THE ALCOHOL STUNG. Miwa winced as Donnie wiped away the excess blood from her shoulders. They made it to the lair. Leo and Raph hadn't killed each other in the process either, which was a good thing. What wasn't a good thing was Renet's reaction. She zoomed around the lair at high speeds, reliving old memories. She cried happily when she saw Casey and April. They were younger in this world, just as everyone else seemed to be. Mikey told Renet that he was the youngest and only eighteen, which meant his brothers couldn't be much older than him.

While Renet was inspecting every crevice of the lair, Miwa was painfully removing her Shredder armor. She got the gauntlets off easily and tossed them on the ground distastefully.

Donnie gave her a questioning look, but Miwa didn't feel like explaining. She felt like she was going to pass out. The straps to her chest plate were harder. The gaping cut stretched every time she moved her arms.

"Why did you let them come here?" Casey was saying, one hockey stick gripped in between his hands. Miwa didn't even have the energy to psych him out and disarm him.

"Maybe Leo should explain," Raph glared at his older brother, his voice pinched and irritated. Leo rubbed his eyes through his mask. Above them, Mikey was excitedly listening to each detail of Renet's stories with rapt attention.

Splinter carried hot tea from the kitchen area. He set a tray with enough mugs for everyone on a small crate near Miwa. He was watching her curiously and focused now on the silk she had folded neatly on the couch. She'd breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that no blood had damaged the fragile material. "There is no need to explain. We can trust Miwa and Renet."

Raph gaped. "But, Sensei—"

"No 'buts,' my son," He began to sip from his cup. "Miwa, once Donnie bandages your wounds, we would appreciate a full explanation."

"Of course, Master Splinter."

"Master?" All three brothers and their two human friends wondered the same thing at once, not missing her respectful term. Miwa ignored them and untied her thigh and shin armor, tossing it in the pile. She hoped Renet would be kind enough to return to her world and bring back Miwa's weapons.

Donnie rifled through his medical kit, waiting impatiently for Miwa to remove all of her dark armor. She still struggled with the chest plate. With a sigh, he stood and took hold of the ties. "Here, allow me." He didn't give her an option, knowing she would have refused. He'd calculated the probability that she would ask for help and found the solution was negative. It was becoming apparent that Miwa was going to be stubborn with Donnie. Even with his three thick fingers, Donnie was able to untie the straps and lift the lightweight metal over her head.

Miwa removed her tunic and put the ruined material on the floor.

Seeing her uncomfortable posture, Splinter insisted, "We will give you some privacy." He corralled the others into the dojo and commanded Leo to shut the paper thin doors. She and Donnie were left alone.

"I, uh, need to be able to clean the cut." Donnie stuttered, knowing she'd have to remove her tight undershirt to do so. Miwa nodded, heart beating rapidly, and pulled off her gloves. As each part of her Shredder disguise was eliminated, the more naked she felt. Donnie noted a few minor cuts from Oroku Saki's tekko-kagi, but they'd all stopped bleeding by now and were glancing blows.

Miwa took hold of the edge of her shirt and lifted her arms. She gasped and stumbled. Karai's cut opened again, releasing a new wave of blood and pain. Miwa would be damned if she fainted, but she felt herself falling anyway.

Donnie grabbed her, swooped her up in his arms, and carried her to the couch. "Just hang tight. I'll cut your shirt off."

It was drenched in blood anyway, but Miwa swallowed. The turtle found what he was looking for in his kit. Donnie approached her slowly with a pair of gleaming scissors. He started at her waist and snipped, snipped all the way up to her throat. She was vaguely aware that her chest was heaving. Donnie focused on his task, tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. Miwa wasn't surprised by his gentleness. He was always gentle with her.

He helped her slide her arms out of the sleeves and threw the torn black shirt in the trash. Miwa lay on her stomach on the couch so he would have better access.

"This might sting a little," Donnie said as he applied antiseptic solution. It burned. She buried her head in her arms, trying to remind herself that she'd had far worse pains. "So, is purple your favorite color?"

Miwa asked, "What?"

"Well, you have that purple sash… so I was just wondering…"

"Why would you ask that?"

Donnie smiled reassuringly at her. He was trying not to be put off by her attitude. He dealt with Raph every day and he was much angrier… and extremely moody. "I'm trying to distract you. So, is it?"

"I don't know. I don't ever think about that kind of stuff."

"Are you going to ask me if purple is my favorite color?"

