing to reach over to grab something to continue our decent. "I am. And do you know who was chasing you?" I shake my head no. "Any idea as to why?" I shake my head again. He hums. "We can talk more in a moment, okay? This is just a little drop, so hold on."

My eyes widen and I tense up even more. "Wait, what? What are you talking abou-" Leo lets go and the scream that wanted to rip from me gets caught in my throat when we hit the ground a moment later. I'm practically glued to him for a moment, trying to process the fact that we are now on the ground, before I practically melt to the floor, all my limbs ache from being so tense. I'm shaking again.

"Stay here, I'll be back. If more guys show up, scream, my brothers and I will come for you," Leo says. "For now, hide." And then he's gone, climbing up the building at lightning speed. I shakily climb to my feet and stagger over to the opposite wall, hitting it harder than I intended. That's going to bruise my shoulder later. And this night couldn't get much worse. I peak out of the alley looking left, then right, then left again to see no one, before I stumble out and head left, away from the sound of fighting but also away from home.

My entire body is throbbing in beat with my head. I feel dizzy and sick. I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off and pure fear and weariness has taken it's place. I'm not sure how long I was stumbling down the strangely deserted streets before a woman appeared. She had really long red hair. A very pretty color. It looked good on her.

"Oh my god," she says, running over to me. "I found you. Are you okay? Those men chasing you, they didn't hurt you, did they?"

I squint at her, wondering how she could have known that, but then I remember. "You're the woman. You were in that alley with that man."

She nods. "Yes. I'm April and that was Casey. He's gone to help our friends take care of your... pursuers," she says, crinkling up her nose a bit. She reaches out and takes my hand. "Come on, let's get you out of here. Let the guys do their thing."

I follow her, not sure I could pull away even if I wanted to. "The turtle guys? They're friends of yours?"

She looks over at me, a worried look on her face. "Um, yeah." She gives me a look. "There's a bench over here. Come on, you look like you need to sit down." She pulls me down the street a bit and then across it to the bench she was referring to in front of a bus stop. I practically fall onto the bench. The redhead lowers herself next to me slowly. "What's your name?"

"I don't know anymore," I mumble, staring wide-eyed across the street feeling like I'm going to puke everywhere. I take a few deep breaths before shaking the dizziness from my mind. "No, it's Taylor."

The girl, April, is quiet for a moment before, asking, "Are you okay?"

I look over at her, eyes wide. I don't know the words to explain how I was. I was shaken, afraid, nauseous, worried, tired, frightened and so much more all at once. Today was a really strange day. My head really hurts right now. I feel like I'm going to die. Everything hurts, my head is splitting, and I honestly want to cry, but can't muster the strength to. I wish I could fall asleep here without worrying about getting mugged, kidnapped or shot. But there is one thing I'm certain of: I'm definitely going to the gym and build up my strength.

I don't do anything else but work and sit at home all day. Perhaps this is the excuse I've been looking for to start doing things.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" April asks, tilting her head with a sympathetic look on her face.

I shrug my shoulders, drooping a little against the bench. "I don't know. It feels like this is some kind of bad dream, and the punch line is turtles." I shake my head, slumping more.

April laughs a bit. "Sorry, but this isn't a bad dream. Any idea what they could have wanted?"

I shake my head. "No clue. I'm no one. I work at a diner, for god's sake! My only shining feature is that I'm albino. That's it. I'm strange to look at."

"No way!" April says, turning toward me. "You don't look weird! You're beautiful!"

A laugh that lacked mirth, escapes me as I sit up a bit and turn toward her. "I'm not fishing for compliments. It's just a fact. There is nothing particular about me. Other than my looks." I look over at April and for a moment, wish I had beautiful red hair as rich and bright at her own. Even though her hair is simply pulled back into a pony tail at the back of her head, it just looks beautiful, lush and full. April is beautiful.

April is quiet for a moment, trying to arrange her thoughts. She glances over from where we came from. I follow her gaze but all I see is dark buildings. Well, darkness, but I'm sure there is building in there somewhere. I'm not even sure which of the hidden buildings I nearly fell from. No, I did fall. I was just caught by a man-turtle or turtle-man. I'm not sure which is which. A man dressed up in a very convincing turtle suit or a giant turtle that looked kind of like a man. I don't know.

I lean forward on the bench, elbows on knees and face in hands, rubbing my temples roughly. My head is splitting, now everywhere through my skull. I open my eyes right as two pairs of three toed, green feet landed in front of me. I jump, letting out a yelp and throwing myself back into the bench, hand over my heart. My eyes fly between the two giant turtles. They are different shades of green and different heights. One has an orange bandana-mask and the other had purple one.

The orange one holds his hands up, grinning. "Sorry, sorry! Nice to meet you, I'm Mikey. And this is Donnie." He gestures toward the purple masked turtle. I settle in my seat a little more, hand still over my rapidly beating heart.

"Nice to meet you..." I look over at April, who's glaring at the two of them.

"You guys! Be a little more considerate, okay? She was just chased through the city not ten minutes ago, don't you think having a little bit of a lead foot here would have been nice?" April asks, shaking her head.

"Sorry, April," Donnie says, scratching the back of his neck before looking over at me. "You too, sorry about that. Sometimes we forget. I hope we didn't scare you, miss...?"

"Rowan. Taylor Rowan," I say, finally lowering my hand from my chest, swallowing thickly. They seemed pleasant and friendly enough. "Where is the others? Wasn't there four of you guys?"

