This little story was inspired by a little "what if?" and some incredibly adorable fanart by Brushbell on tumblr: What if Splinter had met April the same night he and the boys mutated? (This doesn't take place on the exact same night, but it's close enough.) :) I don't usually write AU, but the artwork was so adorable that it stuck with me...and then this happened. :D The story is labeled as complete right now...I don't have anything definite planned out, but there is a slight possibility more chapters could be added later.

Adventures in Turtle Sitting: Help Wanted

April lifted her head from where it rested on her folded arms, blinking in the bright light of the kitchen. She let out a little moan and rubbed her face, glancing at the microwave clock with bleary eyes. 12:07 AM. She'd fallen asleep studying. Again.

She pushed her chair back from the kitchen table and glared drowsily at the textbook she'd been sleeping on. She should have listened to her academic adviser and waited until her senior year to take advanced calculus instead of taking it at the same time she was enrolled in physics II, but she'd insisted on taking them together so she'd be eligible for the advanced placement classes next year. Nothing like earning a little college credit ahead of time.

But now, looking down at the unintelligible jumble of letters and numbers on the page, April was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. It wasn't that she couldn't understand the material...but it was so much work.

The small sound shouldn't have even registered on her hearing, but the faint, plaintive mewling from outside caught her attention. Her elderly neighbor's cat had gone missing just yesterday, and April had promised Mrs. Carter that she'd keep an eye out for her. She rose and stretched, then stepped over to the open window. She lifted the screen with a rattle and poked her head out, peering down into the alley below.

"Kitty, kitty, kitty!" she called softly. "Heloise? Are you down there?" She didn't hear an answering meow but thought she saw a slight flutter of movement. April sighed. Well, at least she was still dressed. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes and descended the stairs to the ground floor, pushing open the heavy fire door to step into the alley. She flipped on the light over the door. The ancient bulb provided a watery yellow glow that did little to illuminate the narrow, dead-ended alley. "Kitty? Heloise?" she called again, walking farther back. She dragged her feet a little to keep from tripping over the garbage that had spilled from the dumpster. "Man, I should have brought a flashlight," she muttered. She was about to pass the end of the dumpster when she heard another sound – and it wasn't a cat.

"Stop. Do not come any closer."

The voice was barely audible, but it was deep and menacing, almost a growl. April instantly froze, heartbeat double-timing as she stared wide-eyed into the shadows. Her mouth went dry, but she managed to force the words out. "Who's there?"

There was a brief pause before the disembodied voice came again. "No one of consequence. Leave. Now."

The implied threat of "or else" in the words caused her to retreat a step or two, but then she heard it. It was the barest ghost of a sound, but it was unmistakable: the soft whimper of a very young child, and she realized that this was the noise she had heard through her open window. April was suddenly deathly afraid, but a surge of protective anger gave her courage. She moved forward a half step, clenching her fists, glaring in the direction of the unseen speaker.

"I know there's a kid with you," she said, "and if you don't tell me what's going on right now I'm going to scream, and everyone in this building is going to wake up and then you can tell your story to the police."

"No! Wait. Please. Let me explain."

The instantaneous aversion to the police should have been a red flag. Scratch that – it should have been a huge flashing strobe light with a klaxon blaring – but something in the man's voice told April she should wait. Despite the overt hostility in his tone, she could hear an undercurrent of pain and fear. And she found herself wondering if he needed to be helped instead of arrested.

"Okay," she said cautiously, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "You've got one chance to convince me."

There was a long silence before the stranger spoke again. "I do have a child with me," he said slowly. "He is my son."

It was an easy enough lie to tell, but despite the bizarre circumstances and the fact that April couldn't see the speaker, his voice still rang sincere. Still, she couldn't just let this go. "Is he all right?"

"He has a minor injury," came the reply.

A worried frown touched her mouth. "Listen, if he's hurt, he needs to see a doctor. Why are you hiding in an alley?" A sudden thought struck her and she asked more hesitantly, "Do you...do you need me to find directions to a Salvation Army shelter or something?"

There was another silence that caused a cold shiver to run down April's back. Even though the stranger said nothing, she felt an almost palpable wave of distress emanating from his shadowy corner. "I...cannot," he forced out.

"I can't accept that," she replied, lifting her chin stubbornly. "I won't just go back inside knowing there's a hurt kid out here. You need to tell me what's going on so I can help you."

"If you promise me that you will remain silent, I will come into the light," the stranger said reluctantly. "You will understand."

