A/N : Sorry this was so long in coming. This chapter, although short, was a total pain in my rear. No one wanted to cooperate with me so I apologize if its total crap. This was a filler chapter – a means to an end. Now that it's out of the way…we can get down to the good stuff!!

Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT and make now profit from the writing of this fic. Nadia and Alex are both mine though.

Chapter 4: Faded Memories

The distant, rhythmic beeping and lull of hushed voices eventually pulled Nadia from her fitful slumber, pulled her from dreams of imaginary, man-sized turtles captaining giant ships on the high seas, coming to save her from the tyrannical lord holding her hostage. With a tiny groan, Nadia opened her eyes, blinking several times to clear the fog of sleep. Her brows drew together in confusion as she took in her surroundings – a shadowed room with plain white walls, a narrow window with the blinds pulled, a small television mounted on the wall and several machines – where was she?

The beeping that had pulled her from her sleep incessantly caught her attention once more and she glanced back behind her. The creases of confusion smoothed immediately when she saw the variety of hospital machinery lined along the wall beside her bed. That's right. She'd started having contractions and come to the hospital. Events played over in her mind – hazy, blurred images that made no sense. She could remember leaving her apartment and collapsing in the alley. How she got to the hospital though…that she was unclear on.

She sat up in bed, wincing as the IV inserted in her arm tugged lightly. Readjusting the line, she pulled her knees up and draped her arms over them, trying to piece her disjointed thoughts together. She remembered pain. That she could remember quite clearly. She could remember the hospital staff fussing over her and how everything had shifted into clarity once they'd managed to get her contractions to stop and the pain had settled. She winced, recalling how the doctor had told her in no uncertain terms that if she continued treating herself the way she had been, she would lose her baby. Her hands instinctively went to her stomach in a protective gesture, smoothing over the unflattering hospital smock. She wanted her baby. She hadn't intentionally tried to harm it. Things had just been…they'd been so horrible and functioning from day to day had become such an exhausting task.

Obviously she'd been delirious from the exhaustion if her creative memory remembered…a turtle? A big, walking, talking turtle in jeans and a black jacket. Why would she think of a turtle in the midst of all of that confusion and pain? Why would that be the one thing her mind would conjure up to get her through what was happening? She must have been completely out of her mind to create something that bizarre.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door and she lifted her head, offering a strained smile to the doctor who walked in.

"How are we today, Ms. Ramos?" he asked as he tucked her chart under his arm and gave her a generic smile of his own.

"I'm fine," she conceded softly. She wasn't entirely comfortable around the man who had lectured her on her poor health and the danger she was putting her unborn child in with her choices. "When can I go home?"

The doctor looked over her chart, his brows lowering slightly. "I'll sign the release forms when I'm done in here. We just need to take a quick blood sample, check the fetus to make sure there are no lingering signs of distress." The chart went under his arm again and he folded his hands in front of him. "The big thing here, Nadia, is that you start taking care of yourself. Sleep more, eat better and by better I mean more often. Don't hesitate to reach for a pint of cookie dough ice cream in the middle of the night. I'm giving you a prescription for magnesium sulfate to stop the contractions until your health improves. You can pick it up on your way out at the pharmacy on the first level. Now, this is only a temporary solution. I have complete confidence that if you can regain your health and get back to where we need you to be, there should be no further complications with your pregnancy. Until you're back to full health, I want you to see your OB GYN twice a week so we can make sure that these…concerns…don't remain an issue, okay?"

Feeling as if she was being chastised yet again, Nadia dropped her gaze and nodded.

"Nadia."

His soft tone was a welcome change from the hard no-nonsense tone he had been using on her. She looked up.

"I'm not trying to attack you here. I just want you to understand the importance of your situation." He set her chart at the foot of the bed and sat down beside her. "Any stress that you're under, you put your baby under."

"I know," she murmured. She wrung her hands together, trying to focus on them instead of the hot sting of tears.

"Can I ask…was this pregnancy planned?"

She shook her head.

"Do you have any family that can-."

"No," she whispered, cutting him off.

He was silent for a moment, studying the young mother in front of him, wanting to question but knowing it was pointless. "You know, we don't often do this but," he reached into the pocket of his white hospital coat and withdrew a card. "My wife's sister works here. It's a center for women. They have counselors, groups - they have resources to help young mothers. And they're free and confidential." He held the card out to her. "Give them a try."