The orange one - Mikey - nods briskly. "Yes, ma'am! Raph and Leo were just checking out the area to make sure there is no one else around. They should be making their way over here soon." He beams at me.

"Where's Casey?" April asks.

"He's with Leo and Raph," Mikey says, folding his arms behind his head and leaning on his right hip.

"So, everything is okay now?" April asks, looking between the two. "Those guys ran off?"

"After a major butt whooping!" Mikey says, bouncing up and down.

Donnie gives him a look before shaking his head and looking over at April and I. "Yeah, they were trained pretty well. Better then the Purple Dragons but not quite like the Foot Clan." He rubs his chin in thought. "There was about a dozen of them. It's hard to believe that they would put that much effort into just one person." He narrows his eyes.

"Did you find anything out?" April asks. "Any idea what they could want?"

Donnie sighs. "Unfortunately no. They weren't too interested in talking."

"Figures," April mumbles, glaring at the ground. "We'll just have to be more careful." She nods, more to herself than to us.

"So it's safe for now?" I murmur, standing up slowly. I reach up to feel my hair and it's hardly holding on anymore. I let my hair down, pulling the hair bow from my thick locks, and retying it. "I think... yeah, I think I'm going to go home now."

"What?" April and Mikey say, April jumping to her feet.

"I don't think so," Donnie says. "You aren't safe! They could still be out there somewhere."

I raise an eyebrow looking between the three of them. "Thanks guys, but it's really not your problem. I'll just... head home for tonight and then go stay with some friends or something until whatever this is blows over." Just as the words started leaving my mouth, all three of them were shaking their heads.

"What if they come back for you, Taylor?" Mikey asks, blue eyes wide. "You could use some super awesome ninja butt kickers at your back!" I stare at him blankly, wonder what he just said to me. Ninjas? This day and age? Then I realized he was talking about himself and the other three giant turtles. So they associate themselves as ninja?

"Right," Donnie says, giving Mikey a look, before returning his attention to me. "But Mikey's correct. We fended them off once, but I'm sure that didn't dissuade them from continuing their efforts for whatever it is that they wanted you for."

April nods, stepping in between the two turtles to look at me, like a show of force somehow. "Donnie's right. Let us help you out."

I raise my eyebrow again. "You want to help out a stranger? A girl and her boyfriend and four giant turtles?" April looks a little surprised. Then a little embarrassed.

"C-Casey isn't my boyfriend. We are just friends, and yes, we want to help you out. And by we, I mean myself, Casey and my four turtle brothers," she says, a little flushed.

I blink in surprise. This was new. "Your brothers dress up as turtles? Or your brothers are turtles?"

April looks confused for a moment. "They are turtles who I see as brothers. No blood relation."

"Oh," I say. "So they aren't brothers to each other?"

Mikey puts his hands over his head. "My brain hurts!"

"No," Donnie says, stepping in. "Raph, Leo, Mikey and I are all brothers. But Casey and April are like part of the family. The adoptive family."

"Oh," I say again, but this time in understanding. "Okay, then. Well, that was a little more complex than I suppose it should have been. But really, thanks for the help but I'm sure you guys have got... other things to do with your time..." As I say it I have to wonder just how true that is. If they are really four giant talking turtles, then I don't know, but if they are four guys dressed up as turtles, I can't imagine what kind of lifestyle you would have outside the suit.

"Not really," Donnie admits, albeit a bit sheepishly. "But that's what we do, help people in need."

Now that one was cliché. A bunch of vigilantes we got here. But I wasn't about to say that to their faces. "Thanks, but I don't have the money right now to pay for protection."

"What?" Mikey says again, looking confused. "We could get paid for this?"

April shoots him a dirty look. "No," she looks back over at me, "we don't do it for money."

"Then for what?" I ask to which all three stared back at me. April and Donnie looked sheepish while Mikey looked innocently oblivious.

"To fight crime!" Mikey cheers, looking very proud. Both April and Donnie flinch as if they thought the same thing and realized just how unbelievable it sounded, even to themselves. Mickey didn't seem to see it that way.

I nod slowly, stepping around them. "Okay, thanks, but I'd better go. I've caused enough trouble, as is. Thank for your help today."

"Wait, Taylor," April calls after but I keep going. This entire thing was strange.

First these random guys start chasing me, then by chance I spot the two people in the entire city of New York that are out this late at night and those two people happen to be part of a group that involves four giant turtles that fight crime? In a way, this all seems a bit staged. Like when the Purple Dragons would vandalize places and then come back later and demand protection money. But on the opposite end, they weren't interested in money. And they did help me out when they didn't have to. But still, it's strange.

"You're not safe out here!" Mikey calls out.

"It's New York City," I call back, turning around and walking backwards down the sidewalk slowly. "This entire place is unsafe. But so is the rest of the world." I turn back around and take a few more steps before stopping and turning back. "Oh, hey guys!" They seemed to be half turned to each other, before looking back over at me. "Tell that guy, your brother. The one who caught me, I mean. Leo, I think. Tell him thanks for me. And nice catch." With that, I slip down a side street and take the longest, most complex way possible home, hoping and praying, that no one followed me.

I lock all my doors and windows and pull all the shades. Then I grab a change of clothes and head into the bathroom to quickly shower. I didn't realize I was sweating up a storm, even for it being as cold as it was. By the time I finished and crawled into bed it was already about four in the morning. I groan, digging my face into my pillow and wishing to just forget everything for the night. I slip out of bed on last time to get some headache medicine before collapsing back into it and falling none-too-gracefully into slumber.