A/N: Hey everyone. Again I apologize for last week. That weekend was a nightmare with me working 14 hour days for inventory and then getting very sick. I really wasn't up to it and this week has been just as busy. And on top of that my own computer crashed. I have a backup copy of my story and I will continue to work on new chapters as often as I can. I have the next few chapters done which should allow me to keep posting until after Christmas. I decided to go ahead and post this new chapter today because I have a lot of work to do this weekend for company presents. Cooking three kinds of cookies, fudge, and white chocolate covered popcorn for company gifts will take up most of my weekend and I didn't want to skip on another week with no updates. But I didn't think I'd have time later this weekend, so best to do it now while I was thinking about it. Thank you again for those who take the time to review. I will always update when I have the time - which is always the weekends, weekdays are too busy. Enjoy the rest of your weekend guys and I'll be back next week.

Chapter 3

Clues

"Ya sure dis is da place, Don," Raph growled as he glared down at the empty alley below them, crouching, one foot on top of the ledge of the building. His amber eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Why would Mikey come all da way over 'ere when da convention is an hour away on foot?"

"This is where his Shell Cell signal went offline, Raph," Don snapped impatiently. Worry for his younger brother making his tone unnaturally sharp. He too had been wondering the same thing. Why would Michelangelo come clear out here? This part of town wasn't on the way back to the lair. The quickest and easiest access was through the park, the lair wasn't far from Central Park. But out here... way out here... it would take Michelangelo out of the way of the lair and out of the way of his brothers. What could have happened that would have driven Michelangelo to come out this way when it was so far from home - and so far from help? Was he trying to lead someone away from their lair? Alone? The thought made Donatello's blood go icy cold. Michelangelo could be a pain in the shell sometimes. Always excited over shiny buttons and colorful chemicals that Donatello had in his lab. He often had to throw Michelangelo out before he could make something explode and cause serious damage to the lair itself because of his curiosity.

But the thought of Michelangelo being out here alone, chased by Purple Dragons or by the Foot - alone. Without the aid of his brothers... while they had all been at home, oblivious to the fact that their youngest brother was in trouble sent chills up and down Donatello's spine. If something had happened to his little brother... Mikey was the only little brother he had. They just had to get him back. "If" wasn't an option. They would get their brother back. Michelangelo was family. They would never give up on him.

Donatello's chocolate brown eyes scanned the alleyway desperately, searching for some sign of their missing younger brother. But, like Raphael, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The dumpsters below were overflowing with rotting garbage that wouldn't be taken away for another few days, the stench reaching them even up here on the roof, making him wrinkle his beak in disgust and he breathed through his mouth instead, making the smell more bearable. There was some graffiti on the walls, various street gangs leaving their marks, but nothing unfamiliar to the sights of native New Yorkers like he and his brothers were. Graffiti was everywhere. There were also a few cardboard boxes stacked in the far corner of the alley, not shaped in the way of a shelter like there were in some alleys that homed the homeless people who huddled away where no one would see them in the dark corners of these lonely alleys. These ones were just sadly piled up, waiting like the dumpster for the garbage truck to come take them away. The only thing that did seem off about the dark alley was the large stain of something that someone had spilled. It was probably a bottle of soda or a garbage sack that had popped open and had spilled liquid all over. It seemed insignificant, and like Raphael, Donatello wondered if they should keep looking else where for their brother.

"I don't see da chucklehead." Raph said with a snort of disgust from lack of results. "How do we know dat da chucklehead's phone didn't jus' malfunction an' he's at 'ome right now playin' dem video games an' fergot ta call while we're out 'ere like a bunch o' idiots searchin' fer 'im?"

Next to him Leonardo shifted his weight, ignoring his two younger brothers as his own dark eyes scanned the alley, seeing nothing that his brothers hadn't already seen. His dark brown eyes narrowed as a chill ran down his shell. His big brother senses, the one that always seemed to know when his brothers were in trouble, when they needed him. The one that kept his senses sharp and alert during battle, the one that always strived to make sure that no matter what they were facing, no matter what the consequences were to himself, the one that always strive to make sure his brothers were safe, the same one was alerting him to something now. Something that told him Michelangelo had been here, that he had come here for a reason, although like his brothers he didn't know what that reason would be. But he had a feeling that Michelangelo needed them. And that he wasn't far away.

Turning away from the edge of the roof with another snort of disgust Raphael headed back across the roof in the direction they'd come. "I say we go 'ome an' pound da chucklehead fer not callin'."

