Those cool Ninja Turtles are sadly not mine/ I beg and I wish and I plead all the time/ And though I do so/ I thought you should know/ But now I can't think of a rhyme.

Calming

"Leonardo! Sit down!"

Splinter's voice cracked through the lair like a thunderclap. The eldest Turtle had been hovering over the unfortunate Dr. Baker ever since they'd brought him back to their place, blindfolded and bleeding. It had mattered not to him that he was in Donatello's and Splinter's way as they examined, cleaned and tended to the jagged cut on the scientist's arm; he had loomed, dark and brooding and threatening just within reach of the shivering man, now quaking not so much from delayed shock as fear- fear of this mutant with the deadly katana that he kept cleaning in front of him, katana that shown with a reflected light that for sheer coldness were rivaled only by the even colder gleam in Leonardo's eyes as he stared at Baker.

Leo, without a sound, moved to the couch. But his eyes did not leave Baker. And his katana remained in his hand, as he kept cleaning and polishing them.

Splinter had had Raphael escort the nearly collapsing man to his own chair. For the past fifteen minutes he and Donatello had worked with a skill and gentleness that frankly stunned the terrified man. He had cringed as they discussed whether the wound needed stitching, and had inwardly sighed with relief as they'd decided to work with butterfly strips instead.

"But I suggest that at your first opportunity you see a doctor," Splinter, voice cold despite his care, said, as Donatello put the finishing touches on the large bandage.

Michelangelo, in the meantime, had without anyone's direction made tea for everyone. He had studied the large and varied choices in the cupboard, and finally chose some kava tea- everyone, he sensed, needed some stress relief, and the kava would do the trick.

Splinter, it seemed, was the only one who registered this effort of Michelangelo's however. Everyone else merely accepted without question the tea, though whether they would drink it or not was another matter.

Dr. Baker stared at the cup that was offered to him by Mikey, hesitant to take it.

"Go on, dude," Mikey, misunderstanding, joked. "I didn't poison it. Wouldn't make sense to do that after all the work Don and Master Splinter put into taking care of your arm."

Baker, as if startled out of a daze, took the tea in his trembling hands and forced himself to drink it. He refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room. The events of the past few hours were threatening to overwhelm the man after so many, many months of hiding, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold himself together.

"Now, Dr. Baker," Splinter's voice startled the man more than anything else; the tea slightly slopped over the side of the cup as he jumped. His eyes fixed on the rat, finally getting a good look. His mind struggled with itself: a mutated species of a domesticated rat, possibly a blue? to which the response was Stop it! Stop it! All that science has gotten you is misery and pain! STOP IT!

"How do you know my name?"

A simple question, and one that he had to ask.

"My sons discovered many months ago that someone was looking for you," Splinter replied, sipping his own tea. "They came across a gang who was searching among the homeless for you. One of them retrieved your government identification card."

Baker tried to think back. He'd been hiding for so long, it was hard for him to remember when. He knew he'd left Bishop's employment sometime after the invasion was over; yes- it was around then-

"We were brought the bodies of the aliens," he began to say, as if unaware of the fact that he was speaking. "We were brought several bodies of the Triceratons, and ordered to perform complete examinations. We were told to make a thorough dissection to find out more about them."

"They was intelligent beings!" Raph's growl cut through the narrative, startling the man in the chair. He dropped his tea, spilling it all over his lap. The cup clattered to the floor but didn't break. He tried to push himself into the chair, to hide from the words of this Turtle.

Though Raph had spoken so forcefully, he had remained on his perch, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Splinter, whose fatherly hand had been placed on his son's knee, both for comfort and to comfort.

"I know! I know!" Baker nodded violently, and his voice began to crack. "But they were aliens! All my time with the Organization, we had done this type of thing, mostly on old specimens. We never asked why or who or how! We were just so excited! We were on the cutting edge of Science, making discovery after discovery! Who knew if one of them would lead to a cure for cancer, or a way to end birth defects, or prolong life-"

Belatedly he realized that they were all staring at him in disgust.

He agreed. Disgusting man! Inhuman man!

"I was stripping one of the Triceratons when I came across this," and he pulled from his pocket the one thing he'd managed to hold onto all these dangerous months. It was a medallion, hanging from a sturdy chain. It was shaped like the insignia on the uniforms- heart-shaped, yet with straight lines and angles instead of curves. About three inches long, and a fourth of an inch thick, it had three colorful squares on it that sharply reminded Don of the key cards that the guards at the Triceraton prison used.

