A/N: I still don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Last chapter, I feel like it jumped around a lot, though more places and people wise than time. Thank you to all you invisible readers, those who have followed or favorited this piece, or even the ones that shrugged and said "Eh. I'll take a gander." I salute your choices and commend you on sitting through my little story and taking what I have to offer. I do however long for feedback. Perhaps it is the attention monger buried deep inside my soul, but I find feedback to be motivating and insightful.

Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.

Cataclysm

Chapter 3

Baxter J. Stockman wondered where his life had taken such a turn. Here he was a renowned scientist and brilliant businessmen, reduced to squatting in an abandoned warehouse, filled with stolen equipment, as a sort of quasi lab, while working for New York's most notorious crime lord. Did he mention that said crime lord's biggest problem happened to be four mutant turtles that practiced ninjitsu?

While the fact that there were four mutants meandering about New York fascinated him and warranted some looking into, he hadn't quite envisioned it to be like, he paused in his train of thought staring down at the half eaten carcass of a small infantile mutant turtle in disgust, this.

Hun, a bulky six foot blonde with a military haircut, loomed behind him even as he leant against a wall. Baxter fought the urge to scowl at the brute. "Find anything?" Hun inquired gruffly, wiggling a smart phone in Baxter's direction to indicate the Shredder was awaiting any helpful news.

"Nothing useful." He answered, turning his attention back to the subject while Hun placed his call.

He had long since discovered that most of the internal organs had been picked out of the body. A single punctured lung had remained, and from the lung he had discovered the creature had most likely drowned. He had also determined that the mutant had been a male, that its blood was identical to a human's and its blood type had been O+.

Not much else could be determined from the body, it had been dead far too long to determine anything of importance regarding the four larger and infinitely more dangerous specimens that gallivanted about New York thwarting the foot clan at every turn.

Baxter pushed the sterile tray away and pulled the surgical mask down to hang around his neck as he stalked away from the thing lying on the tray. Because really, he could be accomplishing so much more with his time.

Chief Sterns peered around the small apartment owned by one April O'Neil, eyes roving over to the stooped figure of his ME over her coworker's body.

"Well." The middle aged man exclaimed, straightening with a crack of his back, "Body is about forty eight hours old by my estimation. Cause of death is obvious, single gunshot wound to the head."

The Chief considered the wall as an officer emerged from the small bedroom at the end of the hall. Large and small square shaped blank spaces were intermittent throughout the dried blood spatter, as if someone had removed something from the wall after killing Vernon Fenwick. "Hey, Chief." Officer Wiggs called to him from where he stood in the bedroom door. Sterns glanced at him before striding over, brow furrowed. "Those spaces that interrupted the spatter, I think I know what caused them."

Stepping into the sparsely furnished bedroom his eyes immediately caught sight of what looked like a story board of events, all focused around an international story that April O'Neil had probably pitched to her boss weeks ago, the layout strikingly familiar to the spaces on the wall in the living room. "Looks like someone didn't like her newest story." Wiggs stated.

"Good job Wiggs" He clapped the officer on the shoulder, "Jefferson!" He barked striding from the room.

A tall muscular man in a collared shirt and a badge hanging around his neck blinked at him from around the alcove leading into the kitchen. "Yeah Boss?"

"You're heading this case." He stated, emphasizing his point by jabbing a meaty forefinger at the man, "I want to be kept updated on this particular situation." He said his voice lowering as he stood toe to toe with the detective. Jefferson gave him an inquisitive look, "It may be connected to that cold case, you know the one." He continued offhandedly, 'make sure it doesn't come back to us' went unsaid but understood. "Put out an APB on O'Neil while you're at it." Jefferson's eyes narrowed in understanding as he saluted; disappearing back into the Kitchenette, fingers already dialing the precincts familiar number.

Chief allowed a grimace to steal across his face, guilt worming its way into his gut. He strode out of the apartment quickly and once in his car he tugged out his cell phone and held three. It rang once, twice and then was answered by a gruff sounding Bernie Thompson, "What do you want, now?"