Leo's sharp eyes roamed away from the alley and over the surrounding rooftops, and narrowed when he spotted the crumbling bricks on the building across from this one. Not that that was unusual with these older buildings. These buildings were old and time and the elements often made the edges of these older buildings unstable. If a janitor was up there working it could have easily given way but still given him enough time to step back as the bricks crumbled and dust and chips fell to the alley below. But Leonardo couldn't help but feel that something was off here. There was something not right. He had a feeling it wasn't a janitor that had made those bricks crumble. He continued to glare at it, still ignoring Raphael's sharp remarks about how Michelangelo was playing them all for a fool and Leo was falling right into his joke if he kept searching for him.

And then as the wind blew past them a flash of color had Leonardo's eyes widening. "Raph, wait."

"Fer what, fearless?" Raph asked eyes narrowed at his older brother, chest puffing out in a rebellious gesture that told Leonardo he was ready to argue, ready to pick a fight, trying anyway he could to hide the fear that shared with Leonardo. The fear that Michelangelo was alone, hurt alone and bleeding out somewhere without the aid of his brothers. Or that he'd been taken by someone or several someones to places unknown.

Irritation rose within Leonardo's chest at his brother's tone but he forced it down with an effort and without a second thought he leapt for the next building, making sure to distance himself upon landing far enough away from the unstable bricks that seemed ready to give way under anymore weight that might rest upon them. He turned and headed back for the edge, hearing. He didn't hear Raphael's complaining anymore, or Donatello's logical explanations of what could have happened with the shell cell that could possibly make it malfunction in a way that Michelangelo's signal would have just stopped and died here, such as accidentally dropping it in a puddle or it falling as Michelangelo ran and him not noticing that he didn't have it until he got home. Leonardo knew Michelangelo was often careless and his phone was broken almost as much as Raphael's, but Michelangelo, if he had broken the shell or realized it was missing, would have come back for it, apologizing to Donatello with the sad remains. The fact that he hadn't... told Leonardo that Michelangelo had not been able to get to his phone... or that someone had taken it from him and broken it themselves. Either was not at all a welcome thought for the oldest turtle.

As Leonardo crouched to examine the crumbling bricks, running his fingers over the rough edges he heard the twin thumps that announced his two brothers joining him on the building. He frowned as his fingers felt the flaky, but not unfamiliar texture of dry blood. The flaky substance rubbed off on his fingers and he brushed it off with his thumb, the small brown flakes drifting off his fingers and to the rooftop next to his feet.

"What is it, Leo?" Raph asked stepping closer.

Leo rubbed the last of the dry blood off his fingers, straightening. "Something happened here, Raph."

"Like what?" Raph asked.

Leonardo shook his head. He wasn't at all sure. But he didn't like this. This felt wrong.

"If someone 'urt da chucklehead, I'm gonna... " Raph growled eyes narrowing to mere amber slits as he pulled out his sai and began to scan the rooftop, looking for further clues.

Leonardo ignored Raph's muttered curses, knowing that even though Michelangelo often seemed to really get under Raph's shell. That Raph was the one who always seemed to get the most irritated with his brother. That he would always be goaded into chasing Michelangelo while Michelangelo threw wise cracks at him that would only enrage the red banded turtle further, when it came down to it Michelangelo was still their brother. Their baby brother. And even though he drove them all crazy at times, they loved each other.

Donatello knelt down next to Leonardo examining the bricks himself, running his fingers over the rough edges of the broken bricks, his face grim, and Leonardo knew that he too had discovered what Leonardo himself already knew. It was blood, not a lot but it was blood.

"You're right, Leo," Don said softly, slowly straightening and looking his big brother in the eye. "Something did happen here."

Raph's growl rumbled in his throat. "Mikey?" It wasn't really a question and the others knew it. Michelangelo's shell cell signal had stopped here, the chances of it being unrelated to Michelangelo were slim. "Someone take 'im?"

"There's no way to know that without more clues, Raph," Don said turning to face his red banded brother. Like his brother his eyes scanned the rooftop, looking for other clues, some little something that would be out of place telling them that there had been a fight here. That someone had cornered his brother, that Michelangelo had put up a fight. That he had been carried off. That he hadn't just been left out somewhere, that he hadn't been thrown in someone's dumpster to rot while his brothers sat comfortably at home.

No! Michelangelo had to be ok! He just had to be! Anything else wouldn't be acceptable.

Leonardo's eyes returned to the alley below, his eyes straying to the overflowing dumpster again, his heart tightening in his chest as his own thoughts took the same direction that Donatello's had. The thought of his baby brother, stuffed in a dumpster with all the other trash. Alone. Scared. Or...

