Months passed. Lisette became a member of April's pseudo-human family; some were more welcoming towards her constant presence than others.

"Lisette! Bring me back my screwdriver right this instant!" Donatello's voice mingled with the soft, jeering whistle of April's new pet, who had the head of Donatello's favorite screwdriver in her little curved beak. She flew out of Donatello's lab and gracefully sailed into the living room, where April was sitting on the couch alongside Leonardo; their eyes were glued to the television screen - the penultimate episode of All of My Days' fiftieth season was on. She and Leonardo had to know if Ophelia finally ended up with Count Andre after twenty-five years of playing interdimensional hard-to-get. April's concentration was broken when the Phillips-brand tool plopped into her lap; Lisette fluttered down along with it, and her beady eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Did you bring me another present, girl?" April couldn't help but tease her little pet. Lisette cocked her head and cooed at her owner.

"Oh, but this doesn't belong to you, does it?" April challenged as she picked up the screwdriver by its plastic handle. "I'd wager that it's Donatello's. Am I right to believe that?"

Lisette cooed again, this time it was soft and remorseful. Leonardo reached out a thick, green finger and gave Lisette's head a little scratch. "It's not all bad, April. She got Donatello out of his lab, look, here he comes right now."

And indeed, Donatello came storming into the living room, beak pressed into a grim line, hands on his hips. He looked down at Lisette with scorn in his eyes. "I believe," He spat. "Your little friend has something that belongs to me."

"Yes, she does." April handed the screwdriver back to Donatello, sporting a bright smile. Lisette, with a harried flap of her wings, flew her way over to Leonardo and perched herself on his shoulder. "Come on, Donatello," Leonardo chided with a well-meaning smile. "She's just trying to have fun."
"Since when does having fun constitute stealing my property?" Donatello rebutted. He glanced at Lisette, ridges furrowed. "You ought to put her in obedience classes, April."

"Obedience classes? For a bird?" April challenged; she smirked. "Well, I'll start looking. The only ones I've come across so far are for street pigeons."

Donnie sniffed. "Well, at least get her on a leash or something."

A leash? Was Donatello serious?" April just rolled her eyes and settled back on the couch. "I'll make sure she won't do it again. I promise."

"Good." Donatello turned on his heel and strode away, beak in the air as he disappeared around the corner. Leonardo sighed. "He's become such a drama queen lately. I don't understand why."

"Says the guy who's watching a soap opera that's a million seasons," Raphael called mockingly from the kitchen, where he was helping Michelangelo put toppings on one of several pizzas.

"It only has another twenty to go," Leonardo called back. "It's not that much!"

"Sure."

Soon, the premature, orangey dusk of night was sheathed in darkness. April bade her pseudo brothers goodbye and started on the walk home, Lisette was tucked away in her jacket pocket, where it was nice and warm. Speaking of nice and warm, April thought she had better start picking up the pace. No season was kind to the city, but fall was the most gracious. Dead and dying leaves pooled near drain openings and littered the streets. They crunched under April's boots with each step she took. "At least it's not too cold out, right, Lisette?" April looked down at the tail feathers that were sticking out of her pocket; they shook in agreement. There was a short burst of rustling, and her little head popped out.

"Oh, you're just so cute, I can't take it sometimes." April giggled. "But no more stealing stuff, okay? You have to keep that sticky little beak of yours out of trouble." She tapped Lisette's little gray beak. Lisette's head suddenly cocked to the side. Her eyes became wide. April had never seen any animal go wild, but seeing it happen to Lisette, of all creatures, had to be one of the scariest things she'd ever seen. Her cries were painful and shrill. She flapped her wings wildly as she tried in vain to get out of April's pocket, and once she was, she started to pull at the redhead's perfectly coiffed up-do. "Oh! Lisette, what is the matter with you? Oh, stop that right now, this instant, I swear-"

