Author's note:

Okay, thought I'd take a break from my other story and go with a little idea I got last night. The PG-13 rating is only for the adult theme in the first few paragraphs, other than that it's squeaky clean. This is completely for fun, but has a lot of symbolism as well. I'd appreciate a review – let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoy it…I enjoyed writing it!

All the love, Sassyblondexoxo

(TOLD FROM RAPH'S POV)

"Unlikely Savior"

I was always asking for something I couldn't have.

Appreciation? Sometimes.

Acceptance and understanding? Usually.

Freedom? Always.

And as the years passed, not having these things was pushing me closer to the edge. Heck, I could almost feel my toes slipping over. All it was going to take was one steady shove, and I would plummet helplessly into an abyss I could never return from.

Inhaling deeply, I let my head fall back against the dumpster. The sky looked so big tonight. Thousands of stars painted the sky, an amazing sight that was usually covered by the smog of New York City. Each star twinkled lightly, and it was hard to believe that each flicker was millions of years in the making.

As much as Leonardo hated it when I came above, I felt safe in the back alley. It was small, narrow, and almost pitch black once the sun went down. Sai in one hand, bottle of cheap tequila in the other, I was perfectly happy to waste the night away by myself. Although my family meant well, sometimes seclusion was the only way to soothe my soul.

I looked at the sai in my right hand, the moonlight glinting off the metal. Drawing tiny circles in the air, I let the tip fall just millimeters above my wrist. Pausing, I considered it.

God, it'd be so easy…

I closed my eyes and wondered if I would always feel so alone.

While I faded into myself, I was completely unaware of the large shadow stepping cautiously on the other side of the dumpster. It sensed my presence, curious about the creature that belonged to the two-toed foot it saw in the darkness. But previous experience caused it to hesitate – alley inhabitants had been none too kind in the past.

Still, instinct and a last thread of hope caused it to approach me.

Whuff.

I felt the warm breath against my cheek, the strong scent of rotting garbage propelling me to wakefulness. As my eyelids flew open, I almost screamed when I saw a face positioned only inches from my own. The tequila bottle dropped from my hand and clattered onto the pavement.

Two yellow eyes glowed on the creature's face; pointed ears were pricked forward in quiet alertness. A string of drool hung loosely from its mouth.

It was a dog.

I almost laughed out loud. Master Splinter would lecture me for days if he knew how easily it snuck up on me. I couldn't tell what kind it was – the way its lips drooped made me think bulldog, but the ears didn't seem quite right. They pointed up instead of being long and floppy. Hmm…what were those called…a boxer maybe? Yeah, I think that's what it was.

Smiling, I reached my hand out to pat its head. The dog ducked out of the way, suddenly fearful.

"Aw, com'on buddy, I won't hurt ya," I soothed. Animals had a way of bringing out my sensitive side, at least what there was of it. The dog cocked his head, listening. I think he was questioning my motives.

"Seriously. I promise, I just wanna pet you."

He relented. The second time that I brought my hand to his head, he didn't pull away. His fur felt crusty, and I realized that there was dried mud covering a good portion of his front half. Poor thing. As I inspected the rest of him, I realized that he was extremely thin. Bones protruded from the entire length of his rib cage and loose skin hung across his hips.

He was also wearing a collar.

"Hey boy, do you have a tag on you somewhere?" I twisted the thick material between my fingers, looking for any sign of identification. Dirty as it was, the collar was unmistakably a deep shade of red. Nice choice.

My search was rewarded when I felt a piece of metal tacked on top of the surface. Leaning over, I spat on the area, trying to clear away the mud. The engraving was barely visible. It read:

BOB

1133 W-cker Driv-

New Y---, NY 9-32-

I could only make out some of the letters and numbers, but it was enough to get the jist. At least I knew his name.

"So it's Bob, huh? Man, you've got quite the creative owners. Looks like both of us have had to live with crappy names."

He shot me a glare, then snorted. I think I insulted him.

"So-o-o-rry! Hey, you've definitely got the better deal. At least yours is easy to say."

"Wrawr." Bob made a strange whining noise, then averted his eyes away from me. He sniffed the ground, wrinkling his nose in disgust when he came to my fallen tequila bottle. I noticed a large crack running up the side, an obvious result of being dropped onto the pavement. A small puddle was growing underneath the glass.

"You obviously don't having a taste for Mexican cuisine," I joked, watching Bob lick his nose. It looked like he was trying to clear the scent from his nostrils. "Probably better that you don't try it anyway," I continued, hauling myself to my feet. "Then it's hard to get away from."

Bob whined at me again, then stared at the dumpster.

"What's up with you? You smell bad enough already."

Realizing I didn't get it, he scratched hard at the rusted metal with his paw.

"What? Don't go getting all Lassie on me now. You're name's Bob, remember? And I'm definitely no Timmy."

Defeated, Bob dropped his head, then turned away. I heard the clip of his nails as he trotted into the shadows.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

The noise stopped.

"I was just kidding around!" I couldn't believe I was apologizing to a dog.