Chief Sterns swallowed his guilt at his part to play in this, and sneered, "Fenwick's dead." He stated simply. No sense beating around it. A sharp intake of breath was his initial response.

"What?"

"Found him dead in O'Neil's apartment, been there for a few days." He continued, other unoccupied hand gripping the steering wheel absently.

"W-What?" Came the bewildered question again.

"That's about the time when O'Neil was last seen, they have any bad blood between them?" Sterns pushed, ignoring the way his stomach seemed to be trying to crawl up his throat, ignoring the constricting feeling in his chest for what he was about to do, for the criminal who's tracks he was about to cover up. But he had a wife and two kids to think about and his resolve hardened.

It had been a few days since April had woken up in Leatherhead's care. April huffed as she rolled another large piece of rubble away from a small arching doorway, careful to keep her toes out from underneath it after one too many close calls. Leatherhead sat in his usual spot, tinkering with his large gadget and ignoring April's presence for the most part. This would be the last piece she would move she reasoned, stomach grumbling and sweat trickling down her brow.

With a final push the piece toppled with a loud clattering thunk against the cement floor. She turned, hands fisted on her hips, catching her breath eyeing the pile of rubble she'd painstakingly hefted out of her way. She shifted to peer into the half collapsed upper level. She could spy a dented stove and a splintered table amongst it and what appeared to be a fridge lay behind a large slab of cement that she wasn't sure even Leatherhead could move.

Turning her gaze back to the small arching doorway she took another deep breath and meandered cautiously into what looked like a small bathroom. A toilet was tucked against the back wall next to an old claw foot tub. A small sink, fashioned out of an old pedestal sink and some exposed pipes, sat on the opposite wall.

She cautiously entered the room, eyes adjusting to the flickering light. She jumped as she passed the sink; Whirling about with her hands clutched to her chest. She let out her breath shakily; it was her reflection in a broken lopsided mirror above the sink. She leaned in studying her new features in horrified amazement.

Her nose was gone, as were her lips, as she had surmised from her earlier exploration of her face, in their place was a rounded beak and some nose slits, her eyes were the same color and shape, and her bone structure seemed unchanged. She ran a three fingered hand over her smooth scalp and, frowned once again, at the loss of her hair. "I look like Ralph Fiennes in that Harry Potter movie…" she whimpered, eyes starting to burn in frustration at the impossibility of her situation.

She twisted to take a look at her shell, a medium brown with a mottling of thin tan lines bursting outwards like a child's drawing of a sun. Her eyes started watering as she crossed her arms over her chest and she turned resolutely away from the mirror, angrily scrubbing at her eyes to check the functionality of the tub.

She twisted the knobs experimentally, a wavering smile making its way to her face when hot water came out of a rigged shower head above the tub. She allowed herself to walk back out of the bathroom, ignoring the reflection in the mirror as she did so and focusing instead on her growling stomach.

She trotted out towards the old dented icebox and peered into it sucking on her teeth in thought. Leatherhead, she had noticed, hated being distracted when he was working on his device. Thankfully he'd yet to lose his patience completely. She glanced at the large broad back of her host in thought for a moment. "Leatherhead?" She inquired still sounding a little shakier than normal. She cleared her throat.

He turned around, a small hissing breath escaping him as he eyed her. "April?" he inquired back, his tone hinting at mild aggravation.

She let loose a soft breath and smiled sheepishly as her stomach let loose another growl, more aware of how awkwardly her facial muscles moved. "Do you have any food stashed away around here?" She inquired softly, as he stood at his full imposing height, stuffing a wrench in the pocket of an oversized, tattered lab coat.

"Nothing in the freezer?" He inquired, she shook her head and he made another disgruntled noise "Then we are out." He intoned solemnly, irritation melting away as he observed her. Her arms were crossed across her stomach defensively; eyes just a little puffy and her shoulders slumped. "I suppose I could go get something." he twisted his wrist and tilted his massive head to the side gazing at a wrist watch that was secured to his wrist with what looked like a hemp bracelet. "It's evening."

