Author Note: I have so many people to thank so bear with me! First off, thanks as always to Olafur who picked up on the stuff that wasn't quite right and is the most ardent supporter of 'Deep'. Special thanks go to Sassyblondexoxo for her nomintation for 'Blue' in the 2005 fanfic awards - it's good to know you liked it so much!

And a general thanks to all the people who voted for my fics in the 2005 fan fiction awards - 4 out of 6 of my fics are up for categories! I just got the list and knew that 'Alone' and 'Blue' had been nominated, but I was startled to find that 'Destiny' and this fic, 'Deep' are up for awards too! I'm so proud and happy, especially since I've only been writing Turtle fics for a few months now, since I think September. It means a lot to me.

I'll have the next chapter of 'Destiny' up tomorrow night, for those of you following it. Let me know what you thought of this chapter!

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Four days after the incident with the Dragons in the alley, Donnie called me at work and asked if we had any junk engine parts lying around. We always do, but on that occasion we had an engine block that was almost intact but none of us there had been able to repair it and it had just been going to the junkyard. Donnie practically begged me to rescue it and so I agreed, warning him the damn thing was a piece of crap.

"I'll take it home with me tonight and ya can pick it up whenever," I said casually. My boss let us take home anything that had been designated junk, thinking that we were honing our skills on the stuff. Yeah, right.

"Actually, can you drop it off at April's? I'm doing some work on her van."

"That old clunker?" I snorted. "Better just to put it out of its misery."

"You wanna tell April that?"

"Uhhh. . . I'll drop it by about 6."

Donnie laughed. "Thought not. See you there!"

And that's how I came to be dragging an engine block out of the back of my car at about a quarter past 6 (I'm a lousy timekeeper), making my way through the shop, which was closed but the door had been left on a latch for me, and struggling my way up the stairs. The damn thing might have been junk but it was still heavy. I got up the first four and heard someone heading down. Peeking from behind it I saw Casey, baseball bat in hand and an irate look on his face. For a brief moment, I thought he had mistaken me for an intruder.

"Hey Case! It's just me, watch it with that thing!"

He didn't even acknowledge me, just squeezed past, muttering to himself. ". . .That's the rats problem and stupid women don't even. . ."

I glared after him as he headed down the stairs. "Thanks for the assiss Case," I yelled sarcastically at him. I made my way up the stairs with the stupid heavy engine block, working out what Casey had meant. Sounded like they had a rodent problem and April was scared. I couldn't imagine her stnding on a chair and screaming like a housewife in an old cartoon, but it'd be kinda funny if she was. I assumed he was going into the basement for traps or poison or something. And the bat? Hey, it's Casey we're talking about. He'd probably been chasing them around with it.

The door was ajar and I opened it with my foot, carrying the engine block with almost-dead arms. "Hey guys, a little help here?"

Leo appeared out of the corner of my eye and helped me carry the engine block over to the kitchen table. We were about to lay it down when I heard April's voice. "Oh no you don't! You're not putting that thing on my table until I put down some newspaper."

She fussed around laying down newspaper while we stood there with the engine block balanced between us, rolling our eyes at each other. As soon as she finished, we dumped it on there and I tried to shake some feeling back into my arms.

"Hey April, heard ya got a rat problem," I said, glaring at the engine block that had caused us so much trouble. "Ya know, I heard that if ya put the poison in the chocolate instead of cheese, there's more chance of killing the little. . ."

I saw Leo's frantic gesturing out of the corner of my eye and turned in puzzlement, taking my first proper look at the room. I'd already noticed Donnie and Raph sitting on the couch, Mikey perched on the arm but hadn't paid much attention, too focused on the engine block. Now they all wore expressions of mixed amusement and horror. There was a chair in the room that faced away from the door and now I realised it had an occupant. A grey - rodent? - four foot tall, wearing a robe and resting a walking stick on - its? - knees.

"I find that chocolate gives me heartburn," it said in an unmistakably male voice, the look on his face simultaniously stern and amused.

