. . .At first, I don’t know where I am.  It’s hard to move, and my head is throbbing.  I open my mouth to speak, but only manage a moan.  I can’t even open my eyes.  A distant-sounding voice drifts to me:  “Hey guys, I think she’s awake!”  It takes a great deal of effort, but I finally manage to pull my eyes open; everything is blurry and fuzzy.  A indistinguishable shape hovers in my line of sight.  Fear begins to rise in me as my memory takes me back to Jackson and his thugs. . . But wait!  Raphael!  The Turtles!!  I bring a weak hand up to rub my eyes and my vision slowly clears.  Raph and Mike are standing over me, while Don holds my wrist and watches the clock.
     “. . . Raph. . .”  I manage to croak.
     He immediately crouches next to me, gently putting a hand to my brow, “Yeah, I’m here.”
     “. . . go. . .”
     “Huh?”  Michaelangelo glances at Leo who is now standing next to him.
     “. . . I have to GO!!”  I cry, thoughts of my ill friend erupting in my brain.  I shove back the blanket that covered me and struggle to rise from the couch.  Raphael and Donatello keep me from getting up while Mikey croons, “Woah, babe, slow down, Relax. . .”
     “Relax!?  How can I relax!?!  I CAN’T relax!!!”  I gotta save Wendy!!”  My mind was whirling, I was so disoriented.  Again, I tried to stand, but was pulled down.
     “You’re not going anywhere,” Don’s voice was firm.
     Raph gently took my face in his hands to focus my eyes on him, “Tell us what this is all about.  We can’t help you unless you tell us!”  His voice and the concern in his eye helped me start to get a grip.
     Splinter entered with a tray of tea-things.  His presence seemed to calm my nerves even more.  Now I knew why the rat had made me feel comfortable when I first met him:  He reminded me of Tachi.  Master Splinter’s eyes met mine as he offered a tea cup, “This will help you feel better,” he said “as you explain to us what this is all about.”
     Raph put a comforting arm around my shoulders.  I sighed, defeated, and sat back against him, trying to pull my tangled thoughts together.  Splinter filled our cups with tea, but it was forgotten by all once my story began to unravel:  “This is a tale about science, or the misuse of it.  And of a facility called ‘T.G.R.I’. . .”

     I had lost track of time as I completed the recap of my mutant life.  I turned my eyes to each of them, studying their expressions:  Shock, sadness, anger, so much to read.  I drew in a shuttering breath, “That’s why I have to go.  Wendy could already be dead.  I-I made a-a promise. . .”
     Leonardo straightened in his seat, a certain mode setting in.  “There’s nothing we can do tonight--”
     “You mean this morning,” Mike piped up.
     “--The best thing for us to do is get some sleep.  We’ll start planning strategies early.”  He lay a hand on my knee when he saw my mouth open to protest,  “We all need to rest, especially you.”  His voice had a quiet tone, but he spoke with much power, a natural leader.  Leo’s stern demeanor was broken when a smile lit up his face, “Won’t do your friend much good if you can’t kick those jerks’ butts.”
     I sighed and nodded, to exhausted to return the grin, “Yeah, you’re right.”
     Don leaned toward me and sniffed, “Now how about we point you toward the shower.”  He chuckled at my withering look and said, palms up, “Just kidding!”

     I quietly stepped out of the bathroom. allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim light.  I decided to follow up on Donnie’s advice and shower before turning in.  Splinter gave me shampoo, conditioner, and a comb to use.  It took forever to get the comb through my thick tangled curls.  The warm water was refreshing and my hair was damp but clean.  I stood, debating on whether I should head for the living room and the couch, or follow the dim glow of candle light coming from Raph’s room.
    It didn’t take long to decide on a soft bed--and a warm body--over a lumpy couch.  I walked softly into his room, my vision accustom to the yellow light.  Standing over the bed, I noticed Raphael was prepared for my visit: He was lying on the side closest to where I was standing, leaving the other side and a pillow vacant.  I peered down at the sleeping form:  Raph was on his back, covers pulled up only to his waist, candle light glowing on his smooth green skin.  I watched his chest rise and fall with each deep, steady breath.  My eyes traveled up to his face--calm, peaceful. . . he looked beautiful.  My heart seemed to swell in my ribcage with love for him.  A sigh escaped me, and Raph’s eyes fluttered open.  Slowly, they focused on me, and a grin spread on his face.
     “Hi,” I whispered shyly.
     “Hi.”  His voice was slightly hoarse; Reaching up over his head, he stretched with a huge yawn.  Then patted the empty side of the bed, “Room for one more.  You comin’ in?”
     I cocked my head thoughtfully for a moment, then moved for the bed.  But instead of going around to the other side, I heafed one leg up and over Raph, climbing atop him.  I giggled as shock spread on his face, then a grin as I continue over. I smiled at him as I come to rest next to him on my side, “Comfy?” I asked.
     “Quite,” he whispered, flicking a bit of hair from my forehead and out of my face.
     I curl up a bit closer and sigh coentently, feeling very safe for one of the few times in my life.  “I’m so happy I met you,” I said softly.
     Raphael smiled back, reached down, and pulled the covers up over both of us, “So am I.”

