Chapter 2: Yes, There Were More

True to their word, Donatello and the others stopped by April's apartment the next night. Michelangelo and Raphael munched on pizza while Donatello slipped over to see Ardyn.

Without him knowing, Leo left to watch from Ardyn's window. He still knew something was off about her, and the idea of leaving his brother alone with her made him uneasy. He didn't really think Donnie couldn't handle himself, per se, but if Donnie had his guard down there was no telling what could happen. It was better to be safe than sorry, so Leo settled into his spot with his head near the cracked window.

A knock sounded through the small studio. Ardyn walked around the dividing screen into the small living room, adjusting the soft flannel around herself. Once she locked eyes with her expected visitor, she crossed the space and pushed open the window to the fire escape, letting Donatello in.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, though Ardyn knew that was the least pressing question he had for her.

"Fine," she responded. "A little sore, but I'll live."

"You're not wearing a bandage," he noted, reaching for her shoulder but stopping before he touched her. He knew better.

Ardyn sighed and pushed the flannel down from her shoulder. The wound was damn near invisible, one of the perks of that godawful curse. She healed quickly, which was nice when living alone, but raised an awful lot of questions when not secluded.

Donatello's mouth hung agape. He grabbed her arm gently and pulled his goggles down to examine the fading scar.

"How...?"

"It's all a long and tragic backstory," she sighed sarcastically.

He didn't cease his examination, "I'm sure it's fascinating."

Ardyn patted his arm and he stepped back, returning his goggles to the top of his head. "Have a seat, Donatello. Tea?"

He nodded eagerly, "If it's not to much trouble."

Ardyn walked into the kitchen, gesturing to the stool on the front side of the small island. She reached for the kettle and clicked on the electric stove. The sound of the faucet filled the apartment as she filled the kettle. Donatello did his best to be patient.

"How do you know Eric Sacks?" she asked.

Donatello tilted his head at the question. "Sacks? Why?"

"It's important."

He folded his hands on the countertop, "Sacks's company created a mutagen. The four of us and our Sensei were test subjects."

"He was trying to make more mutants?"

"No, he was trying to make an antidote for the reaction to a toxic chemical Shredder was going to release over the city."

"Naturally," Ardyn replied grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. "How did he know Shredder was planning a controlled outbreak?"

"Shredder raised Sacks," Donatello answered. "Sacks was going to sell the antidote to make an unimaginable amount of money."

The kettle whistled, and Ardyn turned to it.

"What do you mean 'more'?" he asked.

Ardyn turned off the stove and poured the water in the mugs. "I mean 'more'. As in 'there were others'."

Donatello gave her an odd look as she set the steaming water before him and opened a box of different teas on the island. She selected one and ripped the package, steeping it calmly.

"Others?" he prompted.

She nodded. He grabbed a random tea bag.

"How long ago were you mutated?" she asked.

"A little over twenty-two years," he answered. "Sacks didn't know what the mutagen could do until two years ago. We weren't in his lab when the affects started to physically represent themselves."

Ardyn nodded. "Sacks was a busy guy."

"How so?"

"About the same time, maybe a little before, he was working with my father, Darren Rheys. Only, he wasn't looking for an antidote," she began.

"What as he trying to create?"

Ardyn took a sip of tea, "He was trying to engineer soldiers. Ones that only existed in stories and movies. My father had lost his first wife to childbirth, and the aftermath made him a little crazy. He studied folklore and genetics, and eventually tried to mix the two."

Donatello steeped the tea bag, "Folklore?"

Ardyn nodded. "He married my mother shortly after his first wife's death. I guess it was nice to have someone take care of the kid he didn't have time to get to know. Anyway, somehow they had two kids. Twins. Dad never got involved, but his daughter swears up and down he loved all three of us more than we'd ever understand."

"You have siblings?" Donatello asked. "Do they display the same physical abilities?"

Ardyn nodded, playing with the string on her tea bag. "When my brother and I were three, Dad's oldest was six, mom brought us into the lab. I don't remember much of what was said, but I vividly remember the worst parts."