She blinked at him for a moment as he turned his shuffling gait towards the sewer entrance, half blocked by rubble to disguise it. "Wait!" She called trotting to catch up with him. "Can I come with you?" She inquired, desperate for some fresh air, a glimpse of the city.

He turned to consider her for a moment before shrugging and nodding his consent. She beamed at him and followed after the larger mutant.

"Get ready to have your butt handed to you, Bro." Mikey crowed, remote in one hand and game controller in the other.

"Yea right." Raph replied with a smirk, flopping back onto the old worn couch, "Maybe if we were playing Super Smash, but this Nazi Zombies. I rock at this game."

Mikey scoffed, turning the television on and promptly froze. He blinked at the large Television screen on the lair wall at a young, blonde reporter, "Woah she's new." A goofy smile broke out across his face, "What a babe!"

Raphael grunted from his sprawled position on the couch, mask loose and draped around his neck and a curious frown pulling at his face. "Hey turn the volume up." He demanded, tossing a pillow at Mikey to emphasize his demand.

Mikey jerked, paying the pillow little attention, and rapidly mashed the volume button until her voice filled the room, "-Fenwick. Mr. Fenwick was found by police in Ms. O'Neil's apartment late this afternoon, with Ms. O'Neil nowhere to be found."

A picture of April O'Neil faded into the corner of the screen, Leo stuck his head out from the dojo, "Hey, Mikey, turn that down!"

Mikey and Raph shushed him in unison, "If you have seen or know the whereabouts of Ms. O'Neil please call the number on the screen." The newscaster continued, smile stretching in a plastic sort of way. Leo stomped out of the Dojo, snatching the remote from his younger brother. "Now, to Bob with the Weather. Bob?"

Leo Pushed mute. "O'Neil? Isn't that the reporter Mikey's always making kissy faces at?" Raph inquired, a leer stretching across his face as he eyed his younger brother.

"You're just Jealous of our relationship, Bro." Mikey retorted.

"She's outta your league." Raph shot back with an eye roll. Leo frowned between the two of them

Donny ducked into the living room curiously, "Hey you guys hear about that reporter that's suspected of murdering her colleague?" Headphones hung around his neck, and a laptop cradled in his arms.

"What?" Mikey wailed, whirling to face Donny. "She'd never do anything like that!" He protested tossing his controller at Raph, "She's nice and funny-"

"Well the police seem to think that she did it." Donny interjected a thoughtful frown on his face. He made his way over to the couch, settling his laptop on the coffee table as he sat.

Leo hummed, "If the police are after her they must have found some evidence-"

Mikey crossed his arms across his chest grumpily, "Evidence shmevidence."

Raph leaned forward curiosity shining through, "Hey Donny think you can get us a look at the photos?"

"That's highly illegal!" Leo squawked, his purple masked brother quickly ticking away at his keyboard. "And against our moral-"

Donny snorted, "Done."

Mikey scurried to peer over his brother's shoulder as Raph shouldered up on the other side. "Oh sick, bro." Mikey complained face scrunching up even as he leaned in closer.

"That's an execution." Donny stated bluntly, looking a fair bit paler than he normally did as Raph clicked through the crime scene photos.

Leo frowned as he reluctantly made his way over to take a look, "That looks more like a gang related killing."

"Hey what's that?" Raph inquired jabbing his finger at the screen causing it to discolor until Donny swatted his finger away. The four brothers peered at the screen, a keychain lay under the desk, a small barely distinguishable purple dragon etched into the tear drop shaped leather tab.

Three sets of eyes turned to Leo and the eldest brother sighed in a resigned sort of way. "We're only going for a quick look." He finally relented, refraining from rolling his eyes as Mikey whooped and ran to the Dojo for his weapons.

Their outing had been successful and April was sure if she had lips they'd be pursed. They had managed to find a small supermarket that had left its loading dock unsecured and had taken a few weeks' worth of canned food from it. Her hunger had overridden her guilt at the time, but it was making a rather spectacular come back. She stared down at the large double layered paper bag in her hands and then glanced through the dim lighting at Leatherhead's back.

