Waking up

A muffled noise began to intrude on Morgan's consciousness. An irritating, consistent high-pitched beep. She tried to identify it and her fuzzy thoughts compared it to all kinds of things, some logical, others not so much: the steady pulse of her alarm clock; a countdown timer on a bomb; the alert sound from the microwave; first notes of a symphony; the open door of an SUV; a crosswalk sign near her apartment; or perhaps one of Donatello's gadgets.

Donatello. There was something she wanted to tell him before it was too late. The urgency of the thought roused her a little more.

Too late for what?

Voices tumbled over each other in her mind.

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me? She's barely breathing. Starting CPR."

"Pulse is thready. Looks like a knife wound to the left shoulder and another to the cheek. Trauma to the throat. Bruising down the right side seems to be several days old."

These were voices she didn't know and she couldn't concentrate enough to check their auras. Why wouldn't everyone shut up and let her think? She needed to think. There was something wrong, something she had to warn them about. Hands lifted her to a gurney.

Wait.

She wasn't supposed to go anywhere with people she didn't know. She tried to struggle but her muscles wouldn't respond. What happened to her friends? Where was Raphael?

"Holy shit! There's a van here full of blood! If it's hers we've got to move fast!"

"Somebody call CSU."

" , we've got immediate incoming with heavy blood loss..."

This wasn't it. This one was too recent. Farther back. Think Morgan, think!

Raphael's panicked voice in the next memory distracted her from the thought she was trying to chase down. Her guardian didn't panic. He was strong and faced things head on. Something serious must be wrong.

"Don't ya dare. Don't ya dare give up! Keep fightin' Angel! Ya have to keep fightin'..."

"Move her out there. Casey! Call an ambulance! I don't have the resources to save her. Raph, help me with CPR. Give two breaths every time I stop compressions!"

More beeping. It was starting to give her a headache. Or did she already have one? The blood pounding through her veins made the pain ten times worse. Her shoulder decided to join in, adding its own special flavor of agony, and her neck! Her throat was so sore, that thug had hands like a wrestler.

Still, she struggled to remember. What was it? Something important... Her thoughts chased each other in circles until voices interrupted again.

"She's lost too much blood. Shock is setting in."

"She ain't breathin' Don! Do something!"

"Beep... Beep... Beep..."

She was ready to scream. Why didn't it stop? Didn't anyone else hear? Why was it so loud?

She struggled to move, to voice the pain. To get someone to end the repetitive sound.

The moment she stopped searching, the memory surfaced. Two thugs leaning over her in the van, mashing first aid supplies haphazardly against her shoulder. A sharp pain, distinct from the others pinched the side of her neck.

"There. If she slips away again, we can follow her anywhere."

Pure panic seized her. She was alone, in the hands of the enemy. Trapped, with no way to get free. Surrounded by strangers. And now they had a way to track her. A scream she couldn't release battered the inside of her skull, mixing with the horrible high pitched whine into a sound out of her nightmares.

A pulse of awareness ripped from her as panic pushed her to search for signs of life nearby.

Across the room, a deep voice muffled a cry of pain.

The beeping ended abruptly and a large, two fingered hand lifted her own from the blankets. A familiar scent calmed her fear.

He was here.

Raphael slumped in the corner of the angel's hospital room with his head in his hands. He wasn't supposed to be here. The FBI stood outside the door 24/7 with orders to check everyone coming in against a list, even the doctors and nurses. And they stuck their heads in a couple of times an hour, but there was no way he was gonna let her lay in here alone the rest of the time.

Besides, if he could get in so easily there was nothing stopping a Foot ninja from waltzing in either. It wasn't like hospitals were meant to be Fort Knox.

Two days he'd waited by her side, dodging the staff and the guards, but she hadn't moved even the slightest bit. If it hadn't been for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the gentle rise and fall of her chest he would have gone insane.

For a while, he had.

They'd left her, his angel. Bleeding on the pavement as the paramedics zoomed in. In that instant he couldn't care less about discovery, but Leonardo struck him and the brothers threw him bodily into the van. It took all three of them to hold him down as Casey sped out of the garage. Enraged, he lashed out at those around him, unheeding of his brother's cries.

"What the HELL, Leo?" Raphael screamed. "That's my girl you left back there! Casey, turn this bucket around, NOW!"

"Casey, keep going," Leo ordered before throwing himself back on his struggling brother. "We had no choice, we had to leave her. For her own good."

"Did we, Fearless?" Raphael hissed, and Leo flinched from the soft yet deadly tone of his brother. "I think this is you covering your tail! You're the one who let her out of the safety of the lair in the daytime!"

