JUST CUZ I HAVEN'T DISCLAIMED IN A WHILE: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. Not sure who owns the original comics or the new series (which the characters in this story are based on) but I know it isn't me. I'm writing about them because I like them a lot. I am not making any money off of this. No infringement is intended.

The strange man with the camera had short periods of wakefulness over the next couple of days, but he was not coherent through any of them. While Donatello and Master Splinter kept an eye on him, Leonardo, Raphael, Casey and April searched the streets for signs of Mikey.

The only lead they could track was his Shell Cell, which showed up on the radar several blocks away from the bridge on the other side. They found it in a Dumpster behind a large, one-story building with a big, but empty square courtyard. They combed every inch of it and the surrounding area; every one of them searched at least once. There were people there, but no sign of their missing brother and son.

Laughter had long since left the lair. It seemed Michelangelo had indeed been its source; it vanished when he did. The only focus now was combing the city or helping the injured cameraman wake up. Casey kept an eye around the warehouse for the men who had escaped, but no one came. They seemed to have what they came for.

Leonardo expressed his worry to Donatello, three days after Mikey was taken, that when Raphael ran away as a kid, he had only been gone for four or five hours before Splinter found him. They all remember how sick he'd been when they got back. If Mikey had been gone for two days... how much longer could they hope?

Donnie shrugged, weakly argued that they were much older now and Mikey may not necessarily have been lying in the sewers somewhere like Raph had been, and told his brother that they couldn't give up.

A soft moan interrupted their conversation. Don and Leo rushed into the living room, where the man in black was sitting –yes, sitting – on the couch, holding the icepack that they had left for him to his head. His eyes widened when he saw them.

"I-i-i-i-it's y-you!" he stammered, terrified. "D-d-don't hurt me, please! I wasn't a big p-part of this. I-I-I-I just helped t-take the p-pictures. I was paid! I'm not the leader here, I swear!"

"Who was?" Leo demanded. "Who do you work for?"

"Some British guy," the man replied, "He's a photographer, who worked for this other Brit, this rich guy I only saw once. I don't know much about this whole operation; I just take the pictures."

"Not anymore, you don't," said Leo. "We took your camera."

"You did?" the man cried. "Can I have it back? Please? Look, whoever you are, that wasn't mine. Miller'll kill me."

"Miller?"

"The photo guy who hired me. It was one of his. If he finds out I lost it, he..."

"Won't do nearly as bad as we will if ya don't help us," said Raph from the doorway. His eyes, framed with red, were narrow with fury. The man grew even more terrified.

"Don't hurt me!" he cried. "Please! I-I-I said I didn't have anything ta do with this, and I-I-I mean it! I-I-I-I-I just took pictures!" His last statement was a loud, but petrified squeak. He took a couple deep breaths. Damn, his head hurt. "What do you want from me?"

"Where's our brother?" asked Leonardo.

"What are you talking about?" said the man, pointing to Raph, "He's right there."

"Not him," said Don. "Our other brother."

The man's eyes grew wide. "You mean... th-there's more of you?"

"Yeah. One of you guys took our brother the same night our friend found you. Any idea where he could have gone?"

The man only stared, wide-eyed, at Leo. The blue one... there was something they had warned him about with the blue one... but what was it? His head hurt so bad... The blue one's eyes narrowed.

"We're asking you a question," he said.

"I-I-I dunno much," he said. "I just took pictures."

"Tell us about that, then," said the one wearing purple, his voice calm. "Whatever you can."

"I know that this rich Brit guy has been looking for you guys for a month or something... dunno how he found you but... he hired Miller to take photographs for proof. After he got a good picture, he hired us."

"Who's us?" asked Blue.

"Just a buncha guys who'll do stuff for money," he said. "I said I didn't wanna hurt nobody, and I'm no good at that stuff anyway, so he told me to watch this place and take pictures if I saw you."

"Did you get any?"

He shook his head. "The last thing I know, this creepy guy in a mask is behind us, the other guys were running and... then I'm here." He rubbed his forehead. What was it that they had told him about the Blue one? He knew had to beware, but he would have known that anyway. What was it?

