I awoke to the sound of the fire alarm.

I grunted in annoyance as I blinked my eyes open, grimacing slightly at the pang in my side as I struggled into a sitting position.

From outside the lab, I heard an angry voice shout, "Damn it, Donnie!"

Someone else's unfamiliar voice scolded, "Raphael!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Language Nazi! What, do you want me to shout 'Gosh Diddly Darn' instead?!"

I snorted at the fiery exchange, biting my tongue to keep from crying out as I threw the blanket off my legs and closed the front of the flannel I wore with my hand so that only the slightest bit of my entirely-bandaged torso could be seen. I glanced around until I saw the computer perched on the counter top, taking a deep breath and quickly standing, figuring I'd get the pain over with.

Sure enough, the stitches in my side tugged and strained at the skin surrounding my wound, making me stumble at just how sharp the agony was. Blinking away the tears, I inched toward the computer, my breathing ragged like I'd just run a marathon when my fingers eventually brushed the keyboard. My hands shaking, I opened the Chrome icon and typed in: TheSting.com .

The screen glitched, going completely black, except for a blinking cursor below the word, Username.

I glanced over my shoulder, the fire alarm sounding like a timer, ticking away the seconds while bodies shuffled just outside the lab door. I turned back to the screen and quickly jabbed at the keys, spelling out Orange Dust and hitting the Enter button.

Again, the screen glitched, switching Username for Password. My fingertips raced like fire across the keyboard, typing in: Venom191.

The screen froze, seconds ticking by, counted down by the constant blare of the fire alarm. A single drop of sweat trickled down my forehead as my body clenched its muscles reflexively, including the ones in my abdomen, causing my injury to ache.

A single white dot appeared on the screen. Then, two dots. Three dots. I smirked in triumph when the screen came to life, revealing a chiseled-featured man, snake bite piercings twitching as he sneered at me.

"Hayes," He spoke, cold voice smooth as silk while he leaned closer to the camera, "Where've you been?"

"I ran into a few...complications," I replied, letting my flannel shift slightly to show my wrappings, "But I promise you, Scorpion, I'll have the dough in by the end of the month."

"You better," He slumped back in the desk chair he sat in, picking at his thumbnail as he continued, "Where are you, anyway?"

"You ever heard of mutant turtles living in the sewers?"

Scorpion abruptly stopped his inspection of his nail beds, glancing up at me through the computer.

"I'm with them," I hurried on, "Some Purple Dragons took me down and now they're insisting that they nurse me back to health."

"Bring them to me."

I frowned. What? Why would he want that?

"Come again?"

"You heard me, Orange Dust," He spat my code name as if it were an insult, "If the Dragons have a quarrel with those freaks, they're worth bringing in for some questioning. Are they one of the mutants the Kraang made?"

"I dunno, probably. I don't know the details--"

"Then get to knowing," He interrupted coolly, "Once we've finished their interrogations, I know a few science labs who'd pay big time for a few new cadavers to dissect."

I gaped, completely appalled. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"Crystal clear," He shot back, "The question is, did you hear me?"

I clenched my jaw. "These guys aren't guinea pigs, Scorpion."

"Why do you care? You work for me, remember? So, as your employer, I'll grant you a clean slate if you do your job."

I froze. "Come again?"

Scorpion rolled his eyes, as if he was explaining the alphabet to a five year old. "You get those turtles, your debts disappear. No more constant fear of what happens when you don't pay me back."

"I--"

My voice trailed off when I heard someone shout outside, "--go check on Sadie..."

It was then I realized the beeping from outside had finally stopped. My fire alarm timer was up.

"Gotta go," I whispered, hitting the Escape button, returning to the Google Search as the door opened.

"Who're you?"I asked in confusion, eyeing the unfamiliar turtle warily. A blue mask was tied around his head, and his ocean blue eyes took me in carefully.

"Leonardo," He finally responded, his gaze shifting to the cot, "And you shouldn't be up."

"I feel fine," I assured, ignoring the pain that shot through me as I turned to face him, "What was with all the noise?"

"Donnie nearly blew up the microwave," Leonardo explained, completely deadpan, "We managed to stop the alarm, though. Why were you using the computer?"

