Revelations

Donatello blinked rapidly in shock, mind blown by the events that unfolded in the last few minutes. But one thing had become abundantly clear.

Sharra cares about Michelangelo... intensely.

At first, he postulated she formed a sort of trauma bond of her own. Though asleep, she whimpered and moaned whenever she wasn't in direct contact with Michelangelo. Profound sounds of emotional turmoil that made Don's skin twitch, echoed from her throat.

She awoke abruptly, with a gasp so full of fear, his spine instinctively stiffened. Even in the dark, her face displayed a mask of despair. She shook like a leaf in a gale and she touched her forehead as if it pained her.

It took a great deal of self-control on his part to remain seated and not speak or try to comfort her. Not that he thought she would be especially receptive to such a thing. But after hours of listening to her distress, nausea and helplessness churned his insides.

None of them dealt well with sitting by while watching an innocent suffer, but Don experienced the pain of inaction particularly hard. Waiting to assist rubbed against the grain of his fundamental nature. The need to do something was practically overwhelming.

However, he and Raphael had promised to remain silent until Leonardo had a chance to introduce himself and apologize for their behavior on behalf of the clan. Leo wanted to stay hidden and observe her reactions when she woke to decide the appropriate way to do this.

Donnie wasn't sure if he agreed. His instincts said she needed information and solace quickly to head off a potential melt-down since Mikey was not awake to reassure her.

But I'm not the leader...

He bit his tongue, hard, when Sharra's confusion turned to panic.

She must recall the events on the roof, Leo threatening her. The fight.

Don couldn't tell if she was aware of them at all during her paralysis. If she didn't remember Mikey coming to her rescue and them taking her home, she was likely to become hysterical.

He hoped against hope the renewed shock of their presence wouldn't send her back into that weirdly stiff state.

I don't think Michelangelo will take that well at all.

Her breathing shifted toward frenzied panting and she pivoted to search wildly among the bedding. He didn't realize what, or rather who, she was seeking until her knuckles rapped against Mikey's shell with an audible thwack and she slumped down on his shoulder in relief.

She freaked out over Mike!

Her position, resting against Mikey shocked him. The hand-holding he witnessed earlier was a surprise but could be written off as something instinctual done in sleep. Don wasn't prepared, however, for her to turn to Mike for comfort when she was awake. Especially like that.

When she didn't move for a few seconds, he frowned in worry.

Did she faint?

Donatello fought the urge to rush over to check, then felt his mouth drop open as her arm slipped under Michelangelo's and across his plastron; curving up over his shoulder while carefully avoiding his wounds. Sharra shuddered, wrapping her upper body around his shell and hugging Mikey closer than any human ever had, save possibly April.

And April never touched us with such... intimacy.

Sharra pressed her face into the crook of Michelangelo's shoulder and neck, breathing deeply to settle herself. The movement seemed so natural.

As if she's done it a hundred times...

Stunned, Donatello stared. Admiring a scene he never imagined possible. A human woman willingly engaging in full-body contact with a mutant turtle.

No way is this a manifestation of something as ephemeral as a trauma bond.

His brain was running a mile a minute, compiling ramifications and seeking explanations for her behavior, but his libido immediately painted himself into the image.

Though Sharra wasn't doing anything remotely sexual, this simple cuddle was going to be the highlight of his wet dreams and fantasies for weeks to come. He envisioned her breath touching his neck. Her feathery hair tickling his cheek. The beat of her heart against his shell. The vibrations of her delicate hands sweeping across his plastron in a tender caress. The warmth of her body surrounding him.

Fuck, her 98.6 would feel better than any heat lamp.

Donatello's face burned and he flushed harder than he ever had in his life. His lower plastron began to swell with the pressure of his inflating cock and he was profoundly grateful to be wearing the white neoprene suit. It was one of the few items of clothing he owned that would both disguise his... interest, and keep the scent of his arousal contained.

And he was certainly aroused. He fought to control his breathing, as dampness seeped from his slit. He would have to do laundry fast when they got home because if Mikey was enamored of the girl, he would never forgive Donnie for creating such pheromones.

Involuntarily Donatello licked his lips, and behind him, heard the slightest click as Raphael's teeth came together as he snapped his jaw shut.

