...

I've got the devil on my shoulder (over and over)
And I just can't sink any lower (lower and lower)
The hounds of hell are getting closer (closer and closer)
I've got the devil on my shoulder (over and over)
-"Devil on my Shoulder," by Billy Talent

PANIC IN THE SEWERS

Michelangelo watched April approach the Foot headquarters, his stomach growling longingly at the pizza she held. On the rooftop, where he was, the tension was almost unbearable between the others.

Leonardo was ducked down and watching her grimly, his T-phone in hand. Donatello fiddled nervously with the transmitter for the tracking device that was stuck to the pizza box, and actually held his breath as April knocked on the foreboding front door. Casey, his long hair still stringy and damp from the water balloon Michelangelo had greeted him with back at the lair, pulled down his mask and shifted his weight restlessly.

A Foot Soldier in full uniform answered the door, then promptly slammed it in April's face. Everyone sighed, in equal parts relief and disappointment, as she walked away and took cover in an alley around the corner.

"It's too bad the mission was a bust, but do you think we could stay out a while longer?" Michelangelo asked. The thought of returning to the lair right now, after so many weeks stuck inside with Master Splinter making them train like crazy, felt like a crushing defeat in and of itself.

Leonardo and Donatello flicked irritated glances his way, but Leo's phone started buzzing before either of them could say anything.

"They didn't even let me finish what I was saying," Michelangelo heard April saying from Leonardo's T-phone.

"It's okay, April, you tried your best," Leonardo reassured her.

"Oh, I'm not done yet, I've still got one more trick up my sleeve," she retorted sassily before hanging up.

"What?" Leonardo said into dead air, then clicked his phone off in resignation.

"What is she doing?" Donatello fretted.

Michelangelo watched in horror as she removed the recording device and dumped the entire box of pizza in the trash. "She just threw out the pizza! She's going rogue!"

Casey shushed him, putting a hand over his wrist in a warning not to stand up from where they were crouched.

Her voice was muffled by the recorder being in her pocket, but they heard her say something about being a fire inspector as she flashed her wallet at the hapless guy who answered her persistent knocking on the neighboring door to the Foot headquarters.

"She's so cool," Donatello said dreamily, at the same time that Casey gave a good-natured snort of appreciation for April's quick thinking.

"Could you guys be any more obvious?" Michelangelo teased, actually getting a chuckle from Leonardo.

"She's on the roof now," Casey pointed out.

They watched with bated breath as she jumped the gap between the buildings, her brush with a four-storey fall much too close for any of their tastes. She disappeared behind the face of the giant clock, and a moment later the transmitter was making rustling noises.

The sudden angry, baritone voice of Shredder reaching them on the rooftop caused the skin to prickle at the back of Michelangelo's neck.

"I don't care about the money! You were supposed to find me the turtles, not start a gang war!"

"Hoo boy, Raph is in deep shit," Casey whispered.

Casey had given them the heads up that Shredder was back and had a plan, as well as giving them a brief rundown on how he'd met Raphael. He'd actually told April first, and the two of them had gone to the lair, risking Master Splinter's ire to warn them and offer up their help.

"But it is no matter," continued Shredder. "It is enough that we know they are somewhere in the sewers. I have been waiting patiently for this shipment, and I know neither of you would dare fail me again. Chlorosulfonic acid is extremely rare, so you will not get another chance..."

Rustling, static, then Leonardo's phone buzzed again and he put it on speaker.

"Did you get that? I'm sorry I didn't get the whole conversation," she said.

"We got enough," Donatello replied weakly. "That chemical reacts violently with water. It will cause a flash incineration of the entire sewer system if it gets dumped down there."

"Holy chalupa," Michelangelo exclaimed quietly.

"They are supposed to intercept a truck in about fifteen minutes, we have to go. And guys? There's another mutant, and he's enormous. Shredder called him Bradford."

"Rad Brad's a mutant now?!" Michelangelo blurted, a lot more loudly than he had intended.

