The cardinal bird is said to be a messenger between the spirit world and the physical world, promising renewal and protection to those that see it.

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Taylor's morning felt a little brighter than others. After spending some extra time with Raphael, her world seems less dark, less dreary, and she leaves her room with a slight skip in her step. Planning to go and buy some breakfast for herself, she starts towards the stairs only to run right into Hun.

"Taylor, it's time."

Her blood runs cold and fear flashes in her eyes. Her smile disappears. Two simple words, so meaningless without context, and yet they have singlehandedly obliterated her good mood. Stress radiates off of Hun like a heat lamp and his words sound like a sick joke.

"You need to finish your assignment," he snaps, focusing his glare on her.

She swallows and folds her hands behind her back. A few seconds pass and she's aware of everything. The Dragons that have already arrived are training again, their sparring grunts echoing in her ears, and Hun's glare makes her want to cower.

"I...I'm not sure it'll work," she says.

She regrets the words the second that they have left her mouth. Hun's nostrils flare and she imagines him as a charging bull, impaling her with sharp horns or trampling her with heavy hooves. He clenches his jaw and raises his eyebrows.

"It...won't...work?" he repeats. "What makes you think that?"

"I just...I think...uh..."

"SPIT IT OUT!" he bellows, making her knees wobble.

"I don't think that they trust me enough," she states.

"Your thoughts mean nothing. It's been weeks," Hun says, each word pointed. "Weeks...of robbing and pillaging and scavenging for those scientists and they keep demanding more. The want more from us, from me, and without those damned turtles—" He grits his teeth. "We. Have. Nothing."

She nods. "Sí, I know, jefe, but maybe they could find other mutants. They are tons out there, like that monkey—"

"NO!" He grabs her arm and yanks her closer, ripping his sunglasses off with his free hand.

"Hun—"

"They are paying me for those turtles and only those turtles," he snarls. "They wanted them days ago, weeks ago, but you insisted that this takes time. You've had enough."

"If I could just—"

"YOU GET NO MORE CHANCES!" His voice cracks and some of the other Purple Dragons look over at him, eyes wide. Hun grins, but it's crazed. The pressure is getting to him too. "They need to get this done. I need it gone and done and out of the way."

She nods, her arm starting to ache from his grip. "I completely understand. Mutacorp is a busy place, but...but..."

"I tried catching them myself or setting them up to get caught," he continues. "You remember very well. I alerted them so they could show up in their fake police cars and snag the turtles for themselves, but it didn't work. Those animals are too smart to fall for that." His grip tightens and she winces, fingers clenching. "Then it was distractions. Their interferences cost us money and supplies for Mutacorp and you worked well with that, but it's not enough."

"This isn't a good idea. Their plan—"

"Their plan is their own to carry out. The employees don't get to question the boss," he insists. His glare becomes more intense and she shuts her eyes. "You've changed, Taylor. I'm not sure I like it."

She forces a smile. "No, it's not like that. I'm still me."

He narrows his eyes and she doesn't fidget no matter how much she wants to. He finally releases her arm and she breathes a quick sigh of relief.

"If you don't do this, I'll change the deal I made with Mutacorp," he says, making her tense. "Originally, they promised to release the turtles once they finished their studies."

"That's—"

"But..." His grin becomes devious, spine-chilling. "If you don't hand those mutants over, we'll find them anyway, and then Mutacorp can kill them and dump their repulsive bodies in the trash."

Taylor's throat tightens and all she can think of is Raphael; her Raphie. She may not know his family, but she knows him, and through him, she knows that they are good. They are better than she could ever hope to be and more human than anyone that she's surrounded herself with.

"It's your choice, Taylor," Hun utters. "Hand them over, they live, you survive another day. Refuse...they die anyway and you deal with the consequences."

A shudder rolls through her. Two choices, one decision, and none of her options are great. She knows what she has to do and it won't be easy, but she must.

