Disclaimer: You guessed it. I do not own the Ninja Turtles! Tadaaa!

Note: This story is full of funny quotes from the new series that I thought to be hilarious. This is more for my own entertainment, simply chock-full of the quotes that I love (and happen to hear incessantly from my little sister, who likes to speak almost completely in ninja-quotes) Hope you enjoy it!

The Sleepwalker

The freshly lit candle flickered against the draft of the chamber. Donatello, standing in one of the four corners, and facing away from the center of the dojo, thought, this chamber is way too breezy. Maybe if I installed a better ventilation system, we'd get fewer drafts through here… but his train of thought was cut off as Master Splinter remarked, "Donatello, where is your focus?"

All four of them, the teenage brothers, were standing in the same position. Upright, each occupying one corner of the dojo, and facing outward. Not a one of them knew precisely which brother occupied which corner. This wasn't their usual training session. They were all well practiced with sparring, but rarely would Master Splinter make them wait before the sparring continued. If they did, special instructions always followed the wait. Donatello had the feeling that this would prove to be a different lesson altogether. Leonardo seemed to be unfazed by the delay in the sparring match—or at least he grumbled less than the other three. Raphael and Michelangelo had been arguing, and Raphael was ready to blow off some steam, and didn't mind complaining about it—to which Master Splinter responded with a sharp remark about being patient. Michelangelo was just digging it—as usual.

Their Master Splinter—a giant, soft spoken rat—had finished lighting the candles surrounding the dojo. And this wasn't weapon's practice—their Sais, Bo, Nun Chucks, and Katanas were all lying off to one side. The object of the exercise would soon be explained.

Blowing out the match that he'd lit the candles with, Splinter informed, "My sons, tonight our training will be simple sparring. However, you will be blindfolded. Be prepared for anything. I will endeavor to disrupt your focus during your battles. First I will whisper the name of your appointed sparring partner. The point is to develop your other senses, and therefore you must find your partner." Splinter clapped, and the room was bathed in darkness.

Michelangelo squatted down, and spoke incredulously over to Donatello. "Dude!" he exclaimed in a joking tone. "You put in the clapper?"

His question was answered with a swift strike to his left wrist from Master Splinter's walking stick. "Ow!" He yelped.

"Michelangelo," Splinter reproached, "The other rule I am imposing as a calculated challenge is silence. To find your enemy one must listen, and feel. Talking shall be banned this training session." To everyone he spoke, "Turn your masks around." The four brothers complied, and turned their masks to one side so that their masks became a blindfold. Soon names were all whispered in each brother's ear. Donatello heard, "Your partner is Raphael." He waited for another couple of moments, for Master Splinter to give them the go-ahead.

"Begin," came the command.

Unbeknownst to his sons, Splinter stood in the middle of the dojo, as silent and still as an old tree, waiting for his opportunity to strike. The silence began to be broken by movement. Michelangelo, ready to finally expend his energy, turned sharply around, and headed for the middle of the dojo, expecting his opponent—Leonardo—to head that way too. What he didn't realize was that Leonardo stood silent, listening for any tell-tale sounds. Michelangelo's signature step alerted him, and he began to move. However, poor Michelangelo chose to walk in the direct path of Master Splinter. He made to about three feet in front of the spry old rat before he found himself flying to the opposite end of the dojo, having been sent there by Master Splinter's well-aimed throw. Leonardo could tell when he landed, because Michelangelo couldn't help but let out an audible 'oof.'

Leonardo smiled, and began to head in his direction.

Raphael performed almost as bad as Michelangelo on the 'patience' scale. He felt about ready to burst with the need to opponent-bap. He headed began walking slowly, listening for Donatello. He smiled when he heard Michelangelo fly overhead, and land on the ground. Serves ya right, Mikey, he thought. Donatello wasn't walking. He listened intently for Raphael, recognizing the grunt that came from Michelangelo, and guessing that he'd just fallen victim to Splinter. Donatello focused on Raphael, and what his footsteps sounded like; heavier than his other two brothers,' and with less of a purpose to it than Michelangelo. He listened hard... ah! There, to his right. Raphael was moving slowly, by the sound of it. Donatello stepped lightly toward him. Upon hearing Donatello move, Raphael stopped. Bad choice. Raphael finally found what it felt like to fly, courtesy of Master Splinter. However—perhaps for his amusement—Master Splinter must have decided to help Raphael find his partner, because his partner just became his landing pad. Donatello, not expecting Raphael to suddenly land on him out of the blue, crumpled into a heap and both unfortunately let out an 'oof.' This time, Michelangelo had to smile.