"Okay," April said, bracing herself. There was a soft shuffle of movement. The child whimpered again, but April could hear the stranger whispering quietly and the boy quickly fell silent. The first thing she saw was the fitful glow from the porch light reflected in a pair of eyes. Her stomach twisted – there was something wrong, something other about those eyes – and with a swift, graceful movement, he stepped into the puddle of yellow light.

Despite her promise to be quiet, April's breath caught and she could feel a scream pressing against the back of her throat.

"Do not cry out," he said again.

She pressed her lips together tightly and swallowed hard, scanning the creature before her from head to foot. He was well over six feet tall, with thick, mahogany-colored fur covering a sleek, powerfully-muscled body. Movement near the ground caught her eye, and she looked down to see a hairless, sinuous tail curling around his clawed feet.

"You're a – "

"Do you understand now why I must remain hidden?" he asked, voice hard.

"I..." She tore her eyes away from his tail and forced herself to look into his face. The first things her eyes took in were the wide ears, long face, and mobile whiskers of a rat...but she took a deep breath and looked again. And she made herself look past the face of the animal and into his eyes. Eyes that were intelligent, defiant, and full of deep pain.

And just like that, her reservations were gone. This was a creature unlike any she had ever seen before, but even though he wasn't human, he was a person. And he was hurting.

She took a deep breath and looked bravely up at him. "How can I help you?" she asked.

He stiffened. "What?"

"You're right. You need to stay hidden. But I've already seen you. So...tell me how I can help."

"You are not afraid of me?"

She tilted her head. "Should I be?"

He looked at her for a long moment. "Will you believe me if I say 'no'?"

April answered without hesitation. "Yes." She knew that most people would think she was making a dangerous decision, but she had always had an innate ability to sense when someone was being deceitful. And despite the fact that she was looking at a giant rat, she wasn't afraid of him. She knew that he was telling the truth. "Listen, my dad is at a conference out of town. It's just me at home right now. Let me help you and your son." When she saw him hesitate, she did her best to give him a reassuring smile. "I promise, I won't tell anyone I've seen you."

He just stared at her. "I am a stranger," he said in a low voice. "I could be dangerous. And you are alone."

"I know," she answered, heart giving an uneasy little skip. "But I'm usually pretty good at knowing when people are telling the truth. My dad calls it a sixth sense. And even though you're not exactly a person, I don't think you're lying and I don't think you'll hurt me. If you decide that you'll trust me, I will trust you."

He paused a moment longer before his shoulders slumped in a combination of resignation and relief. "Very well." He stepped back into the darkness but re-emerged a moment later, holding a small figure close against his chest.

April's eyes widened in surprise. She had expected to see a little rat, but the creature in her new acquaintance's arms was... "Is he...a turtle?"

The rat nodded. "It is a long story."

The little turtle had lifted his head at the sound of her voice, and April found herself staring into a pair of bright green eyes. The turtle looked her over warily, pressing close against his father's broad, furry chest.

"Oh..." April breathed. She took a tentative step forward and carefully extended her hand. The little turtle watched her movements...then very slowly reached out and wrapped his three smooth, surprisingly warm fingers around her thumb. A breathless little laugh escaped April's chest, and she looked up into the rat's face with an awed smile. "What's his name?"

The rat looked thoughtfully down into the little turtle's face. "He does not have one yet."

April looked back down at the turtle, but her face creased in a worried frown as she saw the rust-colored stain dried in the creases of his shell. Looking closer, she could see a jagged crack in the top of the shell on the left side of his chest. "What happened?"

"That is also a long story," the rat said. "And I will tell you if you wish to hear it. But since you have offered, I would be glad of your help. He was cut by a piece of glass. I removed most of it, but I believe that a shard may still be embedded in the wound. I have not been able to remove it."

"Oh, the poor thing! Yes, please, come inside," April said, beckoning him towards the door. She peered up the stairway, making sure it was deserted, then waved him inside. Despite his size, his footsteps were completely silent as he followed her upstairs. She kept darting little glances behind her as they climbed. After the initial shock of meeting him had faded, she had noticed that his deep, rich voice was touched with an accent that sounded Asian in origin, but she worried it might be rude to ask. So she put the lid on her not inconsiderable curiosity and simply hoped she'd be given the chance to ask him later.

She shut the apartment door behind them, trying not to stare at the bizarre sight of a six-foot rodent standing her living room. "My name is April," she told him, then ventured the one question she decided it would be polite to ask. "What's your name?"

His breath caught in his throat, and April's heart ached to see the sudden wave of sorrow in the expressive brown eyes. "To tell the truth, my dear," he said quietly, "I do not know if I have a name anymore."