Don took the medallion, examining it, the man's story forgotten for the moment. Pressing the blue square, a sudden light shot out from it, and there was a holographic image of the Triceraton.

"Tragion, second lieutenant, 00zed849alpha7725. Long live the Republic!" the voice, deep, confident, yet not very loud, sounded from the image.

"Whoa! A Triceraton equivalent of dog tags!" Don breathed, impressed. Then he looked back at Baker. "This is what brought about the change in your attitude?"

Baker, tears in his eyes as he once again looked at this image, shook his head no.

"It was what was revealed when you press the yellow square," he whispered hoarsely. He shut his eyes, squeezing the tears out; they ran freely down his face, but he would not open them. He knew that Donatello was going to press that button. It was all he could do to keep from putting his hands to his ears.

Don, pushing the button, gasped- and so did the others, now crowded around for a better look.

As if standing on Don's outstretched hand there was another holographic projection- this one of a female Triceraton, dressed in a simple gown of lavender. Playing around her feet were two very young Triceratons, and in a container of some sort they could see what appeared to be two large, leathery-looking objects.

"By the time you return home, my love, the eggs will have hatched," the female smiled. "And these two naughty children will be finally walking!"

Here she reached down and laughingly swatted both on their tails. Their childish laughter, echoing throughout the lair, was only answered by the muffled sob of the man in the chair.

"Hurry home, my love! I miss you."

The image faded; the projection had run its course.

Mikey got up and left the room. He had to go somewhere else, to get out of this room, this home- he needed to get away from that man. Watching those images had sharply reminded him of another Triceraton- Zog. Had Zog carried one of these things? Or were they only for officers?

The others heard the door to the lair open then shut. No one commented on Mikey's leaving.

Splinter stole a glance at his other sons. Donatello was studying the device, but he could tell that his son was not as detached as he pretended to be from the emotions this image had summoned in all of them.

Raphael wore that expression of suppressed rage that Splinter knew all too well. He watched as his violative son flexed his fingers absently, as if feeling his weapons in them, while he glared at this human seated before them. Splinter could feel the anger emanating from Raphael.

But he was keeping it under control; for that Splinter was thanking his ancestors.

Leonardo, who had gotten up off the couch to get a better look, now stood frozen near the chair, and Splinter for a brief moment had a vision of his oldest losing control and attacking their "guest".

The ligaments in Leonardo's neck were standing out as he clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything. He, too, flexed his hands as if they held his twin katana. He, too, wore a look of utter contempt and anger, of rage beyond belief at what had been revealed. But he, too, kept himself in check.

"I- I knew then," Baker's voice, harsh and choked with emotion, cut through the silence like a knife, "I finally knew then what I had become. I had made excuse after excuse from the moment Bishop showed us our first alien specimen, that it was in the name of Science; that we were doing something important that could save the world; that no matter what, these creatures were not human, they were dead anyway, what could it matter?"

He forced his eyes open, made direct eye contact with Splinter.

"Even when I was presented with the living specimen of a mutated Crocodile- even when he spoke to me, stared at me with those eyes that reflected intelligence and understanding and fear- even when Bishop presented us with these four-"

That was it! Leo had the man by the shirt front so swiftly that he'd not had time to prepare or even shriek.

As fast as Leo was, Don was faster! With a sudden sweep of his leg, he brought Leo down, hard, on his shell, with the unfortunate Baker landing on top of him. But before Leo could recover, Splinter had snatched the stunned scientist from his son's grasp, while Don flipped Leo over and got him into a restraining hold that his angry brother could not escape. But he tried; oh how he tried!

"Leonardo! Go to your room!" Splinter shouted. "Do not leave it until I say to!"

Leo quit struggling. At a nod from Splinter, Don released his brother.

Leo got up and without a look at anyone went to his room as quickly as he could. His age and position as leader kept him from slamming the door like a brat, but his anger loosed itself on his mattress and pillows.

The muffled sounds of emotion could be heard coming from upstairs.

"This is why Leo needs a punching bag in his room," Raph growled, his eyes on the man who was being escorted back to the chair by Splinter. He was wishing that he could have a go at someone or something at the moment.

Splinter resumed his own seat, wishing that he could vent his own anger and horror, but knowing that he could not.

