Only two more chapters after this… only two more chapters. If everything goes as planned that is. I don't see why it wouldn't.

So I'm trying something new with this chapter; I'm occasionally inserting a 3rd Person view of things here and there that is not Irma's perspective. I think it's worked out fairly well myself. Hopefully you all think so too.

I cannot believe I have made it this far, I really can't. Usually by now I'd have lost interest and just moved on to something else. I want to thank each and every reviewer for the encouragement and the staunch support, having read this far and still staying with me. Thank you all so, so much.

Especially thanks to my wonderful beta readers, you fantastic people you! I adore you both so very, very much and I don't know what I'd do without you! XOXO

And now, without further ado, the next chapter.

I don't own TMNT or any affiliated characters.

Chapter Twenty Three

Everything changed in the few weeks after the beating I had been given. Something changed inside me, although I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. After some examination in the years after, I've settled on it most likely being a survival instinct keeping me aware and somewhat full of adrenalin. I was verge glad that I didn't have a mirror to look at myself after the pummeling I had received at the hands of Ken's hired goons, because probably I would have been horrified. I had no way of knowing how long I had been in there for certain, but I collected bits of information from the two guards and various others I saw roaming the halls as I was led from room to room. It had been about two months since my imprisonment and forced labor. I was not happy about that.

Ken hadn't had me moved to a smaller, more miserable room like he had threatened to before. I had a sneaking suspicion that he pretty much wanted me gone, but because I'd be dead soon he wasn't going to deprive me of whatever comforts I had. I was strangely thankful for this.

When everything started going to hell, the Box was almost opened. I had been working almost non-stop on it for the entirety of my time there, except for the few days they had let me off due to physical injuries after beatings. I knew that any day now I would break through and see what was inside because I could feel the hum of power growing stronger. Whenever my fingers touched the metal, it sang through my bones, up my arms and neck so that the fine hairs at the back of my scalp stood straight up. It was terrifying and wonderful both at once, and despite my strong desire to keep whatever was in there away from Ken, it was almost matched by an equal desire to fling the thing open to see what was inside myself. I was unsure if this was part of the magic of the Box or my own curiosity, but either way, it was strong. Something else that worried me was the question of what I would do once it was open. Whatever was in there may not have necessarily been terrifying on its own, but it was the potential damage that Ken could do with it that was. I had no idea what it was, and almost didn't want to. My mind kept flashing back to the peach story, and I considered what I would do if in fact that's what it was.

Perhaps I could squish it, I thought to myself. But then I tossed that idea to the side when I realized that even as a mess on the ground, it was most likely still going to be magic, or divine, or whatever it was. You could still make a smoothie with a squished peach, although that seemed somewhat degrading to a magic fruit. Oh, like the fruit cares, Sensible Irma scoffed.

It's better to consider these things now that wait for it to happen and find out you've been cursed with Athlete's Foot for eternity, I argued back.

Sensible Irma rolled her eyes at me and then went on to ignore all my thoughts from that point on while Ridiculous Irma and myself went on to plot all of the possible scenarios that could happen, including, but not limited to, the likelihood of a zombie outbreak.

My planning paid off (somewhat) some days later. Give or take. Time ran strangely in a place with no windows or discernible exit to the outside. Honestly, if I hadn't been left alone, I wouldn't have noticed anything wrong.

But that's confusing to just say that. I should explain from the beginning just what went down that last crucial day.

It began like all the others. I woke up, got dressed, and a few minutes later, the doors to my room opened and I was led out, down the halls to my work area. I had started waking up naturally before they came for me. Every day when I opened my eyes I waited with a sense of dread for the sound of the hinges squeaking on the door and the feeling of the two hands grabbing at me. Today was no different. I had memorized the way to the Box Room, counted the number of doors, people walking into rooms, and heard snatches of conversation. I had managed to piece together where exactly my area was in the compound; it was in the east wing, with the middle being the living quarters and the east wing probably having the garage or hanger or whatever it was that allowed people access. It was weird; they were cautious about me being able to walk around freely on my own, but they didn't bother stopping their chats as I walked past. Obviously they didn't feel I was a big enough threat to do something that could hurt them. I didn't think I was a big enough threat to do something that could hurt them.