April wasn't sure how to answer that. She wet her lips and did her best to give him a sympathetic look, then beckoned. "Come on. Let's take a look at the little guy."

The rat followed her into the brightly lit bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub, settling the little turtle in his lap. April sat next to him, deliberately ignoring the strangeness of being so close to a giant talking animal, and carefully reached out toward the turtle.

"It's okay, little dude, I'm just going to check you out," she said soothingly. The turtle fisted one hand in the fur on the rat's chest and his green eyes watched her every move with hawk-like intensity, but he didn't back away. She just petted the shell on his chest for a minute or two to get him used to her, then cautiously touched the cracked area and very gently pulled the edge of the shell back.

The turtle whined and tried to pull away, but the rat wrapped his arm more securely around his shoulders and held him still while April dabbed at the slow trickle of blood that her examination had caused. Sure enough, the rat had been right – she could see the sharp gleam of glass trapped beneath the dark yellow shell.

"Okay, there is glass in there," she said, looking up at the rat, "but I think I can get it."

The rat gently restrained his son while April got a pair of tweezers, carefully eased the thin shard free, and rinsed the wound. When the rat relaxed his hold, the turtle immediately turned away from April, whimpering as he hid his tear-filled eyes against his father's chest.

"Oh, sweetie, I wasn't trying to hurt you," April said softly. She tried to give his arm a reassuring pat, but he flinched away from her.

"He does not understand," the rat told her. "But please accept my gratitude. I would not have been able to help him on my own."

"It's okay," April answered, tamping down her disappointment. Although his reaction wasn't surprising, the little turtle was absolutely adorable and since the moment she first laid eyes on him, all she'd wanted to do was snatch him up and cuddle him. But apparently that wasn't going to happen.

She turned her attention back to the rat. "Listen, let me get you something to eat. And then...maybe you can tell me that long story you mentioned earlier?"

He thought briefly, then nodded his assent.

While April reheated leftovers, the rat talked. He told her how he had been human just forty-eight hours ago. How he had taken a shortcut home through a rat-infested alley and stumbled upon a meeting between strange, otherworldly-looking men. He told her they had attacked him and he had fought them off, but he had not escaped unscathed – a broken canister, a bizarre, glowing ooze that burned like cold fire, and then an overwhelming sense of fear and pain as his body was altered beyond all recognition. And then he was alone. Alone, except for four little turtles covered in ooze, huddled together in a pile of shattered glass, the remains of the bowl that had housed them.

"The bowl was broken in the fight. That is how this one was injured," he finished in a low voice, looking down at the little creature in his lap. "They were not afraid of me, and I knew I could not leave them. Not when they reached out to me for help. Not when they looked at me like..." But his teeth clamped shut on his words and he closed his eyes, and he would not say any more.

"There are four of them?" April asked in amazement. She looked down at the little turtle again. He had eaten the vegetables and rice at once, but after giving the chicken a dubious sniff, he pushed it away. "Where are the others?"

"They were asleep when I left, but I did not like to leave this one behind."

He had sidestepped the real question she had asked, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. "I meant: where did you leave them?"

"I have found a place to stay," he answered evasively.

April's eyes narrowed. Now that she had heard his story, she wasn't about to just let him fend for himself. "Okay," she said briskly, "well then, let me wrap up some food and grab a couple blankets and we can go."

He blinked at her in surprise. "Go?"

"To see the others," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They've already been left on their own for a while now, and I'm sure they're hungry, too."

He gave her a sharp look. "And why do you think you are coming with me?"

"You'll need help carrying everything," she answered breezily, spooning the rest of the leftovers into a couple Tupperware containers. She made sure to keep the meat separate in case the other turtles wouldn't like it either. She opened the refrigerator and started gathering a few apples and a half-empty bag of baby carrots, packing all the food into one of the reusable grocery bags her dad had purchased. Leaving the food on the counter, she hurried to the hall closet and stuffed a few blankets into a second bag.

The rat stared at her when she came back into the kitchen, whiskers bristling uncertainly. The little turtle noticed his father's unease and nestled closer against the furred chest, glaring distrustfully at the red-headed girl.

April gave an exasperated little sigh and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. You don't really think I'm going to just turn you out on your own, do you?"

"I do not need help," he said stonily.

"You did tonight."

The rat's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained silent.

April sighed again, but her voice gentled and she spoke carefully, not wanting to come across as patronizing. "Listen. I'm sure you can handle things on your own. But...do you really want to? I don't want to force myself where I'm not wanted, but I'm willing to help you. Or maybe there's someone else you can contact? Family or friends who would understand what happened to you?"