Bob's face reappeared, poking around the corner of the dumpster. I wanted to laugh at the drool hanging from the corner of his lips, but I kept my mouth shut. He was obviously overly sensitive.

"Is there something you want in there?" I asked him. He just stared.

"Fine, I'll look. Don't say I never did anything for ya."

Grimacing, I pulled back the plastic lid. Ok, I know I live in a sewer, but there are some smells you never get used to. New York City trash is one of them. Some of the things that New Yorkers throw away…

"All I see is trash buddy," I said, my eyes combing the contents. Cardboard boxes, an old microwave, a half-eaten bag of takeout, dirty clothes, and lots of glass bottles.

A half-eaten bag of takeout. Of course.

Poor Bob just wanted some left overs. I suddenly felt bad for poking fun at him earlier, even if he couldn't understand me. Heh, Don always told me I had a mind like a steel trap. Well, better figuring it out late then never.

"Okay Bob, I see what you want." I stretched my arm out, trying to grab the handles of the takeout bag. It was just out of reach.

I sighed. I guess I was going to get to do this the fun way.

"You owe me BIG TIME for this," I warned him. Bob cocked his head to the side, and I could swear I saw a smile on his face.

Placing my hands on the rim, I vaulted myself over the metal side. I bent my knees when I landed on the heap, trying to land as softly as I could. Instead, my feet slipped on something wet and mushy. Trying desperately to right myself, all I did was make more noise as I plunged face first into the muck. Some ninja I was.

"Argh," I growled, wiping my mouth on my arm. My night just kept getting better.

Nothing like being half drunk with a face full of trash, all for a dog a barely knew.

Back on the outside, Bob started barking. His call echoed loudly as it bounced back and forth off of the sides of the buildings. I couldn't tell if I scared him or if he was just urging me to hurry up.

"Shhhhh! I'm coming, don't get your panties in a bunch!" I snapped at him. I picked up the bag, then tried to find something solid to stand on. A couple bags of old clothes worked well enough. Just as clumsily as I entered, I jumped back over into the alley street.

"Is this what you want?" I held the bag in front of me, shaking it lightly. Bob was so excited, he started to tremble. He barked again.

Man, this dog was worse than Mikey! Just the sight of food sent him into a tailspin.

"Here you go bud," I said, dumping the contents. It looked like Chinese food – a pile of rice with various vegetables and meat mixed in. Not too bad. If it would have been hot, I might have joined him.

The whole heap was gone in a matter of seconds. Bob's big mouth practically inhaled the food, rice spraying in all directions. When he was done, he looked back to me appreciatively. A string of carrot hung from his nose.

"You saving that for later?" I laughed, brushing it away from his face. He licked it back up from the ground. You definitely couldn't call him wasteful.

Giving Bob the food seemed to make me an instant friend. Whoever said the way to a guy's heart is through his stomach was completely right. Bob jumped up on me, licking at my plastron and whining affectionately.

"Whoa Bob, I'm not that kind of turtle!" I exclaimed, laughing and pushing him off me. I patted him again once he had all four feet on the ground. "You know it's not good to jump on people," I teased. "Your owners wouldn't want you getting any bad habits, especially from a big turtle."

Hmm. Owners.

"What are you doing out her anyway, big guy?" I wondered out loud. "You've obviously got a home. Did d'ya run away or something?"

He stared at me blankly, then wagged his tail.

"You've obviously been gone for a while. How 'bout you and I try to find your house?" I asked him.

"Woof."

I studied him closely. His eyes seemed to hold much more intelligence than your average dog. The way he kept responding to my questions was kind of creepy.

I thought about the street name on the tag. I could read the house number, but the street name had a letter missing.

Wocker Drive? Probably not.

Wacker Drive? That made me laugh, but I supposed it was a possibility.

My best guess was Wicker. Wracking my brain, I thought I actually knew where there was a Wicker Drive. It would be a little bit of a walk, but I could take Bob home and still have plenty of evening left afterwards.

"Okay Bob, let's go." I gave him a quick rub and started to walk toward the manhole at the end of the alley. He followed behind me, panting excitedly. I think he was happy just to have someone paying attention to him again.

The manhole cover was heavy, and it took a good amount of effort to lift it from its cradle. Bob regarded me quizzically. He leaned out tentatively, trying to see what was down the hole. Unable to find anything in the darkness, he backed away and snorted.

Here came the only hard part. I had to somehow get Bob down into the sewer. With a fifteen foot drop to the ground below and only a small ladder, that was going to prove interesting. I thought for a moment. It would probably be best to drape him across my shoulders, and then climb down. Hopefully he trusted me enough to do that.

I whistled, and he trotted back towards me.

"All right bud, I gotta pick you up now. You cool with that?"

Bob whimpered, and then glanced back at the dark hole. He didn't seem to keen on the idea.

"Just go with me on this one, okay?" I said. Still unsure, Bob looked like he wanted to take off in the other direction. Before he could, I bent my knees and scooped him up onto my shoulders. He let out a moan, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. At least he was a lot lighter than I expected for a dog of his size.