But his smile didn't last for long. His distraction had cost him the element of being prepared, giving Leonardo the advantage of honing in on his opponent, and taking him by surprise. Michelangelo heard the slight movement sound, and dodged, barely avoiding being caught in the jaw by a powerful hand. He struck out blindly (of course) but found that the place he thought his brother had been occupying had just turned up empty. Then he promptly fell to the ground from a hard shove from behind.

He had to bite his tongue, because he wanted to say, "All right, Leo, that's it!" He would have certainly received another wrist-whack from Master Splinter's walking stick had he not disciplined himself.

Donatello had much the same problem that Michelangelo did. After picking himself up from being landed on, he stood still to listen and figure out where his opponent had gotten off to. Raphael smiled as he listened to Donatello peel himself up off of the floor. He won't even see this coming. Literally.

With that, he sent a barrel-punch Donatello's way. Donatello heard the movement just in time to block it, but it brought him off balance. That was when Master Splinter chose Donatello as his next victim. A carefully placed walking stick put the already unbalanced turtle once again in familiarity with the dojo floor, but luckily Donatello refrained from 'oof-ing' this time. Master Splinter then took the same place that Donatello had just been, and turned now to Raphael, posing as Donatello.

Raphael didn't notice a thing. He moved to strike again, throwing a well-placed dragon-punch. Or what would have been well-placed had the right person been there. His fist met air, and another fist met him. Raphael became acquainted with the ground right along with Donatello.

Leonardo had been having a great time making a Mikey Sandwich out of his opponent, until Master Splinter stepped into the picture. He stood in two sparring turtles' proximity, and merely waited for the fighting to come to him. He managed to get his tail around Leonardo's waist, and knock him to the ground, when the sparring match between all the brothers was interrupted by one of the chamber doors opening—an automatic device that Donatello had rigged up so they didn't have to worry about opening any doors. A gust of wind blew out the candles, and the darkness became absolute. Yup, thought Donatello, feeling the breeze, and hearing the sputtering of the candles, I really gotta install that new ventilation system.

All four turtles and the rat paused in the training session to listen.

Small, light footsteps sounded in the room. One of the candelabras holding the now blown-out candles tipped over, making a lout clatter that sounded throughout the chamber.

As the brother's listened, the four turtles heard something like a dull thwack, followed by another something like a groan before Raphael had the brains to take off his blindfold, clap, and turn on the lights.

Master Splinter had pinned a human, and not just your average thug. It was a girl, probably around the age of eighteen, and by the looks of it, completely unconscious.

"Well, that's strange." Leonardo commented as he adjusted his headband.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. "Dude Leo, that's the understatement of the year."

Raphael and Donatello both nodded. "Who is she?" Raphael asked.

"Yeah, and how did she find this place?" Donatello put in.

Splinter stood. "She was not conscious when I attacked. I did not feel her muscles tense up as I brought her to the ground, nor did she seem to relax after she hit, like a person will when knocked unconscious. These are natural reactions, and when surprised, there is no way to keep from reacting as I described. She was not awake when she walked in."

"Whoa, that's totally strange." Michelangelo remarked.

"So she just… sleepwalked in here?" Donatello queried in a disbelieving voice.

Leonardo leaned forward and examined her. She had long brown hair, pulled back into a severe braid, and she wore a white, full-body, form-fitting jumpsuit, that zipped up in the front. She wore no shoes. Attached to her left temple was a weird round, silver-looking device slightly smaller than an Oreo cookie, and another attached to the right of her torso, just below the rib-cage. "Hey Don, do you know what these are?" Leonardo pointed to the strange devices.

Donatello came forward, and looked at them. He shook his head. "Your guess would be as good as mine, Leo. I'd have to take them apart in order to even begin to understand what they are, but that would mean removing them. I don't know what that would do to her."

Leonardo nodded. "Well, she doesn't look dangerous in any case. Maybe we should make her comfortable until she wakes up." He picked her up, and began walking toward the "living room."

Michelangelo looked up quickly. "Not the couch! I haven't finished watching that DVD—"

Raphael stepped over, and slapped him over the head. "Can it, Mikey! You can finish watching it later. We need to figure out how that chick got in here in the first place."

Michelangelo walked over to his now occupied couch. "Awww man!"

Donatello approached the couch with a blanket in his hand, covering the girl with it. Splinter had brought a pillow, and put it gently under her head.

"Let us wait until she awakens." Splinter said. He sat down cross-legged, and began to meditate. Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael sat down to do the same. Michelangelo rolled his eyes.

­Boring! He thought. He made his way over to the coffee table where his ipod and earphones were laying and turned on his favorite music. He called to the three meditating turtles, and the meditating rat, "Somebody get me when she wakes up!" With that, he reclined in a chair and began bouncing to the beat.

