A/N: Alright. I'm ready for this baby to be out of my hair. I'll be wrapping it up by Christmas. :)

Sciencegirl, when you say Hunny-Bear, I think of Mulan and "Let's go kick some Hunny Buns!" XD

Chapter 43: Kinks

An unseen hand kept Donatello on Oswald lab's floor, and he could do little to shield Melody from it. Chi wasn't something that could be blocked physically. Only Nia could quell it. But considering how the artist rumbled into her tucked knees—her IgRs lighting up the intravenous lines like shooting stars—he doubted she had the mindset to calm herself.

'I—it's almost impossible to breathe and so hot,' Don thought while tucking his wife's head further under his arm. He hissed when a stray scalpel from a desk overhead nicked him and he fought another lightheaded wave when his dry eyes settled on the fried cardiograph that had once monitored Splinter's heart. 'It skyrocketed. Now he's still. This isn't good.'

"L—let go, Damn Mechanic. We—we—we need to"—Melody gasped, her form tense below her husband—"to restart his—his…heart."

"Get any closer, we won't be able to do the same with you," Donny countered with a frown.

"The backup you installed—"

"Isn't long-term. And as soon as Splinter and Nia are stable, you're next."

"Don—"

The genius pulled his wife back when she outstretched a hand towards the whirlwind ahead. "You did your part, Mel. Now let us do ours."

Melody lacked the strength to back up her protest, and the couple knew it. So, lifting his gaze, Donatello sought his friends. April lay beside an overturned swivel chair, unconscious from the first attempt to administer the Diazepam. The red-orange hair whipping across her face nearly shielded its pale skin, but Don noted a thick blood trail coating her nose from where Leatherhead's tail had knocked her over.

Great. Now, where was said croc? Don found the massive mutant braving Nia's push with clenched fists, a snarl at his snout, and white eyes.

"This isn't a war zone, LH!" the genius cried. He licked his salty lips when the Leatherhead growled, and—despite the severe Paresthesia and heat that stiffened his joints—lifted his upper torso off the ground. "We're helping Sensei, remember? Th—this isn't Bishop's lab. This isn't a test!"

LH would disagree. Much like Nia would right now. But words were all Donny had left, so he filled them with desperation.

"The Diazepam is in April's hand. Y—you have to get it to Nia."

Leatherhead's tale whipped in response, vaulting the fallen chair by April into a wall. Lowly, he snarled then bared his teeth at the human huddled around the dead power cell.

"Leatherhead, please!" Don's voice cracked as he failed to stand. "That's my family! Y—you're the only one strong enough to stand. So please, please get the fucking Diazepam!"

A curse—that's what reawakened life in Leatherhead's eyes. In a blink, black irises replaced the white, their pupils searching the room for whoever had jolted his conscience. They landed, wide, on the Bō master, except his shot tolerance level tossed out all niceties.

"Diazepam, now!"

Leatherhead turned to where his friend pointed at his feet. He stared at April then bent to retrieve the syringe in her snug grasp. Finally, the croc mutant moved forward with the right mindset, and Donatello watched him approach Nia's saline intravenous line to add the drugs.

Time felt slow as the IgRs decreased. One by one, their lights extinguished—from Splinter's relaxed form, through the plastic tubes, to Nia. The artist gaped for air at their deaths, her head lolling against the chair's headrest. It looked painful when she convulsed, and Donatello's chest ached to see tears streaming down her glowing face.

By the time he could sit, the IgRs only lingered in the blood vessels of Nia's upturned eyes. They gathered into her left one before their light expanded like a super nova star. Rather than explode, though, they faded gently until her eyelids closed.

"Leatherhead," Don started.

However, the croc mutant was already checking the human's pulse, his thick brow creased. "Her heart rate's steadying."

"And S—Sensei?" The genius choked on his question, ready to hurl should their whole plan have been for naught. He helped Melody stand while LH surveyed the mutant rat and directed her to April's side despite her silent protests.

"D—Donatello," Leatherhead said over the cyborg's murmur.

Such a bleak tone almost prevented Don from turning; he couldn't handle another kink in their path. But he did anyway—out of pure dreadful curiosity, and what greeted him left his jaw slack.

"You sure this is alright, Blaine? We're not even five blocks from the bridge."

Blaine's vision glossed over a neon turtle sign twirling atop a slender building then tightened his grip on the sniffling blonde in his arms. Without a look over his shoulder to see if Damien followed him through the narrow back alley, he said, "This is the location Raphael gave me."

