Sammy blinked awake, her vision cloudy and her eyelids heavy. She took a slow, deep breath and held it as she rolled over, stretching out her legs and arms. Her muscles were sore and her bones felt bruised, but despite the ache in her body, she felt surprisingly rested.

She pushed the breath she'd been holding forcefully out through her nose as memories from the previous night floated into her awareness. Oh god… Had Donnie really found her spasming on the floor of the shower room? Naked?! After falling and busting her head open no less. How fucking embarrassing.

Sighing, Sammy rolled back onto her side only to jerk to a stop. "Oh!" she gasped, her nose inches away from someone's head, someone's very distinctly emerald green head with a fraying orange band knotted around it. Mikey… Sammy carefully lifted herself onto her hands to peer over the turtle's head. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly agape as he snored softly. What was he doing sleeping on the floor?

Sammy sat up the rest of the way and looked around her. The make-shift living room was devoid of all life except for herself and Mikey. Some animated show played silently on the TV across from her, casting the dim room in an array of funky colors.

"What time is it?" She grumbled, shoving the blanket below her knees to rummage about in her sweat's pockets for her phone. She found it stuffed in her right pocket, sitting snugly against her thigh. When she clicked the side button, the sudden brightness of the screen practically blinded her. "Damn," she grunted, squinting sideways at the lock screen.

4:45 pm.

How long had she been asleep? Actually, she didn't even remember falling asleep… Had she…Had she actually slept nightmare free? Sammy slumped back against the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling, dumbfounded. Huh. She didn't know how to feel about that. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a restful night's sleep. It felt…weird. She felt weird. And hungry. When was the last time she ate?

Her stomach rumbled painfully and she flopped her head to the side, looking towards the kitchen. Pancakes sounded delicious right now - chocolate chip pancakes and eggs. With a side of bacon. Hopefully, the turtles wouldn't mind her using the kitchen…

With a sigh, Sammy excavated her legs the rest of the way from the blanket and carefully got to her feet, using the arm of the couch to steady herself when her knees threatened to give out. When she was sure she would stay upright, Sammy shuffled around Mikey and slowly made her way to the kitchen. She gingerly opened the refrigerator door, peeking over the top with a cringe when jars and cans rattled. Mikey snorted once, falling over onto his side, but remained asleep. Relieved, Sammy ducked back down and began to pull what she needed from the fridge before moving on to the metal shelving unit that acted as a pantry, closing the fridge door behind her silently of course.

Sammy lost herself in the process of whisking pancake batter and eggs. Cooking had always been a comfort for her. It was…methodical, easy. It allowed her mind the respite she desperately needed but got so little of. And there was just something about cooking for more than just herself that made her feel almost giddy. Which was probably why she now had a stack of two dozen pancakes and two plates of bacon and eggs each sitting atop the counter. She'd seen the amount of food the turtles could put away, especially Mikey and Raph. Sammy glanced at the piles of food on the counter as she turned the burners off. She hoped this would be enough…

"It is good to see you up and about, child."

"Oh!" Sammy startled at the sudden voice behind her, dropping the spatula to the floor with a clatter. "Splinter!" The greying rat strode into the kitchen, his hands clasped behind his back and a small smile on his face. "Good, uh, morning. Well, evening now I suppose."

Splinter hummed. "Yes, it is turning out to be a good evening, isn't it?"

"Um." Sammy blinked. "Yeah. I suppose so."

Those big black eyes regarded her long enough to make her start fidgeting. "You look well-rested," he finally said. "Did you sleep well?"

Sammy considered his question and decided that yes, she had. "I actually did," she answered in a quiet voice.

"Good. That is good." Splinter bent and picked up the spatula from the floor. "The boys were worried about you," he told her as he placed the utensil in the sink. "As was I."

Grimacing, Sammy murmured a quiet apology. "I didn't mean to worry anyone." She leant against the counter and shook her head. "I can't believe all that happened last night. It's embarrassing…"

"There is no need to be embarrassed," Splinter assured her with a shake of his head. "Some things are out of our control."

