Disclaimer: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles belong to Mirage Studios, Peter A. Laird, and Kevin B. Eastman. I use them without permission, and without monetary profit.

Chapter Ten:

After borrowing the shower at April's to clean herself up (she needed it badly), Mikey walked Chassidy to work.

"You work here?"

"Ironic, isn't it?"

"It depends. Do you teach their kick-boxing class?" Before Chassidy could make a comment his light-hearted mood changed. He looked over her shoulder with intense concentration and in the time it took Chassidy to figure out he had heard a car pulling up into the large parking lot he was gone.

"Hey there, stranger." Stephanie, a coworker called when she spotted Chassidy huddling in the shadows near the back entrance of the gym where they worked. "I was wondering if you were coming back or not."

"Yeah. I'm back."

Stephanie stared at Chassidy's face, obviously lingering over the discoloration of her black eye that even heavy makeup couldn't hide. The swelling had gone down, thankfully, though it was still very very tender.

"When are you going to leave that jerk? You're better off alone."

Chassidy shrugged, and hugged herself. "I did leave him. I don't want to die. I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to die."

"Good." Stephanie said, gave her coworker another glance, then opened up the door to the building.

The building was silent except for the shuffling of a few fellow workers and the cleaning crew who had gotten there before them. The girls made their way to the employee locker rooms.

"How long until you take him back?" Stephanie sounded bitter.

Chassidy paused for a moment, then continued to slip into her work out outfit that was stashed in her personal locker.

"That's what always happens. The abused always goes back to the abuser. I'm not claiming to know you that well, but we work together and so I know enough about you. You're going to take him back, aren't you?"

"I don't know."

Stephanie rounded the row of freestanding lockers to level Chassidy with a glare. "Don't. I don't want to see you dead. If you go back to him next time he'll kill you."

Chassidy kept her head down, busying herself with pulling her hair back into a ponytail and touching up her make up.

Stephanie let it go by leaving the locker room.

Chassidy sat down on the benches in between the rows of lockers and buried her face in her hands.

A part of Chassidy knew she wasn't going back to Stone, wouldn't in a million years. Whatever had kept them together before was gone – she didn't want to be with him anymore. He'd been her protector, and because he was hitting her, he wasn't really doing that either. Hadn't been for a long time.

But the other part was weak. She knew Stone. He wasn't complicated and she knew how to handle his moods. If she just steered clear of him when he was in a bad one, she'd be fine.

She chewed over her different parts the entire day while she helped her customers get in shape.

She didn't teach the kick-boxing class, but she knew how to defend herself. Which was what made Stone's abuse ironic. If she just stood up to him, used her knowledge against him he wouldn't hit her.

For some reason whenever Stone hit her, all of the knowledge leaked out of her head and she was left a cowering mess of nerves and tears. She just wanted to make him stop hitting her, and fighting back would only piss him off more, wouldn't it?

Chassidy taught women how to respect their bodies, to know when it was telling them to stop, when it was telling them to go, how much it could take, taught them to enjoy the burn and sizzle of sweat and heat. She taught them that they were powerful beings but it was a lesson she didn't understand. In theory, yes, but not truly.

At first customers didn't was her to being their trainer. She was still a teenager, short, small, and frail looking. She wasn't very strong, she wasn't very imposing, and she carried herself like a porcelain doll instead of an Amazon. But she was a good trainer. Even though she only had her GED, even though she never went to college and even though she didn't practice what she taught, she knew people well, what buttons to push, and how to get people the results they were looking for. When an overweight woman told her 'take no mercy' and then complained about the pain and hunger, Chassidy would egg her on, shout encouragements, coo over the progress and make her feel wonderful, make her forget about the pain and hunger and then guilt trip her into not eating anything when she got home and out from under Chassidy's watchful eye.

Most of them she lost, but the ones who stayed flourished under Chassidy's brand of training. They forgot she was half of their age and instead respected the fact that she knew what she was doing. The only reason why she had managed to keep this job was her regulars. The ones who stuck by her, saw her a little as their daughter, and refused to have any other personal trainer but her.