"What happened?"

"An injection," Ardyn touched the back of her neck. "Right into the neck. Felt like it set all of my nerves on fire. All three of us got one. Sacks walked in and started yelling. Next thing I knew, mom was on the floor, and Dad's oldest was setting everything on fire... including him."

Donatello stopped steeping the teabag. "What?"

Ardyn gave a bitter laugh, "The injection he gave us was what he had been working on. His oldest took to it quick, I guess. She ran around burning things while dad yelled. Then she turned on him."

"She developed pyrokinesis?" he gaped. "That's not possible."

"I wouldn't have believed it either," Ardyn agreed. "Except that I can do this."

Donatello watched the color drain from her fingers. Frost fell like smoke from them, the chill brushing his fingers.

"Cryokinesis," he gasped. "Incredible."

Ardyn scoffed. "My ass. What good is this? It only puts a target on my back."

"What happened to your siblings?"

Ardyn gripped her cup again. "Dad's oldest took off when my brother and I were twelve."

"She left you?"

"I didn't want her around. She was crazy like dad. Saw things, had night terrors even. I felt bad for her, but..."

"But she scared you," Donatello finished.

Ardyn looked up at his quizzical gaze. "Yeah. She... she didn't lead a good life. I didn't want anything to do with her, and I sure as hell didn't want her influencing my brother. He was... softer. Sweeter. Too good for the world, he didn't deserve the hand we were dealt. She would ruin him." Ardyn scoffed again, "She did ruin him."

"How so?"

Ardyn made eye contact again, her own becoming glossy despite the bitter bite in her tone. "He didn't take to the mutagen the way we did. He healed a little faster, no more athsma or colds. But he never got a... well, ability."

"Nothing at all?"

"Well, he was really good with plants, but I doubt it was a mutagen thing," she remarked. "Anyway, he started hanging around the oldest when he was in high school. I didn't keep quiet about how I felt on the subject."

"Naturally," Donatello interjected, "if you felt as strongly as I'd guess."

"It caused a rift," Ardyn looked back down at her tea, which had ceased to steam. "That only pushed the two of them closer together."

"You didn't want them to be close?"

"No," she answered. "Ha- she's not... good. My brother was going to make a life for himself. He was going to be somebody... somebody that could leave his childhood behind and be happy. He had a chance at being normal."

Donatello didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue.

"She got him killed," Ardyn tapped her fingernails against the cold mug. "Before he could get into culinary school in Paris, before he could take a tour of Europe, or get married or have a bunch of kids. She dragged him into a situation that he was never meant to face."

Glossy streaks ran alongside the bridge of her nose, curving around the frown of her mouth and dropping from her chin. They made crystalline patterns on the counter below her, melting in a matter of seconds.

She wiped her face, "She was at his cremation. I couldn't even look at her. After it was over, I took his ashes to Paris. He's somewhere along the banks of the Seine now. I stayed two years because I couldn't let him go."

Donatello pulled a napkin from the holder and offered it to her.

Ardyn looked embarrassed as she took it, wiping her face, "Sorry, you didn't come here to hear that."

"True, but I didn't mind," he offered. "You seem like you could use a friend."

Ardyn crumpled up the napkin, face dry. "I appreciate the offer, and you lending an ear, but I can't stay here like I thought."

"Why?"

"If any remnant of Sacks' people are here, this is the last place I want to be. I can't risk being found like that again."

"You think you'll be safer alone than you will with us?" Donatello tilted his head.

"I'll be safe when I'm far away from here," she answered. "My dad's involvement with them tore my family apart. They've brought me nothing but misery and a life of looking over my shoulder." She shook her head. "They took everything from me."

Donatello put a hand over her small one, ceasing the fog that was beginning to roll off of it, "There is strength in numbers. We can take them down once and for all."

Ardyn didn't seem convinced, pulling her brows low as she glanced at him.