Sammy nodded slowly. "I guess so," she muttered, tugging at the neck of her shirt self consciously. "Did, um, did Mikey sleep on the floor all day?" she asked cautiously, peering over Splinter's shoulder to look at the turtle still sleeping on the floor in front of the couch.

"Ah, yes." He turned to look at his youngest son, a fond smile on his face. "He wanted to stay with you and make sure that you were okay. Both he and Leonardo."

"Leonardo?" she asked, taken aback. The Leo, the stone-faced leader who probably hated her, had kept vigil over her all day as well?

Splinter nodded. "Yes. Raphael and Donatello came and went as well, even taking turns sleeping on the second recliner every few hours." The old rat turned back to her, his expression proud. "They all wanted to be sure you would rest easy."

They had all…kept watch over her while she slept? Sammy's heart squeezed as her stomach fluttered, feeling both flattered and uncomfortable at the same time. The only people to have ever really looked out for her were Casey and her team so this was…new to her.

"They didn't have to do that," she whispered, dropping her gaze to her feet. She was positive they all had better things to do than to watch her jerk around in her sleep.

But Splinter shook his head at her. "Do not worry so," he assured her. "My boys do not do anything that they do not want to." His tone was rueful. Sammy wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that though, so she just nodded. "And they will be overjoyed to find breakfast waiting for them when they awaken."

"Oh. Yeah." Sammy turned to look at the mountain of food she'd prepared. "I, um, woke up hungry and thought you and the boys might like something as well." She shrugged. "I figured they could use the nourishment after last night, er, this morning."

The old rat gave her another smile, the gesture scrunching his nose and crinkling his eyes. "It does smell delicious." Splinter strode over to a cupboard and pulled out a stack of plates. "I believe we should get some before I call the boys. They will most assuredly devour it all if we do not get our share first."

Sammy didn't doubt that one single bit, so she followed Splinter's lead and stacked some food on her plate. As the two of them were taking their seats at the table, Splinter called for his sons, his voice echoing loudly throughout the Lair. The reaction was immediate: the still Lair came to life with the sounds of shuffling bodies and groans.

The turtle in the living room jerked awake with a snort. "Wuh-What?!" Mikey jumped up and rolled to his knees, looking around himself with bleary, unfocused eyes. "What time is it?" He turned his nose to the sky and took a sniff. "Ooo… Is that bacon?!"

Both Sammy and Splinter hummed in amusement as the orange-loving turtle scrambled to his feet and came racing into the kitchen. "Leave some for your brothers, Michelangelo," his father warned.

The turtle paused in the process of piling his plate to toss a sheepish grin at him. "Right. Sorry." He put one more scoop of scrambled eggs on top of his bacon before carrying his food over to the table and plopping down in the seat across from her. After a few forkfuls of eggs and an oversized bite of pancake, Mikey seemed to realize who else was at the table with him. "Shammy! Shweetcheeks! Hey!" he said through a mouthful of food. "Yer awake!"

"Michelangelo! Manners!" Splinter chastised.

Mikey swallowed noisily. "Right. Sorry, Dad."

"Smells good in here, Dad," Raph grumbled as he came lumbering into the kitchen, his eyes half-lidded.

"Yeah." Donnie came shuffling in after his brother with a yawn.

Leo brought up the year, wiping a gym towel across his brow as he asked, "You cooked, Dad?"

"No. Samantha did," Splinter answered easily before tucking into his breakfast with a bit more decorum than his youngest son.

All four brothers froze, slowly turning their gazes to the woman at the table timidly shoving a bite of egg into her mouth.

"You made this?" Mikey asked at the same time Donnie came rushing over, leaving his plate forgotten on the counter.

"Sammy! You're awake!" The genius turtle, sans his purple mask, knelt beside her chair as he pressed a finger to the inside of her wrist. "How are you feeling?" Sammy's heart painfully skipped a beat at the obvious concern in his eyes. "You gave us all quite a scare earlier."