Miwa shook her head in confusion. He was patching her up and she was being as rude as possible, yet he still seemed cheerful. Miwa knew Donnie was stubborn and didn't give in easily. "I know it's green. I don't have to ask."

He pulled away, staring at her pale, creamy skin. She wasn't unblemished; in fact, she had several scars on her back and arms, but remained wildly beautiful. Miwa's dark eyes were stormy and her hair was crazy. She possessed realistic beauty… the kind that was imperfect, but still captivating. For the first time, Donnie understood that she knew them. He doubted her knowledge of the Hamatos was limited to only encompassed their favorite colors. When she stared at him, she saw Donnie as he truly was. Not just a nerd, but also a compassionate, noble turtle. He was more in awe of her understanding than of her kunoichi skills.

"Sorry," He muttered and continued bandaging her. At some cosmic level, Donnie thought he knew her as well. Maybe his other life was reaching out to him and trying to make him comprehend just as deeply as she did. "Uh… do you like pizza?"

In that moment, Miwa relaxed. Her eyes softened and she looked like a whole different woman. She was younger, more carefree. Even sarcastic or opportunistic. Donnie watched her smooth lips curve into a slight smile. "Yeah. But no anchovies."

Donnie periodically asked her questions while he worked: "How tall are you?" "What's your favorite type of tea?" "Have you read Harper Lee's new book?" "Do you know anything about rewiring a Shellraiser?" When he finished, Donnie told her to stay put and he would go find her another shirt from Mikey's stash of human clothing. Miwa laughed at that and washed up in the bathroom. She didn't look at herself in the mirror. She wasn't fond of her serious, angry face. She rinsed herself of blood and slicked back her hair so it wouldn't fall in her eyes. She was thankful that Donnie hadn't asked her anything about his counterpart in her native world. Being sliced up by Karai would have felt like nothing in comparison to that agony.

"This is all I could find." Donnie held up a large men's t-shirt, a tank top, and sweatshirt.

Miwa decided the t-shirt would be the most practical decision and plucked it from his fingers. "Thanks, Donnie." He grinned, liking the way her mouth formed his name and how she pronounced it with a slight accent.

She didn't even struggle when he helped slide it over her head. He pulled it down, knuckles brushing her sides. Donnie heard a small sound escape her lips. She flushed and backed away, banging her hip against the sink.

"I'm so sorry," Donnie rushed, "I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay." Miwa gasped. He thought she was mad he'd touched her so intimately. Miwa caressed his arm. "It was my fault. I should have…" Her words trailed off when she looked up and met his gaze. Donnie unconsciously moved closer, hands gripping her waist. The top of her head barely met his chin, Donnie realized. She was so soft and her fingers were smooth against his textured skin. She brushed them across his hard plastron. Her eyelashes were thick and black.

She didn't protest when he closed the distance between them, overcome by a baser instinct, and pushed her against the stone sink. He trailed one hand through her silky hair and traced the scar on her neck. Miwa's breathing became heavier and her eyes fluttered closed. She licked her lips. Donnie watched her reactions and leaned down, wondering if he was really going to do this…

"Yo—is she fixed yet, D?" Mikey's loud, obnoxious voice protruded the fog that had settled on the two. Donnie jerked out of his stupor and parked himself on the other side of the bathroom. He was poised to apologize again, but Miwa shook her head. He blinked, but the tears in her eyes were gone. He must have imagined it.

"I think I'm good," Miwa called and opened the door. She left him alone to collect himself.

Donnie met his purple-masked gawk in the mirror. He beamed at himself. "I almost kissed a girl," He told his reflection. He was so ecstatic that he ran from the bathroom and jumped off the balcony to the living area.

The others were gathered on the couch and floor, anxiously waiting for the two women's explanations. Miwa sat cross-legged next to April while Renet stood. It looked like she was going to be doing most of the story-telling, Donnie decided. He sat on the ground and reached for a cup of tea. It was lukewarm now, but still tasted good, like lemon and hibiscus. He studied Miwa's profile, memorizing every detail: the curve of her cheek, her straight hair, graceful, but deadly hands…

Renet began, "Okay, so, I met you four turtles when I was fifteen and you were all about sixteen. Miwa was still part of the Foot Clan at the time and worked for Shredder. You see, I'd stolen Lord Simultaneous's time scepter and ran away with it. You guys were playing with water balloons and a hose on a roof top when I popped up out of nowhere…"