Things continued on as they had normally before. The box was nearly opened and I was resigned to my inevitable fate with a dull lump in my stomach as I continued to work on the panels that would open to reveal the ultimate puzzle box prize inside. I didn't pay much attention to how far I was going after a while. I was going to die as soon as Ken had whatever was in there, and it was better off to not bother worrying about it. So I didn't. Not until I heard an alarm go off somewhere in the building.

I had been bent over the box, concentrating on what I was doing when I and my two guards heard the distant sounds of an alarm going off. I looked up at them with a look of curiosity. One of them shrugged. The other just motioned at me to get back to work, and I did. But the alarms didn't go off, and then suddenly they were even louder, closer. The two guards frowned at each other this time, silently communicating. One of them walked over to me, and I instinctively shrunk down in my chair, remembering the beating they had given me before. "Don't move," he growled at me, and I nodded, hoping my expression conveyed enough fear to satisfy him. It must have, though, because he gave a grunt and walked towards the door, his companion following him. The other turned to look at me and warningly ran his finger across his neck. I got the message.

They both left and I was alone in the room. For a few minutes I went back to work on the Box. But then after a while I stopped and sat back, truly looking at the object in front of me for the first time in many days.

The craftsmanship of it was undisputedly beautiful. It was a masterpiece of cunning ingenuity and artistic loveliness, a hybrid of two forms of logic and creativity to form a truly baffling device.

So many panels had been removed already , sliding back to other sides so that it looked as though it was held together solely by magnets in the metal itself. I wouldn't have been surprised. The sparks of magic that ran up and down my arms no longer bothered me; I was too used to it by now, and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, I couldn't be sure. I wasn't really sure of a lot of things, like what was going on and when my guards would be back and even if they did, what would it matter?

But the alarms kept going and no one came back. I waited and waited for it to stop, for Ken or the Gorilla guards or even someone else to come in, order me to get back to work, but no one did. And suddenly, I felt for the first time in a while something like the stirrings of hope. If no one came back when I opened the Box (and I was much closer to being done than I had let on that whole time), and I had time to leave, and could just get to the bathroom, and… and… Of course, that was assuming I could flush whatever was in there. It was the only location I knew for sure how to get to other than my cell and the room I was currently in. I was debating with myself whether or not the plot forming in my head was a good one or a bad one, when suddenly an explosion went off.

It was nowhere near where I was; I would have heard it much clearer had it been. I began an inner debate with myself; if I left now after opening the box and taking whatever was inside, there was a good chance that someone would catch me, and the beating I got from attacking Ken would be absolutely nothing in comparison to what I would receive after that. BUT… on the other hand, if I didn't take this opportunity now, there was a good chance I would never get one again.

I turned my gaze back to the box. There was only one fate for me- death. No matter what I chose, I was going to die. "Oh, what the hell," I said to myself. "I might as well die trying to be a hero. Got nothing else going for me." And with that, I set to work on it.

The explosions went off flawlessly. Although there had been a six percent chance of some malfunction, nothing of the sort had happened. He had honestly been more worried about being detected as they flew into the base. It was cleverly concealed; the bastard was smart, he'd give the creep that much. The layout though was somewhat simplistic. The rooms with something to hide inside were filled with more security and those that weren't had simple doors. It only took a few beatings to figure out where the security room was. The one he'd gotten his hands on and took his anger out on hadn't known anything about Irma. He was lucky he was still alive. Leonardo had stopped him.

The next one wouldn't be so lucky.

Right slide, left turn, down slide, Dear Lord, this is so boring… How have I gotten through this long without going out of my mind?

I sighed and let my head fall onto the desk briefly before pulling myself back to my work. I was going to get this damned thing open or I was going to die in the attempt. Come to think of it, I'd probably die afterwards too. But I was so close, so close to the end. I could feel the vibrations getting, well, louder, if that were possible. It was something a person would have to feel in order to understand exactly what it was, but the pulsing was harder, stronger, surging through my fingers and up my arms. Had it not become so familiar too me, it would have been exceedingly unnerving.

