"She's the scientist."

Donatello's smile is wide and slightly unnerving, especially for the residents of the lair whom haven't seen him smile in weeks. His brothers glance at one another with raised eyebrows. Destiny's gaze flits to where Subject is seated on the couch, seemingly staring at nothing.

"The scientist?" Raphael repeats. "Like the one Renet mentioned?"

"Yes!" Donatello exclaims. He gets shushed and he instantly lowers his voice. "Subject could be it: the sixth member of our team!"

"Dude, you really think so?" Michelangelo gasps. "That's awesome!"

"That seems right, I mean...Renet said she based her costume off the scientist and the two of them have some..." Destiny eyes Subject's bald head for a second, mulling over her next word. "I don't know; similarities."

Leonardo's lips form a tight line, his arms shifting to a more comfortable, crossed position. "We can't be sure of anything. For now, make sure that she's watched."

Donatello glances over his shoulder to where the cyborg is still seated. He turns back to his family, heaving a sigh. "I'll watch her, I swear," he promises. "I'm the one who wanted to save her, I'll be the one looking out for her."

"Good," Raphael says. He cracks his neck and lets out a long breath. "Better you than me."

Michelangelo smiles widely. "Dudes, I don't know about you, but I love making new friends. It's so exciting," he admits. "But, she needs a better name than Subject."

Right on cue, there's a call from the couch. "Donatello?" The group looks to Subject as she turns, staring blankly at Donatello. "I am feeling rather unpleasant at the moment. Do you have sustenance?"

His eyes widen and he feels his face flush with heated embarrassment. "Oh, you're hungry," he says, running one hand over his head. He starts towards her. "I'm so sorry, I should've fed you sooner. It's probably been hours since you ate."

Her eyes flash and she stares up at the wall. "It has been fifteen hours since my last meal."

"Fifteen—oh my shell." He reaches down and grasps her hand, pulling her to her feet and leading her from the living room pit. "I'll make you something."

He doesn't release her hand as he pulls her towards the kitchen, simultaneously ignoring the slightly teasing, wondering gazes of his family members still lingering nearby. Subject looks down at their joined hands and her eyes flash.

"Donatello, what is this gesture?" she inquires.

He stops abruptly in the kitchen entrance, turning to her. "What gesture?"

"This." She raises their hands between them. "It feels warm and secure. I find it pleasant."

His cheeks become pink and he gently releases his grip. "Sorry, that was just holding hands. I was showing you something, so...I grabbed your hand and used it to lead you."

She steps closer and reaches out, grasping his hand against hers again. She adjusts the hold slightly to accommodate his three fingers, her eyes flashing three times. He feels as if he just stuck his face over a hot stove.

"I like your way of leading. The Kraang would always seize me at the shoulders, underneath my armpits," she murmurs. "Your movements towards me are gentle, Donatello. I quite enjoy that, so I thank you."

He doesn't say anything for a moment as her bright blue eyes lock onto his brown. It's like, in that brief second, she scans through everything about him and he feels as if she knows his every secret, and yet...

His face lifts with a tiny smile, giving him a relaxed countenance. "You're...you're welcome," he breathes. Her lip twitches at the corner and he blinks, shaking his head. "Uh, food! Please, sit," he says with a harried gesture. "I'll...make you a sandwich. I'm not much of a chef, so, that's easy."

"Sandwich?" she echoes as she slides into the nearest chair.

Donatello is already working, pulling out bread, ham, vegetables, and condiments from a variety of cupboards in their ragtag little kitchen. Subject watches him move in silence, zoning out to the rhythm of his hands sweeping mayo onto bread and laying ham, lettuce, cheese on it with precision. He finishes and places it in front of her with a slight flourish.

She gazes at it for a second before she slowly reaches out and takes it in her hands. She lifts it to her mouth and bites down, lingering for a moment before tearing the chunk away and starting to chew. Her eyes flash rapidly and she gasps.

"Oh my...there's flavour! Fascinating," she mutters, chewing faster as she takes another almost ravenous bite. "I...I feel..." Somewhere in her head beeps and she stops chewing to stare wide-eyed at Donatello. "I feel amazed. Is that good?"