Two hands muffled his mouth at once, Donatello's and Casey's thick, gloved one. He flailed to get them off of him.

"April you need to get somewhere safe, now," Leonardo ordered.

"I'm heading down the fire escape, I'm going to try and hitch a ride and see where they go."

"No, you've done more than enough…" Leonardo broke off mid-sentence.

Raphael and a giant canine Bradford emerged from the front door. Michelangelo's jaw dropped. Even he was speechless for once.

ooooooooo

Frustration coiled deep within Raphael's chest. Weeks worth of progress and profit he had made within the Foot Clan had been swept aside by his Master, his failures the only focus. While the incident with the Purple Dragons had admittedly been his own blunder, it was unfair to pin being unable to find the turtles squarely on Raphael's shoulders. No one had seen them, not even their friend with a death wish who had mistaken him for Michelangelo.

"I can't wait to get out there and stretch my muscles," Bradford said with relish. "I've been cooped up like some animal."

Raphael rolled his eyes as they walked through the Watchtower together. "Maybe because you were acting like one," he muttered, pushing open the front door.

Bradford growled in response as they headed out to a plain black van. A clank of metal caught their attention, Bradford's ears swiveling back in interest.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Something the others can take care of," Raphael replied curtly, opening the passenger side door and getting inside. "We don't have time for distractions."

"I hear a voice," Bradford said, already stalking off. A moment later, a shrill scream signaled that he'd found whoever it was he'd been looking for.

The Foot soldier behind the wheel tapped it nervously with his fingers then looked up at Raphael, who gritted his teeth impatiently as he watched Bradford approach in the side view mirror. He carried a red-headed girl in one freakishly large hand and was grinning ear to ear.

The passenger side door opened and Bradford tossed her onto Raphael's lap.

"What the hell, Bradford?" Raphael yelled, but the door had already slammed shut again.

The van tilted slightly to the left as Bradford balanced himself on the doorstep and clung to the side of the van, giving it a tap on the hood to indicate he was ready to go. Dutifully, the driver hit the gas without a word. The girl, whom he now recognized as April, had her hands tied behind her back and all but face-planted with a mortified squawk into his chest at the sudden lurch forward.

Even the large van was a tight fit for someone with a shell, so when Raphael steadied her and pushed her away, there wasn't really anywhere for her to go. Her struggling and noises of outrage didn't help, either, and after being squashed against the dashboard, plastered to the passenger side window, and then almost tilting right off of him and into the driver, she finally settled sideways on top of both of his legs, her back resting on the window.

April glared at him warily, her pale skin flushed pink with rage. "You'll never get away with this," she said vehemently.

Raphael remained silent and held her firmly in a more crumpled version of a bridal carry, making sure she couldn't potentially kick out at the driver or gearshift, while also making sure a sudden stop or acceleration wouldn't send her flying into him again or out through the windshield. Though tense, she had stopped struggling against him and turned her head to watch the road as they both tried to pointedly ignore the awkwardness of the situation. There were only a handful of people he felt comfortable sharing his personal space with, and there was something about this girl that heavily unnerved him.

The Aumen Chemicals tanker came into sight up ahead, and the Foot Soldier hit the gas, hard. He leaned forward, checked the other lane, and then quickly swerved into it. The sound of shrieking metal startled both Raphael and April, as Bradford dug his claws into the van all around the passenger side to keep his grip.

April started to squirm and keen in distress as the van pulled up beside the tanker, then accelerated to pass it.

"Please tell me you're not….oh my god!" she wailed as the van shot past the tanker, turned abruptly, then halted across both lanes.

Bradford stepped down from the van and positioned himself right in the path of the truck, which was already slowing down, brakes screeching in protest.

The Foot Soldier leapt nimbly from the van, as Raphael struggled to get April out and her legs under her. As the truck skidded closer to the group of them, she flinched and actually tucked herself into his arm.