Everything else in the world was zoned out. All there was in my universe was focus and my one goal. I had only so much time. I had to make the most of it. Time lost all meaning. In the back of my mind, I knew it had been some time since I began; not too long, but about twenty minutes. They hadn't come back yet. Maybe they never would. That cheered me up slightly.

To tell the truth, I lost all track of time as I pulled and tugged at those stupid puzzle pieces. It could have taken me hours, seconds, minutes, I wouldn't have noticed. Nothing mattered except to get it open and to get the treasure within out.

Twelve panels, ten panels, six panels, three panels and then…

They found the security room (or one of them) after cracking a few skulls. He quickly tapped a few keys and within seconds all the records of the last two months appeared. Most of them looked like they could be ignored. Lounge, cafeteria, hallways, Guest X.

What kind of idiots would label something Guest X? Double click, and hours of footage appeared on screen. He clicked the first one. It was a door, metal, with no one outside, but through the speakers came the scratchy voice of someone screaming through the door, banging on it with fists and eventually dissolving into soft weeping.

"Irma," he whispered.

Nothing could have prepared me for opening that box. I had expected something terrifying, something horrible, something I need to destroy…

But there, sitting quietly like it didn't want to be noticed, was a small, plain wooden box. I reached out with trembling fingers and opened up the lid.

Sitting in the smaller case between velvet cushions that had somehow withstood time, was the most perfect, beautiful peach in the world that had ever and would ever exist. The colors were perfect, and it looked as though it was glowing with a bright, cheerful light. Its scent filled the room, but rather than a smell of peaches, it smelled of everything I loved with just a faint hint of the fruit in the background. It smelled of autumn leaves, fresh baked brownies, the smell of birthday cake full of candles right before they set it down in front of you (April and Casey had thrown some for me when I became friends with them)the fresh smell wind brings with it as it travels…

Before I knew it I had the peach in my hands and I had my nose to it, the soft fuzz tickling my hands and the bright colors almost burning through my eyelids which I had closed to enjoy the scent even more. It was so perfect, so good. I opened my mouth to bite into the sweet, delicious, magical flesh of the peach, its magic calling to me softly like a good friend laughing quietly.

I had my teeth pressed against the skin, prepared to take a bite, but then a door slammed open somewhere and I spun around to stare at the door with horror. My heart stopped beating and I could only imagine what would happen if they ran through that door and saw me with the fruit. But no one did. I waited for a few seconds and heard footsteps running in a different direction and a huge sigh of relief rushed through me. I turned back to the peach in my hands and realized with a jolt that had I taken a bite, there was a good change I would have been changed in some way. Maybe immortal, maybe not, but either way, I would have been different. My previously rapturous expression turned to a frown as I considered whether or not I even wanted to change. Sure, I wasn't perfect or anything, but-

Shouts from somewhere down the hall. Now was not the time for a mental debate. I quickly stood up and hid the peach in the jacket pocket that I had taken to wearing during my time in the compound. It was large and baggy with deep pockets that could hide just about anything. It was reversible too, which I was exceedingly thankful for as I turned my jacket inside out. I would have probably been recognized had I worn the red and white side like I usually did, but when I reversed it, it was black. I pulled my sleeves up and took my hair down. It felt strange; I had taken to pulling my bangs back so often that I hated to go without doing it now, just like I had done with buns. I briefly smiled and then took a deep breath, sobering myself. The trick is, I told myself, to act like you belong here. Get a swagger or something , make yourself less noticeable by pretending like you've been here all along and haven't been noticed.

How hard could it be?

…

I was going to die.

There was so much of her, so many clips and videos. It hurt to watch them, to see her being drug around and looking listless and empty. The only expressions she wore were fear and bland disinterest in everything. Was this what they had done to her? Where was the fire, the emotion, the laughter and constant joking? She was just a shell, and it was his fault. Fingers tightened around the arms of his chair as he clicked on a video to see the bastard walking around her as she worked at that awful little table and whisper something in her ear. She jumped up and rushed at him, screaming in fury, her nails going for the man's eyes, shouting how the man was nothing compared to him, how he was so much more than her captor could ever be.

And then she was thrown away and they came at her and she was holding her hands up to huge fists aimed at her stomach and face-

He stood up abruptly and smashed his weapon into the screen over and over, filled with hate and rage and a deep, strong undercurrent of pain for her.