The rat was silent for a long moment. "No," he said quietly, voice heavy with defeat. "There is no one."

That was probably part of the long story he hadn't told her, but she knew it wasn't her place to press him. "Then may I help you?" she asked again.

His expression did not change, but the severe edge faded from his eyes. "You may," he said at last.

April carried the bag of food while the rat took the bag with the blankets in one hand and carried his son with the other. He turned off the light in the alley and carefully stepped out, scanning the empty street for any sign of movement. April wondered how he'd managed to get into the alley without being seen – but then she heard the metallic rumble of a manhole cover being moved.

"You live in the sewer?" she kept her voice to a whisper, but an incredulous squeak still escaped.

"I do now," he answered shortly. He lowered the bag of food as far as it would go, then let it drop before climbing down after it. The manhole was a tight fit for him, but he made it.

April stared at the black hole in the greasy concrete and swallowed hard. Taking her courage in both hands, she slung the bag's strap over her shoulder, sat on the ground, and slipped through the manhole, hands gripping the rust-coated ladder rungs as she descended into darkness. When she reached the bottom, the rat climbed up partway to pull the manhole cover back in place. The turtle stood anxiously at the foot of the ladder, one eye on his father and the other on April as the sewer tunnel was plunged into complete darkness. April didn't hear the rat come back down, so when she felt the touch of a warm, long-fingered hand on her arm she couldn't suppress a startled yelp. The echoes of her voice bounced off the concrete tunnel.

"Stay close to me," the rat said. His hand slid down her arm until his fingers wrapped around hers. April had just enough time to think how human and how alien his paw-hand felt before he gave her arm a little tug and led her away.

Nobody spoke during their journey. Even the little turtle remained utterly silent. April held the rat's hand tightly. Occasional bits of light filtered in through the holes in the manhole covers, but much of their trip was in darkness. She could hear the steady sound of running water – sometimes distant, sometimes very close – and at one point she felt something dripping onto her hair that she fervently hoped was condensation from the pipes overhead.

The rat led her to a boarded-up tunnel that was dimly illuminated by a street light shining down through a sewer grate. He let go of her hand and took hold of the large sheet of plywood in the center to push it aside with a shivery scraping sound. April's eyes widened when she saw a faint white light shining in the alcove beyond. Still holding the little turtle in his arms, the rat slipped through the narrow opening. Heart thumping with nervous excitement, April followed.

The first thing her eyes were drawn to was a little battery-powered camping lantern in the center of the small chamber. The light it emitted was dim, but to her dark-adjusted eyes, it seemed bright. The rat's fur glimmered in the soft light as he knelt down and gently nudged the sleeping turtles huddled together on a pile of newspaper. April sat cross-legged near the edge of the alcove and watched in quiet wonder as the little turtle's three siblings awoke and stretched before snuggling against the rat's sides. One of them moved close to the little one with the damaged shell and gently patted the cracked area, peering at the remnants of blood with curious concern in his serious blue eyes.

The rat's arms were full, holding the other two turtles, but he smiled kindly down at the worried youngster. "He will be all right," he said reassuringly. The second turtle wrapped his arms around his injured brother in a gentle hug.

The turtle cradled in the rat's right arm had noticed her. Wide blue eyes in a freckled face stared at her in astonishment. April gave him a little smile and waved, feeling a surge of delight as the little turtle laughed and waved enthusiastically back at her. He reached up a stubby hand and gave his father's fur a tug, kicking his feet until he was set down. He paused a moment, balancing, then toddled over to her, hands outstretched.

April couldn't help giggling as the little turtle let himself fall against her, clinging to her neck in a tight, enthusiastic hug. "Oh my gosh, he's strong!" she exclaimed, hugging the hard-shelled little body tightly.

The other three turtles were watching eagerly as the rat unpacked the food that April had brought, and all too soon the little turtle in her arms decided to go join them. But after he had eaten (the one with the cracked shell had no qualms about devouring a second helping), he came right back to her and climbed into her lap, snuggling close to rest his head against her shoulder.

"What do you have there?" April opened her hand as he held out his closed fist. He dropped a small, smooth pebble into her palm, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. April hugged him tight and kissed him on the nose. "Thank you! It's beautiful."

"He seems to have accepted you," the rat observed, watching as a second turtle approach.

