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Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
She pushed loose strands of hair out of her face again and bent over the monitor. "Damn it," she
muttered. "Never mind...another fluke."
Akira poked his head in. "You sure?"
"Yeah...he was lying. He's not a viewer." She gestured for him to come in and pointed to a spot
on the screen. "See? No activity in these frontal lobes here. He faked it."
Akira sighed and shrugged. "Back to the drawing board, then..."
Nodding, Sandra shut off the screen and sat down, pulling her glasses off and running a tired
hand across her brow. "Yeah..."
He paused on his way out. "Going home?"
"No...I have work to do. I'll sleep here."
He chuckled. "You might as well start bringing extra clothes, Sandy."
Smiling, she pointed to a gray duffel bag across the room. Akira groaned.
"See you tomorrow, Jack..."
"You too. Have a good night, Sandra."
The hours stretched and still they sat there with the tea mugs, his hands slowly starting to lose
the tremble. April wasn't sure how to comfort him--what were you supposed to say to someone who
experienced things more real than anything the five senses could throw at them? What were you
supposed to say while you watched them stagger at the edge of the ravine?
"Mike..." she whispered. "I wish..."
"I know," he said quietly. "So do I."
He knows us inside and out, she mused, looking down. He knows what we're going to think
before we think it. "Do you ever regret it?"
He looked at her. "Always."
"Raphael's depressed again, Master."
Splinter flicked an ear and looked up at him. Leo could almost hear it--What else is new?
"Explain."
He sat, folding his legs under him; the motion so automatic he could do it in his sleep. "I'm not
sure. He rarely leaves the bedroom, and when I check on him, he's usually just sitting on his bed
with music playing."
Splinter cocked his head. "And why do you think he is depressed?"
Leo's shoulders lifted and fell helplessly. "I don't know--I can just...feel it. Sometimes I can
tell what he's thinking."
"And what is he thinking?"
Leo closed his eyes.
"I see." Splinter suddenly seemed closer; he opened his eyes to see the rat leaning forward. "Is
he his brother's keeper?" Splinter whispered, almost a quote.
He shifted his gaze to the floor, to the intricate rug patterns. "He loves Mike to death. We all
do. None of us could stand to see...to see Mikey hurt. In any way."
"But what is holding Raphael in his personal darkness? That is the question you want answered."
"I'm afraid to know the answer," Leo whispered.
"Then, Leonardo, I suggest," and Splinter leaned back, folding his hands, "that you find
Michaelangelo."
"What do you regret most?"
"I dunno...it's hard to start. I mean, I never asked for it. Yeah...maybe deep down I wanted it,
but..."
"You just never expected it to be like this," April finished softly.
Mike closed his eyes. "I don't know."
She woke up when footsteps clattered on metal. Night security? Moonlight shivered through
the window and she curled up on the couch, drawing the coverlet tighter around her shoulders.
Winds of change...
Sandra closed her eyes again, but didn't dream.
He shook out his hands, fingers flexing. The monitor offered the only light in the tiny room, but
it was all he needed. The mug of coffee beside the keyboard glowed white with a faint blue-green
from the monitor, and he reached for it took a sip. Still hot.
The soft click-hum of the modem, and the answering static made him a jump a little--was the lair
really so silent? Connection done, he went to Search, took a long swallow, and set his fingers to
the keyboard again.
"Nobody ever expects the things life throws at them," she said quietly. "Some things you just
have to deal with, face the consequences."
"I thought I could," he whispered. "Now I'm not so sure. I feel like somethin's…I don't know,
dying."
"Inside you?"
He closed his eyes. "That's already happened."
He held the charcoal drawing to the light and reached for the box of colored pencils, grabbing
the deepest red he could find. The dragon screamed red.
Don had been right; he did feel better. All those hours of trying and failing and trying again;
each crumple of paper, each stroke of pencil and charcoal…something inside him had focused to a
point, blocked out everything else. He doubted he could do it again…but it felt good.