"That's not fair, Raph," Michelangelo protested. "We all agreed to the plan."

"Plan? What kind of plan was it to follow her through midtown traffic?" Raph said, "Get OFFA me! I'm going back even if you ain't!"

"Raph they won't treat her if we're hovering over her," Donnie yelled over him. "It'll cost her precious seconds she doesn't have!"

Don's certainty of her impending doom hit him like a crushing blow and abruptly he collapsed back against the wall. All the fight drained out of him and his brothers cautiously let him go.

A horrible groaning sob welled up from somewhere deep in his stomach.

Morgan was dying. Bleeding to death in a dirty underground parking lot because he wasn't fast enough to save her from some thug in an alley. And he couldn't even be there for her. Grief overwhelmed him and he choked on the emotion. His heart was breaking into a million pieces and all his family could do was sit there and watch.

How had this happened?

How, no, WHY had he even LET this petite human girl into his life; his heart? This hurt too damned much.

He was enraged, in agony, and useless with sorrow. But the truth was, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. She had swept into his life with no warning, and became the most important thing in his world, and now she was leaving him as abruptly as she had come.

He knew better. This was why he never let anyone close. In anguish, he locked his arms around his knees, refusing to meet the eyes of his brothers as sobs he couldn't control wracked his form.

Donatello knelt in front of him, pulling Raph's shaking shoulders into a fierce embrace. As usual, his compassionate brother saw right through him.

"Don't torment yourself for how you feel about her," Donnie murmured. "Love is a gift. One we never thought we'd see. And she loves you too."

Raphael blinked away the tears his memory conjured and squinted across the room to the hospital bed where his angel lay. It was 2 AM and Don would be dropping by any minute to try to get him to eat again. He sighed and crept to the window.

That's when he felt it. The pulse swept over him and agony enveloped every synapse of his mind. He stifled a harsh cry as best he could and spun toward the bed. In two quick strides, he reached the machinery and turned the volume knob down.

Instantly the pain in his head dulled and he snatched up her hand from the bed.

"You're awake in there, ain't ya angel," Raphael whispered. Hope exploded in his soul. His hand, holding hers ever so gently, trembled. A tiny squeeze answered him.

Donatello sighed as he rapidly surveyed the back side of the hospital and determined there was no immediate danger of being spotted. He shifted his duffle bag until it was balanced correctly over his shell and crept from the shadows of the fence to the wall of the building. With one last covert glance around he began to climb.

Morgan was on the ninth floor of a freestanding hospital at the edge of the city and luckily her window didn't face any sort of occupied dwelling. But it also meant there wasn't another building close enough to grant him access on either side, so he was forced to ascend the fascia to check in.

He climbed slowly, not truly ready to face the lost expression on his brother's face again. Raphael was a fierce fighter, but this constant battle with heartache was something Donnie didn't want to see.

Since Raph refused to leave her bedside, Don brought his meals and used the opportunity to examine her charts. Like him, the doctors were confused by Morgan's blood. It didn't match any known type and made giving her a transfusion risky. They went with O negative, the supposed 'universally' accepted type, but it wasn't taking.

She wasn't waking up and she should have by now.

Her body was doing something weird with the transfusion, trying to incorporate it by converting it into something else, but failing. If he didn't know better, he would have said it needed mutation, but there was no trace, or history, of mutagen in her body.

Still, he'd seen something like it before. In fact, now he considered, her blood reminded him of theirs, but more like the negative inverse. He had a sudden desire to see how the two would react if combined together. When he got home, he decided he'd run some tests.

Don reached Morgan's window and was surprised to find it still closed. Raph usually cracked it by now. He peered in to see his brother simply standing by the side of her bed, staring at her, lost in contemplation of her face. He cringed at the sight.

Raphael never touched her, not in all the times Don visited anyway. Somehow, his hot-headed brother had decided he was completely at fault in the matter of her injury and he refused to 'contaminate' her further until she was awake to give permission.

With a sad sigh, Don tapped gently on the glass.

Raph's head snapped around and their gazes locked for a split second before Don's eyes fell to his brother's hand where it was gripped lightly in hers. His eyes widened and he gestured for Raph to hurry up and open the window.

Morgan was awake.

Charles Hargrove was not a coward. Ruthless, yes. Savage even at times, but fear was an unknown emotion, until tonight.

Saki had summoned him.

Two days ago he felt confident about this meeting because, for one instant, Morgan had been in his possession. Those incompetent Dragons even made it into the subfloors of his building with her before it all went south.