Leonardo rolled his eyes. Yup, that's Michelangelo! He settled in to meditate, but his eyes flashed open when he heard a sickening groan from the girl on the couch. She curled and tensed up in an apparently huge amount of pain. Her gritted teeth, and her clenched fists—turning white—indicated the intensity of the pain she felt. Whacking Raphael who'd sat beside him, he said "Raph, look!"

Raphael looked at her and then frowned. "What the shell…?"

Donatello got up and went over to her. Her face looked white…or blue. Blue? Donatello put his hand out to see if she was breathing. Nothing. He called out "Guys, she's not breathing!"

Leonardo and Raphael looked at each other. "Uh oh!" Raphael exclaimed. They got up and beat feet over to her.

Splinter rose to his feet, and walked over to her as well. He noticed something. "Donatello, those things are blinking." He pointed at the strange devices on her temple and torso.

"Ummm…" Donatello looked at the devices. He saw that the muscles directly around the devices were spasming visibly. "Yikes!" He exclaimed. And the devices themselves seemed to have activated. Not only did they blink, but they also glowed.

"That's it!" Raphael exclaimed. "I don't care what these things are. They've got to go!" With that he removed them both from the poor girl's body. The moment they lost contact the girl's skin, they stopped blinking and glowing. They'd left puncture wounds that welled up with a little blood. But other than a little blood, removing the devices seemed to be the trick to getting her to relax. Her breathing returned to normal, and her face became calm.

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "Man, I feel sorry for the punk that did this to this chick." He pulled out his sai, and twirled it a little to get his point across.

Leonardo nodded, "Yeah, this girl has been seriously mistreated."

Michelangelo noticed the hubbub around the girl and walked up. "What's the haps, dudes?"

"Aw, Mikey, you don't wanna know." Raphael shook his head, and handed Donatello the two devices. "See what you can find out from these."

"Way ahead of you!" Donatello affirmed, his brain already starting to take over. "They've either got to be set on a timer to do whatever it was they were doing to that girl, or…" He walked over to his worktable, and turned on a light.

Michelangelo plodded along with Donatello. "Or…?"

"Or, they could be remote activated, which means that these two little devices would be sending and receiving a signal from the point of origin." He put the two little devices under a magnifying glass, and took out a small screwdriver.

"Which means…?" Michelangelo urged.

"It means that if I can calibrate my scanner to pick up the signal from the origin, we'll be able to find whoever did this."
Leonardo joined in. "I get the feeling that she's not the only one under these…torcher devices. Maybe they're a way to control people. I'd sure like to find out whoever made these and stop them."

Splinter overheard what Leonardo had said, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "My son, only after observation and analysis, when the proof is on the table, may you move on to conclusions."

Michelangelo furrowed his eyebrows again. "What?"

Donatello spoke up without looking away from his work. "He means Leonardo is jumping to conclusions."

Leonardo's face grew puzzled. "What are you saying, sensei? That we shouldn't go looking for the person that made these… things?"

Splinter turned. "A wise ninja does not go seeking an enemy he does not fully understand."

Leonardo bowed his head in submission. "Yes sensei."

"Yo, guys! She's wakin' up!" Raphael called from the couch. The others walked over.

The girl's eyes were open. She looked around quizzically, and then frowned. The turtles, cautious about coming into full view all at once—having had this experience before with their friend April—hung back behind the couch, as they didn't want this girl fainting just yet. The girl sat up with a grimace. The look on her face said 'where am I?' but the girl wasn't talking.

Michelangelo, impatient as ever, spoke up first. "Hi!" He said enthusiastically.

This got the girl's attention. She swiveled around swiftly and nearly fell off the couch. "Ahhh!" She cried.

"Nice goin', shell for brains." Raphael muttered to Michelangelo.

The girl stood up from the couch. She wasn't tall. Most humans seemed to be a whole head or taller than the turtles. This girl stood to be slightly taller, but by a half an inch at the most. She looked around wildly, as if looking for an escape route.

Leonardo held up his hands in an attempt to appear less threatening. "It's ok. We're not going to hurt you."

This helped a little. In fact, her frightened look was replaced by a look of recognition. She spoke for the first time. "I know you…" It wasn't exactly a statement. It had a bit of a question to it, but it meant at least she wasn't afraid of them.

"Hey, she talks!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

Suddenly, the girl's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell into the coffee table.

"Man Mikey, where's your 'off' switch?" Leonardo asked as he ran to the girl. The other's followed.

Splinter put his hand on her forehead. He shook his head. "She is very weak. This is not fainting from surprise, but from exhaustion."

Donatello looked at him quizzically. "Exhaustion?"

"Do you think it was the devices?" Leonardo asked him.

"I'm not sure, but I definitely plan on finding out!"