• Aiding •

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It was surprising, how difficult it was to navigate the rooftops and fire escapes, pick a lock on a window, and help an injured mutant turtle into one's apartment, all during a thunderstorm and while trying to remain in the shadows, all while sporting a thoroughly concussed skull and cut and bleeding sternum.

Okay, looking back on it, perhaps it wasn't as surprising as it seemed.

Faline pushed the oxygen out of her lungs and inhaled just as quick, helping the injured Leonardo into her bedroom, blowing a piece of dropping blonde hair out of her vision. Even within her clean, neat room, the scent of weed lingered from the living room, reaching both their noses from the slightly ajar door. She saw Leo wrinkle his nose slightly, and apologized hurriedly, "Sorry, my brother and his friends must've had a little pot party earlier."

She witnessed the turtle's expression morph, from confusion, to shock, to suspicion. He warily peered at the tiny sliver of the hallway visible through the cracked door, then squinted at Faline quizzically, his lack of words speaking volumes to her.

"No, I don't do drugs," she said with a huff, "That would be my brother."

She removed his arm from around her shoulders, gently pushing his shoulders down and making him sit on her window seat, ignoring his dubious expression. With a grunt, she gently massaged the lump on her head.

"I'll be back," she assured, turning on her heel and disappearing into another room, what Leonardo assumed was the bathroom.

His ocean blue eyes swept the small bedroom, pinpointing details of Faline's tiny dwelling. Tons of pictures, seemingly ripped out of magazines or books of some kind, were scattered around the walls, each held in place with a single thumbtack. There were photos of sunsets, countrysides, oceans stretching into the distance. Leonardo recognized a few places in the pin-ups - Tokyo, Rio de Janeiro, London, Paris... He grinned softly as his head swiveled to the gigantic world map tacked above the headboard of Faline's tiny day bed, even more multicolored tacks dotted cities and landmarks globally, though he noticed only one black tack -directly in the center of the small dot labeled 'New York City'.

Faline shouldered open the door, her sweatshirt discarded and revealing a simple white shirt, torn slightly at the collar and stained with her own blood, though its source had already been masked with a bandage across her chest. Her emergency first aid kit and a bundle of other supplies were piled in her arms, hair still matted against her head from the rain. Leonardo made a move to stand up, to be greeted with a sharp pain throughout his ribcage and along his carapace. He sucked in a breath, collapsing back into his seat, multiplying the aching tenfold. Faline was by the turtle's side instantly, frowning slightly in concern.

"What's wrong?"

Leonardo paused, debating whether he should tell her that this same pain had been plaguing him the whole journey to her home. He decided to leave that bit out.

"I...I think I got my shell knocked loose," he finally told her.

"Your...shell...," Faline's eyes roamed momentarily to his plastron, curiosity prodding her as she watched him clutch at where his ribcage would be located beneath his carapace. "How can I help?"

Leonardo glanced at her, his mouth forming a tight line as he contemplated something. After a long lull of silence, he gently reached for both her hands, placing her palms against his chest and curling her fingers of the top of his plastron. Faline let him guide her hands into position, face unchanging, though her thoughts ran rampant through her brain, trying to predict his next move.

"When I tell you," He ordered softly, setting his own, abnormal hands on either side of him, palms flat against the window seat, "You need to pull to the left. I have to rotate the other way, so don't stop when I resist."

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