Raph is as flabbergasted as I am and probably just as... inspired. Leo better do something soon. I don't think Raph will hold his tongue much longer. And the results won't be pretty if he starts the conversation.

Suddenly, the beautiful image shattered before his eyes.

Sharra sensed their presence and tensed. She jerked away from Michelangelo as if burned, and proceeded to point her fingers like a child playing cops and robbers out across the room.

Uh oh.

Donnie wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish, but it was plain they had been found out and she was upset.

"I know you're out there," she called. "Don't try anything. I won't hesitate to use this!"

She blinked hard and stared into the darkness like that would magically melt the shadows away. She couldn't see them. The location of the candle, strategically positioned by Leo, guaranteed it.

"I don't think it's loaded, kid," Raphael snarked.

Gah! Raph! Impatient as ever.

Sharra's face pinched as he continued, "Yeah, we can see ya' just fine."

Annnd so much for stealth for the rest of us.

"There is no need for further violence."

When Leonardo eventually spoke, it was with his most soothing tone. The serene almost sleepy voice he only got when returning from a successful session of deep meditation.

Or... after sexual release.

Don twisted to examine Leo sharply.

Was he—the stone-faced, monk-like warrior—affected by the way Sharra held Mike as well?

Donnie surreptitiously sniffed. If he was, nothing gave it away, other than his tone of voice. Leo's unique musk wasn't present in the air. At least, not in the concentrations it would be if he had... acted on what they'd seen

And he's not wearing a suit to conceal his pheromones.

Sharra was not soothed. "Come out where I can see you!" she demanded.

Leo ought to have picked up the candle and brought his face into sharp focus right away.

That's what I would do.

But stealth was too ingrained in Leonardo's nature. He didn't stop to consider how terrifying the unfolding shadows would appear to the uninitiated. Or maybe he did, but thought she would recognize his shape since Sharra evidently knew Mikey's so well.

Whatever his reasoning, his entrance did not have the desired effect. Sharra yelped and backed away.

Donnie's heart pounded in appreciation when she didn't retreat alone. She grabbed hold of Michelangelo and attempted to pull him out of harm's way. Not surprisingly, she only shifted him a few feet. And Mike was so out of it he didn't stir. But the gesture was astonishing.

Her next move had him openly gaping again. This time in pure awe.

Obviously, Sharra was terrified but instead of abandoning Mikey, she took a defensive position over him. Straddling his vulnerable head and neck she made herself as big a blockade as possible, spreading her arms.

Then she growled. Actually, literally, growled. Like a cornered animal, baring her teeth.

"Stay away from us!"

Leonardo shifted slowly to the side. Treating her as an unpredictable, startled, wild beast. He eased into the light.

The tension lessened for a second as she registered his familiar skin tone —until their eyes met. Sharra raised a hand to her throat in shock, instantaneously making the connection between Leo and the attack on the rooftop.

Her eyes darted over him in alarm, came to rest on his sword, and all the blood drained from her face. Her already pale skin turned nearly translucent. She shuddered violently and it was Don's turn to swallow a protective growl.

She remembers all right.

Leonardo became a statue, not moving a muscle as he held her gaze. Sorrow tinted his iris bluer than normal, but he didn't say a word.

"Who are you?"

Look at her shaking. If Leo doesn't do something this instant I will step in. Leader or not...

Raphael evidently had the same thought, but his interpretation of 'something' was not comforting either.

"Don't ya mean what are we?"

Donatello turned and shot the hothead a fierce glare. 'NOT HELPING!' he mouthed, knowing Raph could read his lips.

Where does he get off saying that anyway? Mikey must have explained our origin. And apparently, she doesn't care! She's not afraid of Leo because he's a turtle. She fears him because he HURT her!

But perhaps the comment did help, for Sharra's shaking subsided a little at the challenge. Some color returned to her face and she shot a rather annoyed glance in the direction of Raph's voice.

"I meant exactly what I said, who are you?"

Leonardo lowered his sword to rest against his knees and bowed, bending his head and upper torso to her in deep respect. His voice when he spoke again resonated with the same sensual timber as before.

"My name is Leonardo."

Sharra flushed, staring at Leo's lips as though entranced. He waited patiently for her to raise her eyes before continuing.

"I owe you a profound apology, Miss Sharra. I treated you as an enemy when you risked much to be an ally. Your actions should not have been met with such... disrespect."