The tanker stopped inches from Bradford, who was almost as tall as the truck itself. He ripped off the passenger door effortlessly and tossed it aside, growling "Get out." The older man with a long, grey ponytail didn't put up any resistance. He got out, ran away, and didn't look back.

Bradford pointed to the Foot Soldier. "You, get on with it," he ordered, and the man quickly climbed into the drivers side of the truck.

Raphael looked down at April, who was clearly scanning the area for an escape route or her friends, then back at Bradford. "I'm leaving her here."

"Don't you dare," he snarled.

Raphael gave her a little push towards the sidewalk in defiance, and started to walk around the front of the van.

"We need her for questioning," Bradford insisted, catching up to her again within a few large strides.

"We won't when this is done," Raphael countered in irritation, adjusting the driver's seat in the van so he could fit behind the wheel.

Bradford opened the passenger door and glared in at Raphael with his disturbing red eyes. "Then she'll be my reward for a job well done. She stays."

He put April back in the van, pulling the seat belt across her chest to secure her into the passenger seat. "Buckle up, sweetheart." As the seat belt clicked into place, he sniffed at her neck deeply enough to move her hair. "You smell good enough to eat," he said darkly before finally shutting the door.

"Ugh," April shuddered in disgust.

Raphael grumbled in agreement. Bradford just had to be a creeper the first chance he got. They didn't have time for this shit.

The tanker drove by, Bradford again clinging to the passenger side of the cab with a lot more space and security than he'd had on the van. Raphael changed gears and followed after the truck. The scent of April's fear and anxiety had spiked because of that dog, and it was overwhelming in the small space they shared.

It hit him as he lowered their windows about halfway for some fresh air. Her scent was wrong somehow. Giving her a sideways glance, he cleared his throat. "So, what's your deal, exactly?"

"Pardon me?" she snapped. "What do you mean 'what's my deal?' You're the one kidnapping me!"

"If you hadn't noticed, I was the one that tried to let you go, but since you are still sitting here beside me, I was just wondering what you are."

She looked back at him like he'd grown another head. "Human, obviously."

He adjusted the rearview mirror, feeling uneasy and awkward again. There was a small vehicle in the distance that appeared to be following them.

"Why would you even ask?"

Apparently, her curiosity had gotten the better of her despite the situation, which was fair. So had his.

"Part of my training was using my much stronger senses to figure humans out. Their emotions, their lies, sometimes even their weaknesses. There is something about your scent that I've never come across before, ever."

She huffed. "If either one of you perverts comment on how I smell again, I swear to god I'm going to lose it."

"Never mind," he sighed, dropping the subject. He checked his rearview mirror again, and to his surprise, that strange, small vehicle was now tailing them quite closely. "What the hell is that thing?"

April looked back and smiled in excitement. "It's the Patrol Buggy! I knew they'd find me."

The 'Patrol Buggy' looked like a mishmash of ten go-karts, a bumper car, and random junkyard parts held together with rope and willpower. Raphael snorted in amusement as a piece of it flew off and clanged down the road behind them.

"Oh no, Donnie, it isn't ready," she fretted under breath, craning around in her seat to watch their pursuit.

Raphael was supposed to escort the tanker to a secluded lot and guard Bradford from any trouble coming their way while he dumped the chemical into a sewage drain. However, now that they had April, she might as well be useful for something. Raphael turned a corner sharply, hoping that she would be enough of a lure to draw his brothers away from the truck completely. April struggled to keep her balance with the abrupt change of direction, her hands still trapped behind her back.

"You have got to be kidding me," Raphael said, exasperated. The vehicle had split up into four individual karts, and only two were following him.

They were surprisingly fast and maneuverable, and one of them pulled up to the passenger side and managed to keep pace with them.

"Close your eyes!" a voice yelled, just as Raphael was about to swerve into them.

April did as she was told, turning her face away from the window as black smoke filled the van. They had thrown a smoke bomb in through the open window.

