A/N: Hello friends! I have FINALLY returned to my home on ff. I'm so excited to start this up again and I am going to start working on three more stories hopefully in the near future! Enjoy the new and improved….. Guardian Angel.

Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT

January 17, 2011

Today was hell…again. I just can't do this anymore. This stupid divorce has taken over a year and it's still not over! We are going to lose the apartment and then me and mom will end up on the streets cuz of the stupid attorney fees on top of bills. It's a good thing Connor already moved out other wise we'd be homeless already. James is being an a-hole. He is lying to the courts about everything and trying to squeeze everything out of us. He also wants me half of the time. Well, that's not happenin'. I hate him enough that I have come close to picking up a knife and shoving it through his black heart. I quit work today, I can't handle it anymore. Lisa is a jerk. And as if being under so much stress at home and getting yelled at at work wasn't enough, that brat I used to call my best friend is spreading rumors about me at school. So now I am jobless, friendless, and on the edge of becoming homeless. FML.

Leo read over the crumpled page again with a soft growl in his chest. The words stirred several emotions under his plastron, but mainly frustration. Yeah, it sounded like this girl had it rough, but he wanted to smack her upside the head and tell her to live in a sewer for ten years, then she could complain. He sighed and folded it up again, his anger melting away, and placed the note in his belt.

He had found the page torn out, but resting inside the cover of a battered journal that had made its way into the sewers. He had stumbled, literally stumbled, upon it during his early morning jog yesterday. Curiosity had taken over and he had looked inside. Realizing it was a journal, he had quickly closed the cover, his strict sense of honor panicking him to not invade someone else's privacy. He thought about dropping it where he had found it, but noticed that a single page, the page he now had at his hip, had fallen out and was soaking up filthy sewer water. He hastily rescued it, and couldn't help but reading the obviously distressed writing. He hadn't read anything else in the journal since then, though his curiosity had been tested. He had made the excuse of needing to get some fresh air tonight so he could look for an address or a name without rising suspicion from his brothers. The book nestled snuggly between his sheaths and his shell so they wouldn't see it. All of his brothers, especially Mikey, had the annoying habit of admiring and obsessing over any new object Leo carried around since his return from Central America. Even the crumpled leaves and sticks that had accidentally made their way into Leo's bag had mysteriously disappeared from his trashcan like they were prizes. It had taken some convincing for them to let him go out alone. Raph had been most reluctant, but finally gave in when Leo promised not to go far.

And he hadn't. He found a quiet, shadowed rooftop a few blocks from the nearest manhole to their home to sit and think. The night was still young, with the last light of the sun fading slowly away. He had been sitting here for nearly an hour, battling with himself whether he should open the cover and try to find the owner of the worn leather book, or just leave it in a dumpster somewhere. He had found it in the sewer after all. Perhaps the owner had thrown it away. Leo rubbed a large green thumb over the soft cover again, as he had done countless times in the last few minutes. His thoughts were turning towards opening it and seeing what was inside before deciding whether it was worth returning or not. He knew it was silly to fret over opening a journal, but his father had taught him to respect privacy, and all four of the ninja master's sons knew how personal a journal could be. Mikey had stumbled upon April's some time ago and showed his brothers out of fun. The four had been awkward around April for the next two weeks until she finally made them spill. April and the four teenagers had been bright red from embarrassment. April had promptly hidden it better than beneath her socks, but there was no need. Mikey and none of the others had gone into her bedroom again. He chuckled at the now amusing memory. He shook his head and closed his eyes before opening the book delicately, holding it away from himself as if it would bite him. Assured that it wasn't booby-trapped, he pulled it close and looked at the first page cautiously, tensed to slam it closed if any certain words popped up at him.

This is the property of:

Brenna Jean Hall

Not recognizing the name, he cautiously flipped to the next page, and he knew his eyes widened in surprise. The page was covered in writing, but it was smeared and unreadable. Over the smudges was a rough sketch of what looked like a crying fairy. Each tiny detail was perfect; he could make out tiny fibers on the seemingly transparent wings emerging from her back. The face took his breath away. Entranced with the haunting look of the fairy, he couldn't bring himself to turn the page. He noticed a line of writing in the corner that he could just make out.

And so a delicate life,

Torn by strife.

The rest of the poem was blurred and scribbled out, but he didn't need to read the rest of it. He turned back to the cover page and sighed in relief. In the lower left hand corner sat tiny letters depicting an address. He read over it twice to make sure before standing up and setting off in the direction the address sent him.