A/N: Got a wee bit longer until the beginning is wrapped up. ;)

September 24
8:10 PM

Garbled sounds pulsed through Hamato Michelangelo's skull. Hums. Light chatter. Car horns. It made concentration hard, but he had to find his bearings. For Nia and Melody, he had to. So he blinked the world into focus and ignored how cotton-like his mouth felt.

He sat beneath a cluster of overpasses, propped against a van with a perfect view of Manhattan's skyline beyond a large, empty lot. It was mostly dark, traffic blared overhead, and the closest light source flickered through the vehicle's cab windows. Shards of glass poked at the soles of Mike's feet when he shifted his legs in the gravel, except he had no fear of cutting himself because his moves were too lethargic.

"Mel," he whispered.

The cyborg beside him remained still, save a subtle twitch in her limbs.

'Stupid switchbox-thing,' he thought. 'But is she not responding thanks to that or…'

His gaze traveled to the figure on his other side. Nia. The poor artist could hardly move. Wrists and ankles bound, she curled into a ball on the ground and sniffed into her knees. The position exposed her beaten, raw back through her torn nightgown.

"Nia," Mikey called. "Do—do you know where Doofus One and Two are? Did they leave?"

"This isn't happening," Nia whispered. "Not again."

"Psst, Ni."

"I can't. I—I can't stand any more red."

Yup; her IgRs were unbalanced. They heated Mikey's blood and her shakes left him lightheaded.

"You aren't going anywhere, Nia. Have some faith in your clan."

"It's not that. I—I—oh." She curled up tighter, sniffling more.

"Okay. Let's put it this way. I—I love you. I do. But"—the mutant cringed—"I'm seeing spots and I doubt this stress is good for your baby."

Nia froze, from head to tights. The prickling air eased just enough to maintain an edge as she uncurled. She hesitated then glanced up at her brother through wide eyes and dust.

"Wh—what'd you just say?" she whispered.

"This is probably the worst way to find out. Mel talked with Don through some mind call and—"

"Did you…?" Nia wiggled so she could face Mikey easier. "Ba—baby?"

"Don confirmed it. Those were the test results. You're"—the Chūnin smiled—"you're pregnant, Sis."

Nia gawked. What more could he expect at such a time? The flickering light escalated into a pop when her head dropped and she rolled onto her side with a groan.

"Ni, listen," Mikey said when her hair fell into her face. "I won't let anything happen to you. Or my niece or nephew. Or Mel. But things will be easier if you stay calm. Can you stay calm for me?"

"I—I—I'm trying, Mikey," Nia replied with a sob. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Your hormones are probably all over the place…"

"That light's new, Man," Chet spat. Shuffling sounded on the van's other side, shoes digging through gravel. "Dunno what the hell's up."

"Whatever," Walter countered. "Master Changeling's on his way. Let's check the cargo."

The men rounded the van too quickly for Michelangelo's tastes. He glared at his captors, Chet Black and Walter Fowler. Neither brunette looked very tall; Walter didn't even reach Mikey's height while Chet must've been shorter than Raphael. Yet they stood proud against the dull glow from lampposts along the bypasses above, dressed in…

"Ho—how'd two punks like you end up with Shells?" Mikey asked.

Chet shared a look with his partner. "How do you know what a Shell is?"

The mutant ignored their glares. "Did your boss give those too you? A present for kidnapping American citizens?"

"You lived under a city," Chet snapped. "You aren't citizens. I don't even know what you are."

"Heroes," Mikey all but hissed. "Like you swore to be the day you became an EMT."

"A paycheck is a paycheck," Walter interjected. Unlike Chet, he stood at a distance, disgust in his gaze.

"And it's stressful like you wouldn't believe."

Mike sent Chet a dry stare. "Do tell."

"Shut it up, Chet." Back arched, Walter rubbed his hands. "It creeps me out when it does that."

"Big baby. What can he do?"

If only they knew. Michelangelo rolled his eyes when Chet snorted then narrowed them when the short brunette noticed Nia. The man knelt beside her, reaching downwards. No sooner did his gloves brush her skin did she kick forward.

"No!" she cried.

"Stop that!" Chet spat.

He reached for her again, so she kicked harder, pushing his leg outwards so fast that he lost balance. His chin dug into the gravel, his teeth snapping as she retreated beneath the van. It was pitiful cover. But Mikey understood her need to act and willed the second round of sedatives to metabolize from his system.

"We even sure she's worth the effort?" Walter asked. "She isn't a cyborg or mutant. She's just…"

"A cute extra," Chet finished.

He caught Nia's ankle then pulled her out from below the van. Mikey growled at how she whimpered, how the gravel cut into her raw skin from the Shell's extra strength. Chet pinned the young woman down by pressing a forearm over her throat, his knees against her thighs. Then, he flashed a red-tooth smile that heated the mutant's veins.

"Pretty eyes," Chet said. Nia flinched when his fingers ran down her blood-stained cheek. "Are they natural?"

Sedatives be damned!

Michelangelo fought the heaviness behind his eyes and pulled his legs up, even if they felt like thick noodles. He sprung his body at Chet with a roar, and they met the ground, Mikey on top. Chet countered the mutant's assault with a punch. It rolled him, but lacked the power Sophia showed while sparring.

Good; he had a Shell and no idea how to use it.

"Walter!"

Cue Turtle Luck.

Mike glared, craning his neck to see the second man. He never did. Before he sat up, a shock wracked his body. It contracted his muscles with a sizzling sound until he collapsed onto the gravel, tingling.

'Great, they got a Taser too…how…lucky…'

Everything darkened as Nia's and Melody's forms grew smaller. He wanted to stay, to protect them, but the blackness called. And it overwhelmed him.

'Mike better be wit' them,' Hamato Raphael thought.