Crap. What was I supposed to say? Oh, just having a nice video chat with my boss. By the way, I'm supposed to turn you in to him for some torturing. Does noon tomorrow work for you?

I sighed, putting on a light-hearted grin. "Me? Just checking YouTube. Can't live without those cat videos, am I right?"

He didn't reply, and kept staring at me, waiting for me to cave and admit to what I was really doing. I twirled the ends of my hair together in a show of innocence, leaning against the counter as casually as possible with my injury preventing comfortable movement.

"Alright," He walked toward me, eyes flicking to the search window before settling back on me, "You think you can walk out to the kitchen? I made pancakes."

I straightened a bit in excitement, "Pancakes?"

He chuckled halfheartedly, the first sign of emotion I'd seen in him, and stepped over to place my arm over his shoulder, helping me walk. "Don't get your hopes up. Mine aren't nearly as good as when Mikey used to make them."

I nodded, though my mind switched to thoughts of the orange clad turtle. Why was everyone describing him in the past tense? It wasn't like he'd died or something. It was like the Mikey they were living with now was a completely different person – than one they used to know? I held back my exasperated sigh, my deductions going in circles about the turtle that had saved me.

Leonardo helped me into the kitchen, and sure enough, I noticed the corners of the microwave looked melted and singed.

"You better fix that up, Donnie," The blue clad mutant said, walking past the genius of the group, who was still wiping soot off his face.

"I'll get to it, Leo," Donnie snapped, tossing the dirtied rag into the sink, and then seeming to realize for the first time that I was here, "What are you doing on your feet? You need to wait at least another day before walking."

"I feel fine," I repeated stubbornly, hobbling over to the fridge and trying to bend to reach for some strawberries. Bad idea.

"Whoa, whoa," Leo grabbed my arms to steady me as I swayed, black spots dancing across my vision, "Maybe I should get that for you..."

"Fine," Donnie threw his hands in the air, "Don't listen to me. But if those stitches come out, find someone else to repair them."

"Donatello," Leonardo put in, "Calm down. Wasn't it you I heard this morning talking about the exercise Sadie would need to do to regain strength? Walking is the first step to that."

The intelligent terrapin huffed, "Just make sure she doesn't hurt herself," Before grabbing a mug from the shelf and reaching for the morning brew of coffee. Again, I lit up excitedly.

"Can I have some?"

Donnie glanced up at me, an almost territorial look about him as he gripped his coffee cup a bit more tightly, before his shoulders sagged and he reached for another mug.

"Donnie here is a caffeine addict," Leo muttered jokingly, the beginning of a teasing grin flitting across his face.

"Hey, you try staying up all night, every night. See if you don't need coffee to keep your eyes open," Donnie argued, though his gap was revealed when he smiled at his brother and handed me my cup. I sipped at the beverage happily, letting the warmth from the coffee spread through me.

"Thanks," I said gratefully, feeling better already.

Before anyone could say another word, Mikey walked in, orange mask hanging loosely around his neck, dark circles prominent.

"Mornin'," He muttered, baby blues finding each of his brothers before he locked eyes with me. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, before he tugged his mask up to its rightful place on his head and shuffled to the fridge.

"Hey Mikey," Leo greeted when no one said anything, watching his brother reach for some orange juice, "How'd you sleep?"

Mikey just shrugged, pouring some OJ into a glass and setting his elbows on the counter as he nursed the drink.

"Oh, you wanna go? You wanna go?" A voice in the living room suddenly cried.

I jumped slightly, blinking hard when my wound stung.

"You think you can take me? Bring it on, Small Fry!" A voice called back.

"Fine! The challenge begins now!"

I frowned, looking to each of the turtles gathered in the kitchen.

"That would be Annabeth and Raph making another bet," Donnie said nonchalantly, taking another swig of coffee.

I grinned, "Who's Raph? A bet? C'mon, let's go watch!"

"It's not that big a deal," Mikey called after me as I hurried to the living room. He sighed, looking to his brothers before straightening up and following me, saying to Donnie and Leo, "You comin', slowpokes?"