"So do you have any ideas where they could have taken him?" asked Purple.

"I know the Rich Brit had some vet working for him, but I don't know much about that. Dunno where they would have taken him, but after the vet's done with him I think they're taking him to the Boss's place."

The three brothers' eyes grew wide. "Done with him?" asked Blue. "What do you mean, 'done with him?'"

"I dunno..." said the man, "Done... figgerin out what he is, I guess. Seeing if he can talk, an' what he is and stuff..."

"Will he be alive when they're 'done with him'?" asked Purple.

The man nodded. "I dunno that they'll off him," he said, "not till they get all of you, at least." He didn't dare hold anything back, not from these guys. Who knew what they could do to him if he tried?

"Then he's safe," Red growled, "Cuz they ain't gunna get all of us. So where is this boss's place?"

The man gulped. He'd been afraid of this part. If he told them, Miller would probably kill him. If he didn't tell them, these freaks would. He swore to himself, that if he somehow made it through this alive, it was country life for him from now on. Find some small-town chick in Vermont or something, settle down and be peaceful. How was a guy supposed to make a living and stay alive at the same time in New York? Everyone was out to kill each other. He tried to buy time buy groaning loudly and holding the ice pack to his head. It really did hurt; maybe it could gain him sympathy.

It didn't.

"Answer me!" Red cried, brandishing two dagger-things from his belt. The man yelped and drew back.

"That's it!" he cried, pointing a finger at the blue one. "Swords! You've got swords!"

Blue nodded. "How did you know that?"

"Miller warned us." He looked warily from Red to Blue, then glanced at the purple one. He seemed the least angry, but who knew what crazy weapons he had? The man didn't want to find out. "I-I-I'll tell you, but ya gotta let me go if I do. I can't go back there, he'll kill me for talkin' to you."

"We won't kill you for helping us find our brother," Blue assured him, with a glare at Red. Red didn't move. The man took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said. "I'll tell ya what I know. He won't be there yet, it'll take a day for the vet to be done with him..."

"It's been almost three," Blue told him. The man's eyes grew wide. Three days?

"Geez," he muttered, rubbing his temple, "How hard did that guy hit me?"

"Not as hard as one of us will if ya don't start talkin' soon," Red growled.

"Okay, okay," the man threw up his hands. "I said I'd tell you. He'll probably be there, then. It's..."

It turned out the building they'd searched had been the right one, but they had simply been there at the wrong time. April and Casey booked the man on the next train ride to Burlington (at his request) and the six of them set off that night to find Mikey.

Donatello had rebuilt his turtle-probe, and they watched the screen in the truck as it explored the interior of the building. The man who decorated was very wealthy, that was for certain. Well-kept paintings, many very beautiful, hung over white walls and a beautifully furnished blue tiled floor. For a moment, the halls seemed empty.

They could hear the sound of footsteps behind them. Donnie brought the tiny machine to a halt.

The person walking didn't seem to notice anything unusual, but a foot struck the tiny metal turtle and sent it reeling.

Donnie remembered, as the picture on the screen spun, when they'd done the same thing at the TCRI building. Watching it whirl had made Mikey carsick. Smiling fondly, Don almost mentioned that memory, but the looks on everyone's faces reminded him that his little brother could be dying, or dead. His mouth went dry. He remained silent.

It was some woman who had been walking; her high-heeled shoe had struck the probe. She paused and took a quick scan of the floor, obviously having noticed that she had hit something. She seemed rather young – about April's age – with thin blonde hair pulled into a bun. April gasped when her face turned towards the screen.

"What?" asked Casey and Leo together.

"Donnie," she whispered, shocked, "Do you think you can follow her?"

"What?" asked Casey. "Do ya know her or somethin'?"

The woman turned around, thankfully not having seen them, and entered a side door.

"No problem," said Donnie. He easily slid the turtle-probe under the crack.

It seemed like a very large, well-furnished office with a large window opening up to the city street. They could see a sliver of the van through it. An older man in a pressed off-white business suit with prim silver spectacles on his long nose was standing at the window.

