DISCLAIMER – I only own Anna and the story. The Warrior's Creed belongs to Robert L Humphrey, the TMNT's belong to Mirage and Eastman & Laird. Enough said.

CHAPTER 3 – WHENEVER I RETURN HOME

Everyone is happy because I am there

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Dale lay in his bed, frustrated and confused. He still could not understand why his sister left without saying goodbye. "She always says goodbye, always hugs me, and always says she'll pray for me?" he complained to himself in silence. "Why'd she just up and leave like that without letting me know she was going?" He didn't quite believe his new friend when the Foot soldier told him that, after Dale went to the communal restroom, Anna argued with his roomies and then left in a huff, saying she'd never return. There was just something about it that didn't seem right. For one, he and his sis were very close and they had always promised to be there for each other, no matter what. Maybe he was getting in over his head with this new club he'd joined. He knew that Anna didn't like it, didn't like his new set of friends. Yet, on her subsequent visits, she insisted that she would never give up on him, not ever. Still, she had been quite upset with him prior to his need for the restroom. Maybe she had been madder at him than he had thought.

He rolled carefully over onto his back, his arms folding neatly across his chest. He stared hard at the ceiling, studying the shadows that played along the surface there. He was alone in the bedroom for the evening. His roomies, the other initiates, were out on a trial run. If he hadn't of screwed up during training earlier that day, he would have been out there with them. He felt along his ribcage and grimaced at the dull pain they gave in response, reminding him of earlier. Fortunately, no ribs were broken, but he still had to stay behind. It was considerate of his trainer to give him the night off. Yet, Dale could sense a bit of disappointment, if not anger, from the man. There was a subtle feeling that the ninja was not too pleased with him. Dale wondered if maybe any kind of failure, even failure to duck at the right moment, would not be permissible. Still, that didn't bother him as much as not seeing his sister again. It had been three days since her last visit and she had been coming every day since she learned where he was staying.

"Maybe she just gave up." He asked himself. As he ruminated about that, he began to get worried. "I wonder if Mom and Dad know about her visits." He recalled how evasive she was when he had asked her about it. She never did admit to making her visits known to them. Dale also remembered the disheveled appearance that Anna made, almost as if she slept in the clothes she wore. "Very unlike her, that's for sure." As he thought about it, he realized that to come every night as she did would put some miles on her shoes. A sudden fear crept up his spine as he wondered, "Maybe, she ran away?" No, he thought as he shook his head, "My little sis run away? That's so unlike her – she's too responsible." Then he started thinking about his home, his parents, and where he was now. "The Foot sure are strange people." He wasn't as enamored with the organization as he had been at first. Initially, their overtures to joining up and doing something exciting for a change seemed like a dream come true. "No getting up at the crack of dawn, sleeping as late as you like, having all your needs met for just a few hours of work in the evenings. Best of all, learn a self defense that even a Navy Seal would be envious of!" That's what lured him in. He had always wanted to do stuff like that, but his parents prohibited such things. Yet, after two months of training and getting kicked around, he wasn't so sure about the 'club' any more. Still, Dale craved action and adventure. He was always that way from the time he was a toddler and all through his early teen years, much to the dismay of his family. He chuckled at the comments his mother would make about his giving her more gray hairs than a woman her age should have. He then felt a brief moment of melancholy as he thought of her. He missed his family – especially Anna. Three days and still she hadn't returned to visit him. What had happened to her?

Suddenly, Dale's eyes went wide as a large misshapened shadow fell across his bed. Before he could react, though, a hand clamped over his face, holding a cloth that covered his nose and mouth. At the same time, another hand pushed him down into the bed. He tried to struggle, but between the strength of the one holding him down and the cloth with its sweet smelling odor, he found it difficult. The more he fought, the more he breathed, and the more he breathed, the more he felt his strength slip away. Just before he fell blissfully into sleep, he noticed a green face with something blue across it. Finally, as he relaxed against the hands that held him fast from the affects of the chloroform, Dale's eyes closed in slumber.

The next thing he was aware of was – the wind. He tried to clear the cobwebs of sleep from his mind as he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. When did they get a fan for the apartment? Then, he realized that he seemed to be on the ground, flat on his back and definitely somewhere out in the open. The wind died down a little, but picked up again, brushing against him gently as if to nudge him further awake. "Oh, my aching head!" he complained as he tried to sit up. "Wh- where am I?" He asked himself out loud but to no one in particular.

"About twenty stories high." An unfamiliar voice replied.

