The Wolf Call (TMNT)

Chapter 4

Joy's POV

I rolled over in my sleep, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in my side and arms.

'Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.' I thought. Where was I? A... bed? When was the last time I slept in a bed? I stood slowly.

The memories came flooding back to me so fast, I doubled over.

I stumbled into the main room. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen. I noticed that my tail had pulled out of my jeans pocket. I braided a lock of my hair subconsciously, thinking. So turtles can cook. What next?

I recalled last nights events. What could the purple dragons possibly want with someone who didn't have anything?

I stepped into the kitchen to find Mikey cooking up breakfast.

"Hi," I greeted as I took a seat at the table.

"Sup?" he smiled.

"Anyone else up yet?" He shook his head no, and I sighed with relief. "Good." He set a plate in front of me. My stomach growled hungrily, and he smirked. I blushed and dug in.

By the time I cleared my plate, the other boys had stumbled in, still heavy with sleep.

I dumped the plate into the sink and flopped onto the sofa next to Leo, who was flipping on a tv show.

Raph headed straight for the dojo, muttering something about passing out. I ignored him and focused on the tv.

I heard noises from the lab and knew Donnie was in there, doing whatever it was he usually did in there.

I started braiding my hair again, deep in thought. Leo noticed and glanced over quizzically.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Braid your hair."

"I didn't notice I was doing it. My fingers just start wandering when I'm thinking." I explained. He nodded, understanding.

I stood abruptly.

"I should be going now, while Donnie's occupied." I gestured to the lab. Leo looked doubtful.

"Just don't do anything stupid, okay?" I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll be fine!" I protested, and walked out without another word.
. . .

I curled up at the bottom of my dumpster. It felt good, being alone.

I started settling back into the routine of things. Wake up, run, eat, run, attack a thug, eat, run, sleep, etc. the next few days passed by in a blur.

Until one morning, when it slammed on the brakes and I went flying.

It started out with me waking up, and then going for a run around town. Except this run was apparently written down to be one of the longer ones.

I was alone, running down the street with my tail in my pocket, my ears under my beanie.

I turned a corner and bumped into this huge.... man..... dog.... mutant.... thing. He shoved me into the brick wall behind me, and I heard a sickening crack. Probably my ribs, maybe a wrist.

My vision was tinted red, and my skull felt like it was splitting apart. A shriek built up in my throat, but I forced it down. There was no way I would give this guy the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

I stumbled forward, making a weak fighting stance. His arm jerked, and a pain exploded in my jaw. I collapsed, his cruel laughter echoing in my ears.

He slung me over his shoulder roughly, but not before slapping a bit of duct tape over my mouth, and tying my hands behind my back and my feet together.

D:< Jerk.

He tossed me like a sack of potatoes into the back of a truck. I spotted a ninja-looking guy getting settled in a motorcycle behind it. Security, I guessed.

The dog-man shut the doors, and I heard a lock click into place. Fun, I love locks.

I felt the truck start to move beneath me, and that was when I started to get angry. Who did these idiots think they were? Getting kidnapped was not supposed to be part of my routine today!

A lightbulb clicked over my head. I struggled to stand up, but managed to because of my legs were stronger from running through 60% of my day.

I hopped over to one side of the metal box I was in, and slammed my full body weight, plus a little extra push, into the opposite side of the truck.

It veered to one side, but it still wasn't enough. I tried again on the other side, and it tilted. I braced myself, and it landed on its side. I smacked against the wall and winced, hearing a crack in my shoulder.

I heard metal break off, and shoved the door open with my already sore elbow. Ninjas with footprints on their chests were everywhere, dazed or unconscious.

I knelt on the pavement, rolling up one pant leg. I had a leather strap tied around my calf, securing a small pocket knife. I slipped it out, sawing through the ropes that held my wrists easily. When I was free, I got to work on my legs, and tucked the knife back under the strap.

And then I ran, harder than I had ever run before, my feet slapping the concrete.

I ran closer and closer to home, when at some point, my feet missed the ground and I fell through a manhole and landed in the sewers with a splash.

It was then that I started to cry. I had been holding back tears for years, only to let them pour down my bruised cheeks unchecked.

It hurt, hurt so much I could barely stand it. I couldn't get up, I just laid there, sobbing.

I was like that for hours, but it seemed like centuries.

Eventually, I realized that I couldn't stay here forever, as much as I wanted to.

I climbed up to the surface and placed the cover over the gaping hole.

I followed the smell of home, my feet moving automatically. I arrived at my dumpster and collapsed into it, immediately passing out with exhaustion.

As I drifted away slowly, I came to the decision that no one would know about today.

No one.