"I thought," he said in a cold British accent, "That we were clear that your services were no longer required, Miss Cartagan." April's eyes widened further.

"For the last time," the woman snapped, "It's Doctor. And as long as that kid is as sick as he is, he'll need one." Everyone sat forward. "So, as I see it, my services are still required."

"Then you and I see things very differently," he replied.

"Where is he?"

'The old man raised his eyebrows. "How is that your concern?"

"Because if you leave him to his own devices in this state, he will die." This sent a cold pang through everyone's chests. "He's really, really sick." Pause. "Don't you care?"

He shrugged. "I have never been much of an advocate for animal rights," he said lightly. April's jaw dropped in anger, Casey and Raph growled, gripping their respective weapons and everyone else scowled. How dare this man call their brother an animal?

Dr. Cartagan was livid. Had she expected this, she never would have agreed to this job. Never. "I am," she said, "and if he could be described as such I would still be fighting for his safety –"

"I would gather as much from a veterinarian."

"but he isn't. I've seen his brain scans, I've heard him speak. He can talk, you know. He has a name. If you let him die, you'll be guilty of murder." Sir Ratcliph didn't move. "Don't you care?" Cartagan cried desperately.

"I find it hard to believe that anything that shade of green could possibly be human."

"Not human," said Cartagan, "But he's a person just the same. A kid."

"I find that very difficult to believe."

"He's sixteen!" Cartagan cried, "His name is Michelangelo, and he has a family. He told me! There are people out there looking for him! He's a human in every psychological aspect. How can you just let that die?"

Ratcliph reacted a little too calmly to this outburst. "If," he said, "What you tell me is true, and if his family is as humanlike as you seem to believe, then he is exactly where I want him. One of Miller's photographers went missing the very night we captured him. If he is indeed with this creature's 'family,' and if he has an American's sense of fidelity, he will tell them exactly where to find us. That will put these other creatures right where I want them."

At that, April and Leo had to hold back both Casey and Raphael.

"Bait," Raph growled through clenched teeth, "He's usin' Mikey as bait."

"Lemme at 'em," said Casey. "Jus' lemme at 'em!"

"But," the man on the screen continued, sighing, "If you must, he's in the courtyard."

"The courtyard?" Cartagan cried. "He's outside?"

"There is simply no pleasing you, is there?"

"Was he there overnight?"

"He certainly wouldn't me much of an effective lure indoors."

"But that could kill him! Can't you tell how sick he is? You're killing him! Is that what you're trying to do?"

"Quite honestly, once I have all of them, I have no personal preferences."

"You heartless miser," said April and Dr. Cartagan at the same time.

"I told you," the man said coldly, "that he is in the courtyard. Now, unless you would rather throw empty insults at me, I would suggest that you go there before I call security."

Dr. Cartagan, too angry to speak, stormed out. The turtle-probe followed.

"That's it," Raph growled. "I'm goin' up there."

"I'm coming with you," said Leonardo. "Donnie, Master Splinter, April and Casey stay here. Bring the turtle-probe in. April, how well do you know that woman?"

"Really well, said April. "She was one of my best friends in college. We've kept in touch pretty well since then."

"Can we trust her?"

"Yeah. I... I had no idea she was involved in this.... She... wow... I knew she was taking a second job, and it was a little unorthodox, but I had no idea... What an awful man... Yeah," April said, shaking her head. We can trust her."

"Good. If she comes out, talk to her. We could use her help."

"What about me?" Casey demanded.

"You stay here. If Raph and I need help, we'll let you know." That last thing Leo wanted was to have to hold back a furious Raphael and Casey at the same time.

Casey groaned, but didn't protest.

As silently as possible, Raph and Leo mounted the rooftop, bringing the courtyard into view. They both froze. Leo felt his stomach turn to ice.

Mikey was sprawled out on his stomach, his head turned facing where his brothers sat. Patches of snow littered the edges of the courtyard, but the patch of dirt where he lay was clean. The rest of the area appeared to be empty.

"Oohh," Leo heard Raph hiss. "Are they gunna pay for this one." Leo closed his eyes. Raphael didn't know how familiar all of this was...