Startled, Dale sat straight up in surprise. As he looked around quickly to find out who had said that, he asked anxiously, "Wh-who's there?" Yet, no matter how he turned, he couldn't see anyone. As he took stock of his surroundings, he realized then that he was up on top of the roof of a building. It was still nighttime with the neighboring buildings lit up against the night. However, from where he was sitting in between two storage sheds, the deep shadows there concealed him from view. "Who's there!" he demanded nervously once again.

"A friend." The voice answered.

"Yeah? Well, if you're such a friend, show yourself!" Dale ordered briskly. He continued to look around, hopeful that whoever it was who was talking to him would show his self.

"No can do – not yet, anyway." The voice replied evenly.

"How'd I get here?" the boy inquired, realizing that whoever the 'voice' was, he certainly had something to do with his being on the roof.

"Doesn't matter how, but why." The voice teased.

"Why? Why? What kind of game are you playing? Whoever you are, mister, I'm not one for games!" Dale was now getting agitated as he climbed up to his feet. "You better start giving me some answers or – or you won't know what hit ya!" Remembering the first defensive position taught to him in recent weeks, Dale brought up his fisted hands and turned slightly, looking around and wondering where this mystery person was. "So, you gonna show yourself?"

No answer other than an amused chuckle that seemed to surround him. "What's so funny, wise guy? You want a little butt kicking?" Dale taunted out.

"From you?" the voice asked derisively.

"Hey, you insulting me?" the boy asked testily.

"Only if you want to be." There was more sniggering from the voice, which only made the boy angrier.

Then, the voice asked, "So, you want to learn ninjitsu, do you?"

That caught Dale off guard. However, he then wondered something. Maybe this was one of those tests his trainer had told him about, that there would be a test but he wouldn't know when or where it would happen. "Say, is this one of those tests?" He smiled, convinced he had figured it out, "Bet you're one of those Foot Elite, eh?" Dale felt smug at the prospect of redeeming himself, to show that he had been paying attention after all during practice. His little slipup during the afternoon exercises – or katas, as they called them – would be a thing of the past if he had anything to do about it.

"Foot? Me?" the voice asked him, its tone mocking and almost ready to break out in a laugh. "I wouldn't be caught dead!" It seethed out, the voice low and menacing,. "I'm more than the Foot, kid, and more than you can imagine."

A shiver ran up the boy's spine as the ominous inflections in the voice brought Dale's skin to prickle. There was a deep-seated anger there that he could discern and it was obvious whoever the 'voice' was, he took himself seriously. "How come I'm up here, then? Why'd you bring me here?" the boy finally asked.

"To show you the truth." It answered flatly. "Do you want to know the truth, Dale?" it asked.

Swallowing just a little since he realized 'the voice' knew his name, Dale looked around once again before replying, "Truth - about what?"

"About the Foot." It said.

For the past several days, Dale had been wondering about that very thing, about what the Foot really was. Every time he asked what it was they did each night, the question was always answered with a question, usually to test his own loyalties. "Would it matter what we did if you're loyalty to us was sincere?" his trainer would respond. "The Foot do not suffer fools gladly or for too long. Are you a fool, Recruit?" That pretty much quelled whatever discussion Dale tried to initiate about their activities. In fact, this evening he would have gone out on his first night patrol, whatever that meant. It would have answered his questions what it was the Foot did.

"Yeah, I would, actually." The boy replied in relief. Finally, maybe he would have some answers. Maybe this was how they decided if he was worth their time. Possibly the voice was another trainer to throw him off guard, to see where his true loyalties lie.

"Then, you must walk to the edge of the building and then look down. Do not make a sound and allow only as much of yourself over the edge where you can see. Do not make any sudden moves, lest you be seen." The voice directed. "Then, when you have seen enough, return to the shadows."

Dale gulped just a little, apprehension filling his being. He looked to his left and saw the edge of the roof. He gathered his courage and started walking in that direction. Soon, he was out of the shadow and at the lip of roofline. He crouched down on his hands and knees and carefully peered over. As he looked down below, he could see several black clad warriors from the Foot trashing a convenience store. They were throwing stuff out of the business and spray-painting symbols across the brownstone. Though he was twelve stories up, Dale could tell that the symbols were a warning. Just the fact that none of the soldiers had taking anything, but bent on destroying the store was enough to convince him.

Before he could pull back, the voice whispered, mere inches behind him, "Do not turn around," it directed as it placed a firm but gentle hand against his back, "Do you see, now, what the Foot are all about? Do you see what kind of life they are training you for?"