"It's possible that, if you help us defeat them, you'd never have to be afraid again," he reasoned. "You wouldn't have to be on-the-run anymore. Wouldn't that be worth it?"

Ardyn's eyes glanced at a shadow outside before returning to Donatello's gaze.

"I don't know, Donatello..."

"Donnie," he said.

She stopped.

"Call me Donnie," he repeated.

"Donnie," she amended. "I'm not a fighter. I just want to have a quiet little life. I want to read and paint and drink tea in front of a fireplace and maybe have a pet cat. I don't want to live a life where I have to hurt people."

"I'm not asking you to fight," Donnie assured.

"You aren't?"

He pulled his hand back, "No, not if you don't want to. You can help in other ways."

"How?"

He shrugged, "I'm not sure yet, but I know Leo would know."

Ardyn scoffed. "Leo doesn't trust me as far as he could throw me."

"True," Donnie agreed. "But that'll change."

"If you say so."

...

Donnie left through the fire escape, feeling pretty good about himself. Gaining an ally was a huge success, especially one that could walk in daylight. Leo would come around eventually. Donnie had a sneaking suspicion about his brother and Ardyn. They were bound to get along eventually.

If Leo would ever loosen up enough to get to know her.

Leo lingered at the window a moment after Donnie left. He pondered all that Ardyn had said. It didn't sound like she was lying, the pain he saw looked genuine. But he still had his reservations. Ardyn could worm her way into Donnie's good graces with tears all she wanted, but Leo wasn't going to be a pushover. No, if she was going to be part of the team, like Donnie had suggested, she was going to have to prove herself.

You mean like taking a bullet for someone?

The little voice in the back of his mind played the devil's advocate, sounding strangely like April. He shook his head, April might know Ardyn's not bulletproof, but he knew she wasn't as fragile as April believed.

"Leonardo?"

He jerked sideways. Ardyn opened the window enough to lean out. He must have been too involved in his inner monologue to notice her walking over. He cursed himself for being so careless as to be caught.

"What are you doing here?" she looked around, probably for the others.

He searched his brain for an excuse just a second longer than he should've.

Her peaked brow lowered, "You were spying on me and Donnie... weren't you?"

Leonardo would've reddened if he could.

"You still don't trust me," Ardyn continued.

"No, I don't," he replied.

"That's fine, I don't trust you either," she answered.

"Nothing personal," he assured.

Ardyn rolled her eyes, "Of course it is, it's not a business decision. You have personal reasons to not trust everyone right away, I get it. I personally don't trust you either."

Leonardo looked a little taken aback, "Okay."

"But I do trust Donnie," she added. "More than I thought at first."

"And it seems like he trusts you more than I thought at first," Leonardo added.

Ardyn nodded. "And we won't get anywhere if no one bends."

Leonardo raised a brow.

She pushed the window aside and stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside.

He eyed her for a moment.

"I don't bite," she assured. "I promise."

"It's not your bite that worries me," he replied.

"No?"

"It's the .45 under your bed."

Ardyn laughed, "Your swords aren't comforting on my end either."

Leonardo considered her offer a moment longer. She had weapons all over the apartment, and it's size wasn't all that much of a hindrance should she decide she needed one. But he was fast, too. And there were few places on his body where bullets would do any harm.

He bent.

Ardyn watched as he stepped through the window, carefully, barely making any noise.

"Was that so hard?" she remarked, crossing her arms.

"It's not over yet," he returned.

Despite her better judgement, she let out a laugh.

Leonardo tensed until he realized what the sound was. It relaxed him a little.

"Dry, but I like it," she said to no one in particular. "And it's a 9mm, not a .45."

"Like I would know."

He looked around the small apartment. It was different now that she was in it. It looked the same, sure, but now it felt a little less foreign. He found himself looking at the bookcase. Ardyn had a lot of classic literature, aside from the French titles. A few cookbooks, and some records. He pulled a random book from the shelf as Ardyn sat on the small couch, watching him.