"Oh, uh." Sammy cleared her throat. "I'm good." She flashed him a tiny, shy smile. "Thanks, uh, for everything. Really."

Donnie shrugged, the gesture stilted and awkward. "There's, um, no need to thank me." He cleared his throat and released her wrist to reach for her forehead. "How's your head feeling?"

Her head? Sammy lifted a hand to her temple, gauze catching on the pads of her fingers. Oh, right, her head. "I honestly forgot about it," she told him.

"I suppose that's a good thing," he muttered. "We can change the bandage after breakfast."

Sammy nodded. "Yeah, sure."

He smiled at her nervously as he stood up and went back to get the rest of his food. The two oldest turtles were already sitting at the table, digging into their breakfast with gusto. It was quiet as Donnie joined them, everyone immersed in their own plates.

Despite Mikey having gotten to the food first, Raph was the first to finish. He dropped his silverware onto the plate with a clatter and sat back with a satisfied sigh. "That hit the spot," he rumbled. "Didn't know ya could cook," he told Sammy.

"I haven't, not for a while," she said with a one-shouldered shrug. "But I thought you all deserve a decent breakfast after…you know." She pointed to the bandage on her head.

Raph grunted. "Well, thanks."

"Yes, thank you," Leo said, the gentleness of his tone surprising her.

Donnie murmured his agreement.

"You're welcome," Sammy murmured. She ducked her head to hide the burn she could feel in her cheeks.

It went quiet once more, the only sound that of forks scraping against glass as they all continued to eat while Raph got up for seconds. Sammy pushed what little food she had left around her plate, taking small bites here and there. It felt familiar to be sitting at a table and sharing a meal with people. She could almost imagine that it was her team sitting with her, enjoying a much-deserved breakfast after a long, grueling night of work. Her pancakes had been a favorite of theirs; Kayne always had about six or seven. He always said they were perfect: soft and fluffy on the inside with the perfect crisp on the outside. Sammy smiled sadly around her fork. She missed him. She missed her team. She wondered how they were doing… It had been so long since she'd last seen them. She'd missed Ryan's and Corra's anniversary. And all their most recent birthdays…

"That was delicious, Samantha," Splinter said, breaking her from her forlorn thoughts. She looked up as he slowly rose from the table and took his clean plate to the sink. "The boys will take care of the dishes for you," he told her, squeezing her shoulder lightly as he passed by her to leave the kitchen.

Surprisingly, none of the boys argued. Sammy did though. "Oh, no. They don't have to. I can take care of it-."

"No," Leo said, interrupting her. "Raph, Mikey, and I will take care of it." He stood as he spoke, taking his empty plate with him. "Donnie can change your bandage in the meantime."

The aforementioned turtle nodded, scooping the last few bites of pancake into his mouth before handing his plate to Leo. "Yeah. Let's do that. Oh." He glanced down at the small amount of food left on her plate. "Unless you're not finished…"

"Oh, no." Sammy shook her head as she set her silverware on top of her plate. "I'm done."

"Alright," Leo said from the sink. "Leave it there. We'll get it."

Sammy did as he said, getting to her feet with a soft "thank you". As three of the turtles started the dishes, the fourth placed a cautious hand on the small of her back and led her towards the back of the Lair. In the infirmary, Donnie helped her up onto the gurney before rummaging through drawers and cupboards for fresh bandages.

"Alright," Donnie sighed, bringing back a handful of gauze, tape, and peroxide and setting them beside her. "Let's see how it's doing."

Donnie stood directly in front of her, his hard stomach pressing into her knees. Even sitting on the gurney, the turtle was still a good head taller than her. It was surprisingly intimate, sitting so close to him and breathing in his unique musk. As he began to carefully peel off her soiled bandages, Sammy studied the swirling patterns on the soft shell of his chest; a plastron she believed it was called. She'd been this close to the turtles before, but she'd never taken the time to really look at them. They were so…mesmerizing to look at. All the patterns and varying shades of the same, earthy colors. And the muscles. Kayne would certainly be jealous of them. Sammy smirked at the thought.