Careful not to bump his head on the way in, I eased the two of us down into the sewer. I had to lean forward uncomfortably in order to balance him on my shoulders. It was a miracle that we made it down in one piece.

Once on solid ground again, Bob shook himself roughly and let out a yip. He didn't seem troubled at all by his new surroundings. In fact, he was bouncing and leaping around like he wanted play. He'd rush down the sewer ahead of me, then spin quickly and run back, barking the whole time.

"Bob! You gotta be quiet boy! People are going to freak out if they hear barking coming from the drains!"

He stopped briefly, then disregarded my plea. He continued his antics for almost the entire half hour walk. I gave him a dirty look every time he ran back to me, but it didn't seem to bother him. Now I knew what Leo felt like when he yelled at me.

When we reached what I thought was our destination, I began searching for the closest way up to the street. Luckily, there was a manhole a short distance down one of the side tunnels.

"I think this is it, Bob. You wait here while I take a peek," I told him. Bob finally behaved, taking a seat as I climbed up to check the street.

Bingo. A nearby street sign revealed that I'd been dead on.

Pleased with myself, I surveyed the area around the manhole. The street was quiet, with no one immediately visible on the surrounding sidewalks. The houses were all connected. Brownstones, I think they called them. There were also plenty of trees in the front yards and parked cars to hide behind in case I got into trouble.

I tried to remember the number on Bob's tag. #1133. I looked to the nearest house, and saw that it was #1111. We were really close. Bob's family probably lived near the end of this row. Satisfied I'd be safe, I ducked back into the tunnel.

"Good news boy, you're going home," I told him.

No woof this time, only panting. With his mouth gaping open, he had the silliest grin I'd ever seen. His tongue draped out to the side, funny drool shoestrings hanging down in the corners. I felt a pinch in my heart when I realized I was actually going to miss him.

As long as my brothers didn't find out…they'd think I'd gone soft.

"Time to go up Bob," I said, once again dropping to pick him up. This time he was fast enough; he quickly jumped sideways and backed away. No way did he want to do that another time!

"Buddy, I ain't got time to mess around," I yelled, diving to tackle him.

Thud.

I missed, tripping and ending up with a face full of dirt. It tasted almost as bad as the garbage.

"That's the second time that's happened tonight. I'm reaching the end of my rope with you!" I scolded.

"Woof." He kept grinning, not seeming in the least bit sorry.

"Come HERE!"

My second attempt to grab Bob was as fruitless as the first. My hands closed on empty air as he scooted out from under me.

"Okay, now you're just making me look bad," I said, brushing myself off. "Fine, we'll do it your way. I'm going to sit right here until you decide we can go."

And so we sat, for the next half hour, silent and staring at each other.

Geez, he was as stubborn as I was.

Still, I prevailed. I think he finally got bored, or else actually felt sorry for me. Whatever the reason, he approached me, head down in apology. He reached out and licked my hand.

"Eck. You finally ready then?"

He stood still.

"Fine." I picked him up, slinging him across my shoulders. It was harder going up than down, mostly because I had to open the manhole cover when I reached the top. Should have thought of that before I started up with a dog on my back.

It had gotten chilly as the night wore on. I shivered as we emerged back on to the street. Grabbing Bob's collar, I pulled him out of sight behind a string of bushes. Comfortable that we wouldn't be seen, we both jogged hastily up the street.

I searched the house numbers for #1133. It ended up being the second to last in the row, by far the nicest in the group. The lawn was neatly manicured, a welcome mat placed squarely in front of the door. When Bob realized where we were, he jerked his collar free from my grip and raced up the steps. His howling was so loud it could have wakened the dead.

It wouldn't be long before his family opened the front door. Just to make sure, I dodged behind a car parked on the street nearby. The sight I was rewarded with made all of the evening's efforts worthwhile.

"Mom, it's Bob!" a little brown haired girl squealed, practically jumping on top of him. Her mother came out behind her, a look of shock on her face. She was speechless.

Bob drowned the little girl with kisses. She giggled with delight as his tongue licked up the sides of her cheeks. She couldn't have been more than five. Her mother knelt down beside her, rubbing her hand down Bob's back.

"Why'd you run off kiddo?" she asked, still staring at him in disbelief. "We thought you were gone for good."

Bob whined, tail wagging. It seemed like he was asking for forgiveness for being so impulsive. Somehow, I knew he'd never run away again. He'd learned his lesson – the hard way. Sometimes it took being away from someone for a while before you saw how much you needed them.

And they needed you.

"Come on sweetheart, let's go show your dad. I think he missed him more than any of us." She placed her hand on her daughter's back, guiding her into the house. Bob quickly followed after.

"Phew! Bob, you need a bath!"

I smiled, watching the door close. Once again the night was silent, and my friend was gone. But strangely, I felt less alone than I had in a long time. In the short amount of time I knew him, the lost dog had shown me something I had trouble seeing on my own.

I realized that I had a family waiting for me too.

Finis