Chapter 4: Chaos for Company

Increasingly anxious and confused, Emma braces herself for the worst with the arrival of an adult. Except, instead of burgeoning into an even more unsettling and volatile situation, the atmosphere becomes almost… domestic. Now she must decide to fight and flee or trust them to help her.

"Pizza!" cried Mikey, scrambling over the coffee table and bumping into Raph.

"Watch it!" Raph snapped, shoving Mikey into Leo.

"Raph, that's not helping."

"You're right, Leo," Raph sneered. "You wanna help him outta window or should I?"

Yorik Hamilton shut the door behind him, instinctively raising the stack of pizza boxes out of reach as his youngest son came barreling toward him.

"I think you've helped enough tonight," Leonardo growled under his breath.

"Kiss my—"

"Raphael!" Ignoring Michelangelo, who was bouncing around him impatiently, Yorik eyed the toppled dining table. Chairs askew, the hardwood floor was cluttered with random bits of plastic and metal. Yorik sighed. The absence of scorch marks ruled out the "Donatello miscalculated" probability so, stepping over what appeared to be a metal head, Yorik settled into the alternative lecture with the customary question: "What have I said about wrestling in the front room?"

"Yeah, Raph," chirped Michelangelo, "no pizza for you!" Then, grinning, he reached for a pizza box as his father set them on the kitchen counter.

Yorik caught his son's wrist with a shake of his head. "Wash first."

"Aww!"

Emma had given up trying to follow their mad conversation! Raph had released her arm and, thanks to the arrival of the pizza man, she now had a general idea of where the exit was.

My turn, she thought grimly before stomping hard on Raph's instep.

Raph cursed and managed to avoid the girl's groin attack, but he was too slow to protect his face.

Emma felt the heel of her hand connect with his nose before immediately lunging to the left and hopefully toward the door.

Yorik whirled around, swallowing his own expletive as all hell broke loose in his living room.

April O'Neil was on her feet trying to help an irate Raphael staunch his bloody nose with a jacket she'd grabbed off the floor while Donatello intercepted a furious Casey Jones, who was apparently the owner of the jacket. At the same time, Michelangelo had taken his first bite of pizza and was currently choking on it as Leonardo reached for a girl Yorik did not recognize, her face turned away from him.

Emma felt reaching fingers brush her bicep and instinctively jerked away, colliding into a side table and using it as leverage to kick out with her right leg. Her attacker's breath whooshed out with a satisfying gasp but his fingers wrapped tight around her ankle. Frantic and off-balance, Emma's arm bumped a table lamp and she grasped at it, pulling hard and swinging it around at her captor.

"Enough!"

The lamp came to a jarring halt and Emma let it go with a gasp.

Struggling to calm her racing heart, Emma suppressed the urge to rub at the ache in her right shoulder, her fingers instead curling into fists at her sides as she tried to think of what to do next. Hot tears stung beneath her swollen eyelid. She hurt everywhere, was horribly outnumbered and even more frustrated! A plan, she thought desperately, I need a plan!

Scowling, Yorik lowered the lamp, shooting a pointed look at Leonardo who reluctantly released the girl's ankle. "What is going on here?" he snapped, his tone sharp with paternal frustration as he eyed each of his sons before turning to the girl.

"Raph said he was trying to help this girl," Leonardo started accusingly at the same time Casey exclaimed, "Ya shoulda seem 'im fly down that fire escape, Mr. Hamilton!"

"I already checked for concussion," Donatello reported, "but the laceration over her eyebrow may need—"

"I checked for a contusion, doctor," Michelangelo mocked, pushing imaginary glasses up his nose. "But the bleeding gash on her face might need a Band-Aid."

Donatello scowled.

"Preparing to kiss it better," Michelangelo continued, grabbing another piece of pizza and puckering up. "Like dis."

"I mean, he was really bookin' it like a bat outta…" Casey continued.

"Whadda ya mean, tried?" Raphael argued, tossing Casey his now blood-stained jacket. "She's alive, ain't she?" To which Michelangelo responded with a snort and a mumbled, "Barely."