She wasn't qualified on paper for it, but the gym wasn't that top-notch and what she did know was enough to keep customers coming. She also was a part-time secretary to the manager so when she didn't have customers to train she filed paperwork and made coffee. She tried to make herself as useful as possible so the paychecks kept coming. She needed them. And enjoyed the time away from Stone. Or, she used to.

During her lunch break Chassidy sat on a rowing machine and contemplated the rest of the equipment strew all about the room. Each wall was covered with several panels of ceiling to floor mirrors and had rail bars at about waist height for people to stretch on. From every angle she could see herself sitting on the rowing machine.

She stared at the picture she made. Her expression was jaded, her eyes haunted. She looked like what she felt like. She hadn't known she was so transparent. It bothered her, but not enough to stop staring.

People were working out all around her. They were sweating and grunting with effort. The smell of five different kinds of overtaxed deodorant filled the room but it didn't bother her. By now she was used to it. Between her job and Stone it was an almost permanent smell lingering in her nose.

Which was why it was so odd that her new friends smelled of nothing when they sweated. At least nothing she could detect. Then again her new friends were giant mutant turtles, so that could possibly be the reason.

Chassidy put her hands on the row machine's handles and put settled her body into it. She pulled the 'oars' two times, then four. Despite the fact that she worked in a gym she didn't really work out. It was other people's sweat she smelled.

She wasn't overweight – Stone yelled at her when she ate too much – but she wasn't tone either. She wasn't strong. She wanted to be.

Chassidy continued to pull the oars until he skin was humming with warmth and effort. She was sweating. It hadn't taken much, but then again she wasn't used to exercise. Pushing herself just enough to feel the burn but not enough to hurt, her brain repeated the mantra 'strong, strong, strong, strong.'

Donny was vibrating. His body was thrumming with energy and he was practically brimming with information. He hurried over to Leo's hiding spot, barely able to keep his mouth shut.

"The building is absolutely fascinating!" he finally blurted, his voice a harsh whisper. "I've found years and years worth of research. The farther into the core of the building you go, the most mysteries I found. It looks like that's where the Foot is, so we'll have to wait until they leave for their homes before investigating the heart of the building."

"What is the research of?"

"Believe it or not, genetics. It's a military building, but they've got equipment in there for studying and dealing with DNA. The equipment left behind is broken and very outdated, but it's still there."

Leo's eyes widened. "DNA as in.. cloning and altering it? As in –"

"US! As in us! This building might have clues as to why we are the way that we are. We mutated from a canister of ooze, yes? Well where did that canister come from? We mucked in the ooze by happenstance, but I've always suspected that there was more to the ooze than a simple mistake. It was made for some purpose. There might be others out there like us. Not us turtle us, but us mutated animal us!"

Leo put a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. Donny was shaking. His black eyes were fierce and joyous. His brother finally had his finger on the pulse of a question he'd had unanswered for a long time. Possibly. This could just be a research facility that dealt with DNA funded by the military. Leo wasn't going to jump to any conclusions. And Donny shouldn't either – he'd be disappointed if all of this wasn't what he thought it was.

"Calm down, Don. We need to be cautious and that means slow. I say we return to the den and report to Splinter, then come back when they've gone home and the only Foot we have to deal with are the sentries posted at the perimeter."

Donny's grin was stuck on his face. He nodded eagerly. He'd waited this long to get this close to answers, he could wait a little while longer. They turned in the direction of the city and ran hidden in the tree line, their feet barely making any sound.

Chassidy had been surprised how easy her old routine was to fall into. Because she had been working at the gym for a little over two years it made sense. She hadn't understood how much peace she got out of her routine until that day. She was out of the back door smelling of the shampoo and conditioner she kept in her locker feeling calm and refreshed before she realized she'd spent the past two hours on autopilot.