I gaped at him, open-mouthed with shock. During my time on the streets, between leaving New York and getting a place in Chicago, I spent more than a few nights sleeping in alleys and many meals had come from a dumpster and as any homeless kid would tell you, the rats were the bane of that existence. Scurrying over your legs as you slept, snapping at you for custody of half a burger, emerging from corners you thought might offer refuge from the cold or rain and staking their territory - rats, I learned to hate the rats. And this was definately a rat. A very large, talking rat.

Suddenly aware of Mike sniggering quietly behind me, I closed my mouth and tried to think of something to say. "Uh. . .I, uh. . .hi?"

Blue cleared his throat. "Master Splinter, this is Sam, the guy we were telling you about? Sam, this is our Sensei, Master Splinter."

He bowed from his sitting position. "I am pleased to make your aquaintance, young man."

"Uh, yeah, same here." I tried a semblance of a smile but I doubt it looked very convincing. The deep-seated loathing of rats I had picked up on the streets was kicking in with a vengance.

Splinter seemed to understand my hesitation because he gave me a knowing smile. Slightly embarrassed - I mean, if I can get used to the idea of giant turtles, why not a giant rat? - I cleared my throat and turned my attention to the turtles and April. Blue seemed mildly disapproving, Raph and Mikey were hiding smirks and Donnie hadn't even noticed, intent on examining the engine block.

"What's Case so worked up about?" I asked the question as a distraction more than anything else - Casey was always worked up about something.

"The usual." Donnie checked out the engine block absently. "Lost an argument with April about what to watch on TV."

"Splinter and I arranged this days ago," replied April defensively. "He needs a break from you four!"

I shook my head in disbelief. Even if your family consists of four turtles, a rat, a vigilante and a redhead with an attitude problem, you'll still argue over what to watch on the tube. "Hey Don, if you decide you can't fix that engine, I'm gonna kill ya. Do ya know how damn heavy it is?"

"I can fix it." Don turned and left the engine block on the table. "But I'll do it tomorrow."

"What? You want to leave that thing on my kitchen table all night! No way mister!" April folded her arms and attempted to look intimidating. The rat, Splinter, sniggered.

"I'm gonna split," I announced, before she could ask me to move it again. "Later guys. Good ta meecha Master Splinter."

There was a chorus of goodbyes from the group as I made my escape down the stairs. Damn, I was restless! I didn't want to stay home and the Turtles hadn't mentioned coming over. Nor did I want to hit a bar with the guys from the garage. Which left me with one option - fortunately for me, it was the one thing I felt like doing.

I got home, ate a packet of noodles, changed my clothes, grabbed my chain and headed out, toward Dragon turf.

The streets were the usual mess of wannabe kids, hanging around smoking cigarettes and swapping beers, others in their mid to late teens lurking in the shadows awaiting their oppertunity to cause trouble. The serious gang members were out of sight, the people unlucky enough to live in this neighbourhood and not be a member of the 'family' locked in their apartments before dark. Show no fear and walk with a purpose and the vultures tend to leave you alone. They assume you're one of them. Then you can hunt out the real trouble. I'm anonymous looking enough so that I could be one of them. Hell, I used to be. When I beat on them, I could be anyone. It's always dark and like I said, there's nothing about me that stands out.

The fringes of Dragon turf is where the most trouble happens. The centre, everyone knows what the score is and if you're not a Dragon, you don't get that far after dark. But if you wander onto their turf without realising, or if they're off their patch trying to gain some cash or enhance their rep, that's when things can get ugly.

The first thing I saw that night was two dragons who were all of about sixteen hassling some old guy for his wallet. The old guy was wheezing and looked terrified and I decided to step in. Rather than take out the chain and knock the kids out, especially out in full view of the street, I stepped quietly up behind them and grabbed a handful of each kids hair, smacking their heads together. They both went down, groaning and I indicated for the guy to get the hell away from there with a quick jerk of my head. He took the hint and hobbled away as fast as his artheritic legs could carry him. I thought about roughing the kids up some more, teach them a lesson, but a couple of teenagers already down after nothing more than a tap didn't seem like a fair fight. The wannabes who thought gang life was glamerous weren't the real scourge of the streets. besides, I was pretty exposed out on the street, although I didn't see anybody walking around there were a lot of apartments nearby.