April's hands flew about as she tried to grab Lisette, but she was a bird, for crying out loud, she had wings. Suddenly, the pulling stopped. April stumbled forward; there was the familiar sound of flapping, but they were different; Heavier. More menacing. She felt a chill curl its way up her spine as she turned on her heel; Lisette's lifeless body was in the beak of a giant, hulking raven with ice-cold eyes; when April looked into them, for only a fraction of a second, she could see that they swirled with the underbelly of time, the things that humanity itself had turned its back towards. The raven and Lisette disappeared in a plume of smoke, and in their wake, stood a tall figure sheathed in a red velvet cloak that seemed to move with a mind of its own. On the concrete lay a girl with long, dark hair, wearing a shapeless shift. Her long, delicate throat was pouring blood. Tattoos, ones she vaguely remembered, danced on her skin frantically. The figure reached up and brought down its hood. It was The Man. Blood stained his lips; he flashed a crooked smile at April, and looked at the girl on the ground. "..Seems like your little pet was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. Poor thing."

The concert.

Her missing ring.

"Don't look into his eyes again. He already thinks your soul is a good candidate."

"Lisette?" April knelt down before her. Feathers were tangled in her tresses. Her wound kept on bleeding. She stirred. Her eyes opened; the same, innocent brown ones she remembered. And then she opened her mouth. What came from it was a scream that threatened to split the city in half. April covered her ears.
The Man screamed and stumbled back; his form flickered and changed, and then he was gone.

"..I was only trying to protect you." Lisette's voice curled from her lips. Her head lolled to the side, and her eyes closed. April yanked up her sleeve and screamed Donatello's name into the smooth, chrome-plated communicator that was attached to her wrist all at all times.

Donatello's worried face, crowded by his brothers' identical ones, filled the postage-stamp-sized screen. "Is everything okay, April? You're crying." The scientist-inventor noted; April hadn't noticed that, and frankly, she didn't care.
"It's Lisette!" She tried to keep her voice low. The windows of the surrounding apartment buildings were beginning to come to life; people had heard Lisette's scream, of course. "She's hurt really bad, guys."

"Well, uh, I don't think we're the guys you're looking for, dudette." Michelangelo cut in. "We don't know anything about animals!"

"We are animals, Michelangelo," Raphael interjected. "Or did you forget what mirrors were?"

"Still, my point stands, dude."

"Are you close, April?" Leonardo's calming voice fell over the growing brotherly banter. "Maybe Donatello can help patch her up."

April looked at the girl, then back at the screen. "It's bad."

"I'll try and do what I can." Donatello replied, reassurance filling his face. "Just bring her down."

"Okay, bye."

The communicator's screen went dark, and April, fueled by adrenaline, hoisted Lisette into her arms bridal style and carried her three blocks to an alleyway. She slogged her way through the filthy sewer tunnels that would lead her to a sliver of hope. The turtles were standing at the entrance to their home. Donatello stood at the forefront, wearing a pair of oven mitts and a surgical mask that was tied to his face. He ripped it off when he saw April; his beak fell open in shock, and his brothers followed suit.

"..That's not a dove." He whispered.

"I know," April said feebly. "Just help her, please."

And help Lisette they did. She was given tetanus shots; her wound was cleaned, and carefully sutured with the best thread Donatello could find; his stitches were done with shaking fingers, but were still tight and neat. They were held in place by loops of gauze. She was placed on a woven mat in the dojo, and covered with a yellow-knit blanket. April was sitting beside her, knees pulled to her chest.

"..You're a brave kid," April whispered. "Or bird, or-or are you an angel? I don't know, I don't.." She sniffled. "You're brave. I don't know if you can hear me but I hope you know that." She reached down and ran her fingers through Lisette's hair. "..I love you, Lisette."

The girl's eyes fluttered open; her irises were hazy pools of mottled chocolate. Her lips turned up in a smile. "..I always..liked that name." She forced a laugh. "Well...I suppose..it's the only name I've ever had."

April stared at her with wide eyes before bringing her into a tight hug. Lisette stiffened, then melted into April's motherly hold. "..I'm sorry."

"It's okay." April meant those words with every fiber of her being. "You have nothing to be sorry about."