The only difference was now that she was outside of the building, nothing else was the same. She wasn't going to see Stone in his truck waiting in the parking lot to pick her up. He wasn't going to bitch her out on the ride home about how much trouble picking her up was, even though he wouldn't let her buy a car of her own or register for a driver's license.

She was going to register tomorrow during her lunch break. But getting a car was going to take a little while longer since she didn't have much money to afford groceries let alone a car. But that was all going to change. She'd close her joint account with Stone as well. Then open another one in her name only. Later.

Her heart fell into her feet thinking about how much she was responsible for now that she was on her own. Completely on her own. The only time she'd been this alone was the first few months on the street after running away from home. It hadn't seemed this scary back then for some reason. Maybe because she hadn't understood just how much she had to do to be a functioning person in society.

It all royally sucked and was much easier with Stone dealing with it. He might have knocked her around a bit, but at least she didn't have to worry about everything.

Sighing she started forward towards Stone's familiar truck in the same handicapped parking space it always was in. Then she stopped and realized it wasn't supposed to be there. Stone wasn't supposed to be picking her up. Not anymore. How had he known she was working again? She froze, not sure what to do. She shouldn't walk towards the car, but her escort 'home' wasn't here either.

Stone got out of his car, his face smiling, his arms open as if expecting her to run into them. "Chass! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you, sweetheart. I'm sorry about the other night. I wasn't all there. Sometimes I lose it, and, well, you know."

She shook her head, her hands fisted at her sides. She couldn't move, she was stuck there, too frightened to even breathe.

"I waited up all night for you the first night. I even reported you missing! But you know the police – they don't do anything more than lift a donut to their mouth and suck down coffee. Baby, I'm sorry about everything, okay? I didn't mean to hit you. Can you forgive me?"

The closer he got, the more desperate panic filled her. He musn't get close enough to touch her! She shook her head so hard she was getting a headache.

A blur and then someone was slowly standing between her and Stone.

"What the –." Stone took a step back, his body alert and ready for a fight. His eyes focused on the person standing between them.

"I don't think the lady wants to go home with you."

"You." Stone eyeballed Michelangelo from head to toe. "I know about you guys. But this isn't Foot business. This is personal. Back off and I won't call for back up."

"Go ahead." Mikey sounded like he'd just been promised a candy bar. "I need my morning exercise."

Stone growled and punched at Mikey's face. He would have ducked out of the way if Chassidy hadn't been behind him. Instead he blocked the blow and using his grip on the human's forearm shoved him back a few paces, moving the fight away from her.

"Chassidy, get out of here." Mikey called while deflecting Stone's aggressive attacks. "Go find the others."

"Chassidy don't you move a muscle!" He stopped his attack to face his ex-girlfriend and point a finger in her direction, pinning her in place with his glare. "You stay right there till I'm finished with the freak. You're coming home with –."

Michelangelo crouched and swept a leg under Stone so the man fell to the ground in the middle of his command. He sent Chassidy a look. She nodded jerkily and scurried towards the nearest manhole cover. Her fingers were numb and her entire body shook with fear. All the while she tried to block out the sounds of fighting. She didn't want to see who was winning. If Stone was winning he'd come after her and beat her again. All of his words of concern were only to get her under his thumb again.

The manhole cover was harder to pull up with the stress of the situation pressing down on her. Her fingers slipped and she was scratching them raw trying to get a handhold. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, but fear was clogging her mind and it took her what seemed like hours to push the manhole cover aside enough for her to slip down.

Even then she scraped her back and pressed her body uncomfortably against the ladder. With shaking thighs and weak knees she shivered her way down the ladder. However at the bottom she had no clue which direction to go in. She couldn't remember which direction they had come from in the morning.

She could still hear the scuffling of Michelangelo and Stone fighting and she knew it was only a matter of time before one of them won. She would be safe if it was Mikey, but if it was Stone, she would rather have a head start.

Picking a direction, she fled.