"Hey!" One of his brothers shouted at him from the hallway. "You know where she is?"

"Yes," he replied grimly, and left the room with a promise to himself that it would be his hands around Shinobu's neck that would kill the man.

I had no earthly clue where I was supposed to go. I had a vague idea of where things were, but I couldn't be certain. And unfortunately, I was now walking around willy-nilly in a place where it was certain that everyone in it would be hostile towards me. I wasn't counting on the people attacking to help me; knowing Ken, it was just some rival gang coming to take him out, and at best, they'd ignore me. At worst… well, there was no point in thinking about it.

Everyone was rushing around, at least the few people I saw in the halls. It looked as though anyone who had any sort of skill with fighting was gone. The people going from room to room all looked like simple staff members, and none of them were particularly threatening. Most of them were babbling incoherently about intruders wearing green, but I didn't really register any of that. I did my best to go from hallway to hallway being sneaky and going unseen. This went well for a while until-

"Hey! You!"

I spun around and felt my heart stop beating. One of the huge men who had guarded me was standing there at the other end of the hallway, a furious expression on his face. He lifted his two gigantic fists and cracked his knuckles while looking at me. That was all I needed to see, and I spun around and ran as fast as I could. I could hear him coming after me, his feet pounding on the floor loudly. I couldn't pay much attention to anything except the survival instinct that had kicked in strongly, and I raced away as fast as I could, my heart pounding as though it was going to explode out of my chest. I glanced back once to see a truly cold look in the man's eyes and a cruel smirk on his lips. I knew he'd kill me once he got the chance. Whether or not he knew I had opened the box was uncertain, and I didn't care to ask either. Instead I put on an extra burst of speed and ran even faster than before. I could hear him swearing behind me as I rounded a corner and flew down the halls, managing to make another turn before he could see where I went. This was my chance!

Without really thinking about it, I rushed into one of the rooms that I had learned were reserved for things like dinning and relaxing. At least, I had been led to believe that's what they were. And it appeared that I was not mistaken, as I swung into an expansive kitchen that, praise all the heavens above, was mercifully empty. But it wouldn't last. I could practically feel the man coming up behind me. Giving my surroundings a quick once over, I rushed over to the corner where I could see a collection of kitchen knives sitting. Grabbing the largest one I could find, I ducked down behind the counters and crouched there, my knees pulled up to my chest and my breath coming out in tiny pants for fear of being detected.

The door opened. I clutched the handle of the knife so hard my fingers turned white and I almost forgot to breathe from fear. I could hear his footsteps moving around the kitchen and carefully, slowly inched my way over to once side of the counters and quickly peeked around before ducking back. He was looking at a large cabinet against the wall and was walking towards it. Looking towards the door, I wondered if I got closer and ran as fast as I could, if I could make it. My instincts told me no. The door was very heavy and large, and I doubted I could get it open quickly enough to not be grabbed by him.

"I know you're in here, you pathetic little bitch," he called out. "And I gotta tell you, you're wasting your time. There's no way for you to get out of here. Even if I didn't get you, someone else will. Your little friends aren't going to change that". I frowned. Friends? What was he talking about?

"You've been a pain in our ass since you got here," he continued, still slowly pacing the room. "It's too bad you didn't take the boss's offer. You aren't going to get out of here alive now. Especially with this last stunt you've pulled. But I can promise you now, if you come out like a good girl, I'll kill you real quick and without pain. I know how to do that. It's a lot more than I can say for the boss."

Step, step, step. He came closer. I rounded the corner that faced the door now. If I could just get to it, then if he came after me, maybe if I got him with the knife I could make it out. "You don't know what he's really like, honey," the man said softly, and I froze. "He's got a real nasty streak. He likes it when people scream." His voice went lower and I could feel my blood go cold. "He likes it when women scream. I've heard him, you know, with women who got on his bad side. The boss has a way of keeping them alive for hours and hours while he has his fun with them."

I had to fight back the urge to vomit, my hands starting to shake from genuine fear. He was getting closer with every step. I had to decide what I should do.