As he was tinting the claws a grayish brown, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
"What?"
he snapped.
"It's me," Don said, and opened it. "Have you seen Mike anywhere?"
"Prob'ly went for a walk."
"What's that you're drawing?"
"A volcano in a soup kettle, what's it look like?"
Don folded his arms. "It looks like a dragon."
Raph grinned. "No wonder they call ya the smart one."
Don gave him a look. "Seriously. I found something he might be interested in. Where's Leo?"
Raphael shrugged again.
"Thanks for the help."
"Don't mention it."
Donatello left, closing the door behind him, and Raph bent back over the drawing, jaw set. And
then, rather abruptly, the image of his little brother wedged itself firmly into his mind.
She bolted upright. There were footsteps--just outside the door. She threw back the blanket and
got up, the air chilling her bare arms. She'd need some sort of weapon…the chair? A metal crowbar
lay across the desk. She grabbed it and stood facing the door, insides trembling.
Nothing happened.
Her muscles relaxed. But when she went back to the couch, she didn't fall asleep again.
April had gone to make more tea. He sat there in the slow, silent pre-dawn dimness, the lamplight
nearby a shallow comfort. Sighing, he put his head in his hands, closing his eyes again.
Everything felt detached, distant…he could suddenly see a long hallway with doors…
Not sure what else to do, he walked down, bathed in blue. Metal echoed curiously under and around
him. He paused at one door, sensing another mind just beyond it. Alert. Frightened. A woman.
She must think I'm breaking in…
Then it hit him. Wait-I'm just projecting here…she shouldn't be able to…
He drifted through the door halfway and saw what looked like a control booth, a lab room
connected to a testing ground behind a glass wall. He remembered those.
There was a computer desk, and a couch. The woman sitting there seemed familiar, but he couldn't
place her. Long brown hair tumbling down her back, piercing blue eyes…
She was just sitting there, shaking a little. She needs sleep. I guess I scared her.
He reached out and lightly brushed her mind, spreading a gentle darkness over her thoughts. With
a soft yawn, she lay down, pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and closed her eyes.
Mike pulled away and opened his eyes just as April came back in. His head was throbbing lightly,
and just as she sat back down, something else burst its way into his consciousness and he fell…
Raph jerked; the pencil dropped. There was no danger…no, it was…something else. Mike was…
What? He's what?
"Raph?" Don called from somewhere. He ignored it.
What's wrong, Mike? What is it?
Someone screamed. He thought he could see blood and smell singed flesh.
"Raphael!" This time Donatello flung the door open, and out of the corner of his eye Raph watched
him stumble.
Leo…?
He felt him, somewhere near. Running, stumbling. God…
What's happening? came Don's weak thought.
Leo's urgency, the need to get back…and Mike's soundless cries…
Something bad, he thought, gasping. Something very bad…
He bolted upright, fumbling for the lamp. But when he turned it on, all he saw was the shadow of
a ghost.
"Not again," he whispered. "Not another one."
"I'm not a ghost," the figure said, almost pleadingly. "I don't know why I'm here. But you can
help me. I know you can help me."
Akira blinked. The person didn't look--
"Wait--you're not human…are you?"
The apparition stepped forward. "Please…don't be scared. I didn't mean to come here…but I got
pulled…and I'm here now…"
Akira blinked and shook his head. "You're a turtle."
"Yes."
"A humanoid…turtle."
"Please, Dr. Akira…I don't have a lot of time…"
"How do you know my name?" he whispered.
Large brown eyes met his. "The same way you do."
Swallowing he groped for a name and got it. "How did you get that name? That's a Renaissance
artist."
"It's a long story." The turtle's form was flickering. "I can't…"
"What?" He threw back the covers. "What is it?"
"Just help me," the creature who called itself Michaelangelo whispered. "I'm losing control."
Jack closed his eyes. He remembered what that was like.
"I'll help you," he said. "Where are you physically?"
