A/N: Hey everyone. Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend. I had someone ask me if this is a sequel to the sad or happy ending of Healing The Broken. The majority of you wanted Elizabeth and Akemi to live so they have. I'm going to aim to post every Sunday because my weekdays are usually packed and the next few Saturdays are chaos for me. If I miss please forgive me. Thanks for those who've taken the time to review. I appreciate it. And I'll see you all next week. Have a great week.

Chapter 1

Gone

Hamato Raphael was enjoying the quiet that had settled on the lair for once. It didn't come very often these days, not with a three year old who constantly seemed to be into everything, and had passed through the terrible two stage, only to enter the even worse than that terrible threes. He loved Akemi, he even thought of the human child, the daughter of his girlfriend of three years, as his own, but that didn't make her temper tantrums or constant screaming when she didn't get her way any easier to handle. It often rode on his already short fuse for his temper, and things between Elizabeth and himself had been strained lately because of it.

Raphael sighed. Elizabeth wasn't easily riled, she was the most even tempered person Raphael had ever met. She seemed to have endless patience, but she had seemed especially testy lately. Raphael wasn't sure if that was because of Akemi's more frequent temper tantrums or because it was "that time of the month" again. It seemed to be the only time where Elizabeth would really get angry and emotionally unstable. One minute she could be as mad as hornets, the next minute she'd be weeping all over the place, which made Raphael extremely uncomfortable.

Raphael shifted on the couch and sipped at his soda as he flipped through the channels on the TV. Elizabeth had put Akemi to bed a little over an hour ago, and after screaming for a solid twenty minutes Akemi had finally grown quiet. Raphael had seen the relieved look on his brother Leonardo's face as his brother had headed to his room to meditate. Donatello, had already retreated to his lab and closed the door so no one would disturb him. Michelangelo wasn't even the lair. He had mentioned something about some comic convention but Raphael hadn't paid too much attention. Comics weren't his thing. In fact he thought they were a complete waste of time and thought most of the characters in those comics were wusses. Especially the ones who wore tights.

"Mmm… can't we watch something besides this?" Elizabeth asked as she sat down next to him, bringing a bowl of popcorn with her. Raph lifted his arm, allowing her to curl in against his side. She did, resting her head against his plastron and snuggling close while popping a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth.

"What cha wanna watch?" Raph asked, agreeably. He was just as anxious to do something with Elizabeth as she was to do with him, something that didn't include fighting for a change.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Anything but Die Hard. I'm tired of that movie."

Raphael chuckled but got up to see if anything in their small DVD collection would be of any interest to him. He smirked finding one and held it up. Elizabeth made a face.

"Something with a little less gore? I'm really not in the mood to watch so many people get their heads sliced off."

Raph shook his head and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Why don't ya pick somet'in'? Dat way yer 'appy wit' it."

Elizabeth sighed. "As long as it isn't the Lion King or too gory I don't care what we watch."

"T'ink dat da Lion King is gettin' worn out," Raph commented drily.

"Good, then we won't have to listen to it so much," Elizabeth grumbled.

Raph couldn't help but chuckle.

Akemi had taken a very strong liking to the animated Disney movie and insisted on watching it whenever she could. If Raphael or Elizabeth refused to put it in for her, she would either harass one of her uncles until they caved in, or, simply put it in herself. She had only recently learned that she could put the shiny disk into the player herself and Raph was honestly surprised that the DVD would play anymore because of it. The amount of times Akemi had watched it had increased ten-fold over the past few days, and the poor DVD was covered in scratches, fingerprints, and even had a sticky orange spot on the backside of it. Raphael wouldn't be surprised if the DVD just threw in the towel altogether one of these days. Raphael had counted at least six times that he'd seen Akemi watching the stupid thing in one day. Heck, those songs were playing so often in the lair Raph had caught Mikey humming them to himself while he'd made lunch, but Raph had quickly discouraged that with a sharp smack on the back of his head.

Raph scowled looking at the DVD's he didn't know what to pick. He heard the couch shift a little as Elizabeth got up. Probably better if he let her pick the DVD. He felt her long brown hair tickle his shoulder as she leaned over him to look at the titles.

"What about this one?" She asked, pointing.

"Ya serious?" Raph asked, skeptically.

"Come on, Raph – it's funny. And it has action in it as well. You'll like it I promise."

Raph sighed but took the green case out and pulled out the DVD. Elizabeth was already back on the couch, moving the popcorn to her lap while she waited for Raph to put the DVD into the player. Raph joined her less than a minute later, wrapping his arm comfortably around her shoulders and drawing her close.

"You ever seen this movie before?" Elizabeth asked as Raphael pushed play and the movie began.