It was the most formal apology Don had ever heard Leonardo make. He blinked in surprise, wondering what Leo was thinking.

Either he had one hell of a conversation with Splinter, or Sharra impressed him.

"My blade and those of my team are at your disposal, should you ever need them," Leonardo promised. And he offered her his sword.

Don's jaw was getting tired of hanging open.

Those katana are Leo's most prized possession. Nobody but him touches them. Ever.

"Your team?" Sharra's eyes once again raked the darkness, filled with unease.

"You have nothing to fear from us," Leonardo reassured her.

"Events would argue otherwise. How many are you? Where are the others?"

The tiniest sigh escaped Leo as he withdrew the sword and sheathed it.

That wasn't some formality. He's really disappointed she didn't touch the hilt!

But Donatello didn't have time to marvel over the morsel of information, because Leo was finally getting around to the introductions Donnie had been waiting for.

"Don? Raph? Show yourselves."

Freed by the command, Donatello did what he wanted to do ten minutes ago. He snatched up the candle, moving the flame closer so his face was easily seen. Sharra met his gaze and her brow furrowed, but whatever caused her concern passed without incident.

She turned away from him to watch Raphael approach from across the room. Her composure held until Raph stepped into the light.

Sharra's eyes widened, her lower lip trembled. She stumbled back, covering her mouth. A horrible, beaten whimper of the kind she made in her sleep escaped her lips. And she collided with the wall behind her, unable to retreat any further.

Raphael started toward her, 'What the hell?' clearly written on his face.

"Stop him!" Don demanded in a vehement whisper. "Raph triggered her outside, and he's about to again! She's having a panic attack."

"Raph, stay where you are," Leonardo commanded. "We won't hurt you, Miss Sharra. How can we put your mind at ease?"

Leo's assurances were too little, too late. He glanced at Donnie, asking for options as Sharra hyperventilated and shivered herself to pieces in front of them.

"I've got this," Don said in an undertone, "Follow my lead. Just stay calm and Don't. Do. Anything. Okay?"

When they both nodded Donatello leaned forward and captured Sharra's gaze. The frantic expression in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, but there wasn't time to assess why. She was about to lose consciousness.

Don closed his eyes and slipped into his role as caretaker, as easily as breathing.

"Look at me, Sharra..."

Calming her shouldn't have taken his breath away, but the warmth that heated Donatello's insides as her dark eyes calmed and she regained control made him feel a hundred feet tall. His brothers frightened her beyond words, but he was able to talk her down—without even moving from his chair.

Her gaze stayed locked on his the entire time and he had to admit, it felt good.

The moment didn't last, however. Leonardo distracted her again by offering an intellectual tidbit about Mikey she couldn't refuse.

"Would you feel better if I woke my brother?"

"Brother?" Sharra repeated, her eyes snapping to Leo as if the relationship never occurred to her.

"Ya don't see the resemblance?" Raph taunted.

Don sent him another sharp glare. But just as with Raph's previous comment, this one bore unexpected results. Sharra's brows drew together. Anger flared in her eyes.

"Looking similar doesn't make you related. And being family doesn't necessarily make you friendly. Even to each other."

Don had to admit while Raphael was not putting her at ease, he was getting her to reveal a lot of information.

She froze up outside when he pinned her down— A natural response to repeated sexual trauma. She reacts to the color of his bandana which I bet she associates with the Foot Soldiers. And from her defensiveness, she was betrayed, horribly, by a family member.

Put all that together with the scars Donatello noted on her body, and the resulting picture of her life wasn't pretty. In fact, her history was probably worse than Don imagined.

Gaining her trust won't be easy. Time to turn on the charm. And that requires Mikey.

"An astute observation," Donatello agreed aloud. "Leo, I think we should wake him. He needs to move. With the power out, we've got no heat source and it's getting too cold in here to sit still."

Leonardo reacted immediately, rising to his feet and bending to tap a distinct pattern lightly on Michelangelo's shoulder. They were all conditioned to rouse at that code. The right one was required, though Mikey's was wounded.

The left is reserved for 'danger.' A silent call to wake for battle.

A lifetime of training overrode weakness, injury, even medication, and Michelangelo's eyes opened instantly—looking to Leo for guidance.