I ducked out of the street and down an alley, heading toward the commercial area. There were shops and clubs down there, more than once I'd found something going on there. Helluva big area though, even if something was going down that night there was no guarantee I'd run into it. Still, there was always hope.

That night though, I felt on edge. A couple of times I wondered if I should quit for the night - being nervy isn't a good thing when you finally get into a fight - but stubborn pride made me stay. If I let some groundless worry chase me away now, would it happen again the next time?

About half an hour after I laid out the two kids, I heard a scream from nearby and smirked. Sounded like some one was playing my song. I followed the sound, emerging from an alley into a quiet, deserted street, momentarily confused as to where the sound might have come from - then I heard another scream, coming from across the road and down another alley. I ran that way, heading into the mouth of the alley.

Not the typical scene I tend to find, but not unusual either. There was a girl lying on the floor on her side, one arm raised to sheild her face. Three Dragonsstood over her, no weapons in sight, jeering. They hadn't seen me and I took the oppertunity to slide the chain from around my waist, whipping it at them and taking down the first guy with a nasty blow to the head, catching the guy next to him with a glancing hit as it continued swinging around. He stumbled into the third guy, clutching his cheek and moaning, both of them off balance and I narrowed the space between us, whirling the chain again and smacking the third guy in the ribs. As he fell against the wall, the second guy rushed me and I got him with a left-hook that I barely had to swing - his own forward momentum carried him onto my fist and down he went. I walked forward, wrapping the chain around my hand, kicking the only guy left standing in the knee and grinning at his howl of pain. But for the most part, I was worried about the girl. In my experience, as soon as the thugs are distracted, the victims want to know what's happening, get up and try to run, or just gape at the scene. This girl was lying on the floor, not moving. I didn't see any blood or anything, but the lighting and the angle were bad and she might be really hurt.

"Hey, you OK?" I reached her and looked down. She didn't move, didn't answer, just lay there on her side with her arm covering her face. Damn. I couldn't take off and leave her there.

"Come on, we gotta get ya outta here." I got to one knee, checking behind me to make sure the Dragons were still down before glancing down at the girl. And all at once, three things occured to me.

I'd never known the Dragons to go down as easily as the ones I'd faced that night.

The feeling of wrongness that had been with me since the two kids and the old guy had just got a hell of a lot worse.

And the girl had begun to move as soon as I knelt down, rolling onto her back with a wide grin on her face.

Oh shit!

I managed to raise a hand to my face while trying to get back to my feet, but I had my moment of realisation too late and only had one side of my face protected when she unloaded a can of pepper spray from close range.

Immediately, my left eye began to stream with tears, feeling like she'd set the damn thing on fire. My vision blurred and went. I forgot about the Dragons, where I was and everything else as I propelled myself away from her and staggered backward against a wall, rubbing at it with my left hand. I managed to retain enough awareness to keep my right hand away from it - it was covered in the spray and could only make things worse. I had some slight vision thanks to protecting the right eye with my hand but it was watering in sympathy. And the damn spray had got up my nose and I was gasping to breath.

From the mouth of the alley, I heard sniggering.

Ambush, it's a fucking ambush. . .

Blinking, I managed to clear the vision in my right eye and saw the girl advancing on me with the can raised, clearly intending to finish blinding me before the other Dragons attacked. I shook out a length of the chain wrapped around my left hand and swung it, my poor vision meaning that I missed her but hit the can, which bounced out of her hand and rolled away into the alley. She stopped, staring off after it and I took the chance to look down the alley, where I had heard the laughter from. The figures of the thugs blurred into each other, but I could make out that the mouth of the alley was blocked completely. If I were to get out, they would have to clear a gap and that would mean luring them closer and then getting past them without being taken down. I was under no illusions about how long I'd last with one good eye and outnumbered by maybe 20 to one. Hell, even thinking I could get away was optimistic.

But, as some green friends of mine like to say, if I was going down then I was going down fighting.