If Hun hadn't stepped in to back his lieutenant, Charlie would have had the man flogged until he'd gotten the truth. The video surveillance had been tampered with, so there was no way of knowing what the men actually encountered, but if Hun and his unfortunate underling were to be believed, some urban legend from the streets had shown up to rescue the girl.

Alligators in the sewers he had heard of, but turtles? Humanoid turtles who could speak and fight? It was a stretch for Charlie's literal mind, but Hun assured him Saki was familiar with said phenomena. Which didn't exactly bode well for Charlie. To have lost his greatest prize to Saki's worst enemy didn't sound like a good thing to admit.

But they hadn't taken the girl far. In fact, they left her dying on the pavement. Maybe they didn't think she was worth saving after all.

Charlie strode with grace through the multiple receiving rooms until he reached the wide double doors at the back of the property, where he paused to take a deep breath. At least he knew where the girl was; under FBI protection at a hospital downtown. Given a little more time, Charlie was certain he could retrieve her. Perhaps that was the best way to spin it. He fixed a cold, nonchalant expression on his face and shoved his way through the doors.

Saki was big on ritual formality, so Charlie strode exactly 75 paces into the vast hall and stopped to bow deeply toward the front of the room. He kept his eyes focused on the floor and waited for Saki to speak.

"Rise."

The voice was guttural and deep, filled with layers of inflection that would make most practiced politicians blanch; trying to devise their meaning. But Charlie was no ordinary politician. Saki was shrouded in shadow, but Charlie could make out his armored form seated on a dais. The man had a flair for the dramatic, but it did not make him any less dangerous. He stood and fixed his gaze to the left of the man, to a spot over his shoulder.

"You honor me with your personal invitation, Master Shredder," Charlie intoned respectfully.

"Yet you boldly enter my presence without a hint of your promised goods," Shredder rumbled menacingly.

Charlie inclined his head again.

"It is true. I do not currently possess your... trainee. But I do know where she is and it will not take long to recover her."

The Shredder fixed him with a red stare from beneath the sharp lines of his helmet and tilted his head.

"Do you think me a fool, Mr. Hargrove?"

Charlie started and glanced quickly at Saki's face before fixing his gaze on the floor and swallowing hard.

"No, sir."

"This prize. Is she everything you have led me to believe?"

Charlie's eyes lit from within as he remembered endless nights with Morgan at his side, some willing; most not.

"She is more than I ever imagined she would be," Charlie whispered with lust in his eyes.

"Then how could you afford to lose her?" Shredder demanded, his fist connecting with the arm of the chair. Charlie jumped and cringed back ever so slightly before forcing himself to stand tall again.

"For six years you have promised me perfection. And yet, it seems you cannot deliver." The Shredder's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it is because you do not wish to release her?"

"Master, I could not present her to you half trained. It was an unfortunate circumstance which led to her... misappropriation, but she is trackable now, I assure you," Charlie said smoothly, but sweat beaded on his brow.

The Shredder raised a hand and the double doors opened behind Charlie. A young woman dressed entirely in black flowed forward with deadly grace to stand beside him.

"Karai," Shredder greeted with a nod.

"Master," Karai said with a short bow, "The Dragon's admit to their role in losing the girl, but what this one fails to confide," her eyes flicked to Charlie at her side, "was the presence of our nemesis."

Shredder's eyes blazed.

"You lost my prize to the hands of the Hamato clan?" he demanded.

"The Hamato clan?" Charlie repeated blankly.

"Those mutated freaks of nature! Those Turtles!"

Charlie shook his head, not daring to fully refute the existence of something he strongly suspected the Shredder's underlings had invented as a scapegoat, but not wanting to confirm it either.

"I have not seen such creatures, Master. There was a battle. Surveillance was damaged so I cannot verify the assailants, but the girl was left behind. She is in the hospital under guard by the FBI. The place is full of security holes and she will be easily extracted at such a time as we have set up a clinic to rehabilitate her. That is the extent of my knowledge."

"You are ignorant as well as foolish," Karai said with a malicious grin. "Father, the Turtle's left her to the care of humans because she was injured and near death. She will be many months in recovery if she survives at all."

Charlie started at the word 'father', but it was his turn to smile.

"Ah, it is you who are ignorant my dear," Charlie smirked. He pulled a syringe out of his coat which held a swirling silver serum. "Morgan is unique. Her blood tested odd the first time she went through my personal clinic and, over the years, my scientists derived this serum from the negative spaces in her DNA sequence.