Raphael blinked his watering eyes furiously and coughed, his swerve going wild as he over-corrected it blindly. The tires popped loudly beneath them and he hit the brakes, barely in control. They screeched to a halt, miraculously avoiding any collisions.

He flung open the door and staggered out into the night, taking deep breaths of fresh air. Tires squealed and what appeared to be Donatello and Casey sped away on the suburban side street, April clinging tightly to Casey's back.

Which meant Leonardo and Michelangelo had followed Bradford to try and interfere with their plan.

"Damn it all!" Raphael raged, tearing off into the night on foot towards the lot where Bradford was.

ooooooooo

Karai balled a fist up at her side, her other hand resting idly on the hilt of her wakizashi as she tried not to fidget. She was standing just behind her father's throne, on his right side.

Raphael and Bradford were on their knees before the Shredder, heads bowed low as they recounted the story of their defeat. It was laughably absurd, but the palpable tension of Shredder's rising temper made her feel incredibly uncomfortable instead of amused. Being on this side of his wrath was almost as stressful as having it directed at her. Almost.

"I had them beat," Bradford said. "They were no match for me. If the tanker hadn't been pierced during the fight, and someone had actually bothered to back me up, the mission would have been a success."

"I was trying to draw them away from you," Raphael snapped, turning his head briefly to glare at Bradford. "How could I have possibly predicted that their rust bucket would split into four karts? And how about the time you wasted trying to kidnap that girl?"

"She would have come in handy for questioning right about now, wouldn't she?" he growled back.

"Silence!"

Shredder's voice boomed through the cavernous space of the throne room, causing a startled jolt in all three of them. Bradford and Raphael abruptly shut their mouths and bowed in supplication, their foreheads nearly pressed to the polished floor.

Karai's hands started to sweat nervously, but she dared not move or make a sound.

Shredder continued in a more level tone. "You were defeated by Go-karts and a water balloon."

Karai felt hyper-aware of the danger in the room, and held her breath as Bradford dared to look up at Shredder and start to grovel.

"Enough!" Shredder sprang from his seat and unleashed two wickedly long blades from one gauntlet, slicing down in an arc over Bradford's head.

He whimpered, the tip of one of his bone spikes having been cleanly removed from his shoulder. It clattered to the floor as her father turned his attention to Raphael's scarred shell, as if considering adding another. Karai's heart leapt into her throat.

Raphael remained still and silent, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Clearly we are taking the wrong tact in destroying the turtles," Shredder said, grazing a claw lightly over Raphael's carapace. "Conventional tactics are not working against our very unconventional enemies."

He turned away, leaving Raphael unmarked, and Karai slowly let out her breath in relief. Her father met her eyes as he returned to his throne, cool and calculating, taking in her reaction. She tried to remain as stoic as possible, pretending to be unaffected, pretending that threats against Raphael wouldn't work to his advantage in some future punishment for her. But he knew. He always had been able to see right through her.

Shredder sat down and continued, his back to her once again. "It's time we fight fire with fire. I will amass my own mutant army if I need to, and I am starting with an old friend of mine from China."

He didn't go into further detail, and Karai could see Raphael holding himself back from asking who this other mutant was, but she had a feeling she knew who he was talking about. Tiger Claw. The name had been mentioned when Raphael had gone missing.

Karai had been furious that her father had decided it would be more efficient to bring the assassin to New York right then instead of waiting until Raphael had been found, but then he'd turned up, filthy and half dead the night before their flight to America. Tiger Claw's flight from China had been cancelled with Raphael back in tow. She'd had no idea, however, that he was also a mutant.

They were dismissed, and Bradford quickly sulked from the room, his tail literally between his legs.

Karai caught up to Raphael and took his hand, trying to quell the storm of emotions brewing in his features.

"Let's get out of here for a while," she said under her breath, tugging him towards the elevator. Without hesitation, he followed her lead.