"Concussion," Donatello corrected irritably, pushing his glasses up his nose. "A contusion is a—"

"Whatever," Michelangelo chortled around a mouthful of pizza.

Yorik was vaguely aware of the arguments escalating around him as he studied the girl's swollen, bloody face with a heavy heart. Her expression was brave as she stared up at him with one unswollen eye, but her breathing was fast and uneven and her fingers were curled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.

"She thinks you kidnapped her, Raph!" snapped Leonardo impatiently, to which Donatello reasoned, "Well, isn't that exactly what happened? I mean, from her perspective, Raph—"

"Someone hit her tonight!" Raphael roared suddenly, bringing all conversation to a startled halt. "I don't know who," he continued angrily, swiping at his bloody nose, "and I don't care! But I sure as hell wasn't takin' her back for more!"

Yorik looked at his son; there was anger there, yes, but there was also fear. Whatever happened tonight had scared him.

The girl was watching Raphael as well, her open eye wary and… unfocused.

Frowning, Yorik looked closer. Donatello was correct in that she didn't appear to have a concussion but her eye movement was off, her pupil unusually still.

Blind, he realized in amazement. She's blind.

Raphael, meanwhile, had stuffed his fists in his pockets, looking uncomfortable as everyone waited for him to explain.

Yorik suppressed a smile, his second-eldest had never been one for the spotlight. "What happened?" he asked, looking first at the girl and then at Raphael.

Raphael shrugged. "I saw her crawlin' outta window from Casey's roof and thought she was gonna jump," he mumbled. "But after I gotta look at 'er…" He looked at the girl and clenched his jaw.

Yorik felt the warm burn of paternal pride and settled a solid hand on his son's shoulder before returning his gaze to the girl.

Emma wasn't sure what to think. Or do.

"Someone hit her tonight! I don't know who and I don't care! But I sure as hell wasn't takin' her back for more!"

This… Raph could have taken her back inside.

She swallowed hard; he could have let her fall.

But he hadn't. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Emma dared to hope.

Yorik hummed thoughtfully. "I don't suppose," he said slowly, allowing a friendly smile to lighten his words, "my sons introduced themselves?" The girl blinked at him and Yorik chuckled. "No, I suppose not." He cast an amused glance at his eldest, whose expression turned guilty.

"I'm Leo—"

"'M Mi-ee!" Michelangelo interrupted around yet another mouthful of pizza.

"—nardo," Leonardo finished with a frown.

"Donatello," said his second-youngest son, brown eyes both curious and concerned.

"I'm April," said April with a little wave, before remembering their guest couldn't see her. "O'Neil."

"Casey Jones," Casey drawled. "No relation."

Once again, all eyes were on Raphael, who scowled and swiped at his bloody nose. "Raphael," he growled.

"All the good ones end in O!" Michelangelo announced, dropping onto the leather sofa with a mischievous laugh.

Casey snorted but Yorik shot them both a warning look before returning his attention to the girl, whose fists were no longer so tightly clenched. "And I am Yorik."

Emma clenched her jaw; she still didn't know what to do. Should she tell them who she was? What had happened?

Experience had taught her to keep quiet, stay alert, and trust no one. But—

She turned her head slightly in Raphael's direction.

Could she trust them?

It took a moment for Raph to notice he was being watched… so to speak.

He was still struggling to control his temper. Not because Reckless had hit him (and damn if she didn't pack a decent punch) but because all he could see were the raw welts around her wrists.

"I will not be another kidnap statistic!"

Raph clenched his fists.

It was then he realized she was watching him, chin still raised and defiant. But there was also a question in her gaze. He cleared his throat and tried to mediate his voice. It didn't work. "You wanna call home?" he barked. "Your mom or dad are probably lookin' for ya."

The girl's expression cracked and Raph swallowed a curse when her lip trembled as she shook her head.

"No," she breathed. "There's no one." Tears welled in her eye as she choked, "They killed her."

© Nickelodeon