I lashed out with the chain again, catching the closest Dragon in the face and breaking his nose, blood pouring from his face in an amazing gout. At the same time I sensed someone behind me and shot my elbow backward. The girl who attacked me with the spray caught it in the gut and gave a groan as I knocked the wind out of her.

The other Dragons raced forward and I readied myself for them, knowing that this was for keeps, a fight 'til the finish - well, my finish. No way I could dispatch all of them and it was unlikely I could take even a few of them down before they overwhelmed me. The only chance was to get away if I could.

The chain caught another Dragon in the temple and he staggered, but I was already dodging a pipe weilded by another. The end sraped across my arm but didn't do much damage. I spun around and managed to get a kick into his thigh, my depth perception still poor through my temporarily blind eye. A third grabbed my wrist and stopped me swinging the chain again, so I aimed a punch at his face, catching him in the throat and driving him backward, giving me the chance to pull away. I whirled the chain around, catching a couple more Dragons, and looked around for some kind of escape route. No go. The only way I was getting anywhere was by going through the Dragons.

I charged, whipping the chain wildly, my free hand snapping of punches as they tried to grab at me. I took a blow to the ribs with a pipe and stumbled sideways, straight into the grip of one of the Dragons. He grabbed my arm and twisted it up my back, the weak arm I was shot in some years ago when I was one of them. A moment later, the cahin was pulled out of my grasp. Immediately after that, another Dragon stepped forward and punched me in the gut. I doubled over as best I could while in the grip of the other guy, wheezing and coughing. My vision still wasn't cleared and all I could see as I looked at the floor was the can of pepper spray that had got me into this mess in the first place, in the spot where it had come to rest. When I recovered I straightened upslightly and saw the puncher with a gun in his hand, aimed straight at my face.

"Got ya now, shithead," he said with a grin. "Any trouble and I'll turn ya face into a crater."

I stoped struggling and glared. I've never been a big fan of guns, not having been shot. Especially not when they're pointing at me. I knew this wasn't going to end well no matter what and the gun narrowed down my options. There was only one thing I could think of to do.

I let myself go limp, startling the guy holding me and freeing me from his grip. I hit the floor with both knees,grabbed the can and brought my hand up before the gunman could alter his aim. With a feeling of poetic justice, I sprayed him in the face, the other hand making a clumsy chop at his wrist and knocking the gun from his grip.

The gunman staggered backwards, blind, and I threw myself across the alley floor, dodging the grip of another Dragon and getting a glancing kick in the shoulder. As the gun hit the floor, I grabbed it and rolled onto my back, aiming it into the air and firing off a shot. As one, the Dragons stopped moving.

I kept the gun raised as I got to my feet, ironically glad for all the shooting lessons I got as a member of the Dragons. I was beat up and could hardly see, but at least now I had an equaliser.

I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the path out of the alley was clear - they had crowded closer when they thought I was captive - so I backed out, never lowering the gun for a moment. So far, so good. But how the hell was I supposed to get off Dragon turf? No way could I walk backwards with a gun until I found a cab. And if they decided to take their chances, I wasn't sure I could shoot any of them and certainly not all of them before they took me down.

When the answer came, it hit me in the butt.

There was a car just outside the alley, door open, keys in the ignition. Apparently, the Dragons had been planning to take me for a little ride. I backed right into it, glanced down and realised I had just found my way out of the situation. Quickly, I jumped into the drivers side, slammed the door and locked it, turning the keys and gratefully hearing it roar into immediate life.

A cracking noise to my side told me the Dragons had taken their chance, the need for me to lower the gun their sign to rush in. The window fractured beneath the blow of a pipe and I trod heavily on the accelerator. As I did, the passenger side door was wrenched open - I hadn't thought to lock it. A Dragon half-threw himself inside as I put the car in drive and screamed down the street. he kept his grip, legs kicking, trying to reach the handbrake. Trying to watch the road through my good eye, I punched out at him, felt the skin around my knuckles split as I hit him a good one in the forehead. He reeled and fell out, the passenger door swinging wildly until I rounded a corner without breaking, gravity slamming it shut.

