Rain pattered on the roof of the Battle Shell and trickled down the windshield, before being swept away by the wipers. Donatello squinted out into the street, wishing the headlights were a little brighter so he could see where he was going. Maybe he'd tinker with them tomorrow… see if he could make them emit just a little more light.

"You really loved that, didn't you, Don?"

"Hmm?" Don said, breaking out of his thoughts. "What?"

"April falling asleep on you," Mikey said with a wide, devilish grin.

"Well, she seemed pretty comfortable. I didn't mind her using me as a pillow—"

"Don't lie. I saw your face."

"Enough teasing the driver," Leo commanded, with the air of one who must be obeyed.

"But Leo, did you see them?" Mikey protested. "Donnie looked like he won the lottery, and April was all cuddly with him—"

Don pointedly tuned his little brother out, focusing his attention instead on the streets he had to drive through to get home. They were almost there — just a few more minutes and they would reach the old warehouse above their home, and return to their underground lair for the night.

But try as he might, he couldn't get that nagging thought out of his head. The truth was, Mikey was right. He had enjoyed the contact with April — she hadn't just leaned on him as she slept, she had practically draped herself over the left side of his body, her own body molding against him as she relaxed. Whatever dreams she had had were peaceful, judging by the serenity of her face and the occasional contented murmur. Not wanting to wake her, he had moved his hand to her waist to keep her steady, and then had settled in to watch the movie.

However, guilt had set in about three-quarters of the way through the movie — the underlying feeling that he was letting April do something she would later be embarrassed by, just for his own pleasure. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing, that April wouldn't mind when she woke up. But he didn't believe it.

So as the movie was wrapping up, he had tried to wake her up… only for her to start caressing his chest and nuzzling at his throat. And sniffing him. For some reason, she had sniffed him. Wrapping an arm around her to keep her from sliding down into his lap — something that would embarrass her even more — he had finally managed to wake her up.

Don sighed. He just hoped his later conversations about the Sentinel robots — which really were malfunctioning — would keep things from becoming awkward between them.

"No judgement, okay?" Mikey said, tapping him on the shoulder. "I mean, if a girl who looked like April fell asleep on me, I'd enjoy it. She probably wouldn't when she woke up and saw a giant talking turtle, but I'd like it."

"Mikey, it's not a big deal to me," Don said, considering whether crashing the Battle Shell into a wall would shut Mikey up.

He focused his mind on driving and not on Mikey's prattle, keeping his eyes on the rainy street ahead. The water streaming over the windshield was more intense than ever, making it hard for him to see what was in front of him. He turned up the windshield wipers and leaned in over the wheel, squinting out into the dark street.

Fortunately, the streets around their home didn't tend to be too occupied this time of night, except by the sort of people who would probably avoid the Turtles if at all possible. The Purple Dragons might have been a nuisance if they were on foot, but the street gang tended to avoid the armored truck, as it made it too easy for the Turtles to defend themselves without being exposed.

He squinted again, leaning forwards in his seat. And then something appeared in front of him — a tall wavering figure standing in the middle of the road.

His eyes widened and his foot desperately slammed on the brakes, causing the massive Battle Shell to lurch forward, slipping on the wet street, then slide sideways, almost into a wall. He could hear the thuds of his brothers hitting the backs of their seats behind him, but he couldn't make the vehicle stop—couldn't keep it from skidding through the water—

"Whoa, Donnie!" Leo shouted.

The truck finally stopped sliding, inches from a concrete wall. Donnie took a rough, rattling breath.

Raph picked himself off the floor with a groan. "What's the matter, Don?" he said. "Forget how to drive in the rain?"

Don slowly turned around, his olive-green face pallid and his expression locked in one of dread. "I think…" he said slowly. "I think I just ran someone down."

"What?" Raph said. "No way."

"I didn't feel the Battle Shell hit anything," Leo said dubiously.

"I saw someone standing in the road just before I tried to brake," Don said desperately. "But the Battle Shell hydroplaned, and I couldn't—"

"We'll take a look," Leo said, moving towards the back of the vehicle. "If anyone was hurt, we have to help them."

They were hit by a blast of chilly rain as the doors swung open, coating their skin and pouring into their eyes. Leonardo shivered and held a hand out before his eyes. The wind had picked up and was blowing past them, bringing old newspapers and the faint scent of spilled oil with it. A full-blown storm was brewing around them, and the Turtles were caught out in it.

"Ugh, I'm gonna need a shower after this shower," Mikey groaned.

Raph just grumbled under his breath and stalked out into the dark.

Leo lifted his hand and clicked on a flashlight, sending a weak beam shining across the road behind them. His eyes strained against the dark as he tried to see anything out in the road — a shape, a blood spatter, some sign that someone was there or had been there…

Then his eyes narrowed, as the beam found something dark and huddled in the middle of the street. It was about the size of a person if they were curled up on themselves, and he could see something black fluttering in the wind, like a cloak or a long coat.

Raph was already kneeling beside it, bending down low and doing something with his hands.

"Is it alive?" Leo shouted against the wind.

"Nope, but it never was," Raph responded equally loudly. "Garbage bag fulla trash. Someone must've dropped it."

Relief flooded through Leo at those words. He clicked off the flashlight and took a step back towards the Battle Shell. "Everyone back inside, before you catch pneumonia," he ordered.

Mikey and Raph obeyed gladly, scuttling back inside the vehicle. Leo was the last to step back inside, and shut the doors behind himself. He gave a last shudder, and rubbed his hands over his arms. "That storm's practically turning into a hurricane," he said.

"Well, how bad was it?" Don asked anxiously.

"Not too bad," Leo said, placing a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "It was just a bag of trash you saw. You didn't hurt anyone."

"It wasn't just a bag of trash," Don protested, looking up at Leo with pleading eyes. "It was standing upright."

"The wind can do funny things."

"Leo—"

"Donnie, we looked all over the road, and there was no sign of a person. Just a bag of trash."

Don stared up at him a moment longer, then seemed to wilt. "If — if you say so."

"Why don't you let me drive for awhile?" Leo suggested, gesturing at the road ahead. "You've been awake for a long time, and with the wind and rain like they are, maybe you're not seeing things clearly."

"Yeah, maybe," Don said, slipping out of his seat. "Thanks, Leo."