He smiles and nods, sitting down in front of her. "Yes, it is."

She keeps eating, occasionally stopping to examine pieces of food that slip from between the bread or from her mouth. As she's finishing up her crusts, her intelligent, watchful eyes travel back to the turtle before her. He's staring aimlessly at the wall behind her.

"What did Michelangelo say about me getting a better name?" she asks. Donatello blinks and she continues, "I have a name. I am Subject 60184."

"That's not a real name," he says. "It's a number. It's reducing you to something less than human."

She leans forward and rests her head on her hand. "That is true," she nearly whispers. "What shall my name be, then?"

He ponders that for a moment, hands folded over his mouth, before he shrugs. "Honestly? I'd ask Mikey. He's good with naming things."

"I shall go find the one called Michelangelo. Farewell for now."

She stands and leaves the kitchen, abandoning her empty plate. There's no sign of anyone in the living room. The pinball machine is dead silent, the TV is turned off with the milk crate of DVDs tucked away next to it, and the laboratory doors are open just enough to let Subject see that nobody is in there either.

She blinks and her pupils slide over to where the thin walls of the dojo can be seen above the lair's pool. Subject gives one more sweep of the lair, then heads off for the dojo. Surely, she thinks, there must be someone in there who has seen Michelangelo.

Once she gets inside, however, there's no one except for a large rat sitting underneath a tree with a curved, spiralling trunk. His eyes are closed and his breaths are even, his whiskers twitching slightly.

"Where might I find the one called Michelangelo?" Subject asks.

His eyes snap open and a heavy sigh escapes his lips at the displeasure of having his meditation interrupted. He turns his head to her, surprise washing over his fuzzy face. "Who are you?" he asks.

"I am Subject 60184. Your sons and daughter have brought me here from TCRI," she explains without missing a beat. "Are you the one they call Splinter, Sensei, or father?"

Splinter clenches his jaw. "Yes, I am he. If you'll excuse me, I need to have a few words with my children."

He stands up and sweeps past Subject en route for the exit. She trails along behind him, far too intrigued by the human-sized rat not to follow. He stops at the lip of the pool, hands folded behind his back and eyebrows furrowed.

"LEONARDO! RAPHAEL! DONATELLO! MICHELANGELO!" Splinter calls. There's a brief pause before he adds, "DESTINY!"

Teenagers emerge from every hidden crevice in the lair and scramble into a hasty line before their Sensei. Splinter eyes each of them, making them stew in their nerves, before he clears his throat.

"Which one of you would like to explain why there is a stranger here?" he asks. His children stare at him and he steps aside, revealing Subject standing there with a blank expression, albeit her eyes are wide. "She happened across my meditation session."

Leonardo opens his mouth, but Destiny speaks first and drowns him out. "Donnie and I found her at TCRI. She wanted to come back with us, so..." Her ears flatten as she flashes a wary smile. "Uh...yeah, it was mostly Donnie's idea—"

"Hey! You didn't stop me!" Donatello says with a gasp, hand fluttering to his chest.

Michelangelo lets out a low whistle. "Thrown under the bus by the Desti-bear..."

Splinter's eyes narrow and Donatello gulps, starting to rub the back of his neck as his posture slowly deteriorates. "Consider it a rescue, Sensei!" he suggests. "She was trapped and she...er...she's a mutant too, like us! I...uh..."

"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Hamato, they were only trying to help me," Subject says as she skirts around the rat and stops at his side. She stares up at him, her eyes flashing once before she continues. "If I had not asked, they would have left me alone. Yet, I insisted, and here I am."

Leonardo lifts his hand. "She hasn't been a problem so far, and it's already been a few hours since—"

"A few hours?" Splinter repeats, his voice loud enough to spike the anxiety in all of them. "You notify me the instant there is someone new in our lair. We have discussed this!"

Raphael elbows Leonardo in the side. "Busted," he mutters.

"Shut up."

Michelangelo raises his hand and waves it. "Leo's right, Sensei," he says. "Even though she's part Kraang, she's been completely chill!"