"Le fantome de l'Opera," she recited, her accent nearly perfect. "I have a copy in English if you'd like to read it."

Leonardo turned.

"It's a good one if you like investigative genres," she elaborated. "There's a little romance for the soft-hearted, too."

"Is that what you are?" he asked. "Soft-hearted?"

Ardyn shrugged, "When I can afford it."

Leonardo turned back to the shelf, replacing the book. "You like reading, I'm guessing."

Ardyn let out another laugh, "Au contraire, ma chere tortue."

She was beside him, looking up at the books, "Reading is what I contribute the bulk of my sanity."

"Is that how you learned to speak French?" he asked, looking down to her.

She shook her head, "No, I didn't learn it until I moved there. Distant family. A cousin of mine taught me the language and to play the piano. I taught him to play the guitar, and, between you and me, how to shoot."

"You play?"

Ardyn nodded, "The... my mother's side of the family is very artistic. I play the guitar and the piano, and sing a little. My real passion is art, especially painting. My brother had the voice of an angel, and wasn't a bad dancer, but his real passion was food."

"What about your oldest sister?"

Ardyn's fond smile dropped, "I never took the time to know. Besides, she had a different mother."

"I heard you two had differing opinions," Leonardo crossed his arms and looked back to the bookcase.

Ardyn scoffed lightly, "She's a hotheaded psychopath who's lifestyle is going to get her killed."

Leonardo heard her flop on the couch.

"Why did you come to New York?"

Ardyn looked back up at him as he turned around, "My visa expired."

He cracked a small smile at her quick-witted answer, "No, I mean, why New York, specifically?"

Ardyn shrugged, "It seemed like a good place to disappear. It was either here or L.A., but, to be honest, I'm not crazy about SoCal."

Leonardo let out a laugh before he could stop himself.

Ardyn's expression warmed.

"What do you do to afford it?" he asked.

"You know, I think it's my turn to ask a question," she joked.

Leonardo sat in the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees, "Alright."

"How did you learn to fight like you do?"

Leonardo's expression became fond, "My father taught us."

"How old were you?"

"Young," he answered. "Master Splinter wanted us to be able to protect ourselves."

"I can imagine."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a semi-well-known artist, and a not-well-known songwriter," she answered.

"Painting?"

She nodded, then lifted her chin in the direction of the wall behind him, "Those are a few of mine."

He turned his head in the direction she motioned to. The wall of canvases he'd briefly glanced at the night before when he and Raph had checked for intruders. He stood and walked over to them. Cool blue landscapes, vibrant sunrises, and cityscapes to name a few. One larger piece sat on a shelf beside a few tea candles. It was rays of sun peaking through clouds, shining over Paris. A small silhouette sat in the clouds, peering down upon the city.

"Au paradis, on se revoit," Ardyn said.

He turned to look at her. She was leaning her chin on her arms, crossed over the couch's back.

"In Heaven, we meet again," she translated. "It was for my brother."

"You really miss him," was all Leonardo could think to say.

"Mhm," she hummed. "He was my twin. Fraternal, but we sure looked identical for a while."

"A while?"

"Once puberty set in, we became easier to tell apart," she smirked.

A small laugh escaped him again.

"Are the four of you genetically related?"

Leonardo turned back to her, "Does it matter either way?"

Ardyn shrugged, "I guess not. Blood doesn't determine who you love any more than gender or race would, or, in your case, species."

Leonardo smiled, "Exactly."

"It's your turn to ask something," Ardyn reminded him.

Leonardo thought for a moment.

"Are you actually a good singer, or did you just make that up?"

Ardyn smiled widely, and Leonardo couldn't help but return it.

"You were paying attention," she laughed.

"I told you."

"I'm alright at it," she admitted. "I can carry a tune. You?"

"Not really in my repertoire," he answered.

Ardyn laughed, "So you do know some French."

Leonardo returned to the chair, giving a shrug as he sat, "Barely any, I know more Japanese."

"I could teach you, if you wanted," Ardyn offered. "If you teach me Japanese."