Once injected, she will heal of all injuries within a week." He chuckled dangerously. "It is quite a painful process, so you will want to prepare a soundproof chamber. Her screaming, while sweet in the beginning, becomes tiresome after a while."

Karai, standing beside him, had gone rigid and blanched slightly at his description, but Saki leaned forward on his throne. His eyes gleamed with greed and desire.

"Tell me more about this serum."

4 AM.

Leonardo turned away from his vigil on the edge of the skyscraper across the vacant lot from the hospital. Don had texted two hours ago. Morgan was awake, though not really conscious. Leo had not stopped thanking whatever beings might be listening that the girl had not succumbed to her injuries and died.

Raphael would not have survived. At least, not as the same person they knew and loved.

Michelangelo, sitting a few feet away, yawned.

"Leo, you gotta get some sleep, bro."

Leo grimaced and turned back at the hospital window, his brow furrowed in concern. "I know, but I want to make sure I'm up to hear Don's full report. He'll be back soon."

"Dude, let it go."

Leo stared hard at his youngest brother, trying to decide what he was referring too.

"Morgan needed a human doctor. Just because she isn't getting better right away doesn't mean you made the wrong decision. You did what you had to do, dragging Raph away from her," Mikey said, "You gotta let up on yourself."

Leo rubbed the back of his head with one hand and flushed a little. "That obvious, huh?'

Mikey jumped up and gave him a friendly pat on the shell. "Only to those of us who've known you forever, dude." He grinned. "You get this funny wrinkle over your bandana when you feel guilty."

"He's right."

The quiet female voice startled them and the brothers swung around as one, drawing their weapons. A black clad Karai, dropped silently from the top of a nearby water tower to the roof and waved off their attack stance.

"I don't know what you're feeling guilty about now, but that little crease is a dead giveaway," she said.

"What do you want, Karai?" Leo said sharply. "I don't have time to discuss my habits with you tonight."

She shrugged and a small smile flitted across her face.

"I have some information I might feel like passing on, if you were to ask nicely," she said.

"What makes you think we want it?" Mikey demanded, not dropping his guard in the slightest.

"It pertains to your brother's new pet and her repatriation," she said with a malicious grin. "She is Foot property, after all."

"Karai," Leo snorted in disgust. "I know you don't believe in people as property, no matter your affiliations." He sheathed his swords and regarded her warily, "So what is it you know?"

"That's not a very nice way of asking, Leo," she pouted. "I'm sure you can find a better one."

She batted her eyelashes at him and flowed a few steps closer. His eyes narrowed and in a move too fast to follow, Leonardo had her arm twisted up behind her back. He pulled her close to his chest and a small knife appeared at her throat. He smiled.

"Karai," he breathed, "Spill."

She laughed lightly as he released her with a gentle shove. She took great pleasure in their little games.

"Charles Hargrove plans to establish an isolated clinic under one of the Foot's buildings. He has a serum that will supposedly heal the girl in under a week so he can return her in a fully functional state. It's supposed to interact with her blood in some way, but it sounds like pure torture."

She shuddered. It took a lot to turn her stomach, but the way the man's eyes gleamed as he described what the serum would do to the girl had done it. It was all she could do not to slice him open right there.

"They're going to snatch her as soon as it's up and running." She shrugged and backed to the edge of the building. "Thought you'd want to know."

"Why?" Mikey asked.

She stared at him blankly. "Raph has a thing for her, doesn't he?" she asked, frowning. "That Dragon said he did."

"No!" Mikey said, frustrated. "Why are you telling us this? Isn't Morgan like supposed to be the Shredder's perfect woman or something? Why would you mess with that?"

Her frown deepened. "Many reasons. If she's so perfect, I'll be fighting her for influence. Then there's the possible competition of more heirs. Take your pick. Besides, Charlie is a real prick, and I want to see him go down."

She flashed them a smile and disappeared from view over the side.

Leo and Mikey stared at each other and Leo ran a frustrated palm over his face. Extraction plans would have to be escalated, but how were they supposed to get a mortally injured woman through the sewers to the safety of the lair?

"It's not fair," Mikey said fiercely. "Morgan is the sweetest, nicest girl. She deserves an awesome guy. And Raph deserves her. How did things get so twisted? How does someone so special get affiliated with the Foot?"

"She had no choice, Mikey. Charlie took it away from her."

Leonardo shook his head, more determined than ever to defend Morgan. There was no question in his mind anymore. Raphael and she were meant to be together, and though she was embroiled in this twisted mess they would extract her.

It might take everything they had to protect her, but his sister was coming home.