Logically, it was almost impossible for them to fend for themselves without breaking a few laws. But April still felt rather guilty for stealing; she'd only stolen once before in her life.

She bit back a sigh as Leatherhead came to a rather abrupt stop a rattling hiss that sounded far more threatening than any noises he'd made thus far, echoed through the tunnels, "We're being followed." He hissed, tail lashing angrily and April stumbled back to avoid it, the bag tore at the corner in the process. She fumbled to catch the bottom of the They stood in relative silence for a few moments; a high pitched whistling sound caught her attention.

"Leather-" He hissed at her cutting her off.

He turned, dropping his own bag with a clatter, and grabbed hold of her. She froze at the dangerous snarl that adorned his face as he tugged her in front of him and threw them both into an alcove. The whistling growing in volume, ringing through the tunnels.

"The Hunter." He rattled as an explosion sounded from deeper in the tunnels. Her hands bunched the paper bag in fright. Her mind barely registering that the food had already fallen out of the bottom as a second explosion rocked the sewers. He laid a clawed hand atop her head, gazing at her in the unreadable way he did, "I'll hold him off. I need you to run April." The request was gentle despite the raspy hissing that underlay it.

"The Hunter? What Hunter? What about you?" She blinked fearfully up at him as a colorful string of curses echoed down the tunnel towards them. Her hands had dropped the bag and instead fisted around one of the sleeves of his lab coat.

He let out a hissing laugh, "I will be fine. My hide is thick, yours is not." He gently removed her fingers and slipped back out into the tunnel, letting loose a deafening roar. April darted out into the tunnel, freezing as she caught sight of Leatherhead's hulking form tower over a dark haired wiry man with a rifle pressed into his shoulder. His dark eyes fastened on her and his finger squeezed the trigger. The last thing April was aware of was a white hot pain shooting through her shoulder and an enraged roar as the world tilted, tunneled and went black.

Leo stared down at the appendage in shock. The watch that was still fastened about the wrist beeped. Leo blinked and turned away, stomach churning as he took in his brother's similarly flabbergasted expressions.

They had been on their way back from investigating the crime scene, finger print dust and dried blood had been all over the living room, Donny had scanned as many finger prints as he could with one of his newest gadgets, easily surmising that there had been at least five sets in the small apartment.

"The things people throw away." Mikey stated, tone half joking yet wavering in discomfort.

Raph quickly caught onto their youngest brother's discomfort. Mikey usually reverted to joking in order to cope. "Yea, Televisions, video games, perfectly good arms." He drawled, shifting so he was no longer facing the limb.

"Who." Leo started and stopped himself, shaking his head as he frowned around at the scorched walls and blood spatter.

"Maybe the foot clan?" Mikey suggested hesitantly.

Leo shook his head, "No too messy. This was done by someone else."

Donny squatted a ways away examining something on the sewer floor, "Or something." He muttered, the sound carrying back to his brothers through the tunnel easily. A series of clawed footprints, which started in a disturbingly large puddle of blood, lead further into the sewers.

There was blood everywhere, not all of it was his. Most of it belonged to the hunter he had dismembered after the human had shot April.

April. He glanced down with an agitated hiss at the slumped girl, a sickly pale shade of green instead of the healthy darker shade she normally sported. Red, red blood slowly staining the lab coat that he had wrapped tightly over the wound. He hurried through the doorway into their home, and he nearly paused at that thought. When had it become 'they' instead of 'he', when had it become a home instead of a sanctuary.

He glanced down at the younger mutant, huffing as he gently laid her out on the pile of sheets and blankets he'd procured from various places. He pressed against the wound firmly; mind moving a mile a minute.

The rifle had been equipped with High heat plasma rounds, unfortunately not hot enough to cauterize the wound as it went through her shoulder, at least not completely. He surmised it was because the rounds weren't entirely compatible with the weapon they were fired from.