Leonardo was the only one awake when Splinter returned. Only he saw his brother, limp in his Sensei's arms, one arm dangling and his head tilted backwards. His eyes were

...closed, his mouth pulled into a frown so tight it was almost a grimace. Mikey's usual debonair manner, dulled in sickness but not completely lost, was long gone. Now, he was so completely still that

...if Leo hadn't heard Raphael's harsh, ragged breathing, he would have thought his brother dead. He was completely soaked in cold sewer water, but neither Leonardo nor his Master noticed the smell. All the young turtle could feel was cold, hard

...panic like a knife in his chest. He needed to get Mikey out of there and fast. It was a miracle he hadn't died already. They hadn't even given him a blanket.

"Leonardo," said Splinter. "You must wake your brothers and go to bed. I will take care of Raphael."

"Is he... is he gunna be okay, Sensei?"

Master Splinter looked very grave and, for a moment, very old. "I do not know, my son. It will be easier to tell in the morning. Now go to bed."

Dr. Cartagan burst into the courtyard furiously, interrupting Leonardo's thoughts. "Why can't you just help me?" she cried to someone in the doorway.

"Look, lady," replied a gruff voice. "We just do what we're paid ta do. What happens to that... thing... ain't our business."

"He's practically a human being, and he's dying!" the young doctor shouted. "How is that not your business?" No answer. "Are you even paying attention to me?"

"Look, toots," said the same voice. Dr. Cartagan scowled. "The game's back on, and it's getting good. So would'ja mind keepin' it down out there?"

"He needs to be on his back!" she cried. "Or his side, but not his stomach... he can barely breathe like this. And I'm not strong enough to move him on my own. Will you please just help me for one second?"

A chorus of cheers and cries of 'touchdown!' came from the inside hall. Leo's hands began to tremble with anger.

"Look, hunny," said the voice. "Get it through that pretty little head o'yours. You're on your own."

The door shut. Dr Cartagan, seething with anger, crossed the yard to where Mikey lay. She knelt down and placed a hand gently on his shell.

"Michelangelo," she said quietly into his ear. "Michelangelo." He didn't move; she rubbed her hand across the back of his shell. "Michelangelo, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" No response. She put a hand on his forehead.

"Is there a blanket or something... anything... we can use to warm him up?" she cried. No answer. Cartagan thought for a moment, then stripped off her own jacket to place it over the turtle's shoulders. "It's not much," she told him. "But it'll have to do for now. Hang in there, kiddo," she patted his head gently. "Just hang in there. I'm gunna get you out of here. They aren't going to use you as a trap much longer." She emphasized the word 'trap,' looking up over the roof on all sides. Raph and Leo drew back.

"Does she see us?" asked Raph.

"I don't know," Leonardo replied. "But that's a warning if I ever heard one."

"How many guys do ya think they got in there?"

"I don't know."

The woman looked around again. The same gruff voice called from the doorway.

"Hey, lady, boss says it's time's up."

"What?" Cartagan cried. "He didn't tell me I had a time limit."

"Tough luck, hunny. Now scram before we hafta make you."

The young woman patted Mikey one more time on the head, whispered something in his ear and left. Raphael looked like he wanted to jump down, but Leo had the sense to hold him back.

"Hang on," he warned his brother. "You don't know how many of them there are."

"I don't care," Raph growled. "They got Mikey. I can take 'em."

"You heard her, Raph," Leo pleaded. "It's a trap."

"Yeah, and it's workin'."

"Wait. Let's just hear what she has to say. Maybe she can help us."

Raphael had a tough time taking his eyes off his little brother, though he knew, in spite of himself, that Leo was right.

"Fine," he said. "But we're gettin' Mikey outa there. Tonight."

April's heart pounded as her old college buddy came storming out the front door. Her coat was gone, but she seemed too angry to notice.

Dr. Cartagan pulled her cell phone out of her briefcase, searching the list for April's number. Time to make a phone call.

"Jeanie."

Dr. Cartagan looked up. "April!" she cried. "It's so good to see you..."

"I hate to be impolite, but...

"I need to talk to you," they said in unison.