A/N: No time for a long note this morning, I'm working all this week, so this is an on-the-fly posting.

This is the chap many of you have been waiting for. Poor Bev, she has no idea what she's getting herself into. heh


Chapter 4 -And Found-
~~~

Beverly Koban pulled into her brother's yard and slipped the truck into park. She hopped down, and walked toward the cabin, mindful of the dog sleeping under the porch.

"Hey, Rufus," she called. The huge brown dog lifted his head and barked a greeting before lying back down. "Jack? Jack, are you here?" Her voice was soft, but not timid. She stepped up on the porch and tried the door, finding it locked. She sighed.

Leave it to Jack to be out. He knew I was coming with his supplies today. And I really must speak with him about the property tax. Maybe he's just avoiding me. Guess I'd better check the barn.

Stepping off the porch, she crossed the yard. The barn door was latched, but Beverly knew another way in. She walked around the building, finding the loose board and slipped through. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.

I remember hiding in here as a child, she thought. The hayloft made a great fort from which to defend my own personal castle…

"Jack, I've brought the supplies you wanted. Jack, are you here? I need to talk to you." She came up to the horse's stall, glancing over the door, but it was empty.

"Blast."

Well, if he took the horse, he really isn't here. Guess I'll have to visit him another day, she thought.

She turned to go, when a slight movement in the next stall caught her attention. She took two steps and peered into the dim shadows. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

Kneeling, bound to the stall, was the strangest and most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. His skin was a dull olive color, and his back was covered with what looked like a giant turtle shell. When he looked up, her heart caught in her throat. A belt had been wrapped under his jaw, crossed over the top of his mouth, and buckled behind his head, creating a makeshift muzzle. He peered up at her through the dim light, his intelligent eyes clouded with fear and despair. Beverly shivered.

Oh, Jack, what have you done?

After a moment's hesitation, she knelt beside the creature. She reached up, slowly, cautiously, and touched his face. He winced, pulling back as well as he was able. The ropes kept him from going far. She flinched at the movement, withdrawing her hand. Crossing her arms over her stomach, her shoulders hunching slightly, she sank down on a hay bale and stared at him, wide-eyed. He was exhausted. She could see it in the way he slumped forward, panting, allowing the ropes bound too tightly around his wrists to bear his weight.

I wonder how long he's been here? I haven't been to Jack's place in nearly a month, but surely he hasn't had this creature prisoner for that long.

She saw grooves worn deeply into the wood, where he'd been pulling at the ropes, desperation loaning him the strength to crease the solid oak. She shivered.

He's not going anywhere, she told herself.

Not with his arms stretched out to his sides, bound to sturdy wooden beams on either side of the stall, keeping him in a kneeling position. His ankles were bound as well, trapped under him, pinned beneath that magnificent shell.

His olive-green skin, under her fingers, had been cool… too cool, almost cold, though the old barn wasn't near freezing. She slid off the hay bale and knelt beside him again, gathering courage from his obvious helplessness. He twitched, seeing her move and the ropes creaked with his efforts to escape, his eyes going wide with fear.

"What are you?" she whispered. "You're no animal. Your eyes are so…" She trailed off, watching him. "I wonder if I took that thing off, if you could speak."

She heard the hiss of his sharply indrawn breath as her fingers brushed the belt's buckle. He flinched away from her touch, twisting his head to the side to evade her. She felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly.

As if I could, she thought. If you were loose, I'd never get near you. The muscles in your arms alone…How on earth did Jack get hold of you?

He went still again and turned his head toward her, not quite meeting her gaze. He held himself tense, waiting. Cautiously, she slid the strap out of the buckle, tugging at it until it fell away. He held himself absolutely still, quivering with tension and staring at a spot somewhere beyond her on the floor.

"There… is that better?" she whispered, lifting the strap away from his face. She knelt beside him. He still refused to look at her. She stayed there, watching him, for a long time. She reached up, laying her hand on his bicep, and traced her fingertips over his skin, fascinated by the texture. Finding a series of small imperfections in the smooth skin, lower on inside of the forearm, she frowned, exploring gently with her fingers.

He shivered. "Don't." The word was barely a whisper.

She froze, staring. "You can speak. You're no animal. I knew it." Slowly, painfully, he turned his head. The dark eyes came up to meet hers. She caught her breath. In an instant, she was on her feet, backing away. She half-expected him to attack her, though he was still bound, helpless. He watched her for a moment before turning away again, his gaze returning to some spot behind her. He looked… resigned to his fate.

That look made up her mind. Reaching for a small sheath at her belt, she drew her small, but very sharp, knife. She approached him cautiously. His eyes snapped up, focusing on the blade in her hand, and going wide.