"But weren't you taking Kaiya away from the police?" the ex-gangster added, his voice faint. "The bus hit Oswald not long ago. Won't they—"

Blaine whirled—a sudden, intimidating action that placed him face-to-face with Damien. "Either way, Donatello and the others need to exit that lab. Undetected. We'll make sure they do, and they'll take Kai with her."

"Is that better than her meeting her mom?"

"With the EPF about? Yes."

"Wh—what about the other kid you were trying to take with us?"

"Jakob?" The boy's name hitched in Blaine's throat, choking him with terrified imagines of his wide, blue eyes. "H—he'll have to wait for his father."

"What about his brother?"

"A parent should pick him up. Besides I…I need Sven focused on getting Hugh out first, especially since Michelangelo bailed."

Was that unjust? Sven was the only one capable of bypassing EPF security. Unless Donatello decided to join their group. 'That's even if he's done—'

"Blaine?"

Speak of the devil. Turning, Blaine met a pair of bloodshot eyes. They were surprisingly close, like the mutant turtle had caught himself just before he could render Blaine unconscious.

"Was that Blaine, Don?" A redhead peered from behind the recoiling mutant, who shook his head.

"April," Blaine addressed, "your face."

"Oh, this?" April gave a weak chuckle, wiping some coagulated blood off her red nose. "I—it's nothing. Least, not compared to what these guys went through."

She glanced behind her, so Blaine followed suit. He noticed Melody supporting herself against a chain link gate, but she paled in comparison to a new beast. Overshadowing him was the largest figure he'd seen in his entire life, next to Hunter Mason. Its broad shoulders carried two bodies and its crocodilian snout quirked into a smile. Or was it smirk?

"Hello, Officer Blaine. I am Leatherhead. I have heard a bit about you from my friends."

"You…you're…" The blonde wanted to say 'impossible'.

But what difference was a crocodile from a turtle? Or a child who could heal in seconds? 'I blame Hugh for all this.'

"So—so—so"—Damien paused—"you're friends with an alligator."

"Crocodile," Leatherhead corrected, his sharp teeth showing.

"Oh. Cool?"

"What's going on, Blaine?" April interjected. "I didn't know you were meeting us, let alone with, uh, him."

"No hard feelings, right?" Damien asked with a shrug.

The redhead glared.

"I made the call that freed you."

"Tell that to the scar over my thigh!"

"Hey, I got there after the EPF!"

"Argue later, idiots," Melody snapped. She sounded winded and the way she stumbled away from the fence gave the impression of a drunkard. "Nia and Splinter need rest."

"So it worked?" Blaine studied the two figures Leatherhead shouldered, although they looked eerily still. "Are they—"

"They're fine," the cyborg cut off. "Nia's steady, healed. And Splinter's heart restarted."

"You mean it stopped?"

Donatello countered Blaine's wide stare with a shallow smile while he neared Melody. "We'll explain later. Just know everyone's okay."

"So you're free then."

"Well, I was gunna call Raph from April's apartment to see how he and Mike are doing."

"Don't bother."

"Why?"

"Michelangelo's gone."

"What? What did he—? Where's your phone?"

"Hold on!" Blaine pushed Donatello away when he reached inside his pockets, which proved difficult given the ninja's unusual strength. "I have a favor to ask first."

"Favor?"

The blonde nodded. "Wherever you're taking Nia and Splinter, I—I want you to take Kaiya as well."

Gesturing with his chin, Blaine lifted the child in his arms. She looked haggard from matted blonde hair to scuffed sneakers; however not one scratch remained from the bus attack. All those scars were emotional, and would haunt even Blaine for months to come.

"I—is she okay?" Donatello asked.

"Depends on what constitutes okay."

"She wasn't found out, was she?"

The father appreciated the concern Donatello showed, but such didn't ease the distress that knotted his stomach when he noted Melody's frown. "I don't think so."

"Then why does she look like she has been through a shredder?"

"Mel!"

"It's fine, Don." Blaine sucked in a deep breath, using Kaiya's warmth as an anchor for his troubled mind. "Kaiya's bus was hijacked. She—she tried stopping it and it rolled up Unfinished Bridge."

"What about the kids?" Donatello swallowed and gripped Melody's shoulder when she stepped forward.

"Jakob?"

"Kids are fine. I tried to take Jakob with us, but he had to wait for his father with the others."

"Who would hijack a school bus?" April questioned with a scrunched face.

"Pierce," Damien answered, solemn.

"Despicable dragons…"

"They're turning New York into one hell of a war zone," Blaine added as the ex-PD slumped backwards. "Even the police are stumped, and it's forcing the EPF to bring out their big guns."

April scoffed. "We've already seen monsters and increasing response teams. What else could they have up their sleeve?"

"A cyborg."

"Where would Bishop get a—?" Donatello paused. "Don't tell me."