April extended her hand to the newcomer. He carefully reached out to take her hand in both of his, studying it with wide brown eyes. April grinned again as he slowly folded and extended each finger one at a time before turning her hand over to first study the back of her hand, then her palm. He laid his smooth-skinned green hand against hers, gazing curiously down at the contrasting sizes and differing number of fingers.

"They seem so intelligent," April observed. "Do you think they'll be able to talk?"

"I do not know, but I believe that they will. You have heard them laughing and making sounds. And since I have retained my reason and ability to talk, I can only assume that they have been given the ability to think and speak."

The little brown-eyed turtle had gotten bored with her hand and started pushing at the turtle in April's lap. The freckled turtle willingly made room for his brother and April wrapped her arm around the second turtle as he nestled against her. When he tilted his head back and gave her a gap-toothed grin, her heart melted, and she leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead.

"Well, that's two out of four," she said, hugging them close as she smiled at the rat. To her surprise, he smiled back, the expression bending the distinguished-looking white streaks on his muzzle into friendly curves.

The turtle with the cracked shell was still staying close to his father, but the expression in the bright green eyes had thawed a little as he watched April interacting with his brothers. April smiled encouragingly and beckoned to the turtle she hadn't met yet. He was watching her with solemn blue eyes, still leaning against his brother, but when he saw her waving at him he smiled a little, lifted his head and looked up inquiringly at his father.

"It is all right," the rat told him. "You may go to her."

He stood up and tugged on his brother's hand, but the little one refused to budge. After a brief moment of indecision, the blue-eyed turtle left him and walked over to stand in front of April.

"It's okay," she said, smiling, "There's plenty of room." The freckled turtle gave an indignant squeak as she shifted him over again to make space, but when his brother climbed into the middle, he laughed and nuzzled his snout against the newcomer's cheek.

April and the rat didn't speak for a while, but the silence was comfortable rather than awkward. The turtle with the cracked shell began to yawn and nod off against his father's chest, and the three in April's lap soon grew drowsy as well. Before long, April was effectively pinned in place by three sleep-heavy turtles. She began to lose feeling in her legs, but she didn't care. She had completely fallen in love with these unique little creatures.

"It is getting late," the rat whispered at last. "I should return you to your home."

"I don't want to wake them," April answered in the same tone.

He smiled again. "I will move them." He stood, still cradling his sleeping son in one arm, and shook out the blankets April had given them. He deposited his son in the nest he'd created, then lifted the three sleepers from April's lap one at a time with a featherlight touch. He took the little freckled turtle last. As he set him down beside his brothers, the bright blue eyes opened just a bit, but the turtle didn't make any protest. He just murmured sleepily and curled against the one with the cracked shell – close enough to snuggle, but gently enough not to cause pain. The rat lifted a fold of the blanket and tucked them in.

"There," he said softly. "I believe they will stay asleep long enough for me to take you home."

April looked fondly down at the little turtle who had stubbornly avoided her. "I'll win you over yet," she promised in a whisper. She was glad for the rat's offer to help her up. Her legs tingled with pins and needles and she stumbled a little until feeling returned to her feet. They made the return journey in silence. This time, the hand holding hers did not feel strange at all. Though the initial trip through the sewers had seemed to take a long time, before April knew it she was following the rat up the ladder, climbing up into the alley beside her apartment building.

"April..." The rat sighed. "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness and compassion tonight. I will not forget it."

"You don't need to," April blurted out. "What I mean is...I want to still help you when I can. I love those babies."

His eyes softened. "I would like that," he said quietly. "I know that you must still be in school, but will you be able to come again on Saturday?"

She grinned, full of excitement and relief that he had given up trying to push her away. "Absolutely!"

"Very well. I will meet you here Saturday after dark."

She nodded enthusiastically. "I'll be here." She turned to go back inside, but paused on the stoop to look back. Her eyes widened. She hadn't heard a sound, but the rat had disappeared as if he had never been there and the manhole cover was in its proper place, looking completely undisturbed.

By the time she undressed and fell into bed, the hour was creeping past 3:30 AM. She didn't know how on earth she would manage to sleep after the excitement of that night, but her exhaustion won out and she soon dropped off.

The next morning, after slapping her blaring alarm clock into silence, she sat up in bed and rubbed her bleary eyes, trying to sort out whether or not the events of the night before had been a dream. It had felt so real...but no, it had to have been a dream. There was no way it had actually happened.

But then she saw the little pebble on her nightstand. Her heart gave a great joyful leap, and she started to laugh. She still had a lot of unanswered questions and she didn't know how to explain what had happened the night before, but she knew without a doubt that her life had just changed for good.