"No!" There was such anguish in his voice that she froze, staring. "Not again… leave me alone!"

The creature moaned, twisting and straining to avoid her touch. His breathing was quick and shallow, and hitched when she laid her hand on his arm. The tiniest of moans sounded in the back of his throat, and she felt a faint trembling under her fingertips. The muscles in his arms rippled as he squirmed, struggling against the ropes.

"Leave me alone…" The hoarse plea was quiet, despairing.

What on earth did Jack do to him?

She drew a deep breath. "If you promise not to attack me," she said softly, "I'll get you out of this."

Wide brown eyes came up, meeting hers, confusion and terror showing clearly. She tried a reassuring smile.

"You must promise," she said. She saw the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed. He looked at her for a long time. She met his gaze steadily.

Slowly, as if movement were painful, he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, the woman took his hand in her own. He flinched at the contact and his panicked struggles against the ropes renewed. She tightened her grip on his hand, trying to pin his arm so she could cut the rope. A whimper escaped him, half strangled, as if he were trying to hold it back.

"Hold still," she hissed. "The knife is sharp. I don't want to cut you."

He froze again, his chest heaving as he drew deep, shuddering breaths. Feeling his surrender, Beverly laid the blade against the rope, letting him see what she was doing. This time he held almost painfully still, only slight tremors making his fingers twitch. Slowly, carefully, Beverly sliced through the rope, strand by strand. Soon, the bond fell away. His arm fell heavily to his side, and he grunted in pain.

She moved to his other side and repeated the process. Before he could move, she took hold of his shell and hauled him up, backward off his knees. He tried to jerk away, startled, but he was too weak to evade her grasp.

"Take it easy," she soothed. She could feel him shivering. His skin still felt too cold. She laid him down in the stack of loose hay and knelt to slice the ropes binding his feet. This time he was still, letting her cut the ropes without protest. His brown eyes followed her every movement as she re-sheathed her knife. She stood up and fetched the only blanket she could find in the barn and pulled it over him. It smelled warmly of the horse it had covered not long ago. He glanced at her in surprise.

"You're cold," she said simply. "You need to warm up."

"Th… thank you," he managed.

Beverly smiled. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Donatello."

"Donatello," she said, keeping her voice soft. "Wait here. I've got to get the supplies I brought for Jack out of the truck. He knew I was coming. He'll be suspicious if he sees my tire tracks and the stuff isn't here. As soon as I do that we'll get you out of here, ok?"

Donatello nodded, still watching her with those unfathomable brown eyes. She gave him a smile before heading out to take the bags of groceries she'd brought her brother. Coffee, sugar, fresh fruit, all the things Jack couldn't grow for himself out here and refused to go into town after.

Whatever he is, he's hurt. He needs medical attention. I can't leave him here, can't let Jack...

She stacked the groceries on the porch and headed back to the barn. Donatello hadn't moved. He was lying in the hay, his eyes closed. She regarded him for a moment.

The poor thing. I wonder where he came from, and how he had the incredible bad luck to run into Jack.

She went to him cautiously and knelt down. "Do you think you can walk now?" She spoke softly, but his eyes snapped open and he flinched away. She shifted, rocking back on her heels, giving him a bit of space.

"I… don't know," he rasped. He swallowed again, clearing his throat. "I'm afraid the circulation was cut off in my legs from the way I was… sitting."

Beverly's eyes widened, hearing the way he talked, the vocabulary and inflection of his voice making it clear he was intelligent.

He's not an animal at all, despite his appearance.

He tried to sit up.

"Let me help you," said Beverly.

She reached out to grasp his arm and he held up his hands in defense, pushing her away as if he expected her to attack him. He scrambled to his feet, leaning heavily on the side of the stall. His breath come in short, panting gasps that hissed through his teeth. Beverly rushed forward, catching him as he fell forward to his knees. He flinched violently at her touch, but she didn't let go.

"What are you doing?" She lowered him gently down, relaxing only when his weight rested on his hands and knees.

"I have to get out of here," he said.

She felt him shiver. Beverly shook her head.

"Do you really think you can get away from here on your own? Donatello, you're obviously hurt. My brother will be back at any moment. You've got to let me help you."

"Jack…" A coughing fit shook him, but he managed to glance up at her. "Jack is your brother?"

I shouldn't have told him that. He'll never trust me now. And who can blame him? But he needs help.

"Yes." She met his gaze steadily. "Will you come with me? I'll take you back to my place. I can hide you from him until you're well enough to fend for yourself."

Holding onto the boards, he managed to get to his feet again. "How… how do I know I can… trust you?" The brown eyes gazed into hers. He was shaking with exertion, leaning heavily on the slats of the stall. Beverly was amazed he could stand. The rope burns on his legs and wound on one ankle looked painful and he was obviously weak.

