Author's Note: *cough* This chapter may be rough...had to dig myself back into the flow of writing. On the upside, I've written ahead about half a dozen chapters, to really get myself past that big wall known as writer's block. Feedback would be really appreciated...I might fix this chapter up or tweak it, based on your suggestions. Sorry about that wait, guys!

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Chapter Thirty-Six: Not Quite Right

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Hanza stood with crossed arms, dark eyes glinting in the half light of a failing street lamp. Night had fallen, and it found him in a neighborhood where people carried pepper spray and didn't linger near dark alleyways.

He snorted quietly, and crouched down, studying the hunched form of Harada Jan as she cradled her forehead, her back against the street lamp.

"What shall I tell the Shredder, hmm?" Hanza spoke in their native tongue.

Jan glared through narrowed eyes, then closed them again, wincing. A lump had formed beside her right temple, already dark blue. She had only woken a few minutes back, having been knocked cold by Raphael as he shoved past her earlier that evening.

Hanza snorted again. "Nothing to say? You always have such a mouth..." He reached out, a thumb almost grazing her injury, but then his hand dropped away again. "I suppose I'll tell him that your pet is alive, after all."

Jan didn't reply, obviously fighting dizziness as she forced herself to her feet, a hand trailing the lamp post for stability.

Hanza stood up from his crouch, a grim smile barely touching his lips. "I already have the details. You're lucky the turtle didn't put a sai through your head during his escape. He clearly had the opportunity."

Jan finally responded, her voice low and harsh with anger, mixed with hurt pride. "He moved like an American football player, at the end. Pure brute force – and clumsy." She frowned. "But fast. I don't know how he was still moving..."

"Sai was surprised, too." That was Masuda's first name; the same as the weapon. "But they aren't human." Hanza wouldn't make the same mistake twice, not with this drug.

Jan sneered, and her free hand clenched to a fist by her side. "That Koji was killed by one of them...!"

Hanza bowed his head slightly, and quietly added the second name. "And Yasuko, too." But Yasuko wasn't Harada Koji, first cousin to Harada Jan. Yasuko and Koji had both died ignominious deaths, the Foot being fully aware of how their own masks had been used to tie their hands and feet. Hanza was furious about it, as well. It had been deliberate, calculated...

Now that they knew Donatello was alive, they also knew who to blame for the laboratory explosion and the killings. Once that kaibutsu was back in their hands, Hanza intended to recommend to their master that Jan would make a better keeper, rather than Bradford or Xever. If Hanza could sway the Shredder, Jan would get her opportunity for revenge. And, under Jan's influence, Donatello might finally prove useful to the Shredder, which could extend his life for many years, before the Foot ultimately did away with him. It would be fitting, for the kaibutsu to repay their clan in labor and blood, for the loss of two of their own.

Above retrieving Donatello, however, their first priority was to locate Karai, the Shredder's daughter. That said, after tonight, Hanza felt certain that the Shredder had been right: Donatello and his family had taken her. His master had further confided, privately, that he didn't believe Hamato Yoshi would kill her. Rather, he believed Yoshi's goal might be to coerce or brainwash Karai, which would explain, in Hanza's mind, the lack of a ransom or a dead body, even after several days.

Unfortunately, after tonight the turtles and the rat could also have no doubt that they were being hunted, and would be harder to draw out. There was even a possibility they might flee, as Hamato Yoshi had done many years ago, in leaving Japan. If they left the city, they could well and truly disappear.

But Hanza didn't think they would run. They were invested in some scheme, with Karai as their prisoner. Besides, New York was their home now, and Hanza doubted they were ready to abandon it. Hamato Yoshi and his little clan of kaibutsu had put down roots here.

It was time to dig for those roots.

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Something was really off about Donnie, but April was too stretched thin to concentrate on what.

She sat hunched on the couch in the pit, cradling a hurt elbow that Master Splinter had cleaned and bandaged earlier. Her head throbbed, and her cheek was swollen and dark blue where her face had collided with Raphael's forehead earlier. She hurt in a dozen other places, too, and knew, from the way her ribs and stomach felt, that they were just as dark as her cheek.

But it was better than being dead.

Raphael lay prone on the couch next to her, close enough that the soles of his feet pressed against her leg. April silently clung to the warmth radiating from him. She didn't care about the grime, and just wanted to stay near, where she could see the rise and fall of Raphael's chest, and answer Donnie's questions to help however she could.

And...Donnie definitely radiated something tonight. An energy. He always did when he was really focused on something, but this felt...wrong, somehow. Aside from that, Donnie seemed...normal. Like he'd been before the kidnapping. The contrast between what April's eyes saw and what she felt from him was jarring.

"Any nausea?" Donnie was settled on the floor by Raphael's limp form, working with different vials of chemicals from his poison kit, which Mikey had fetched a few minutes back.

As with every question so far, April answered as best she could. "I don't think so. He definitely never threw up."