     When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that I was alone.  I groggily propped myself up on one elbow and brushed my hair away from my face.  The clock read 7:32 am.  Sinking back down, I groaned.  Too early!  I lay for a moment longer, then sat up with a sigh. . . Wendy!!  Now wide awake, I immediately went toward the kitchen and voices.  I didn’t care that my hair was probably wild and a mess, or that I didn’t have my sword or belt.  Three Turtles and Splinter were sitting around the table while Mike stood at the stove cooking breakfast--french toast from the smell.  All eyes turned to me as I stood in the door way.  No one spoke for a moment, then Mike asked, with a large grin, “Hungry?”
     I smiled and nodded, “Thanks Mikey.”  Raph offered the seat next to him.  I walked around behind him, leaned down, and kissed his cheek before sitting.  Something passed between Leo and Don--I’m sure I felt it--but the feeling was gone as quickly as it had come.
     Michaelangelo set a stack of french toast before me as Leo started in a business-like manner, “Now, tell us about the Facility.  Possible penetration points, security, stuff like that.”
     I told them everything:  The layout of the building, cameras and guards, security points and monitoring rooms, possible entry points.  I barely ate half of the food on my plate.  The wrongness of what I had thought of as life made the french toast turn to rocks in my belly, and to clay in my mouth.  What seemed like hours later, we were done.  I released a shuttering sigh and leaned back in my chair.  “Donnie, there’s something you’ll need to do before we’ll be able to leave the facility.”
     Don’s eyes came up from behind his notes,  “What’s that?”  All looked at me with interest.
     “There’s a room I haven’t told you about.  That’s probably because it scares me more that anything I’ve spoke of.”  I took a deep breath and gathered my courage.  I felt the way I had so many years ago, when Wendy and I saw it for the first time.   “The lowest level of the compound is all one big room.”
     “It must be huge!”  Mike’s eyes were wide.
     “I think it’s Their research library; where They keep all Their records and all of the evidence of us Creations existing.  How we were made, what was done before, during, and after mutation. . . and how long we lived.  All that info must be stored on the computer banks in the room.  Each Creation is given a number.  It’s on the door to their room, and I guess it’s how They have us filed on the computers. . . “  My voice had begun to shake as the horrible memory unfolded.  Raph took my hand and squeezed.  I bit back my fear and continued, “In this room there is a line of computers.  Don, if you can, I need you to hack in and distroy all the data on or about mutation.”
     The Turtle cracked his knuckles and grinned at me, “No problem.”
     “But,” I swallowed the lump in my throat, “that’s not all that’s in the room.  You need to know what else you’ll see.” feeling my gore rise, I bit my lower lip in an effort to surpress it.  The french toast flip-flopped in my belly.  The Turtles and Splinter waited patiently for me to continue.  “The room is full of chambers.  It’s where They keep all of the Creations that didn’t survive.”  I told them about Wendy and I seeing the half-formed mutations, the expressions on their faces, the terror and sadness.  The feeling of seeing my own tube, empty and waiting.  Thoughts of Calla brought tears pricking to my eyes.  At last, my voice stopped and I was able to meet their gazes as the horrible reality of what I just told them sunk in.
     “My God,” Leo shook his head.
     “Such a waste of life,” Splinter’s voice was sad.
     “Now there’s a decision to make.”  I looked them each in the eye.  “If all that’s in this room is left where it is, there’s always the chance what’s happened there can happen again. . .”
     “So, you think we should distroy all evidence of the Creations ever existing?”  Leo’s brow furrowed.
 I shook my head slowly, my gaze locked with his, “No.  I think we should distroy all evidence of the FACILITY ever existing.”
     Don leaned into the conversation, “How do you propose we do that?”
     I shrugged, “I don’t know. . . I think--”
     “I think we should focus on the task at hand,” Raph’s voice was gruff.
     Leo looked angry at Raphael’s interruption, but I nodded, “Wendy’s all that matters now.”
     “Ok, then.”  Leo’s eyes swept the table.  “Tonight, we hit them.
     Mike’s demeanor changed visibly as he stood and took my hand.  “Come on, let’s go watch ‘The Price is Right’.”
     “The Price is what?”  I was baffled.
     “Oy!  You’ve got a lot to learn!”  Raph joined the game as the two led me to the living room, Mike running at the mouth:
 “This, is ‘TV’. . .”