Nadia stared at the card which looked like nothing more than a manila colored blur in a large tanned hand. She reached out and took it, blinking several times until the name on the business card came into focus – NYC Women's Crisis Center. She looked up at the doctor. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Nadia." He stood, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Take care of yourself. I expect to be delivering that healthy baby boy of yours in about five months here."

"I didn't know it was a boy," she murmured, her voice weak and tired.

The doctor looked confused for no more than a second before a genuine smile lit his face. "Yes, you're having a boy. Congratulations Nadia."

He picked up her chart and was out the door, her breathy "thank you" never reaching him. Once he was gone, she allowed the tears to fall, tightening her arms around her stomach. She was going to have a boy. She had always wanted a boy. Something about knowing made it all so real. She had always known she was pregnant. But her baby was something more than a fetus growing within her now. It was a boy – a little, struggling boy. She silently vowed to protect him with everything she had in her, apologizing for her mistakes and her single-mindedness up until this point. Well, she wasn't going to be like that anymore. She was going to do exactly what the doctor had told her to do. She was going to get healthy – starting with a big t-bone steak, marinated zucchini and buttermilk biscuits.

That thought kept her company through the blood sample, through the hospital discharge, and wrapped her in a sense of warmth and certainty as she walked brusquely out of the hospital, prescription in hand, resolution to keep her son healthy stronger than it had ever been before.

The nip in the air had her jogging the last block back to her humble brownstone. She made her way up to the second floor and let herself into her cozy two bedroom apartment, letting out a content sigh once the door was closed behind her and she was once again in the one place she felt safe and welcome.

She set her prescription bag on the counter and went to the fridge, taking out a package holding a single t-bone steak that she'd bought on a whim when she'd moved to New York and setting it in the sink to defrost. Next, she reached into the cupboard above her small microwave and pulled out a package of oreo's. Armed with the calorie filled treat and a glass of water, she went to the couch, took a few cookies from the package before setting it on the simple round glass table separating the couch from the television and the wall of windows framing it, and settled back with her glass of water.

Her intentions were to stuff each oreo greedily in her mouth and wash them down with water, but once she was settled, her thoughts drifted in an entirely opposite direction. The cookies in her hand ended up beside her on the couch and she pressed her palm to the small bump where her son was nestled safely. Her son. She felt the need to tell somebody but she had nobody to tell. Had the circumstances been different, her parents would have been thrilled to have a grandson. They probably would have thrown together an impromptu party, inviting any family member within a fifty mile radius.

"You have shamed yourself. You have shamed our family. I will not be a father to a disrespectful whore who is too self-involved to think of anyone's feelings but her own."

"Father…please. I didn't-."

"Get out."

"Get…father, you can't possibly mean-."

"I said…get…out."

The words rang so clearly in her head that she felt as if she were back in her parent's living room, looking from her father's enraged face to where her mother sat, her expression impassive and uncaring. The only difference now was that her heart didn't feel as if it were breaking. The dull ache and sadness still lingered, but she'd grown rather used to it.

"I promise," she said, looking down at her stomach and rubbing it softly, "that I will always be there for you, no matter what. Not a minute in your life will pass where I don't love you with my entire heart."

She felt a little flutter and smiled. She imagined that he had heard her and was showing her that he understood. Turning on the television, she picked up an oreo and settled back into the couch, munching away as she thought of different names for her baby.

Several names sifted through her mind – Zack, Nathan, Ben, Michelangelo. Michelangelo…

Her chewing slowed and her brows furrowed together. Why did that name sound familiar? She shifted against the couch, settling in deeper as her mind turned the name over and over, searching for purchase amongst her muddled thoughts. After several minutes it found nothing and Nadia couldn't help but feel a small pang of disappointment. There was something important about that name…something she should know.

With a sigh, she laid down – cookies, water and television forgotten. She was asleep within minutes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mike. Hey, Mikey." Raphael clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder, frowning when the youngest jumped.

Michelangelo had been sitting listless on the couch for the better part of two hours, staring daggers into the coffee table. After seeing how attentive and almost painfully aggressive he was in practice this morning, followed up by the sudden morose attitude, Raphael was more than just a little concerned.

"What?" Michelangelo asked, casting a disinterested look up at his brother before returning his gaze to the coffee table once more.

Raphael moved around the couch and sank down beside him. "What's your deal, bro? You been mopin' around here all day."

Michelangelo took up the remote and started flipping aimlessly through channels. "No deal. Can't a guy watch TV?"