"So…" Donnie said, interrupting her perusal of him. "How are you feeling? Really?"

Sammy flinched at the chill of the peroxide against her skin as he gingerly dabbed the soaked gauze around the laceration. "I'm fine," she told him in a flat tone.

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "You can tell me, you know." Donnie pressed a thick square of gauze over her wound and taped it down, careful not to get any of her hair caught under it. "After last night-."

"You saw them," she said, cutting him off without warning. "Didn't you?"

Donnie shifted his weight. "S-Saw what?" he asked, deciding to play dumb.

Sammy pushed a breath out forcefully through her nose. "The scars, Donnie."

"Y-Yes," he stuttered out quietly after a poignant pause.

She'd known that already, of course, but there was one thing she didn't quite understand… "Then why haven't you asked about them?"

"I, I… Well. B-Because, uh." Donnie continued to stammer as he tried to find the words to say until a voice from the doorway spoke for him.

"We didn't want to cause you any more stress," Leo said as he slowly strode into the room, his other two brothers following a foot or two behind him.

Sammy raised a brow in disbelief. "You didn't seem to care about that before," she accused. "Why should this be any different?"

The eldest turtle's eye twitched at her tone. "Everything is different now."

"Is it, though?" Sammy countered.

Leo's expression hardened, the corner of his lip curling up in a snarl. "Of course it is!" He snapped.

"Why?!" she hissed. "Because you feel pity for me?"

The turtle blinked, his face going slack. Sammy scoffed. She'd hit the nail on the head. They'd learned she was damaged and scarred, so only now did she deserve their pity and understanding.

"I don't need your pity," she grumbled. She didn't want their pity. She got enough of it from Casey…

"It ain't pity," Raph growled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant against the door jam.

"It's sympathy," Leo clarified in a tight voice. He strode forward and crouched down in front of her with a sigh. "Look," he started, trying to meet her eyes but failing when she refused to look at him. "I apologize for my…behavior. I was only trying to protect my family, but that's no excuse for the level of animosity I directed towards you. You just…took us all, me, by surprise, I suppose."

Sammy lifted her eyes to his, gauging the sincerity of his words by the look in his eyes. After a moment, she sighed, deciding that what he'd said was the truth. She doubted those blue eyes ever lied…

"How much did you find on me?" she asked, her tone resigned.

Donnie spluttered beside them. "W-What do you mean?" he asked nervously. "We, we didn't, uh…"

Sammy chuckled, the sound humorless. "Please. I know better than that."

The two brothers closest to hers locked eyes for a short moment before Leo returned his gaze to hers. "Your history only went as far as eighteen years old, after you graduated high school. And then-."

"Nothing," she finished for him. "Yeah." She nodded. "There wouldn't be."

Sammy sighed and closed her eyes, every cell in her being more than doubling in weight. She felt so heavy… She'd really love to just lay down but…it was time they knew. If not all of it, most of it.

"We should take this conversation to somewhere more comfortable," she muttered. There was absolutely no way she would be talking about this unless it was while she was curled up in a mountain of blankets.

Sammy found herself back on the couch wrapped up in her blanket and a second one that Mikey had brought her from his own room. She had it tucked tightly under her chin, thinking it smelled faintly of pizza.

All four turtles sat around her with similar expressions of blank nervousness that easily hid the morbid curiosity and anticipation behind their eyes. Mikey had taken up his same spot on the floor, only this time he was facing her. Beside her, on the couch, Donnie sat as far away from her as he could, one of his legs bouncing up and down vigorously. The oldest turtles had taken up residence in the recliners on either side of the couch, both watching her expectantly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Splinter in his alcove, tending to his bonsai trees with one ear quirked in their direction.