"So, you left the employment of Bishop," he said, trying to restore calm to himself and their "guest". "And he did not like your departure?"

"Too many secrets," Baker mumbled, still appearing shook up; also, he was becoming so exhausted! The terror of the past few hours; the injury to his arm; the emotions that he'd been flooded with were draining him of energy. He wanted to sleep. He desperately wanted to go somewhere safe and sleep and forget all of this nightmare.

Just sleep.

"Too many secrets about regenerating the body," he shook himself, trying to keep from closing his eyes. "Bishop had found a way to prolong his life- at least, that was our speculation. We had a bit of proof that he had been the head of this program for longer than seemed humanly possible. I had worked with them for about fifteen years, and while those around me aged appropriately- me, included- Bishop always seemed unchanged."

"Could it have anything to do with cloning?" Don asked, remembering that underground lab when they first rescued Splinter. All those clones! Had Bishop found a way to prolong his life through the use of the clones?

"Perhaps. We never really found out," Baker replied, slowing down more and more. So tired. So very tired. "I was responsible for a special project having to do with regenerating the brain. I was told that it was with the goal of repairing brain damage to people with head injuries, or stroke victims... I was told that it was for Humanity... I was told..."

He sagged in the chair, eyes closing in spite of himself.

"I was told a lot of things that proved to be lies," he whispered. Then he rallied himself, sat up straight, looked at the three remaining beings in the room. "Please! All I want is to be free! It was stupid of me to stay in New York, but at the time I knew that it was my safest option. Bishop expected those of us who ran to try to get as far away as possible. That made it easy for him to find them! But I knew if I stayed close to his base of operations, I would stand a better chance of finally escaping! Now he is dead, yet people still hunt me! I just- I just want-"

He sagged again, sighed, stared at the floor, spent and resigned. Let whatever was going to happen, happen. He was a dead man either way.

Splinter rose from the couch, studying this human critically.

"Donatello," he finally said. "I would be grateful if you would allow this gentleman the use of your room for a few hours. He needs to rest. We can discuss this matter further later."

"Hai, Sensei," Don bowed. "Dr. Baker? If you will come with me?"

Baker, in a daze, meekly arose and followed the brainy turtle upstairs.

"We're gonna keep him?" Raph asked Splinter, following his father into the kitchen. Splinter filled a small pot with water and set it on the stove. The tea that Michelangelo had made was nice, but Splinter was craving something a bit stronger- kanzake.

Raphael watched as Splinter got out his tokkuri of sake and three cups. He stood by the stove, waiting for the water to reach the right temperature, and looked at Raphael.

"For now, I fear we have no choice," he replied, as the water quickly heated to the right temperature. Splinter turned off the flames and sat his tokkuri into the water, watching the sake, waiting for the bubbles to rise. He wanted joukan. "We have landed ourselves into the middle of something that we must now see through. How we are to do that I have no idea. I am sure of one thing, however; we have made ourselves very much a target for the Foot. I doubt that Karai will sit still for long."

When the joukan was ready, Splinter poured himself a cup, as well as one for Raphael and one for Donatello, who had come into the kitchen.

"They were a pretty lame bunch," Raph commented, waiting for the hot drink to cool just a bit, not wanting to scald his tongue like the last time.

"Yeah, and Karai wasn't at her normal level of skill, either," Don agreed, sipping his drink. "Great- now I'm craving sashimi. The Foot we were spying on were grumbling about how things had changed since she took control. Lots of stuff like choice jobs and special training reserved for 'the Tokyo bunch', while they, the loyal ninja of the great Oroku Saki, were treated as gaijin and deemed unworthy."

"Yeah? I wonder which group we went up against tonight?" Raph mused, sipping his now somewhat cooler drink and enjoying the "kick" that it gave him.

Splinter sipped his own kanzake, thinking on everything that they had learned. He sighed, and shook his head.

"Regardless of who was there tonight, I doubt that the next encounter will be as simple," he said. "For now, we will keep this man. It is my opinion that to have him loose would spell disaster for us, regardless of who captures him. Let us make sure he cannot leave the lair until we wish him to."

He finished his drink and had another. Then he arose from the table, looking grim.

"You two can explain it to Michelangelo when he returns," he said, drawing in a deep breath and letting it go. "I will explain it to Leonardo. Oh, and do not drink up all the kanzake! I will probably want another cup once Leonardo and I are finished with our discussion."

And with that, he made his way to his eldest son's room.