Before the conscious thought to examine the alley way more thoroughly really occurred to him Leonardo was flipping off the edge of the roof and landed with barely more than a soft thump below, landing on the balls of his feet, one hand out to help him balance as he landed. He sat like that for half a minute, taking in the sounds around him. The scurry of the frightened alley rats at his sudden appearance, their sharp claws scratching the cement as they ran for cover, scurrying to the furthest corners and hiding in the cardboard boxes. The distant sound of traffic, a few horns honking, but there was no indication that he'd been spotted. No lights flashing on in the windows, no fluttering of drapes. The night was still. He straightened and again scanned the alley, searching his eyes automatically straying towards the dumpster, but froze. The stain seemed larger, darker somehow now that he was closer to it. It didn't look like soda. Or anything else someone would put in a trash bag.

He walked over slowly, almost unwillingly and crouched down, touching the puddle with the tips of his fingers. It was still a little damp, but as he rubbed his fingers together it had the same texture and coppery smell that he had gotten all too familiar with over the years. The smell that made his stomach churn, the smell that made his adrenaline rush through his veins. Suddenly every sense was heightened. If there was one thing that could really make his adrenaline rush through his veins it was blood. His own could do it, but the sight of his brother's blood could do it much faster.

But was this blood Michelangelo's? He needed Donatello for this. It was beyond him. He couldn't tell this blood from a human's who might have gotten into a knife fight with a gang member. But what if it was Michelangelo's? What if something had happened to him like it had happened to Leonardo when they had been fifteen? When Leonardo had gone out for a training run and had been ambushed by the foot, chased across the city with the relentless attacks wearing him down until his muscles shook and his legs threatened to give out on him, protesting the strenuous amount of exercise and abuse that he had taken from the beatings he'd taken. Had the same thing happened to Mikey? No. Leo couldn't bear the thought. No Mikey had to be ok. He had to be!

Anger and fear warred for supremacy as he straightened looking up at the rooftops where he could feel his worried brothers' eyes on him. "Raph, Don," he said it as if they were standing right next to him rather than six stories above him. But he didn't need to speak louder. He knew they would hear him. And within three seconds they were both standing next to him. Leo felt Raph's hand fall on his shoulder, he didn't bother to shrug it off.

"What'd ya find, bro?"

Leo gestured to the puddle. There was too much of it to have dried quickly, and the blood still glinted a little in the faint street lights at the head of the alley. Donatello's eyes narrowed and he walked over to it. Leonardo felt Raphael go tense beside him. They watched as Don walked to the puddle, touching the shiny bit of blood in the middle of the drying puddle. Don rubbed his fingers together, his shoulders stiffening and Leonardo felt his stomach clench tightly.

"It's... I'm not sure if it is Mikey's, Leo." Don said turning. "But it seems a bit thin for human blood."

Raph growled next to Leo's ear.

Leo turned to his red banded brother, forcing the strong older brother, the leader to come out to take control. To force himself to reassure his brothers. To try and convince himself... though he knew that it was a long shot. Still it was all he could do.

"We'll find him, Raph. We will... we won't stop until we bring him home. I promise."

"It's going to be light soon, Leo," Don said as he glanced up at the sky.

Leo nodded his acknowledgement. It would, Don was right. And they should get back and inform Master Splinter of what they had found. Though he felt as if he was letting their father down by knowing so little answers that only led to more questions.

"So we're jus' gonna go 'ome without 'im?"

"Raph, we don't have a choice! We can't stay out here - it'll be dawn in twenty minutes. What good will we be to Mikey if we get captured too? What will that do to Splinter if we never come home?"

"He could be in da 'ands of a lunatic who's tryin' ta cut 'im up right now!"

Raph struck a cord and he knew it, Leonardo looked torn as his face went a little gray.

"We... could ask April and Casey to look for him... search for more clues we might have missed," Donatello said quietly, he too looked a little shaky and sick from the thought of Michelangelo being bound and cut apart piece by piece by a scientist. "I'll do some research, look into scientific journals, break into the biggest labs security surveillance systems. If he is at a lab, we'll find out pretty quickly and we'll get him out."

Raph hesitated, but knew Donatello had a good point. He could search through the security systems through his computer faster than Raph could on foot.

Leonardo squeeze Raphael's shoulder this time, drawing his amber eyes back to Leonardo's dark brown ones. "We'll call April and Casey. You know they'll look for him until we can come back out again. Don will do research at home. I promise, Raphael, we will find him. We will bring him home.

Raph grasped Leonardo's arm, squeezing it back. "I know, bro. I know."