The room had gone quiet when Donnie had come in. Master Splinter had been asking about the attack, and when April had talked about the conversation with the red haired kunoichi, he'd gotten...so mad. She'd never seen Master Splinter that angry. In fact, April could tell that he was still mad, and just hiding it really well.

April herself felt emotionally stretched, like taffy pulled and pulled as thin as it could get before it broke apart. The feeling centered in her gut, more painful in its way than her injuries were. So many things were jumbled together in her head right now, and she was trying to avoid thinking about any of them. The conversation with Raphael on the rooftop, the fight with those kunoichi, their retreat, that...that ugly word. Mikey's face had just crumpled earlier, when he'd realized...

No. She couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't.

"Was he in his right mind?" Donnie's eyes jumped up to April's, unflinchingly intense as he mixed different chemicals together.

April hugged herself slightly, careful for her scraped arm, and glanced down to Raphael, unable to hold Donnie's gaze. "Y-yeah, Raph was still there with me- he tried to keep walking, right up until he fainted."

If Donnie noticed the quiver in her voice, he didn't pay attention to it. "Well, his pulse is strong, if a little slow, and his breathing is steady. His tongue and lymph nodes haven't noticeably swollen, and his temperature is normal. So he's stable, and it doesn't look like he's had an allergic reaction. He'll probably be just fine, but I'm going to try a few more things to see if I can pinpoint the drug they used, and how long it might be until we should expect him to wake up."

Donnie spoke to the room in general, eyes focused back on his work as his hands quickly moved, using what looked like an eye dropper to carefully prep more samples. A bowl of bloodied water Splinter had used when cleaning Raphael's wounds earlier rested nearby; Donnie's source for testing. Splinter, meanwhile, sat with Raphael's head cradled in his lap - much like April had held Donnie the night before.

The room fell silent as Donatello worked, and April found her eyes going to any movement that could hold her attention. Whatever had been keeping her awake and alert seemed to be draining away by the moment, every ache getting worse as her energy deserted her. She followed Mikey's movements for a bit, with tired eyes. He was still hovering, unable to settle, and he went back and forth between watching Donnie and Raphael, uncharacteristically worried.

Shock still lingered on Mikey's face. Earlier, Leo had worn the same expression, when he'd helped Mikey to carry Raphael back to the Lair. Even Splinter had looked shaken when they had arrived. It had gotten to everyone, to realize how close the Foot had come to killing her and taking Raphael...

But April realized that wasn't true. Donnie didn't seem fazed at all. In fact, he was as calm and methodical as April had ever seen him, and his movements were focused and precise, despite the enormous bags under his eyes...

April blinked in surprise, as she belatedly realized something.

Donnie wasn't wearing his mask. She found herself surreptitiously studying his face, knowing that it was a sign of her own fatigue that she hadn't noticed until now. She had kind of assumed the mask was like clothing to him. The few times she'd seen Donnie without it, he'd been quick to put it on again, as if embarrassed. But he didn't seem to care at all, now. Or maybe he didn't realize it wasn't on?

Huh...

Without his mask, Donnie's eyes almost look Japanese.

April blinked slowly at that thought, mulling. But, actually...it was true. The oval shape of his eyes had been obscured by the way the mask framed them. That said, April had to acknowledge that she was looking for human features in the face of a mutant turtle, but heck, if she compared him to, say, Mikey, Donnie did look like a Japanese mutant turtle, while Mikey looked like a...a California surfer dude mutant turtle.

April nearly snorted in laughter, stifling it just in time. Belatedly, a wave of self disgust hit. April hunched further into herself, ashamed. Her cheeks slowly turned pink, with delayed mortification.

Right now, Donnie was trying to make sure his brother would wake up again, while Donnie himself wore a cast on his leg, and the bruises from the abuse he'd endured for weeks still lingered, visible on his face and wrists and his...h-his neck...a-and the real reason he wore that shirt was because...

Tears pricked at April's eyes, and she rapidly blinked a few times to keep them away. She was not going to break down. Donnie didn't need that right now...!

~ My shy kaibutsu... ~

Oh, God. April reached up surreptitiously, and put a hand to her temple as if her headache had worsened, then ghosted trembling fingertips over her wet eyelashes.

That kunoichi had tortured Donnie. April was absolutely certain. Donnie had been tied down and cut into, and through it all, that kunoichi had said cruel, horrible things to him, probably smiling the whole time, just like she did on that roof...

April drew into herself even further, desperately holding still, struggling with all her might to hold herself together, as Donnie quietly continued to work.

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AN: I don't normally write such downers...hahaha. *sigh* Despite my writer's block, this thing has a plot, a definite beginning, middle, end..for anyone curious, we're hitting the beginning of the middle now. Feedback is uber appreciated, and thanks so much for reading! (Seriously though, despite walking through the plot points, so to speak, I'm not feeling too good about this chapter, so I'd be extra grateful for feedback. o_o)