It was the only hope that kept him sane, so he held onto it, to prevent himself from wondering what his wife was enduring in his absence.

'I should'a been there for her. I should'a—should'a punched through the wall an'…'

He sighed. Even in his mind, that sounded ridiculous. He could never accomplish such a thing, not without robotic gauntlets or Mikey's Shell.

'We couldn't find that, but we did recover Don's Taser Glove.'

Maybe it could prove useful?

"Raph, are you paying attention?"

Meeting Donatello's hard stare, Raph snorted. "'Course."

"Which is why you're going the wrong way around the fence?"

The hothead paused then glanced forward. He saw an overgrown chain-link fence, which stretched towards the Hudson and New York skyline with no end in sight.

"Focus, Raph, remember?" Hugh asked.

The hothead growled. "Why ain't we goin' over it, anyway?"

"Because"—Don's voice grew thin—"we're using an old maintenance shed as cover. That works better when we don't walk in front of it."

Sheesh. Did he have to emphasis his last few words?

Blanching, Raphael followed his brother, Hugh, and Sophia. The right way. They traveled deeper below two overpasses and what the hothead swore was an unused monorail from a forgotten project. Growing shadows became allies as the noise cover increased—a somewhat welcome change when the group spotted the stone building in question. They approached it on silent feet.

All save Hugh, that is.

"What?" the detective asked when the others glanced his way.

"We need to teach you some tricks, Riccio," Sophia said.

"It's not exactly silent out here."

"Hugh"—Don's Bō staff halted the man—"wait here with your gun."

"You too, Don?"

"It's not that. You should hold your ground at this angle, as extra cover. If we need help, the surprise bullets will come in handy."

"But—"

"Can you vault to the top of that maintenance shed?"

Hugh glanced at the ten-foot-tall structure then glared. "Fine," he grumbled. And after waving his gun, he turned towards the fence.

"Ya sure this is where Mel's signal's comin' from?" Raph asked Donny. He sent the genius a look then headed for the building not far away.

Voices answered instead: three males, whose baselines carried above the rumbled of an idle Diesel engine. By the time the trio stationed their bodies along the shed's flat roof, Raph heard them shouting across the gravel lot and his Sais longed for action.

"Assess first," Don whispered with an arm across the hothead's plastron.

"Those are the guys," Raph hissed.

"I know."

"Mel 'n Mike are right there. In the headlights."

"I know!" Donny pushed harder, which made his brother realize how far he leaned over the shed's ledge. "They're center stage. Both guys are still wearing Shells and who knows what tricks the third guy has up his sleeves. For all we know, he could shoot everyone the moment we make ourselves known."

"Please." Sophia growled. "I'd like to see nanetto there wield his Shell better than me."

"Brute force won't help," Don told her. "Wait for the right moment. Then we strike."

Raphael hated the idea; even it could work, considering how their argument consumed the men.

"That wasn't our deal!" the short brunette cried. He aligned himself behind Melody. Probably because he wore an enhancement suit and thus assumed he could control her if she woke.

"You will take what is offered," the unknown man said.

Blinding rays from a truck's high-beams left a halo effect around his super-tall form. He looked stretched against the wafting exhaust, disproportionate, and he sported a mask. It resembled the one Melody wore while working for Black Lotus. Only, the African-like design was monochromatic with jagged shark teeth in place of the small, open mouth.

"Master Changeling was supposed to meet us," the Asian-American added inside Shark Guy's long shadow. "Why aren't we talking with him?"

"Master Changeling is busy, Mister Fowler," Shark Guy said, shrugging. "Otherwise, he would be here. He's quite excited about this pick up."

The shortest man shifted. "Why the price change then?"

"There was never a set price, Mister Black. Master said he would negotiate if you could retrieve her."

"Well, we did. And then some. We deserve compensation!"

"The mutant is worth something. The third…"

"Oh, come on!" Black stormed to his shut-off van then reached inside the open back. He pulled Nia out by her hair. She fell into the gravel, clearly sluggish, and the plea that left her nearly cost the man a Sai in his throat.

"Not yet, Raph," whispered Don, deep. However, he handed over the Taser Glove from his duffle bag. At least he understood the hothead's need to vent when the time did come…

"Look at this," Black said as he forced Nia to join Melody's and Michelangelo's unconscious forms. "He needs healthy subjects, right? That's what he mentioned in his e-mails. She's healthy. Pretty enough, too. I'm sure he could find something to do with her."

Raph's three fingers curled inside the glove, his limbs shaking with such fury he felt them burn.

Nia said something that was lost the truck's rumble. Her husband only knew she had spoken because the others looked at her.

"You think?" Black asked.

Nia nodded then stumbled between her siblings.

"Guess the same could be said for you. Otherwise, you'd be elsewhere."

The artist replied while glancing up at Black. God, must she be so soft spoken?

"Don't talk down to me," Black snarled. "You have no idea how hard I've worked. And for what? To survive? I'm sick of it. All of it! So if I can fix my situation and help the world, what better deal is there?"

"This isn't helping!" Nia screamed. She shifted on her bound feet then fell to her knees. "Ho—how could you think that?"

"Argue later," Shark Guy interjected. He sounded bored. "I'll take the mutant and cyborg. You do…whatever with the girl. She's noisy."

"No!" Nia found the strength to stand when the masked-figure stepped forward. Her hands were tied behind her, but she readied herself before Mel and Mikey. "They've been through enough!"

"Stop talking!" Black cried.

Frustration fueled his arm; it swung at Nia, burying a fist into her ribs. She hunched as the man cursed then gagged when he kneed her stomach.

The fool should've stopped while he was ahead. Before his wife met the ground, Raphael leaped off his perch. Both his Sai and glove were charged.