"Found you," came a voice behind me, and without a thought I leaped up towards the door, my hands stretching towards the handle. I felt a big hand wrap painfully around my ankle and draw me backwards, twisting my foot in such a way that I had to turn around or risk him fracturing a bone. He looked completely bloodthirsty, and I knew without a doubt that I was going to t get beaten to death this time. He raised up a fist and without thinking, I screamed and slashed the blade in my hand across the man's face. He gave a scream of agony and momentarily let me go. I started to pull myself away from him and go towards the door again, but then something heavy came down on my spine and I gave a gasp of pain, all the air knocked out of my lungs. The guy had punched me right on my spine, momentarily stunning me. The knife fell from my hand as my fingers twitched in pain. It was all he needed to flip me over again and wrap his hands around my neck, squeezing hard. Stars started floating around and I clawed at his hands in desperation. It had no effect other than to make him squeeze even harder and my body began to move with pure instinct. I shut my eyes tightly, my fingernails raking along his arms and hands while my legs began to kick at him. I was almost unconscious when suddenly he gave a huge groan of pain and his grip slackened on my throat. I had unintentionally kicked him in the groin. There wasn't much time. I bit his hand hard, and he let me go, swearing. I flipped over once more and grabbed the handle of the knife. I jumped up and just as the guy looked up at me, preparing to stand and kill me, I brought down the knife with all my strength.

The blade went through his neck and I fell back in sudden horror at the action I had taken. The man's voice gurgled for just a moment, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. Terror seized my heart and I stopped breathing once more as he reached out towards me, murder written on his face. And then, suddenly, he fell forward with a sickening crack and the blade was pushed even deeper into his neck. He was dead, and blood was everywhere. I rushed to the sink and began to throw up, tears in my eyes and my entire body shaking.

They ran into the room where he knew she would be, where she had to be. The doors flew open and he was the first in, eyes searching frantically for some sign of her. But she wasn't there. He saw the chair she usually sat at, and he walked towards it, fingertips lightly touching the cold metal of the back. He could almost feel the sorrow radiating from it, and it made his heart clench painfully. Then he looked up at the box. It was empty. A cold feeling made its way through his bones. Possibilities rushed through his mind, but the only ones he could accept- would accept- were that she had completed it and they had taken her somewhere else, or she had opened it and then escaped somehow. Any other conclusion would be unthinkable. He would find her again, and he would bring her home, and she'd be safe and… and…

A gentle hand curled around his shoulder and he turned to see the sympathetic eyes of his brother. "She'll be fine, bro," he said quietly. "We'll find her, I promise." He could make no reply but nodded his head shortly before turning and walking from the room.

In spite of my fear of blood, I didn't faint from the sight of the rapidly pooling blood coming from the corpse of my would-be killer. Staring at it made me feel oddly calmer, as though my body was adjusting to the fact that my life was no longer in immediate danger. I froze then, and hurriedly rinsed the blood off my hands before I reached into my pocket and pulled out the peach, praying it was undamaged.

The skin was broken on it, and my senses were instantly overwhelmed by the scent of what could only be described as heavenly. All my worries seemed to disappear as though just holding it would make everything better. The juices trickled down onto my hand, and the beautiful scent wafted up to me, as though it were a perfume. Without thinking, I reached up and rubbed it onto my neck, as you would a regular perfume.

And then I realized that the painful marks on my neck where the man's hand had been no longer hurt. I froze, and then quickly grabbed a nearby pan that was in the sink and stared into the reflective surface. It revealed something startling. With a gasp, I saw the finger marks were disappearing, as though being wiped away by a gentle hand. I lightly rubbed the juice in a little more and whatever wound it touched slowly faded away as though it never was.

I stared down at the peach again. Was that why this caused immortality? Because once it was eaten it made your innards heal instantaneously? I was no scientist, but I knew enough to remember that theoretically, if one could cause their cells to rejuvenate indefinitely rather than gradually die off, then one could perhaps life forever, or at least remain ageless. But then again, I hadn't seen even so much as a tooth mark on the peach either. That legend… Was it true? The peach was in front of me and so of course no one could have eaten from it… But then I paled. As I looked closely, the torn skin of the peach was knitting itself back together as though it had just been picked off a tree. "Oh," I said weakly. "So that's how it works." It grew itself back. It must have given the gift of rejuvenation to anyone who ate it. This was bad. Very bad. I certainly had nothing against getting a few years back, but in the hands of someone like Ken, it was not good at all. This thing was a weapon. But I wondered about something.