"Really?"

She shrugged, still smiling, "If you'd like. I miss speaking it sometimes."

"So speak it."

She laughed, "Okay, I miss having a conversation in French. With someone else. Who also speaks French."

He laughed this time, "Okay, fair enough."

Ardyn glanced at the window, "Oh, you better get going if you don't want to get caught in the daylight."

Leonardo glanced out the window. The first rays of light were peaking on the horizon. He stood, "Good idea."

She walked him to the window, pressing a book into his hand.

"What's this?"

"Le fantome de l'Opera," she answered. "Your first lesson, young grasshopper."

He laughed, "It's in English."

"Duh, wouldn't do you much good if it wasn't," she laughed. "But you'll get an idea of a few things. We'll work our way up to the French copy."

"Alright, fair enough," he nodded, stepping through the window.

"Au demain, cher etudiant," she called as he hopped to the roof.

"Au revoir," he replied.

...

It was lucky Ardyn wasn't correctly adjusted to New York's time. Paris was six hours ahead, but these nightly visits from her new acquaintances kept her from fixing her sleep schedule to match a regular person's. Just after sundown, a very eager Donnie would show up at her window with more questions and theories. Ardyn certainly didn't mind. Donnie's genius was refreshing. All the reading Ardyn had been doing was collecting dust in her mind until he came along. Who else would she discuss tech with? Her laptop had become a saving grace on lonely nights in motels when she was traveling. Not to mention her mechanical skills to prevent dependency when driving across the country.

Less lucky was the fact that Donnie's end of the conversation seemed to weasel its way back to her mysterious genetic alteration. She could offer very little on the subject, and flat refused to participate in any more tests.

Once Donnie took off, usually around midnight or so, Leonardo would drop in.

Ardyn tucked her hair behind her ear as he slipped through the window. She wore a polite smile as a greeting, tucking her hands into the pockets of a zippered sweatshirt. "I see you brought the book back."

Leonardo looked from her to the well-worn pages tucked into the belt at his hip. He pulled it free and handed it to her, "Yeah, I had a quiet day, for once."

She received it and turned to place it on her shelf, "I can't imagine it's common with Mikey around."

Leonardo gave an almost-laugh, a breath of air through his nose. "That's for sure."

She slipped the book into its place then turned to face him, but his eyes weren't on her. She followed his gaze to the piano in the corner.

"What?"

His eyes fell back on her, "It's a beautiful piano."

"Thanks," Ardyn smiled at it, walking to sit on the couch. "It was a bitch to get up the stairs, though."

"For a human, I guess it would be," he remarked.

Ardyn eyed him for a moment. His lips were resisting the urge to turn up on the sides. He was making a joke.

A breathy hum of a laugh came from her. It started as air through her nose, but as she smiled wider, a bubbly laugh formed. Leonardo turned his eyes on her, trying not to look as proud as he felt.

"Not all of us have the advantage of an extra two hundred pounds of muscle, Leader Boy," she hiccuped out between laughs. "Some of us still need a butter knife and a dish towel to open a jar."

He gave her a look of amusement as she walked over to the piano and sat down on the bench. Her fingers began to dance over the keys, the notes filling the small apartment. Leonardo walked over to stand behind her, watching her hands.

"Some of us have more mundane abilities," she continued. "Less aggressive abilities."

Leonardo smiled, felling the notes relax him. "What is that?"

"Pachelbel Canon in D," she answered. "Soothing, isn't it?"

"Very."

"You should hear it when it rains," she closed her eyes, continuing to play. "It's my favorite to play during a storm."

"You play music when it rains?"

She stopped, turning to him, "Well, what do you do?"

He leaned against the back of the chair, "Nothing as beautiful as that."

Ardyn turned around to hide the burning of her cheeks, resting her fingers over the keys again. She tried to concentrate on playing. Maybe the sound of the piano would drown out the obnoxious heartbeat that filled her red-tipped ears.