"No," the turtle said. "I want to come to you."
"All right," he whispered. "I'll give you the name of the lab I work at."
"Thank you," the turtle said, when Akira was done. And he was gone.
The back of his head throbbed, and a cool hand was gently tracing along the lines of his face. He
opened his eyes. April frowned in relief.
"Are you back?" she asked softly. "For a minute there I thought--"
"No, I'm okay now," Mike said, sitting up with her help. "Something, ah, pulled me."
"What happened?"
He closed his eyes, eased himself back onto the couch. "I got a premonition and thought I could
block it…but something went wrong. I couldn't. I started scanning for someone who could help me,
I was looking for a place to hide…I ended up projecting. I found someone."
"Who, Mike?"
"He's a doctor…works in a lab with remote viewing. He can help me. He said he would."
"Mike…" April took him by the shoulders. "Who is this person? Where is he?"
Mike glanced away for a minute. "Jack Akira. And…there's another one. I saw her before."
"Who?"
"Sandra Blake," Mike whispered. "And I have to find them, or I'm gonna lose it…"
Raph was brewing coffee when the front door creaked open. He turned, frowing, and--
"Mike! Where were you? We were worried."
"Sorry…I was at April's. I needed some time to think." Mike collapsed in a chair by the table.
"I think you did more than that," Raphael said gravely, handing him a mug.
"What do you mean?"
Sitting down, Raph looked at him. "Did anything happen?"
Mike frowned. "No, course not."
"Then what's wrong?"
Mike closed his eyes. "Nothing…everything. I'm sorry to do this to you guys."
Raph was shaking his head. "We'll deal with it, bro. Just tell us what's bothering you."
Sighing, Mike bit his lip. "I'm losing it, Raph. I'm trying to go back to Splinter's teachings,
but it's not enough…I need people who understand. Like Sandra Blake and Jack Akira."
Raph nearly choked on his coffee. "You said Sandra Blake, right?"
"Yeah…?"
"We've been looking for her too."
"Didn't you guys get any sleep at all?" Don asked.
"I just got up at six to make coffee. Mike was the one up all night."
"I was at April's."
Don shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, I ran into Dr. Blake at the library a while back. I've been
reading her books. I think she could help you, Mike."
Mike breathed out in relief. "Great."
"Question is, where do we find her?" Leo asked.
Mike closed his eyes. "I think I can find the lab."
"You do that." Don turned back to the keyboard.
"What are you looking for?" asked Leo.
"Maybe they're listed…"
"They should be," Mike said softly. "Quicksilver Labs."
"That's the name?" Raph frowned. "You sure?"
Mike gave him a look.
"Okay, sorry."
"I'm printing the map out now," Don said. "Let's hope this is the right thing."
"It is," Michaelangelo whispered.
"You're not going to believe this, Sandy…"
"You already told me about the mutant turtle bilocating--"
"Not that. This." Jack slapped his latest viewing sketch on the table in front of her.
Sandra looked up, frowning. "A manhole cover."
"More than that. I think it's connected to them."
"Them?"
"I got the feeling there were more than one. Four of them. When I focused, I got the impression
that one of them knows you."
"Me?" Sandra blinked. "I've never met them before."
Jack shook his head. "I kept getting impressions of a library…he was in a trench coat, you were
there. You knocked some books out of your arms…"
Sandra closed her eyes. The trench coat…his hands did look big…
"Sandy?"
"I'm fine, Jack. I think you're right. I have seen them before."
"They need our help."
"I know."
Jack sat down heavily, brushing dark hair out of his eyes. "Something's going to happen, Sandy. I
can feel it."
She gave a half-smile. "Let's hope it's good. C'mon, let's get back to work."
"I just hope we're not chasing illusions," Leonardo murmured.
"Neither do I," Mike said quietly. "But something's gonna happen, and at this point I don't think
we have much of a choice."
"We never did, Mike."
"No. We didn't."