A/N: So, I'm not dead (though I rather feel as though I should be) and have finally found time to finish this first chapter. This story is an AU of the 07 movie which has been a rabid plot bunny in my brain for at least a year now. It was really inspired by a one page comic on deviantart by tmask01 (h t t p : // tmask01 . Deviantart . com/ art / TMNT – Night – and – ghost -98304087) So please read, relax, and enjoy!

The Ghost and the Night

The first thing he noticed was that he was alone. Not the pain, nor the darkness, but the fact that he was the only sentient being in the area. And for a moment that bothered him. Then the thought was pushed away by other, more pressing matters. Like water. He was so very thirsty; it felt as though he had not had a drink in days.

He lifted his head off of the surface on which he lay, but was hindered by a wave of dizziness. As the feeling passed he realized that he was in some sort of underground dwelling (a cave). There was a faint light filtering from above, so there was probably a way to the surface (a crevice). By the light he could make out the remains of a fire, long since chocked upon its own waste, quite close to his face and a tangled heap of fabric beside him (blanket). He could hear the trickle of water coming from somewhere in the shadowy recesses. His thirst was suddenly overwhelming and he desperately dragged himself forward. He did not even try to gain his feet but crawled across the uneven floor, scraping his arms and knees as he went. So set upon his task was he that he did not realize he had obtained his objective until he literally ran into the rough wooden gourd positioned under the trickling water. He flailed desperately to right the container, unsure if he could wait for it to fill once more. His jerky motions sent him hard into the floor, but he did not spill the precious liquid. Once he was sure of his grip he leaned his back (shell) against the still slightly damp wall and raised the water to his mouth.

A small voice in his head warned him to take it slowly- but even the lukewarm water tasted so very delicious. He greedily gulped half of the sizable container before realizing the depth of his mistake. Calling upon protesting and weakened muscles he barely managed to avoid contaminating his water supply as he brought back up all the liquid he had just quaffed. Shaking slightly and properly chastised, he scooted back and took a few more slow parting sips.

He was already exhausted, but his stomach was telling him that he had not eaten in a long while either. He cast about him for anything edible and found another wooden container, this one with a lid, and a small bag instead. Pulling them into his lap, he eagerly dug in. The container held small shriveled things (dried fruit) and the bag a collection of short fibrous tubes (roots). The same small voice that he had ignored before told him that they were edible so he grabbed a selection before making his way back to the bundle of fabric where he had woken up. The food was bitter, but he felt better for the nourishment. As he chewed slowly he contemplated building a fire (sticks, flint, tinder). There were some dried vines hanging from the ceiling that might burn. But he was much too tired.

As he pulled the grey material around his body and stared at the slowly blurring light filtering from above it occurred to him , abstractly, that he had no recollection (memory) of a time before now. On some level he realized that he should be bothered by that, but then he was asleep and beyond caring.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

He awoke suddenly from a dream to an uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. Without thought he wandered over to the appropriate section of the cave. It was only after he had returned, blinking at the bright light now filling the space, that he realized that he had known where to go.

He was sure that this was a good sign. He had noticed, absently , that the cave did not show signs of heavy habitation. If it was just him out here (it was) then he would have to look to himself for answers.

His sleep had left him feeling much better. After finishing the remains of his last meal and drinking some more water he felt well enough to explore the cave in its entirety. It was fairly deep, though only one chamber. The trickle that served as his water supply welled out of a crack in the stone wall and disappeared onto a weather worn whole after flowing out of the depression that his water jug sat in. He assumed that there must be another chamber (aquifer) under this one.

Near his sleeping area but on the opposite side of the water, there was another bundle. This one held a bundle of brown strips (leather) sewn together (pads), a pair of sharp metal sticks (swords) , and a strip of blue material. He ran his hand over the soft blue scrap (silk) and fingered the two holes (mask) before returning it carefully to the pile.

There were a few other bits of life tucked neatly into the shadows; coils of rough rope, several spears, and the leavings of a much larger wood pile. There wasn't much in the way of food, and after taking in the depleted wood pile, he knew he would require more kindling as well. He knew what to look for, he could even picture the plants that he knew he could eat, but he looked at the light filtering in far above him, between the vines, and his limbs threatened to collapse. If there were someone else, he felt, if there were someone else he would have made himself go. Forced himself to be sure that they would be taken care of- but it was just him, alone in this place as maybe it had always been, and he could wait.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Later that evening, as he burrowed into his blanket and huddled close to the small fire he had managed to light, he thought that perhaps he should have gone out anyway. The chill, however, did little more than discomfort him and he was soon able to block out even the small shiver that plagued him. Still, too many nights like that one would weaken him, perhaps even make him ill.

