Moonlight Mutation (A TMNT Fanfic)

Chapter 5: Reluctant Rescue

Destiny slumps against the stone wall between two dumpsters, eyes screwed shut and hand clapped firmly on her aching shoulder. Her ruined shirt now looks even more like she's literally wearing a rag, seeing as she tore off a long strip along the hem to tie up her arrow wound and try to stop the bleeding.

She spent a whole day sleeping inside a cardboard box, feebly nursing her wounds, and trying to come up with some great idea for forgetting the absolute discomfort she finds herself in. She couldn't go to Murakami at the time, seeing as daytime means customers and customers mean "No Destiny allowed".

Now, she's laying here amongst the trash, wishing she could find the strength to get up and limp to somewhere that smells a little nicer. Every time she tries to stand up, her ankle gives out and she ends up on the ground. It wasn't even that bad of a sprain before she went running off down the streets in wolf form.

Destiny closes her eyes, letting out a pitiful whimper as she watches the darkening sky. Another mundane day in the mundane life of Destiny. She imagines a soft bed and a warm fireplace. If fantasizing about comfort will make it easier, she'll deal.

A hand grasps her good shoulder, making her gasp sharply as her eyes fly open. The sky is darker, the moon and stars are out, and those four turtles from the other night are staring down at her.

"I fell asleep," she says, her voice groggy.

"Apparently," the purple-masked turtle says. "That can't be comfortable. Here, let us—"

He bends down and reaches a large hand out to her, and her sleepiness evaporates as terror takes over again and she feels absolutely threatened. Her exhaustion only serves to heighten it.

"NO!" she snaps, making him jump back. She grips the nearest dumpster handle, hauling herself up to her feet no matter how much her ankle screams at her. "No, don't touch me. I don't need your help."

"Well sorry, princess, but you aren't looking too hot," the red-masked turtle comments, his bright green eyes standing out in the dark.

Destiny decides to refrain from answering. She coughs, trying to inch her way out from the dumpster crevice without bringing too much attention to the pain she's in. Along the way, she has to pass each turtle and by doing so, it allows her to scent catalogue them; something that she tends to do with anyone she meets, just in case she needs to remember them for certain reasons. It's like remembering someone's face, but slightly more reliable.

She passes the turtle in orange, forcing herself not to wrinkle her nose. He smells faintly like pizza ingredients, but that only serves to partially cover the fishy stink coming off of him.

She scoots past the purple-masked turtle, who smells like chemicals, metal, and smoke. It's like he's constantly working around a garage or somewhere with lots of fires.

Red could use a shower. The spice scent she catches when she passes him only masks some of the sweat musk that's permeating his skin.

The last turtle she passes is the one in blue, and he's the one who smells the nicest in her opinion. Amongst the teenage boy scent that all of them possess, he smells like incense and candles.

Their eyes lock as she finally gets out of the space, and for a moment, all she can do is stay still. His eyes hold so much authority yet so much emotion. She looks away, her attention darting to a backpack hanging over his shoulder.

"Hey, that's mine!" she says, pointing at it. Her eyebrows bunch together as her lip curls. "You did steal it."

The turtle's face instantly floods with panic. "W-What? No! I didn't...we wanted to return it to you! You left it behind after you ran and we...uh...we didn't..." He gulps and takes it off his shell, holding it out to her as his eyes go wide. "Here. Everything is still there."

Her suspicion doesn't disappear as she slowly takes the backpack. She opens it, doing an inventory of everything within before zipping it back up. She pulls it over her good shoulder and nods curtly.

"Well, thank you. I'll just be on my way," she says.

"Wait, dudette, we owe you a pizza!" the orange-masked turtle says. She gives him a questioning look as his smile turns sheepish. "We kinda ate yours. Didn't want them going bad, y'know?" He rubs the back of his neck, rolling back and forth on this feet.

"Oh..." she mumbles. "I don't mind. I couldn't eat it all by myself anyway," she continues, her tone rushed. "Alright then, bye."

She takes one step and her leg buckles. The blue-masked turtle lunges forward and catches her, his arms surrounding her rather securely as he pulls her back up. She sucks in between her teeth, blinking away the tears building in her eyes.

"Please let go..." she whispers, her voice about to break.

"You're in no condition to go off on your own," he responds, although he loosens his grip around her a little. She wipes her face of all emotion and lets out a long breath. "Look, we want to apologize for destroying your home and, uh...momentarily stealing your backpack," he admits further. "We can take you back to our place, patch you up, get you that pizza we owe you...sounds good, right? You could tell us about who attacked you!"

She flicks her tail, looking over at the other three turtles. Two of them offer a wave and a smile, allowing Destiny to see that Purple has a gap between his front teeth. Red just rolls his eyes, looking utterly done with this conversation.

"No thanks, I'll handle it," Destiny says, shoving away from Blue's grip and instantly causing fiery spiderwebs to shoot up her arms and make her head go dizzy. She reaches out and grasps the dumpster lid to steady herself. "I always find some way of handling it."

The blue-masked turtle frowns a little at her words. She fidgets beneath his gaze. The way he looks at her is stirring, especially since she's never had anyone look at her like that before, much less a boy. It makes her stomach churn, and not in a sick or hungry way.

"This happens often?" Red asks, amusement and disbelief in his voice. "You getting attacked?"

She looks at her feet, her vision wobbling. "Well...no," she admits. "I'll just go, okay? Forget you ever saw me. That'll just work better if—"

She stumbles onto her bad foot, the weak appendage giving out beneath her weight so that she pitches backwards with a sharp gasp, smashing her head against the dumpster and making her head spin. She collapses to the ground, her eyelids fluttering slowly and every sound becoming muffled.

She watches as the turtles rush forward, the turtle in blue kneeling down next to her. Everything takes its toll on her all at once—the fight, the lack of proper food since the fight, her injuries, the lack of sleep—and her eyes slide shut as she goes totally limp.

Leonardo checks her pulse gently, exhaling in relief when he finds it. For a second, he thought she had literally broken her neck on a dumpster. Talk about a dumb way to die.

"Alright, you're coming with us," he mutters, hoisting her into his arms and getting back to his feet.

"Dude, she must've been exhausted," Michelangelo says, peering at her with awed eyes. He grins even wider. "She's so weird! I like it!"

"I don't know what to think about this girl other than she's stubborn as a mule," Raphael says, brushing past his enigmatic brother with a heavy sigh. "Let's just get home and take care of her, okay?"

"Maybe we can actually get her name when she wakes up?" Donatello suggests, pinching the space between his eyes. "Perhaps some introductions could go around? Because right now, we're just four nameless turtles in her mind, and she's a nameless wolf mutant."

"There's time for that later," Leonardo says. "For now, this 'nameless wolf mutant' is our first priority. Now come on."

Without another word, he takes off for the lair. The other turtles cast short glances between themselves, shrug, and follow after their brother and their odd new guest.