"April?" He hissed, blood seeping through his fingers and he rattled a desperate breath. He knew that without medical help she would most likely die. She was too young to pass away, too vibrant, too- He stopped, inhaling and swallowing thickly nostrils filling with the coppery scent of her blood. "Too important." He rasped out, his other hand stroking her smooth head trying to make her wake. To just open her eyes.

"Lucy I'm Home!" He snapped upwards, whirling to face the audacious intruder. A loud rumbling growl echoing in the cavernous room.

"Mikey!" A second deeper timber reprimanded the first. There were four Mutant Turtles, larger and broader than April, heavily muscled and armed with traditional martial arts weaponry. Each was adorned with a different colored mask. One Blue masked turtle with a set of Katanas glowered at a sheepish looking turtle in an orange mask, presumably Mikey. Mikey's hands were clasped on the ends of a set of nunchucks.

"Sorry." He shrugged, not sounding a bit sorry. The turtle to his left rolled his eyes behind a tattered red mask as he muttered something in Japanese and swatted at Mikey's head.

Mikey opened his mouth, offense crinkling his face "Nu-uh! Your mom's-"

"That would make her your mom too." The last turtle interrupted, sounding rather annoyed, his bow staff held securely in his hands and eyes peering out from behind a purple mask.

Leatherhead knew his bulky frame could shield April's tiny form, but not if all four decided to attack him at once. He let loose another warning growl as they seemed to reign in their bickering, expressions sobering. "Who are you?" He demanded, hands curling into fists, "What do you want from us?"

"We could ask you the same question!" The red masked turtle stated harshly in a shockingly thick Brooklyn accent, pointing the tip of his sai at Leatherhead.

"We found a few body parts lying around the sewer earlier." The blue masked turtle stated, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Leatherhead's blood covered hands, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Leatherhead bristled, jaws snapping in agitation. "The Hunter attacked us first!"

"Us?" the purple masked turtle inquired, blinking up at him in confusion. Leatherhead shuffled nervously in front of April, keeping an ear out for her shallow breaths. The other turtles were now craning their necks to peer behind him.

Leatherhead felt his anger and caution give way to desperation. "She needs help." He stepped to the side revealing April's prone pale form to the four male turtles, eyes firmly assessing their reactions. "The Hunter shot her." He explained as he observed the looks of shock that had dropped over the faces of the intruders.

"Is that?" Mikey inquired, skipping forward a step and unconsciously tucking his nunchucks away. His blue eyes wide with disbelief. "Donny?!" He turned to his purple masked companion in confused excitement.

Donny nodded, slowly tucking his own weapon away, "I see her Mikey." He took a cautious step forward, "My Name's Donatello. These are my brothers Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael. I think we can help your friend." He said soothingly, eyes flickering from Leatherhead to the prone form of the girl behind him. "May I?" Leatherhead nodded his massive head keeping a critical eye on the other turtles as they reluctantly tucked their weapons away.

Donny swallowed thickly, pressing his fingers to her wrist. He grimaced her pulse was thready and weak. He eyed her critically, a blood soaked rag was wrapped around her shoulder, and her skin was a pale green that he'd only seen on Raph once when he had been very sick.

"Well?" The closeness of Leatherhead's gravelly timbre nearly made Donny jump. "Can you help her?"

Donny's mouth thinned into a slim line "She's in shock, lost a lot of blood. We'll have to move her to a more secure location." He stated quietly, peering over his shoulder at the massive mutant.

Leatherhead let out a rattling hiss at his admission. "Where?"

"I have everything I need at the lair," He paused, eyes drifting back down to the girl. "Our home."

Leatherhead's rattle of displeasure echoed around them, his tail thumping on the concrete ground. "I'm coming too."

A/N: The plot thickens! Murder, mutants, Police corruption!

I was kind of hoping to keep them from discovering April until further down the road, but it just seemed to spiral away from that (as stories are want to do sometimes). Ah well. I had this chapter half done and sitting in my docs folder, figured I'd finish it up and post it instead of having it stare at me balefully every time I click on a piece for my college course instead of it. Poor neglected Cataclysm.

Thanks again my lovely readers! If you feel the urge please do review. I always welcome constructive criticism. :)