I eased up on the accelerator slightly, rubbing at my blind eye with the heel of my hand. I didn't think I was in any condition to be driving, but if I ditched the car when I got off Dragon turf, I could walk the rest of the way or maybe splash out on a cab - I was running on adrenalin then, but I knew once that wore off all the injuries I had would be singing and walking anywhere would be a chore. The important thing was that I was away from there and safe.

I heard the screech of tyres somewhere behind me and I glanced in the mirror. A set of headlights were blinding the one working eye that I had and bearing down on me fast - too fast. I was about to get rammed.

Damn Dragons, why don't they just give up?

I i stamped on the accelerator, knowing it wasn't going to help, I couldn't get out of the way in time. When the car in pursuit hit the back bumper, my car swerved into the other lane, out of control. I fought with the steering wheel, trying to regain control without losing too much speed. By the time I got the car straight, the dude behind me was gunning for another bump and I swerved again, on purpose this time, doing 95 on the wrong side of the road and sending out a quick prayer to whomever might be listening that nothing came in the other direction. Behind me, the car changed lanes at high speed and clipped the corner of the rear bumper, sending me into a wild spin. I must have gone around four or five times before the side of the car hit a lamppost and came to an abrupt stop, the back door crumpled in. The engine hadn't even stalled and I stood on the accelerator again, the car shooting forward. I shot past the car that had rammed me as it was slowing and immediately the driver changed his mind, taking up the chase once again. I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer. I was half-blind, beat up, the car had already been smashed into one obstacle and I knew the next one might kill me.

All things considered, it hadn't been one of my better nights.

The other car was catching up to me fast and I took another corner at speed, almost colliding with a van coming in the other direction. A big green van that looked armoured.

Oh no. Busted.

I couldn't have said for sure, what with my eye and everything, but it looked like the van the Turtles drove around in. Don's pride and joy, the machine that Casey drove through the door of a Dragon warehouse one night with me in the passenger seat. They were heading through Dragon turf, to look for trouble perhaps or as a shortcut home, I had no idea. The point was, they had warned me time and again about going after the Dragons and here I was, in major trouble. All I could hope for was that they didn't see who was driving the car - it wasn't mine and there was no reason for them to think I was anywhere but home.

The car chasing me rounded the corner like the car in the horror film and forced me to up my speed still more. No cops in this neighbourhood, not at this time of night.And a moment later, behind the car, another set of headlights appeared. The Battleshell.

Gritting my teeth, I took my eye off the road for a second, glancing into the mirror, knowing even as I did it that i was asking for trouble. The Battleshell surged forward, ramming the other car and sending it careening into the other lane, away from me. The driver fought for control, ploughed through a trashcan at the side of the road and braking hard. The Battleshell aimed for it and I took my chance, taking another corner too sharply and losing sight of the other vehicles. I slowed to about 80 and kept glancing in the mirror to see if I was being followed, but the road behind me remained clear. Nothing was coming after me.

I got off Dragon turf a few minutes later and finally dared to slow to the speed limit as I joined the somewhat busier streets away from gang turf. The adrenalin buzz began to wear off and suddenly I was exhausted, ditching the car closer to home than I would have liked - a glance in the rearview mirror convinced me that I was far too conspicuous to hope to pass unnoticed after the fight I had been in that night. Instead I walked the distance to my apartment, dragged my carcass into the shower and checked out my injuries. Not too bad, although the bruises were pretty numerous and colourful, there was nothing especially debilitating.

I had some major questions though. What was with the ambush? They had never gone that far when Casey was the only vigilante in town. And the way they had gone about it was too well thought out for them, getting my attention with the kids and springing a trap. Surely one guy couldn't be worth all the trouble they had gone to.

Unless. . . maybe they thought I had something to do with that guy I helped out couple of nights ago. What did he say he was again? A guardian of some sort? They had been after him the night I ran into him. Whatever they wanted from him, they had been determined to get it - even Hun had been in on the action. At least he hadn't been there tonight. Maybe they didn't think I'd prove to be as tough as him. That was quite depressing actually.

And there was the other matter. The turtles had showed up and saved my ass. Again. Had they known I was in trouble or was it just a coincidence, them seeing a car being chased and deciding to help out?

I guessed I'd know soon enough.