Splinter lets out a low growl, eyes narrowing even further, and Donatello kicks Michelangelo in the shin. The orange-masked turtle squeaks and falls silent, but not before retaliating the hit with a sharp elbow to the arm. Destiny sighs and claps one hand over her face.

Splinter exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Donatello, please come with me to the dojo. We will discuss this matter privately. The rest of you..." They stiffen. "Keep an eye on our guest until we return."

There's a curt, slightly saddened, "Hai Sensei," from everyone except Subject. She doesn't react in any way save for blinking.

Splinter gives a jerking head motion and walks back to the dojo, Donatello dragging himself along behind him. Leonardo clears his throat and motions for the remaining others to follow him. Subject stands in place, head swivelling between the two retreating groups.

"Sub, hey," Destiny says. "Come on."

"Donatello—" she starts, pointing towards the dojo.

"Don't worry, Sensei probably won't hurt him," Raphael interrupts. He flashes a devious smile. "Much."

She looks almost concerned for a split second, but the neutrality returns swiftly. Leonardo rolls his eyes and places a hand on his forehead as Raphael chuckles to himself.

Subject blinks. "Oh, I almost forgot," she says, striding towards the others. "Michelangelo, could you help me with something?"

The youngest turtle's face lights up with a happy grin. "Waddup?" he asks.

"I require a new name, because according to Donatello, my current name is dehumanizing. I heard you are good for such endeavours."

"Yeah, if you want your name to be Super Robo Mecha Chick," Raphael grumbles.

"Aw man, you took my idea," Michelangelo whines.

"Is that a normal human name?" Subject asks.

Her face switches for the first time in a while, her eyebrows furrowing completely as her lips pucker. She gasps and her eyes start to flash rapidly. Raphael leaps back with a strangled noise, reaching for his sais only to find his belt empty.

The light stops as Subject shuts her eyes. When they open, they're normal again. "What is this new feeling? I do not know exactly what to think," she says, blinking a few times as her eyes stay wide.

"Oh, is it confusion? I have that effect on people," Michelangelo says proudly as he stretches his arms upwards, a content look on his face.

"Confusion, yes! See, I am learning already." Her neutral setting returns. "I was confused about human names." Raphael snorts and rolls his eyes as Leonardo glances sideways at Destiny, who shrugs.

Michelangelo puts a finger to his chin and furrows his brow. "So...names...names..." he hums.

"How about something simple?" Destiny offers. "There's too many eccentric names in this family already."

"But a common name like Sarah or Emily could be boring," Leonardo says. "No offence to any Sarahs or Emilies," he adds after a second, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Whatever it is, anything is better than Sub," Raphael comments. "It makes me hungry just saying it."

"Jenny? Keisha?" Michelangelo suggests.

"No," the other three say.

"Theresa—"

"Honestly, does she even look like a Theresa?" Destiny asks, gesturing to Subject.

Michelangelo pouts. "Well, sorry! I don't name normal people!"

"At this rate, maybe we should let her pick," Leonardo says.

"Searching name database," Subject announces, cutting off any further conversation.

The others stare at her as she stares into space, a whirring sound filling the air. There's a soft click and her eyes flash blue. She blinks and the lights shut off.

"I prefer the name Sarina. What do you think?" she asks.

"It's pretty," Destiny says. She looks her over and a tiny smile lifts her lips. "It suits you."

Subject straightens up slightly, still focused on some unknown point in the distance. "The meaning of the name Sarina is 'Princess, One Who Laughs'. Origin...Hebrew," she reports.

"One who laughs? Do you even know what a laugh is?" Raphael snaps, his tone harsher than required.

"Laugh; to make the spontaneous sounds and movements of the face and body that are the instinctive expressions of lively amusement and sometimes also of contempt or derision." Her eyes flash. If she could, she'd be smirking.

Raphael grits his teeth, a low growl resonating in his chest. "Smart aleck..."

"Is that what you refer to as a compliment?"

"You know what?" Leonardo cuts in, shooting Raphael a quick glare as he places himself between the two. "Sarina is a lovely name. It's just what you need."

"From now on, I am Sarina," the newly named cyborg says. She straightens up. "I am more human every second."