"Is it time to go?" Mikey asked with a tired smile, sweeping his gaze across them.

When he caught sight of Sharra cowering against the wall, however, his easy grin died. He pushed himself half upright, leaning on his left arm, and struggled to free his right from the confining clothing.

"Sharra? You're awake! How are you feeling? What's wrong?"

Michelangelo's face hardened as he took in her clenched fists and fearful pinched expression. He turned to glare at the others, twisting to block her from their line of sight.

"What's going on? Why are the lights out? You trying to scare my girl here?"

Leonardo's face didn't change a hair, but Donatello shot Raphael a sharp look. Raph nodded back. Mikey was smitten, no doubt about it. He wouldn't turn his back on anyone he didn't trust completely and his protective posture sealed the deal.

"No, Michelangelo. The lights are off because the power is out," Leo explained with quiet patience, and Don noted the leader's voice had returned to its normal cool tone.

"It's not time to leave yet. I woke you to reassure Sharra."

"He says you're family," Sharra whispered from behind Michelangelo's shell.

Mikey slumped, his energy draining once he realized Sharra wasn't in danger. He turned in her direction and managed to summon a sheepish lopsided smile.

"Guess I forgot to mention my brothers, huh?"

Sharra shrugged and looked away but the tense fear in her posture receded somewhat.

"You're close?"

Mikey nodded. Eventually, his right arm cleared the sleeve with which he battled, and he gingerly took her hand.

Don's stare fixated on the point of contact. He waited, ready to leap forward to comfort his brother after her fearful rejection. After all, Mikey had no clue about Leo's dramatic introduction, Sharra's panic attack, or her triggers; but miraculously Sharra didn't draw away.

"They always got my shell," Mikey explained, ducking his head and trying to meet her gaze. "No matter what, they come through."

His face fell when she didn't respond. "I am sorry about the way they treated you. It's so not how we work. Like I told you before, dad raised us to be about protecting people."

"This is all my fault," he added, a desperate tinge to his voice. "I didn't tell them I was leaving. I wrecked my phone and disappeared for days. They didn't know what happened to me."

Leonardo had eased back, giving the two of them space, but planted his fist in his palm and gave Sharra another half-crouched bow of respect.

"Michelangelo is right," Leo said. "This is not how we normally operate. Once again, I apologize for our aggression. We saw his fight on your computer before the power outage. You saved him from a terrible fate. The Foot are age-old enemies of our clan and would not have shown him any mercy."

Sharra flinched at the mention of the Foot, but as Leo returned to his seated position she raised her chin and fixed her dark gaze steadily on him.

"You must have been frantic."

Leo's bland expression never wavered but his eyes widened ever so slightly. Sharra didn't register the motion, but to the turtle brothers, that small signal was equivalent of a shout. The forgiveness in her tone took him by surprise.

Leonardo inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of her statement without elaborating.

"Thank you," Donatello blurted.

There was an awful lot of apologizing going on and not near enough thanking.

Mikey would be dead if not for her.

Sharra's head twisted in his direction and he flushed again under her questioning gaze, glad she did not have the heightened eyesight of his brothers to notice his color shift in the dark. With his vocabulary, he ought to have been more eloquent, but this type of discussion was not something he was prepared for.

Outside of April, Don didn't speak to girls. He had held plenty of virtual discussions. Online forums were a boon to mutants.

But a face-to-face conversation with an appealing woman our own age? Hasn't ever happened.

Since she was calmer and he no longer had to react in a knee-jerk manner to her symptoms, he was having trouble stringing two words together.

The depth of gratitude in his chest was also new. Of course, he appreciated all the assistance April rendered over the years. She was family in her own right. A big sister. And the support Casey provided—especially to Raph when he went out on his own—was invaluable.

But this situation was different. Sharra had no idea who or what they were. Yet she risked her life to shelter Mikey. She bent her considerable skills to the task of erasing his digital trail. She dirtied her hands with his blood. She gave up her bed. She went hungry so he might eat.

She lied with a katana to her throat, for heaven's sake. Well enough to fool Leo! And fought against Raph—all to avoid giving Mikey away.

Sharra displayed a level of sacrifice he was unprepared for.

Donatello didn't really know what to say or how to voice his emotions.

But I'll be damned if I don't at least start with 'Thank you!'.