"Sure, if you're actually watchin' TV. You've been starin' at the coffee table. The thing ain't that interestin'."
"Sure it is," Michelangelo muttered.

"Hey." The older terrapin nudged his younger brother lightly in the arm. "Just tell me you're alright and I'll leave ya alone."

Michelangelo looked up. "I'm alright, Raph." He said the words, but his eyes conveyed an entirely different story. The optimism that usually shown from every bit of those blue eyes was gone and there was a sadness he'd never seen his brother express before. It was unnerving to see Michelangelo any way other than an energetic ball of never-ending cheerfulness. He wouldn't press though. It wasn't Raphael's style to force information out of his brothers. Thugs, sure. But not his brothers.

"Okay, Mikey." He sat silent for a moment, feigning interest in what was on the television. He wouldn't press Michelangelo for information, but that didn't mean he was going to sit there and not try to figure out what was bothering him. Whatever it had been had happened earlier that morning when Alex had come back from the hospital to visit some woman they'd helped in an alley. "Hey, Alex talked to you when she got back from the hospital, right? She say anythin' about that chick you guys helped?"

"No," was the only dull reply he got.

"Thought she went to visit her?"

"She did."

"And she didn't say how she's doin'? If she made it through the night okay?"

"No."

"Mikey…you-."

Michelangelo suddenly stood, tossing the remote carelessly onto the couch where it bounced off and clattered loudly onto the floor. "Listen, I said I was alright. Leave it alone, would ya?"

He stalked off, leaving Raph in a state of confusion and mild irritation. "What the hell?" he muttered before standing up himself and making his way back to the room he shared with Alex. If Mikey wouldn't give him answers, he knew someone who would.

In his room, Alex was laying on the bed watching the small television she'd bought for them. She was propped up on every available pillow and munching chex mix from a bowl resting on her stomach.

"You're kiddin' right?" he muttered, leaning against the doorframe and giving her a dry look.

She glanced up from her show, her bright smile drawing him into the room and onto the bed. "Whatever, if it was a beer can you'd appreciate the idea."

Raph chuckled, grabbed a handful of chex mix, then made her move over with a little nudge before settling in beside her. "Hey, what's up with Mikey?"

"Hm?" Alex looked up at him, one brow arched in question.

"Mikey. Ever since you talked to him this morning he's been actin' like some moody teenager."

She looked startled by the news. "He has been? I…I didn't think it was that bad?"

"Didn't think what was that bad?" Taking the remote from her, he hit mute. "What happened at the hospital?"

Alex set the bowl of chex mix aside and shifted to face him, crossing her legs. "That girl we saved, Nadia? I didn't actually see her when I went there. I overheard some nurses talking about how she had been going on about me and Mikey last night, then this morning acted like nothing had happened. She thought we were just figments of her imagination and I didn't see a point in correcting her. In a better state of mind there was no guarantee that she'd react the same way she did in the alley and be so accepting. I just…I didn't know Mikey would take it so hard. He only knew her for maybe ten minutes at the most."

"Well what happened in those ten minutes? Had to be somethin'."

Alex shrugged but played the events over in her head. "She was just really nice to him. She wasn't afraid of him. She walked up to him, put her hands on either side of his face then said something in Spanish and I guess that's about the time he kind of melted all over her. I mean, she had the initial shock thing," she backtracked, remembering Nadia's nervous pacing and lilting accent tripping over words she didn't understand. "But once she got over it, it was like she was talking to a long lost friend."

"Well that would do it."

"No," Alex leaned into the pillows and started picking at the fabric. "Maybe if she'd been coherent at the time, it would have. Something seemed off about her though. She was in a lot of pain and I don't think it really occurred to her that we were…real."

"Mikey didn't see that?" Raph asked, finding it hard to believe that Michelangelo would have been that oblivious.

"Did I mention that she kind of resembles Selma Hayek?"

Raph made a sound of understanding, nodding once. Selma Hayek was high on Mikey's list of female actors he was attracted to.

"You don't think that he…fell for her that quickly, do you?" Alex asked.

"It's Mikey," Raph stated simply, as if that explained everything. In present company, it did.

Sighing, Alex brushed her hair back into a ponytail, using the band around her wrist to secure it. "Suppose I should go talk to him, huh?"

"Hey, if you can. I tried and he bit my head off. Told me to leave him alone."

Alex started to move off the bed, then stalled, turning back to face Raph who'd already taken up the remote and started changing the channel. "You know…there was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's that?" he asked, not looking away from the television.