Chewing my lip in concentration, I looked around the kitchen for another clean knife. I found one and placing the peach on the counter, I carefully cut a small slice from it. The intoxicating scent wafted through the air again and I let my head lean back to enjoy the delicious smell. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turned back to the peach and with a growing sense of horror saw it once more grow back into a perfect peach, leaving the small slice sitting on the counter patiently. What in the hell was I supposed to do with that?

And then I saw out of the corner of my eye a blender. Staring at it, a small grin spread across my face. "Light bulb," I said.

The man stared at the open box in front of him with a truly frightening expression. He made no noise or sound as he stared, and then suddenly with a scream of rage flipped over the table and smashed the chair against the metal box. The EMPTY metal box.

"I'll kill her," he hissed. "I'll tear her skin off inch by inch." So saying, he pulled a gun out of his pocket and loaded it. "I'll make sure no one recognizes her as anything but a pile of raw, bloody meat."

With that, he strode away, dark thoughts in his heart and an evil smirk on his face.

I sliced the peach into two sides once I moved to the blender, and the powerful aroma almost overpowered me as suddenly every wonderful memory I had rushed to my mind at once, in an almost divine experience. It was almost too much, and I had to close my eyes tightly and inhale through my mouth for a moment. When I once more opened up my eyes I saw, with almost shock, the peach seed. It was gold, or at least looked just looked like gold. I swallowed and considered that this had to be the source of the peach's magic. Sure enough, I saw the peach once more begin to regenerate around the edges of the seed, and without another moment's thought, I pulled out the seed. It glowed in my hand and it felt almost as though I was holding the hand of someone I loved dearly. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. I quickly dropped the peach slices into the blender and put the lid over the top, and then pressed the 'cycle' button on the blender. Within mere moments, the slices had been diced, sliced, pureed, chopped, and smashed together. Normally it wouldn't have looked that good, but apparently a divine peach looked delicious no matter what happened to it. I had discovered a small plastic water bottle in the pantry and had let it empty into the sink. The vomit still sitting there didn't make me feel nauseous at all. The peach-smell had filled the entire room. Once it was empty, I took the bottle back to the blender and poured the peach-mush into the bottle. I managed to fill it to the brim before closing it. I rushed back to the sink with the blender and the peach seed, praying that it wouldn't start growing again as I rinsed them both off.

Luckily for me, all the seed did was glow gently as though patiently asking me what I'd like to do with it. I put both the seed and bottle into my pockets and walked out of the kitchen. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do. All I knew was that I wanted to get away from that body and that room. I wanted to leave this place. I wanted to get away.

I rushed down the hallways once more, this time not seeing anyone. Whenever I saw a computer screen in a security area or through an open door, the screens were flickering as though they had all been contaminated with a hell of a virus. But there was no time to think about those things. I had to get out of here. I must have been getting close because I could faintly hear the sounds of revving engines. It eventually got to the point where I was throwing open every door I happened across, in the hopes that one of them would lead to the garage. This process of elimination worked fairly well for a while. But then it went downhill very quickly. Mostly because I eventually opened a door and saw Ken waiting on the other side.

"Hello, Irma," he said pleasantly as always. And then he raised his gun and shot at me.

They heard gunshots as they were running down the halls back to the area that they had first infiltrated. They had stopped only a moment earlier when one of them spotted blood seeping from under a door. They flung it open to discover a corpse on the floor and vomit in the sink, but also an overwhelming scent. It was wonderful, the best thing that any of them had ever smelled before. It was almost enough to wipe away the grisly sight of the body.

There were scratch marks all over the man's hands and the oldest knelt down and examined with a solemn face before looking up again. "I think he was trying to strangle someone. They must have gotten away, but looking all these marks, I think it was probably a close shave."

He looked away and closed his eyes briefly. She hadn't ever had to kill anyone before. He had, regrettably, but he was a trained warrior. She had had to take a life because he wasn't fast enough. He made a vow to himself that he would never make her go through something like that again.