April Jones was used to late night phone calls, or even the crack of dawn phone calls. Or any other kind of phone calls most people would have been irritated with. It was just one of the things that came from the privilege of having the turtles in her life. One that she wouldn't trade for anything. At first when she'd met the turtles they had seemed strange, and she'd been wary. Michelangelo had been so over enthusiastic... excited about knowing her. And when they had bummed at her apartment while the foot soldiers had been storming the sewers she had found her home quite claustrophobic. It really was too small for four turtles, one rat and one human. But when the turtles had opened up their home with her when they'd returned to New York after the horrible day where Leonardo had nearly lost his life April's bonds with the turtles had strengthened into an unbreakable bond that stay strong for the rest of their lives.

She had seen many changes in the turtles, and had come to look at them all as the younger brothers she had never had. It had even been through the turtles that she'd met her husband. Casey. Though he could be impulsive and reckless at times, and if it hadn't been for the turtles she never would have dreamed herself with a such a man, but she knew she was very lucky. And over the last few years she was very happy for the red banded turtle in particular. His relationship with Elizabeth seemed to be growing, and he himself had changed. He seemed to keep a better hold on his temper, his self control had never been better and he had taken the role as parent to Elizabeth's daughter to heart, as if he weren't her adoptive parent, but she really was his own. She was thrilled for Raphael. She had known that the turtles would probably never have the chance to find someone like Elizabeth. The thought of someone looking past their green skin and shells seemed almost impossible. But Elizabeth was a kind soul, one that didn't look at the turtles with compassion and pity, but with look of pure love and joy, and honor at being able to know them. The same feelings that April and Casey felt towards their green friends. April and Elizabeth had formed a tight friendship over the last few years and April fondly looked at Akemi as her adopted niece, the thought bringing a smile to her face, remembering the day at the hospital. Elizabeth had been terrified, squeezing the red head's hand as the doctor had ordered her to push. And then... as if by some miracle Akemi had been there. Dark curls plastered to her head, screaming at the top of her lungs. Elizabeth had leaned back against her pillows exhausted, panting, face covered in sweat, but she had the glow of a proud mother. After that... Elizabeth had really taken a liking to April and the women often enjoyed each other's company while the guys, with Casey, went out on patrol.

April fumbled around in the dark, reaching for the phone that was ringing on her bedside table, her fingers finally finding the small object she desired and she flipped it open. Leonardo's name was flashing across the screen and April found her mouth pulling down into a frown. Considering the time of day, and who it was this wasn't good. If it had something to do with something technological it would have been Donatello calling her, or even an invitation down to the lair it would be Michelangelo sounding over enthusiastic and breathless with excitement as always. If it was Raphael wanting to hang out with Casey he would call Casey directly. Trouble calls came from Leonardo. April was immediately awake and sat up answering the call. "Leonardo?"

"April, have you seen Michelangelo?"

"Mikey? No I haven't."

She could almost feel Leonardo's anxiety on the other side of the phone. "Leonardo, what is it?"

"He's missing. He went to a comic convention and never came home. His shell cell isn't transmitting - we traced it back to where it malfunctioned. But he isn't there."

"Do you guys have any idea on what could have happened?" April swung her legs off the bed, grabbing her robe and slippers. Heading for the bathroom so as not to wake Casey.

"No, the only thing we found... " Leo trailed off as if not sure he should tell her.

"What?" April asked impatiently.

"Blood, April. There was blood in the alley. And a lot of it."

April felt her breath catch in his throat. Mikey. Oh no! Not Mikey! April couldn't bear the thought of something happening to the youngest turtle. His bright blue eyes swimming with excitement about the newest video game or comic book finally being released, his enthusiasm over a pizza she and Casey brought down. He had always seemed the most innocent, the most light hearted of the turtles. For someone to hurt him made April feel sick.

"April? You there?"

April started, realizing Leonardo had kept talking while she'd been sinking into a pool of horror for the youngest turtle. "Yeah, sorry, Leo. What was that?"

She heard him draw a sharp breath. "Can you and Casey keep looking? It's getting too dangerous for us to stay out here - it'll be light soon. Don wants to go back and do some research into some scientific labs, see if he can find anything on the video surveillance there and maybe into the foot headquarters too."

"Of course, Leo. I'll get Casey up - we'll start looking right away. Where are you guys?"

Leo gave her the address to where they had found what few clues they had and then with a quick. "Thanks, April," there was a click and he ended the call.

April sat on the edge of the toilet for a minute holding the quiet cell phone in her hand, her fingers trembling around the casing. Then she got up and hurried back to the bedroom, they just had to find Michelangelo. The thought of never seeing him again was not acceptable.