She had a full audience…

Sighing, Sammy settled deeper into her cocoon of blankets and found a crack on the floor by Mikey's knee to focus on. "I joined the military right out of high school," she began, figuring it best to start at the very beginning. "Army." Sammy poked a hand out of the top of her blankets to scratch her cheek. "You see, Casey had a plan outside of high school. He was going to become a New York City Detective. Me?" Sammy shook her head. "I had no plan. And what do freshly turned eighteen-year-olds do after high school when they have no plan? They join the military." She'd gone straight to the local recruiting station the day after graduation despite Casey's protests. "I'd decided I was going to join the Green Berets. Special Ops seemed like the way to go at the time…" Sammy trailed off, her brows furrowed as she stared hard at the crack in the floor. "I was past all the required training and a good month or two into Green Beret training when They showed up." She remembered that day with a clarity unlike any other, the day her entire world had been torn apart; she just hadn't realized it then.

Training that morning had started out like every other morning before that: grueling, stressful, and downright painful. She'd been so focused on the course that she hadn't noticed them at first, the men in black suits. They'd stood out like sore thumbs amongst the sea of uniforms that she was surprised she hadn't noticed them right away. They were just…standing there, the walking cliches that they were, watching the soldiers as they went about their business. She couldn't see their eyes, not with their sunglasses, but she could feel their stares as if they were a physical touch.

"Who were they?" Mikey breathed.

Sammy blinked, relieving the stinging ache in her eyes. "Recruiters is the simplest explanation."

"Recruiters?" Donnie asked, his voice just shy of a whisper.

"Yeah," Sammy answered with a nod.

"Fer what?" Raphael pressed when she said nothing more.

"They wouldn't tell us." The crack she'd been staring at blurred as she lost focus. "Not at first. Not until They'd picked somebody. They lined us all up, and went down the line one by one." She shivered at the phantom sensation of the men's eyes raking up and down her body, assessing her. "When they got to me, they went no further."

"Why?" It was Leo that asked the question this time.

Sammy reluctantly glanced up and met his eyes. "Because They'd found what they'd wanted."

"And what was that?" Leo asked in a quiet and cautious tone.

The answer to that question made her pause. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer because she most certainly did; it was just a…sore spot for her. A very, very sore spot. It was still a struggle to admit, even after all she'd done, what they'd chosen her for; what they'd seen in her.

Sammy closed her eyes, unable to keep them open as she answered the question. "A killer." She could see her stony expression in the reflection of the recruiter's sunglasses, coldly staring back at her from behind her eyelids. "He'd looked at me and saw a killer," she breathed shakily.

The room fell eerily quiet at her admission, the weight of the silence pushing down on her shoulders. Sammy had never admitted what she was to anyone that didn't already know. And it wasn't a relief to admit it out loud to the turtles either (not that she thought it would be). It felt like she had just damned herself…

"I hadn't known that that's what he saw," she said softly, unable to stop herself from continuing. "Not until much later. Not until there was no going back."

Leo was the first to break the silence, his tone carefully controlled. "What do you mean? That there was no going back?"

Sammy grimaced. "Exactly that. There was no going back." She shook her head slowly. "Once They enlist you…They erase you. Who you were. Who you were going to be. They make it so that you can never leave. Not unless you're in a body bag." She whispered the last sentence so quietly she wasn't sure if any of the turtles had heard it.

"Then, like, why would you even go with them, then?" Mikey asked.

She huffed a laugh and opened her eyes to find the turtle directly in front of her, watching her with wide, sad eyes. "Their offer was…too good to pass up. The money itself was - what I could send back to Casey! I accepted without a second thought. After all, how bad could it be?! Couldn't have been any worse than what I was already doing." Sammy scoffed at her own stupidity. "I will tell you, though, that the old saying is true - if it's too good to be true, it probably is. And in this case, it was. By the time I'd figured out what it was They'd have us doing, it was too late to back out."

"W-Well, what d-did they, um, have you doing?" Donnie stuttered out the question, his eyes impossibly wide behind his glasses.

Sammy met his gaze with a blank stare. "Killing. What else?"

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! I'm so sorry for such a delayed update! I'm still working on my novella, but I'm nearly done with edits. It's so close to being published! Once it is, I'll be able to update more often! I hope you enjoy this update of 'What Are You Hiding?'!