"Come on," he barked at them. "Let's go."

I ran from Ken screaming loudly, barely registering the death threats spewing from his mouth as he chased after me. He had the upper hand in this situation. He knew the layout, and I didn't. I had to rely on pure luck to survive here. Frankly, my luck hadn't been all that good. And then I remembered the peach-juice and peach seed in my pockets. Suddenly I felt better about my chances. That was good. At least I could die with a smile on my face that way.

Concentrate, you idiot! Sensible Irma screamed at me in my mind. You can get through this! Just think! Use your surroundings to your advantage!

What surroundings?! I argued back. I have no idea where I am! I'm just lucky I haven't been shot yet!

As if to emphasize my point, another round was squeezed off and I could hear the whistle of air as it shot past my ear and another explicative from Ken. See? I demanded.

Stop making excuses and keep going! Run into that room there! Without really considering it, I ducked into a room with an open door, only to find that it was full of barrels. I ducked behind several and found some long, large metal pipes that were doubtlessly used for repairs. I could hear him walking in after me, cautiously and slowly. He knew I was in here, he just didn't know where. Very slowly I picked up one of the pipes and held it to me for dear life. I cursed myself for not bringing another knife with me for self defense, but all I could think about was how it felt to sink the last one into my would-be killer's neck. I shuddered silently, being sure to keep my gaze on the shadow slowly moving in my direction. Don't breathe, don't breathe, don't breathe…

Finally, I saw an outstretched arm holding the gun walk into my vision. I jumped up with a scream and brought down the pipe as hard as I could, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill of victory as I heard a sickening cracking sound as Ken cried out in pain. I hit his head equally hard, and his gun fell to the floor with a clatter. Moving as quickly as I could, I picked it up and aimed it at him. His nose was bleeding, red flowing down over his lips and he stared up at me with pure hatred, the blood staining his teeth and lips red. I paled and tried to steady my hands.

"I'll kill you," he said to me, like it was a fact.

"I have the gun," I responded.

"Your hands are shaking too badly," he responded, a small smirk appearing on his mouth.

"Not bad enough to keep me from shooting your brains out!" I took a deep breath. "I don't want to kill you, Ken. I've already had to kill someone else, so I'll do it again, but I don't want to."

"Who did you kill?"

"One of those guys you made watch me. I stabbed him through the neck."

He let his head fall back and gave a laugh that made my hair stand on end. "Oh, that's rich. What a joke! To think you killed one of them!"

"Well, I did! And I can kill you too!"

"Probably," he agreed. "But you won't."

I said nothing but motioned for him to get up. He did so. "Take me to the hanger or garage or whatever you use to get out of here."

He was silent as he led me away, moving quickly. "Don't try anything," I said. "I will kill you if I have to."

"Yes, you've said that." He said nothing more as we walked. I said nothing for a while, wanting to make it to the garage or whatever it was, but the silence was oppressive and made me more jumpy. Finally I asked, "What's going on anyway?"

He finally stopped and stared at me. "Don't play stupid, bitch. You know perfectly well what it is!"

"No, actually, I really don't. What is it?"

He snorted and kept walking. "Your little friends showed up."

My heart stopped beating. "Friends?"

"Your freak friends. They found their way here."

I froze. "No way."

He took the moment that I stopped to spin around and punch me. I saw his punch coming though and squeezed off a round, and he crumpled to the floor clutching his shoulder. His cold, handsome face stared up at me. "Be careful, Irma. You have only so many cards to play. Smart people always have an ace in the hole."

I paid little attention to his words. I was trying to ignore the feel of blood trickling down my nose and licked it off my lips without a thought, grimacing at the metallic flavor. Was this really how it had to be? Did I really have to kill this man? He had hurt me, many times, yes, but killing someone was not to be done lightly. How could I just kill him like that?

And then I heard a voice I thought I never would again.

"IRMA!"

My head shot up from looking at Ken and I saw the face of the one person I wanted to see most of all in the world.

A huge smile of relief and joy spread across my face as I saw him race towards me with his brothers. "Donatello!" I called out to him.