She shook her head, frustrated. "You don't," she said. "But what other options do you have?"

Donatello watched her. Finally he nodded, seeming to make up his mind. "Ok."

"You can't walk far, can you?" Beverly looked him over critically. "You can barely stand. I'll pull the truck up as close as I can to the barn," she told him. She started toward the door.

"Wait," croaked Donatello. She paused, looking at him over her shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Beverly." She flashed him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Beverly Koban."

She unlatched the barn door from the inside and hurried to move the truck, backing as close as she dared to the barn but mindful not to drive on the grass where the tire tracks would show clearly. Satisfied that she'd be able to get the turtle into the truck, she headed back to the barn.

"Come on," she said, going over to Donatello. He shrank back so sharply he nearly fell backward. She caught him firmly by the arm, pulling it over her own shoulders, and draped her other arm around his shell, supporting him.

"Relax. I'm helping you, remember?" She met his bleak look, and shook her head. "I'm not like my brother. Come on. Lean on me," she instructed.

His hitched breathing and the way he trembled against her told her how frightened he still was. He seemed reluctant to let her help him, half pulling away as he struggled to keep his weight on his own feet.

"Come on, she hissed finally, after he stumbled for the third time. "Don't be afraid to lean on me. I pack deer out of the woods during hunting season. Trust me, I can handle it. I could carry you if I had to. You can't weigh more than two hundred pounds."

"A hundred eighty-six, actually," said Donatello.

She glanced at him, and grinned. "Sorry. A hundred eighty-six, then."

Probably less. You look as though you've lost weight recently.

His eyes darted around the yard as they stepped out into the light. He shivered in the warm sun. Beverly looked at him and gasped, noticing the small cuts along the length of his free arm.

Those look deliberately inflicted, she thought. They're far too clean to have been accidental. No wonder he was so afraid of the knife.

Donatello was trembling violently, his eyes wide. She followed his gaze to the porch where Jack's huge dog was sleeping and shook her head. "Don't worry about Rufus," she said gently. "He won't bother you as long as you're with me."

"I… got loose, a few days ago," he told her. "When he took me out of the barn to…" He trailed off, a blush staining his cheeks. "I almost made it to the woods… Jack sic'd the dog on me. He bit me."

"That would explain your ankle," she said softly. "I figured that couldn't all be rope burn. How bad is it? Is it broken?"

"I… don't know," he said.

"He's trained for hunting wild boar," Beverly explained. "When Rufus bites, he doesn't let go. His bite can break bones. You're not the first person he's bitten. Jack uses him for hunting, but also to protect the house."

She led Donatello over to the rusted red truck and reached past him to open the door. He struggled to get his leg up to the door-sil, but he couldn't quite lift himself up to the seat. Beverly put one hand on his elbow, and the other against his shell, giving him a boost. He glanced at her, looking shocked. She smiled.

"I told you I could lift you," she said.

Donatello gave her a faint half-smile. She watched him relax into the seat, laying his head back as the short walk had worn him out too much to hold it upright any longer.

Beverly closed the door and headed back to the barn. There was one more thing to attend to before she could leave: removing the evidence. She quickly cut the ropes away from the stall slats. She put the horse's blanket back on its hook and brushed the dust over the floor to mask any marks her boots might have left. Satisfied she'd obscured any clue to her presence in the barn, she headed back out to the truck leaving the door unlatched to show the turtle had escaped that way. She tossed the ropes in the back and climbed in on the driver's side.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

Donatello was watching her. He wasn't quite cringing, but his arm was pressed close to his side as if to shield his body and he'd shifted over until the edge of his shell was tight against the door. Beverly glanced at him.

He's still afraid of me. Poor guy. Well, Jack has that effect on people.

"What… what do you want the ropes for?" he asked.

"If Jack sees they're cut, he'll know you had help getting away," she explained, putting the vehicle into gear and pulling out of the driveway.

Is that why you're so nervous? You thought I would tie you up again? She glanced at him.

"Are you ok? You're awfully pale."

"'m fine," whispered Donatello. He relaxed slightly, but Beverly noticed he was still sitting turned slightly toward her, as if he wanted to keep her in his line of sight.

"Don't worry," she said. "You're gonna be ok now." She reached over to pat his knee. He jerked, gasping.

She scowled. "When we get to my place," she said, half to herself, "I'm going to burn those ropes."

She heard the turtle's startled chuckle and her frown melted into a half-smile.

Wow. He's got such beautiful eyes and a nice laugh, too. Whatever he is, he's amazing. Now if I can just keep him safe from my brother.