----------

That evening, Raphael waits in their usual rendezvous spot. Taylor should show up, that is, unless she's decided that she's sick of him and needs a break from seeing his ugly mug. He laughs at his own self-deprecating humour.

There's a loud thump near a fire escape that makes him jump. He races to the edge of the building and looks over to see Taylor in the alley, a beat-up shopping cart beside her. Her guitar and case are in the shopping cart with the terrarium he remembers briefly from her bedside table and there's a backpack on her shoulder, no doubt stuffed with her other belongings. She keeps trying to climb the fire escape but falls every time with a stifled cry.

Raphael leaps down as fast as he possibly can, landing next to her within a few seconds, and his heart drops. She looks like she's been beaten to within an inch of her life. She has a fresh black eye, bruises up her neck, arms, and legs—some shaped far too much like fingerprints—and her lip is split open. It doesn't take a lot of imagination for Raphael to figure out that she's probably got bruises and cuts underneath her clothes too.

As his entire body floods with rage, she tries to move towards him and her legs buckle. He catches her and she bites back another cry, burying her face against his chest as fresh sobs spill from her. He lowers them both to the ground and she clings to him.

"Tay, what happened?" he demands.

She grips his strong arms, gasping for breath. She winces every time she inhales, her arms spasming as if trying to move to clutch at whatever wound is causing her pain.

"I...I tried to run," she stammers. "Hun...Hun caught on and next, next thing I-I know, fists, feet, they're grabbing at my, m-my clothes—" She sobs harder. "I d-don't know how I got away, felt...felt like forever."

Raphael keeps her close, already imagining how he's going to pummel each and every Purple Dragon in that factory once he gets the chance. "You...you tried to leave?"

"Y-Yeah," she breathes. She forces herself to look up at him. "You don't just l-leave a gang, but...I...I tried."

She laughs, but it's cut off as she dissolves into a coughing fit, buckling forward. He gives her enough space to hack into the pavement, rubbing her back as she tries to catch her breath once it stops. Her back trembles with every inhale and he can hear her muttering Spanish to herself, catching words that he recognizes as swears. He'd find it cute if it weren't for the circumstances.

"Where are you going now?" he asks. "The police?"

She sits up, gripping her ribs. "I...I don't know. If I go to them, they'll see the tattoo and arrest me on the spot or..." She sniffles hard and wipes at her never-ending tears. "No lo sé. No lo sé. No lo sé..."

He shakes his head. "Good thing you've got me, huh?" he asks. Her bruised face scrunches a little as she frowns and he reaches over to brush her hair out of her eyes, evading any sore spot. "I'll take you home. Donnie and Sarina can patch you up."

Her expression grows hopeful. "Really?"

He smirks. "Of course. What kind of guy leaves his girl out in the cold?"

She looks at the ground, a shy smile on her face as she nods. "Okay, then...then let's go."

He glances at the shopping cart and then at her, puckering his lips in thought. As he takes a long look at the cart, he finally gets a good look at the terrarium and the painted turtle inside.

"You have a turtle," he states.

She smirks weakly. "Yeah, got him when I was ten. His name's Bindo," she says. "You didn't notice him last night?"

He flashes a sly grin. "I was focused on other things."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, you men and your one-track minds."

He snorts. "Okay, okay," he grumbles. He extends his hand. "Backpack. I can't carry everything so we've gotta make room in the cart."

She nods and hands it over. He readjusts everything so that the guitar and backpack are on the baby seat, leaving Bindo's home alone while creating space for Taylor. He reaches over and scoops her up, shifting her weight in his arms, and she latches her arms around his neck for a moment while he hoists her into the cart. With everything set, he shoves off for home.

"Can this fit into...wherever you live?" she asks.

"Donnie's got secret entrances all over the city big enough to get vehicles into. We're just taking the long way," he says. He gazes down at her. "Sit tight, little miss rockstar."

She leans her head onto the cart wall and shuts her eyes, lulled by the jolted rolling of the wheels and Raphael's steady breathing.