Blaine lowered his gaze towards Kaiya's sleeping form. "The orange-haired one showed up like an attack dog."

"Hunt," Damien confirmed.

"He fought Pierce, killed him while Tabitha and I were…s—saving the kids."

"Maybe that's why Tabitha went silent," noted Donatello. He flashed Melody a faint grin. "She was too busy being a hero to let you in her head."

"What's that mean?" Blaine asked.

"She, Sven, and Tabitha share a brain frequency—for lack of better words. It's a feature, uh, Stephens installed."

"And it keeps us connected, unless one blocks the signal."

The officer eyed the cyborg's disgruntled expression, as if she were confused by her own thoughts. "So you have cyborg telekinesis?"

Melody sent him a pointed stare. "Technically, that would be telepathy. Essentially, it's a phone in our heads. Even if it isn't always used, it doesn't make sense why she wouldn't answer or…be here."

"Yeah." April glanced around. "Why is it just you three? Did Tabitha go help Raph and Sven already?"

If he could opt out of answering the redhead's question, Blaine would've. Many curious eyes pressed him for answers, though, and his stomach sank as he backpedaled.

"Blaine?

"Can you just take Kai with the others and let me leave with Donatello? Hu—Hugh doesn't have much time."

"Why are you avoiding the question?" Steps stern, Melody approached, square jaw raised. "Where is Tabitha? Why can I not hear her? Why isn't she answering?"

"I…" Blaine stepped back again when his mind reeled with the scent of Tabitha's sweat, fumes, and blood.

"What do you know?"

Again, the blonde back-stepped—this time from a harsh jab in his shoulder.

"She's either going to learn it from you or the news," Damien said from behind

But Blaine would rather she not find out at all. This was the woman who had kidnapped homeless folks for Black Lotus experiments over a broken heart. Who's to say what she would do over the death of a friend? What additional kinks she would add to the current war?

"Find out what?" Melody surely would've reached for the officer's shirt if it hadn't been for Kaiya, so she instead settled for a snarl.

"The bus rolled off the bridge, and she was the only thing that kept it from crashing on the overpass with the kids inside."

"You said the kids were fine."

Blaine sighed under Donatello's stare, shaking. "Because of her they are."

"I—I—I don't like the turn this story is taking," noted April. She gripped onto Leather's forearm and shared an unsure look with the beast.

"Tabitha held the bus' end. She flew me up there to evacuate the kids and held the whole thing by herself. Jakob was the last one, and that's when Hunt…"

"There was a tractor beam or some shit," Damien added. "It lifted everything metal, e—e—even some of the wreckage on the overpass. I—I—I didn't see what happened up top, but it wasn't long before…everything came crashing down."

"Tabitha was cornered," Blaine continued.

He remembered when she no longer struggled with her load; when she laid her head against the ceiling, thin arms still wrapped around the bus's back bumper. Despite it all, she looked at peace. And her last, lopsided smile burned the man's eyes.

"Hunt used an EMP and"—Blaine swallowed thickly—"she was too close."

"No," Melody whispered. Her eye was wide, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. It seemed understandable; given how she gaped and shoved away the hand her husband placed on her shoulder. "No, no, no. Tabi's just being stubborn. She'll answer."

"I—I'm sorry, Melody. She…she can't."

"You're lying!"

At the cyborg's broken cry, Blaine steeled. "Even if she could've survived Hunt's EMP, she wouldn't have survived that fall. She's gone."

Melody's narrowed eye spoke volumes of her disbelief, but as the seconds ticked, she slunk further way, until her back met the chain-link gate. Had she asked Sven for confirmation? Or was she capable of checking the Web with a single thought.

Wait; that was Sven's gift. Right?

"Sven?" she croaked.

So, she had asked him. And his answer reflected in the half-blonde's mortified cry.

"Mel," Donatello started softly.

Melody ran her hands through her ear-length hair, tugging it as her teeth ground.

"I'm sorry; If I could've stopped Hunt, I would've," Blaine noted when she released a shuddering breath.

"Hunt."

A single whisper spoken with such clear derisiveness. It brought Donatello's fingers to the cyborg's check, which she swatted them away with a dangerous glint in her eye. Her face hardened, her large lips pulled down so far they looked ready to slide off her face.

"Melody, don't."

Donatello's words no longer held weight with his wife. She pushed him into the gate then took off with a speed that would outmatch Kaiya. It blew a brief wind over Blaine's face, and he heard a distinctive thump on the roof beside him before the genius cursed.

"I—is she really going to find Hunt?"

"And she's likely got Sven on her side too," Donatello added, rubbing his chest.

"What about Hugh?"