"I t'ink I've seen parts of it. Mos' animal movies either da people or da animal dies. Dey are all depressin'."

"Didn't know you were so sensitive," Elizabeth teased.

"I ain't – I like action, dat's all. Des movies are all lovin' and carin' and stuff like dat."

Elizabeth chuckled. "This one is funny and it has action, Raph."

"Raphael!"

Raph half-turned staring at his older brother over the back of the couch. "What do ya want, fearless?"

"Have you seen Michelangelo?"

"He said he was goin' out."

"Alone?" Leonardo frowned, his dark brown eyes narrowing behind his mask. "How long has he been gone?"

"An hour I t'ink. He'll be fine, fearless. He had dat comic convention t'ing tonight. He ain't gonna git in trouble."

Leo scowled. "None of us should be out there alone, Raph. Not with the increased purple dragon and foot activity."

"Mikey's a chucklehead, but he ain't dumb, Leo. He ain't gonna engage da foot or no dragons."

Leo huffed, and Raph suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. But he could see now was not the time to rile Leo up. If he and Leo got into a shouting match it would wake Akemi, and then not only would he have an irritated older brother but a screaming three-year-old to contend with, and then there would be Elizabeth's temper to deal with as well. She might be slow to anger, quick to cool most of the time, but if Akemi had already been put to bed for the night, and someone woke her Elizabeth was a force to be reckoned with.

Normally he enjoyed jerking Leo's chain. His brother really needed to loosen up a little, he could be such a stick in the mud. But there really was no point in doing so tonight. The lair was quiet and peaceful, and Mikey would be just fine. Raph turned back to the TV watching as Tom Hanks, playing a cop, walked down the deck, turning a muffin nervously in his fingers. And then, quite suddenly, a Dogue de Bordeaux leapt over the top of the door and ran at him, knocked him down, and clamped his teeth around his throat as the muffin went flying into the air, fell to the damp dock, and rolled several times before coming to a stop right side up.

Elizabeth chuckled, and Raph smirked as he adjusted her more comfortably against him. How much trouble could Mikey get into at a comic convention anyway?

Melinda's heart was pounding in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins was sharpening her senses and she could hear every single noise, including her own, terrified breathing.

Another groan, low, soft, pained. Someone was hurt down there! But it wasn't really her concern was it? Still she couldn't just leave someone alone down there if they were hurt… she'd been brought up to know better than that. Her father, who'd passed away from cancer just a year before would have been so disappointed in her.

Pulling out her cell phone, Melinda started to call 911, but paused. She had no idea who she was calling for, and if it was a homeless bum down there they'd refuse the medical treatment anyway. She paused with her finger hovering over the 1 button and then, before she could talk herself out of it proceeded down the alleyway.

Her high heels clicked on the cement, her heart pounding in her chest. She paused. This was stupid, she should just call 911 and let the authorities handle it. Whoever it was that was hurt could be dangerous. Could try to hurt her. She wasn't a fighter. And she was petite, though she worked out regularly, she knew that she could easily be overcome if the man, and she was certain it was a man down here, was strong enough.

She gripped the phone again, almost hard enough to crack the casing. Her stomach jumped to her throat and she had to fight he initial instinct to flee.

Another groan distracted her and she took another cautious step towards the double dumpsters. "H... Hello? Is – is someone down here?"

A groan.

Using her phone to light the pavement before her she made her way cautiously forward, not sure what was compelling her to actually see who was down here, but now that she was, adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her feel braver than she actually was.

The light the phone provided was dim, and even though she was being cautious, she tripped and nearly went sprawling, only preventing it by latching onto the side of the dumpster. She swore softly and turned, glaring at the ground to see what she had tripped over and nearly screamed. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop it before it had any volume.

It wasn't what made her trip that had startled her, that seemed to be two pieces of wood contained by a short length of chain. A weapon perhaps? No. That wasn't what had made her heart pound, sent adrenaline through her veins, and made her blood chill in horror at the same time. It was a leg. It was green with a large two-toed foot on the end. But it was definitely a leg. What was that? Some kind of funky costume or something? But Halloween wasn't for months. She frowned, holding her phone up and allowed it to drift up the rest of the body.

The costumed man was sprawled on its back, head turned away, just to the side of the dumpster. The costume was amazing. If she didn't know better she would've thought that it wasn't really a costume. But such a creature couldn't exist. It looked like a giant turtle. There was no such thing. She chuckled to herself at the impossibility of it. Braver now she came closer. The man's head was turned away, well, at least the "turtle head" part of the costume was turned away. She frowned a little using the dim light of her phone to drift over the costume and get a better look. The mask was a bit much. Why would they have to put a mask on the already theatrical costume? That was a bit of an overkill. This guy obviously loved theatrics.