And maybe that was what had gotten him into this mess to begin with. He certainly felt weak enough for it to have been true. Regardless, he would have to collect supplies soon.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Two days after he had first woke up he felt strong enough to pull himself to the surface. Before he positioned himself under the opening he paused beside his bedding. There had been something bothering him about that. He dragged it into the center of the room and gave it a strong flick, causing dirt collected from the floor to be shaken loose. He found and adjusted his hold on the material. Ah, yes, there it was. He slipped the blanket (cloak) around his shoulders. Feeling more prepared he took a step forward, but stopped again. His mind drifted back to the pile of leather and silk. He just couldn't leave them for some reason. After a moment of thought, he slid the pads onto his limbs, over his joints and wound the strip of silk around his bicep so the ends trailed down his elbow. Feeling much more armored against whatever it was he might meet, he propelled himself as far up the vines as he could in his initial jump, grabbing on with a grunt and hauling his body out into the dappled sunlight. He paused to catch his breath and take in his surroundings. He stood in a crowded clearing made by the hole that led to his cave and the large trees that hung over it. The sun was slanting through and it seemed as though there was green everywhere. Life was everywhere. A part of him thrilled at the sight, but another part felt… wrong. Then he caught sight of a plant that he knew he could eat and set off to find more. His gathering expedition lead him far from where he had awoken, but, somehow, he was sure that he could find his way back. He was quite a ways (miles) when he finally found other sentients. As soon as he heard the sounds (voices) he found himself ensconced in a tree even before he had the opportunity to consider what action to take. From his leafy blind he observed a female and her offspring (mother and child). They appeared to be doing the same as him, foraging for supplies. Part of him wanted to go down to them, talk to them, question them—maybe they would be able to tell him where he was, who he was. But a larger, much louder part was screaming at him not to allow himself to be seen. Stick to the shadows. So he remained aloft.

The sentients (humans) seemed slightly nervous and frequently looked over their shoulders as they sifted through the brush. He would have thought that they sensed his presence, but they never once looked in his direction, not even as he moved through the trees above them, unwilling to let them out of his sight even as he was unwilling to approach.

Even hanging back he was aware of the men before they were. He didn't like them, but he didn't know the situation so he did not interfere with their approach. It was made obvious by the reaction of the mother and child that they didn't like the looks of the men either. When they spoke it took him a moment to understand their words. Part of him wondered if that was also a result of his illness, but the larger part shut the reflections away when it became clear that the men wanted the small family's food and, as he read tone and body language, perhaps a bit more. He found the very thought repugnant and he was in motion before he realized he had left his tree.

Even in his cold fury he remembered the one tenet he seemed to live by—don't be seen. He took out his first opponent at the knees, knowing from the sick crack of skull meeting rock that he wouldn't be getting up again. The other stumbled backwards, brandishing a shotgun at a place from which he was long gone. He was observing from aloft once more, unsure as to how best to take down the spooked man without inflicting any casualties. The man seemed to be jabbering on fear. Something about…ghosts. Did they think that he was a ghost? A slow smile crept unbidden across his face—he could work with that.

He made his way through the leafy boughs until he was directly behind the man and purposely shook the branch above his own head. As expected the man whorled and fired a shot that flew harmlessly over him. He let out a wavering groan none the less. He peered through the foliage and smirked as the man smiled and swaggered over to where he lay in wait. A last instinct caused him to pull up the fold of his cloak (hood), making sure that the only glimpse his opponent would be able to get was the smoky grey of his garment.

The bush in front of him was swept away by a meaty hand and squinting eyes peered at the space under the tree. The man only had time to gasp before being propelled backward and to land unconscious before mother and child.

He shadowed them until they came to the edge of the jungle. It seemed as though there was an entire settlement of the creatures. They lived together above ground in dwellings (houses) made of wood (not stone). The child and its mother were met by others all from one building (family). The exchange of concern and physical contact they displayed left an empty hole in his abdomen that all his organs wished to sink into. No, that was not right; the hole had been there all the while, ever since he first recalled opening his eyes, but seeing the group together drew his attention unlike anything else had. It was not right that these people, that these families, live in fear. He was here, seemingly alone, seemingly without purpose—he would protect these people.

A/N: This story is rather different than anything I've tried before (except that I seem to love messing with Leo's head) so I'd love to hear what you think. I can't say when the next chapter will be ready, but I'll try to keep updates at reasonable intervals- Yours, Delia Ra'Nar