"Well," she started nervously. "I was thinking that it might….it might be nice to have our own place." His head shot up, television forgotten and she quickly rushed on. "Not that I don't like it here. I do. The lair has been a great home to me but…"

"But?" Raph prompted when she stalled out.

With a sigh, she crawled across the bed to him, straddling his waist and sitting on his legs. "It would be nice to have a place of our own. A little privacy, room for a nursery, a place with a view where Sophia can wake up to the sight of sunshine streaming in through her window. I'm not saying it has to happen. Just…something to think about."

"Already picked a place out, didn't ya?" Raph asked with a smirk.

She gave him a disgruntled look, then sighed and nodded. "Raph, it's the coolest place. Right between here and the hospital. The apartments are spacious, reasonably priced. The one they have available is on the top floor right in the corner so we'd only have two neighbors. You could have open access to the roof at night. And the living room has huge floor to ceiling windows-."

"Yeah, cuz that's what we need. Giant windows so everyone can see a mutant turtle movin' around."

Alex rolled her eyes. "We'd get drapes, hun. Just…think about it, okay?"

He already was. Just like Alex, he loved the lair. It was the only home he'd ever known. But she had a point. They were married now with a baby on the way. It would be nice to have the privacy, to not have to worry that his brothers and father knew exactly what they were up to behind their closed bedroom door. It would be a drastic change. "I'll think about it," he agreed, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of honey colored hair behind her ear.

"That's all I ask." Leaning down, Alex brushed her lips over his. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer and she laughed, fighting back half-heartedly. "Uh-uh. None of that. I've got to go check on your brother."

Raph released her with a sigh, grinning and giving her backside a quick squeeze before letting her slide off his lap. "Fine…go."

She shot him a grin over her shoulder as she exited the room and went to search for Mikey. Unlike his hothead brother, Michelangelo didn't have a motorcycle to disappear on when he was angry. He hardly spent much time upset so finding him was always easy. If he wasn't in the living room, he was in his bedroom. Peaking around the corner of the hallway she saw that the living room was vacant and backtracked to the far end of the hallway where Leonardo and Michelangelo's rooms were.

She paused at the door on the right and knocked once softly before pushing the door open. Michelangelo was sitting on his bed, the pencil he was holding sketching its way over a thick pad of paper resting on his knees. Klunk lay sprawled at the foot of the bed. He lifted his head and gave her the kind of disdainful look only a cat can give before closing his eyes and stretching out to take up even more of the bed than necessary.

"Hey, Mikey," she called softly, shuffling in and shutting the door behind her.

He spared her a brief glance, his pencil going still. Then it was moving again and his eyes were trained on what he was doing. It wasn't much of an invitation but she knew Michelangelo well enough to know that if he wanted her out, he would tell her so.

She went to the bed and sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and looking over his work. Three panels took up the top portion of the sketch paper. Villains and Super Hero's faced off over the ruins of a once prosperous city, glaring at one another. She recognized the characters as the many he had been developing over the past few months, ambitiously preparing a comic book he had high hopes of getting published once he was through. There was a new addition to the group now – a young, beautiful Hispanic woman standing beside Mikey's main character, The Turtle Titan. She was holding tight to him but there was a look of determined rebelliousness written clearly on her face. Alex didn't have to ask Michelangelo who the new addition was. She knew it was Nadia.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sliding her arm through his.

With a heartfelt sigh, Michelangelo stopped drawing and set the pad of paper aside. He rested his head against hers. "You did the right thing. You kept our family safe."

"I know. I just wish it wouldn't have come at such a high cost."

"I doubt anything could have happened between her and me anyway. She was out of it. Like you said, she thought she had just made us up. Probably better that way." He hated to say the words because they went completely against how he felt. There was an unjustness in the entire situation. Maybe he had just been lonely. For the past year and a half he'd watched Alex and Raphael interact – he'd seen the passion, the love. He'd wanted it so badly for himself. When Nadia had looked up at him, her dark eyes so full of trust and acceptance, he'd dared to hope.

"I just thought-." He uttered a short, humorless laugh and shook his head at his own romantic notions. "I just hoped that it was my turn. I know I didn't know her for very long but I thought I'd gotten the chance to have what you and Raph have. The looks and the way she didn't care that I was a mutant…and the rambling in Spanish…man, that drove me totally nuts."

Alex smiled sadly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze and snuggling closer. "I noticed."

"Maybe some day, huh?"

"Some day," she agreed, intentionally leaving out the maybe.