A different tune began playing, and her humming was barely audible. She gathered herself, "If you'd like to borrow another book, you're welcome to anything on the shelf."

His eyes snapped to the back of her head from where they had drifted. Shaking his head to clear the daze, he turned and walked over to the bookshelf. She was still playing as he eyed the spines, but she was singing softly instead of humming. His ears strained once he noticed it, and he was almost leaning toward the piano to hear her better.

"I heard... church bells ring.

I heard... a choir singing.

I saw my love... walk down the aisle.

On her finger, he placed a ring."

Leonardo wasn't even paying attention to the books anymore, his head fully turned to watch her.

"I saw them holding hands.

She was standing there with my man.

I heard them promise, 'til death do us part.

Each word was a pain in my heart."

It was soft, both in volume and tone. The words fell from her lips like feathery down, entrancing Leonardo. He'd never heard anything so beautiful, not even the sound of his beloved katanas whistling through the air were as perfect. Mikey's rapping was the closest he'd ever gotten to live music, but this was obviously an entirely different level. He was entranced, forgetting his task entirely to soak in the sound of her voice and the music she was playing.

She stopped singing, "Have you picked one?"

His head snapped around and he grabbed the first book he saw, "Yes."

She didn't stop playing, "Which one?"

He looked at the cover, "Sherlock Holmes." I've heard of this one, he thought to himself.

"Which one?" she asked, her tone changed.

"What?"

"Which one?" she repeated. "There's a few of them."

He looked back to the shelf. There were, indeed, a few. His eyes darted back to the cover, "The Hound of the Baskervilles."

"A personal favorite of mine," she nodded in approval, though her back was to him. "Maybe when you've finished it, you'd like to see the movie?"

Composure, damnit. "They made a movie?" he walked back over to lean against the chair's back again.

She hummed her answer. "It's really good. Very few artistic liberties were taken."

"It sounds like you approve," he smirked.

Her hands fell from the keys and she turned to face him, "Its one of my favorites."

"Then I'll have to see it," he nodded, still smiling.

He didn't miss the redness of her cheeks.

"I'd better get going," he looked at the clock.

She looked as well, standing.

"Thank you for the book," he looked to her. "And the music lesson."

She smiled, "Any time."

She walked him to the window, standing quietly as he fit himself through.

"Bonne nuit, Leonardo," she said, leaning through the window.

"Goodnight, Ardyn," he returned, giving her a soft smile.

She flushed again, tucking her hair behind her ear. She closed down the window, leaving it cracked to let in the cool night air as he turned to go. Her bare feet padded over to the piano again, and she sat.

Leonardo didn't leave right away, leaning back toward the window to hear her play. Her voice was unrestricted now, the feathery tunes floating to his ears.

"Sittin' in the mornin' sun,

I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes.

Watchin' the ships roll in,

Just to watch 'em roll away again..."

...

Leonardo laid on his bed, reading the book he'd borrowed but not absorbing it. Her voice rang through his mind. That melody she sang was stuck on repeat, not that he minded. It was the most beautiful thing that ever graced his ears. He found himself wishing she hadn't been so quiet, so he could hear her sing for him for real.

He shook his head of the thought. That was ridiculous. He'd known her less than a week. She wasn't cleared from being a threat yet. Someone with a past like hers couldn't be as soft and innocent as she acted. For god's sake, his first impression of her was pointing a gun at Raphael. There was a fire in her, no matter how deeply concealed it was. That was the part he needed to focus on.

Despite his better judgement, he still dreamed of her.

She wore a blue silk gown and laid over the top of a grand piano, like he'd seen in movies. Her velvet voice filled the air, the words coming from her mouth like sweet nothings that set his soul ablaze. The piano played beneath her, never missing a note. Her gown clung to her form, shining in the single spotlight. There was nothing around them. Everything outside of the cold light was blackness. She was singing only for him now, there was no one else in the entire world.

She held the purest note to ever grace his ears as she rolled over. Her icy eyes bore into his.

He woke in a cold sweat, the loaned book falling to the floor.