"Blaine," Don frowned, "you said they had an EMP. Mel can't—"

"I will follow her." Leatherhead's rumbling voice caused Blaine to jump; it was still unfamiliar and he had been quiet for so long, the blonde had forgotten how far up he needed to look to find the creature's face.

"LH—"

"Melody is a juggernaut. What better way to stop a juggernaut than with another juggernaut?"

"She needs to calm down, not fight!"

"I understand her rage, Donatello. So let me try."

"If anything, it'll buy time for Hugh," April interjected. "You know if we don't get him out now, he—"

"I get it," Donatello snapped. He glared at April a moment then dropped his hostility with a brusque sigh. "LH."

"I cannot guarantee neither of us will be injured. However, I will bring her back."

It took a lot of willpower for Donatello to nod; that much was certain. He accepted Nia and Splinter into his arms when the crocodile mutant offered them, then stepped aside to give Leatherhead room for a charge. Blaine turned his head away at the second gust of air, surprised by the beast's speed and agility as he followed Melody's war path.

'Mutants, cyborgs, aliens, and super-humans. Just a year ago, I was telling Kaiya none of this was real…I don't know if I'm cut out for such stress.'

"Blaine."

Said officer glanced up with a start, meeting Donatello's stern expression.

"We'll take these guys to April's. Then, we head for Hugh."

The twitches were uncontrollable, but Hugh had neither patience nor will to care how silly they made him look. He sat, slumped, against the prison chair that once held him—unable to catch his breath through the lingering pain in his body. He gripped the arm whose wrist bleed from the harsh cuff squeezing it and paled to think of how far the barbs had sunk into the spastic muscles below it.

'Dammit,' he thought with a tremble. 'Every time I near the door, I get shocked to hell…And here I thought my biggest issue would be finding an exit.'

Then again, this was an EPF cell; Hugh should've expected Bishop would have secondary safety protocols. 'This thing would rather take my hand than let go. Guess now I know what Evens had meant. Too bad for him, I have the key. I just gotta stop…shaking.'

Positive thinking did little good. No matter how much he wished it, Hugh's unsteady hand was slow to cooperate. It didn't support him when he rolled and refused to lift the key off the floor, although it lay beside his thigh. He needed both hands to gather it; however, the budding smirk across his lips turned into frown as he glanced at the lock on his cuffs.

The key hole was corroded into a bubbled mess of metal. It had no chance of fitting a key any more. That didn't stop Hugh from trying. He jammed it, scraped it, cursed it—all to no avail. It was stuck, and would remain so until an EPF technician came around.

Shit!'

Teeth clenched, he chucked the key at Evens' head. The agent didn't stir, which Hugh never expected him to. The throw was pitiful because of his weakened state and Evens…well, he hadn't moved an inch since falling.

'Perfect,' the detective thought. As he lowered his cuffed hand towards his side, he realized the lock's melted line fit the angle of his wound. 'So the graze shot is the one that melted it?'

Hugh scoffed—an action interrupted by his chattering teeth. That would be his luck. Freed from the chair and still confined to the cell thanks to the EPF's damn handcuffs.

'Evens mentioned a war outside. If I'm caught here, one way or another…I'm dead.'

Which meant his time had to be now. But dare he try the door again? Even if he could reach it, he doubted he'd make it much farther. The shock his cuff emitted stole all control from his body. Rolling away had been a tremendous task that weighed him down.

'Knowing Bishop, the range for this thing is miles. Wouldn't put it past him…'

That settled matters; the cuff needed to come off. And Hugh knew of only one way it would happen.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he lifted himself from the floor until he faced the restraint chair behind him. Evens' plasma rifle rested in it, a stark contrast of gray in the otherwise white room. Hugh didn't reach for it just yet. Instead, he ripped a thick line of fabric from his soiled prison shirt. This he rolled then, after a dry swallow, placed it in his mouth.

It tasted awful—like cat piss mixed with smelly feet. However, the stench turned his stomach less than the act of gripping the rifle. His stomach was high in his chest by the time he placed its butt against his shoulder, and it continued to rise as the neon decal work glowed with the promise of a charge.

'Thank God I'm right handed,' he jested, burning eye set on the barrel aimed at his left wrist. He thought jokes might keep him from folding, although an increasing heat from the metal against his skin tempted him to withdraw.

'No.' The man shook his head. 'Stop it, Hugh. You've faced worse kinks before. Besides, this is the only way you can be there for them…'

For Marina and his son, Hugh would do this—he'd break the cuff and escape. So he drew in a deep breath then pulled the trigger.

A/N: Mel's gearing up for a rampage. And if you didn't notice, Hugh's getting a little desperate...