And then I felt a very strange thing happen. It was a sharp pain, almost white hot. I looked down to see a knife sticking out of my stomach. I followed the hand and arm of the person gripping the hilt and then looked confusedly into Ken's eyes. "An ace in the hole like that," he said calmly, and then stepped aside so that they could see the blade sticking out of my stomach. Several cries rang out, all of them overridden by Donatello's shout of rage and horror. His eyes met mine for a moment and I saw in them a deep desperation as his he ran to me, arms outstretched. As I crumpled to floor, I briefly considered the irony of the situation. But I was soon distracted from my thoughts by the anguished cries of Donatello and his voice begging me to stay with him as he cradled my head in his hands. There were sounds of flesh being brutally attacked in the corner, but I couldn't muster up the energy to look. It must have been Ken, because soon I saw all four of the brothers gathered around me. My vision was tunneling and their voices were urgent, but I did my best to give them a smile.

"I thought… that you… would just for-forget a-about me," I gasped out as I tried to sit up.

"Irma, don't move, don't move!" Donatello held me still and I registered the feeling of hands on me, unzipping my jacket and then something rip as they tore through my shirt. Fingers touched my wound as gently as they could, but I still gave a gasp of pain.

"We have to take the knife out," said Michelangleo, his mouth in a straight line. "We can't do anything with that in there."

Don looked down at me again, looking as though he was feeling every bit of pain I was. "He's right, Irma," he whispered.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He pressed his lips my forehead as Leo's hand wrapped around the knife. He rained down kisses on my eyelids and nose and cheeks murmuring apologies and all sorts of sweet things about how he'd make it up to me afterwards and saying how it'd be over in just a second and how I shouldn't be scared-

Leo pulled the knife out of my stomach with one swift movement while I was distracted by the feel of Don's hands and mouth running over my skin like I had imagined him doing for so long. I arched up screaming and he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me hard until I fell back, slack from pain.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's alright, don't worry, you're going to be fine, I'll take care of you." He whispered all sorts of things to me as I zoned out from the overwhelming pain and exhaustion I was feeling, hardly feeling Leo's fingers as they probed at my stab wound and Donatello's hands and mouth as he stroked my hair and kissed me.

I hardly had enough energy to make the sounds of discomfort that I did, and I nearly passed out from the pain as Leo examined me before he slowly pulled back, laying a hand gently over the tear in my skin. "It's too deep, Don," Leonardo's voice said softly. "We can't do anything here."

"No!" Raphael shouted. "She's not gonna to die in this hellhole! We're getting her outta here, damnit!"

Michelangelo held my hand tightly, running his thumb over my knuckles reassuringly. "It'll be okay, Irms," he whispered. "We'll take care of you." He did his best to keep his voice from wavering. I squeezed his hand back and then opened my eyes and tried to focus on Don's face.

"D… Don…" my words were cut off by a gasp of pain.

"Irma," he whispered to me, and then, holding my face in his hands, bent over to kiss me on my lips. It was the sweetest thing he had ever done for me, holding me so gently, looking at me like I was the most valuable treasure in the world. And then it hit me.

"Jacket!" I gasped out, trying to sit up again.

"Irma!" Hands tried to hold me down. "You'll make it worse! Please, stop!"

I shook my head furiously. "No! Jacket... p-pocket… a bottle… there…" Weakly, I reached for it with my free hand, groaning at the effort. Everything I did just made me wearier. I let my head fall back into Donatello's hands. "Get it," I whispered. "Hurry."

Something rustled against my jacket, and someone began to pat me down to see what I had. I was so tired…

"No! Irma! Stay awake! Okay? Stay awake!"

Raphael gave a groan of pain like I'd never heard from him before, and I heard his footsteps go away to attack something.

But it wasn't enough. My eyes started closing of their own accord and I turned my face to nuzzle against Don's hand. It was the last thing I felt as I felt myself drifting away.

Well, this chapter ends on perhaps a sadder note than was expected, I'm sure. But you guys have lasted this long, and there's still once chapter left along with an epilogue. If you can manage to make yourselves stick around, I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know this chapter is somewhat short, but I hope you guys liked it just the same, despite the death and all that in it.

Please review and let me know how you like it! If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask me either.