Slowly, Dale nodded as if realizing for the first horrific time what kind of organization he had involved himself. Throughout the past month, he had believed them when they said they would train him as ninja. They would give him opportunities to know what true honor was all about. He had been so convinced that they were telling the truth that, until recently when his sister's visits stopped, he had all but rejected his own family. The voice continued, "Your sister would have been killed that night she last visited you, except, I had been following her for a week." It now laid a hand on Dale's shoulder and squeezed gently, "I thought she was one of them. However, I intervened in the attack that was meant for Anna and saved her as a result. She told me about you and that is why you are up here. To be shown the truth and possibly give you a second chance."

Dale realized now that this 'voice' wasn't a trainer at all. It was obvious to him that the 'voice' was an enemy of the Foot. Without attempting to change his position, Dale asked, "Who are you, then?"

"As I said – a friend." Then, the hand against his back released its gentle touch.

Dale turned quickly around but all he saw was the empty rooftop, save for himself and the deep shadow he had woken up in. Again he heard the voice, now coming from the same deep shadow. "Your sister awaits you at her home with your parents. The choice is yours. If you chose to stay and join the Foot, then I will leave you. You'll have to find your own way down." The voice paused for a moment, assessing the young man who now stood and faced the dark recesses of the roof. Then, it continued, "Or, if you've had a change of heart, I can help you find your way out."

A sudden noise from the convenience store dragged Dale's attention away from the shadows. He carefully worked his way back over to the edge of the building and peered over once again. What lay before him now were the bodies of his fellow compatriots, strewn around the front of the store and inert from a battle that he had just missed. Yet, how could he have missed it when it had only been seconds from the last time he had looked over the edge of the roof?

The voice spoke again, "My brothers have taken care of those that would bring terror to this neighborhood – for now, anyway. Some might have been your roommates. If you join the Foot, it will only be a matter of time before we meet again, only instead of talking with me, you will end up as they did." He saw a shudder run through the human as the boy stood there and surveyed the carnage below. The voice continued, "My family and I are protectors of this neighborhood and of the city; it's what we do. I have been asked to intervene on your behalf for your sister." There was a long pregnant pause to allow Dale the chance to choose. Finally, the voice asked, "So, what will it be, Dale…the Foot, or life?"

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Anna had slept very little for the past three days. Told to go home, to make amends with her family, and to wait, she was assured that somehow, her brother would be rescued. Leo had said as much. Still, considering he was just one person up against the number of Foot that frequented the brownstone, she had her doubts. Her parents had gladly welcomed her back home, relieved she was in one piece, yet sad her mission had failed. "He'll come home when he's ready, Anna," her father had said. Still, knowing what Leo could do, what the girl saw him capable of, if Dale did indeed decide to remain with the Foot, she doubted very much he would return to them alive.

"Anna, dear, dinner's ready!" her mom called up to her.

The girl was in her bedroom, lying on her bed. With a heavy sigh, she stood up and proceeded out and down the stairs. "Coming." She replied dispassionately. Her hair was free flowing, now, and not tied up in a ponytail. She wore jeans and a light floral blouse, but walked barefoot down the carpeted steps. Anna sighed once again as she thought about her brother and the events that took place only three days earlier. Though still amazed by it all, none of Anna's excursions could replace the dread she felt every time she thought about him. True to her word, though, she never said anything to her parents about Leo or her adventures up on the rooftops of New York City. He had brought her home within a block of her townhouse, safe from any Foot activity and beyond their sphere of influence. Leo silently shadowed her, though, just to make sure, finally seeing her walk unharmed back into the loving arms of her family. She had looked back to thank him, if only with her eyes, but try as she might, no sign of him could be seen. "Ninja turtles; who would've thought?" she had commented to herself in amazement.

That was three days ago, an eternity for one so worried.

A short time later, Anna walked into the dining room and silently greeted her parents. Her father sat at one end of the table while her mother sat to his left, both of them watching her and both trying to smile encouragingly. The table was set and the food ready for dishing up. It all smelled heavenly, but Anna didn't have much of an appetite, not with what weighed her heart down.

"Anna, dear, he's made his choice. You did what you could," her mother said. "We all did. Even the police couldn't help us."

"I am sure that in time," the father began, "your brother will see the errors of his ways and return home to us. We have to have faith, Anna."

Nodding acceptingly yet sullen and despondent, the girl slipped her napkin off the table and placed it atop her lap. . However, just as they bowed their heads for prayer, a knock at the front door interrupted the trio's blessing.

"Now, who could that be at this hour?" her mother said. She stood up and walked out of the dining room and into the foyer. Anna could hear her open the front door. There was a long pause as if all time had stopped, as if all sound was suddenly sucked out of the house. Suddenly, the two in the dining room heard weeping, spontaneously inviting Anna and her father to rush out of the dining room to find out what had happened.