Her eyes continued to roam down the costume. The green such a strange shade, not one she'd think of when she thought of turtles. Darker than she would've thought. His front plating – what was that called again? She had failed biology, she'd never been interested in learning about animals and had found that class completely useless. What was the point in knowing what a turtle's front part of the shell was called? It wasn't like she'd ever need to know it in real life anyway. Let the biologists and scientists know – as a secretary that information meant little to her. But seeing it now made her curious. There were a few imperfections in the foam. Dents, chips, as if the front had been damaged in some way. The detail to it was amazing! Melinda had never seen such a thing before.

The front shelled part of the costume ended at a point right above his thighs, which were the same shade of green, but he had weird leather pads on his knees, she frowned. She'd seen similar pads on his elbows and weird leather bands around his wrists. This guy was crazy – and what was with the belt around the armor plating? Definitely seemed like overkill. The costume itself was enough.

Melinda was so engrossed in her examination she didn't notice when he stirred at first, at least until he groaned. His head shifted slightly, the three fingered hand twitched and then he was still again.

Melinda frowned, concerned. She reached forward, meaning to touch his arm, but hesitated. Was this some kind of stunt? Had he lured her in here to scare her, and she was almost at the brunt of his joke – the part where he grabbed her and pulled off the turtle head with a smirk?

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright?"

She got no answer. He didn't reach out to grab her. He didn't seem coiled ready to spring at her. He must really be hurt!

Convinced now that this was no joke and this guy, theatrical or not, really did need help she reached out boldly to comfort him with her touch while she dialed 911 – but recoiled in shock when her fingers came into contact with… something alive! She'd expected fine foam, soft and giving under her fingers. Not living breathing flesh! Her breath caught in her throat. That was no costume!

She found herself pressed against the opposite alley wall with no idea on how she'd gotten there, staring at the creature in horror. Her breath was rasping up and down her throat, her chest heaving in terror. This couldn't be possible! This kind of thing didn't happen!

She felt her heart thud painfully against her ribcage as she watched the turtle for several long minutes. She should just leave it there. It wasn't her concern. It was carrying weapons, and it was clearly athletic – she'd seen the definition of his muscles. She didn't even like animals. She'd been coaxed into going to the pet store with her younger sister when they were younger, mainly because Christine couldn't drive and had needed a ride. Melinda had stared at the varieties of animals on display with an air of disdain. Pets were stinky, noisy, expensive, and a lot of work. Even the turtles had cost almost a hundred dollars a piece depending on what species the shop had in stock at the time.

But Christine had always loved animals. Melinda knew what Christine would be doing in her place right now. She'd have cared for the creature, looked him over for injuries, tried to make him comfortable with no fear. But Christine wasn't here – she was in Montana on a small but growing ranch/dude ranch with her husband Mark of just over two years. Mark had quit the railroad so he could be with her at the ranch full time. Christine had been thrilled.

Her thoughts snapped back to the creature when he groaned again, stirring slightly. He rolled his head, so he was facing her and Melinda saw his eyelids part, revealing his eyes. They were clouded in pain and confusion and… to Melinda's shock… intelligence. He blinked once and then his eyelids closed again.

Melinda took a step forward, once again emboldened from something she wasn't sure she'd had up until then. She moved cautiously towards the creature and half crouched next to him, touching his arm. He didn't move. Didn't recoil. Didn't even twitch.

She let her eyes roam over him again. She just couldn't get used to him. How could anyone ever just get used to such an impossible thing? One of his mask tails had flopped over his shoulder, and was laying on the yellow armor plating on his front, it was torn and the side of it stained with something dark. She frowned but didn't dare move closer to look. One of the creature's arm was sprawled over his stomach, the other was twisted at such an odd angle that Melinda felt her insides twist and her stomach lurch. It was obviously broken and in need of medical care. He had a few scrapes and bruises, there was a gash on his thigh that needed tending to. Melinda felt pity twist her heart. She couldn't just leave this poor thing out here alone when it was obviously hurt and in need of help. But she couldn't call the authorities either. She knew they'd get one look at this poor giant turtle and it would either be put on display at the zoo – or become the victim of a dissection table with the body being stuffed, mounted, and put on display in a museum when they had finished ripping him apart. Animal lover or not – Melinda wasn't cruel. She bit her lip, thinking hard for a minute.

Melinda sat there for a long time. She wasn't sure how long but she felt her ankles going numb from the loss of circulation as she sat on her knees on the cold cement. Finally she knew that she couldn't leave this poor thing out here alone. It was getting late and cold, and he was hurt. "Don't worry," she said quietly as her fingers brushed his bicep, and her eyes widened slightly at the now clearly defined muscles there. "I'll help you."