Destiny wakes to find herself back in her room, tucked in, alone. She exhales and rolls onto her back, stretching her arms out until her fists touch the wall. A doglike whining sound escapes her as she does the same with her legs.

She sits up to see a bowl of some kind of soup waiting on her bedside table, tendrils of steam still rising from the liquid. There's a slice of toast and a glass of water accompanying it.

She reaches out and takes the spoon, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and leaning over the bowl. She takes a tiny bit of the soup and puts it to her mouth, swallowing it. Her face instantly scrunches up as the odd flavour of chicken noodle soup, cheese, and some sort of tomato sauce mingles on her tongue. She feels like this sort of thing is something she'd be repulsed by, but she finds it oddly delicious and takes another spoonful.

Soon, her food is done and she heads off to the bathroom to shower and clean herself up, remembering what April said about personal hygiene being important.

Inside the bathroom, she sits down on the closed toilet and stares at her bandages. A sick feeling twists her stomach as she reaches for the end of the pinned down cloth, but she swallows it back and begins unwrapping.

Her previous action against her upset stomach doesn't help this time. Her arms are crisscrossed everywhere with thin lacerations, most of them already pink-rimmed and starting to scab over. She can't take her eyes off them, disgust making her feel flashes of utter rage and complete, crushing sorrow.

She shakes her head rapidly as tears well up in her eyes, forcing herself to her feet and pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes as she takes deep breaths. There's a tingling, knotted feeling traversing her entire torso and chest, making her want to go back to Foot Headquarters simply to beat all of them senseless.

She drops her hands from her eyes and takes another deep breath. She disrobes and gets into the shower, reaching for the nozzle and turning it.

A jet of cold water hits her. Her entire body seizes up and she lets out a cry as she collapses into the tub, knocking over numerous bottles and shutting the water off with a jerking movement of her hand.

She pants, shivering and hugging herself tightly as she gulps back whimpering sobs. No electricity, she tells herself over and over. There's no electricity. This is a shower. It's helpful. It makes you clean.

There's a knock at the door that makes her go completely silent.

"Des? You okay in there?" Raphael asks.

"I'm fine!" Destiny retorts, being a little louder than she needs to be accidentally.

There's a pause from the turtle on the other side of the door. "You sure? 'Cause you screamed and then we heard crashing—"

"I told you, I'm fine!" she snaps. "Just go!"

"Okay...okay..." he mutters.

She listens as he walks away. Once he's far enough away for her, she shakily gets back to her feet and climbs out of the tub. She stares at the nozzle, steeling herself as she picks up the fallen bottles and puts them back on the correct ledges.

"I'm not going to let those jerks ruin showering for me," she says under her breath. "I can do this...no electricity. Deep breaths."

Just to be safe, she finds anything mildly electronic and anything sharp, like shaving razors, and puts them in a closed cabinet far from any liquids. Feeling a little better, she starts the water and holds her hand beneath it.

Once it's a warmer temperature, she gets back in, and feels a slight sense of victory when she doesn't want to cry or curl up in a ball. One small step for wolfkind, right?

She shampoos and conditions her incredibly matted curls, using her claws to untangle all the strands. She finishes up quicker than usual, less than five minutes she can guess, shuts off the water, and wraps herself in a towel as she gets out.

She makes a move towards the door, but stops when she catches a brief view of herself in the mirror. She shuts her eyes, her hand tightening slightly around the doorknob.

One more thing to conquer, she thinks as she turns to look at herself in the reflective surface.

She instantly regrets her decision, that angered, sick feeling returning to her. She hardly recognizes the torn, bruised mess of a mutant staring back at her. This mutant's eyes are hollow with painful memories swimming within their green depths. This mutant looks like she's been through hell and back.

Destiny knows that it's her, but she doesn't want to believe it. She doesn't feel like Destiny anymore.

She looks down, tracing the scars lining her arms before running her fingertips along the deep ones on her face. The three claw marks crossing down her eye and some of her cheek are still red and ragged, giving her a very good idea of just how long they're going to take to close up and heal.

The only even mildly optimistic thing she can find to say is that at least she didn't lose her eye.

Golden cat eyes flash in her mind and a growl escapes her. Before she can stop herself, she punches the mirror square in her reflection's face. Her knuckles explode with pain as the material spiderwebs out with new breakage.

She drops her hand from it, blood starting to trickle down her skin. She makes a sad sound, like sorrow's excuse for a laugh, her entire body starts to tremble, she sinks to the floor as if gravity has suddenly increased on her, and her head and shoulders sag as the tears finally escape. She's torn apart and barely standing and it hurts, like a knife in her gut that keeps twisting. Her nose starts to run as she sobs harder, her breaths coming in quick gulps.

There's too many thoughts, too much for her to process all at once. She's hideous and she wasn't even drop dead gorgeous before. She used to look pretty much like your normal, fifteen-year-old girl with some freaky Halloween-style elements to her, but now she's got puffy eyes, a red nose, and her face and arms look to her like she was sent through a paper shredder or at least thrown to a pack of rabid squirrels.

How on earth did I actually survive all that?

Another knock sounds on the bathroom door, but she doesn't bother answering.

"Des?" Donatello calls, knocking a few more times. "Destiny, open the door."

When she still doesn't move or offer any response other than weeping, the doorknob jiggles a few times, there's the sound of clicking, and the door swings open. She pulls the towel closer to her body with her non-injured hand, the bloodied one clapping over her mouth as she rocks slightly back and forth.

"What did..." Donatello's eyes flicker to the mirror, than down at her. He purses his lips and kneels next to her. "Des, come on, I'll clean that up for you," he murmurs, pulling her hand from her mouth.

"W-Why did t-they do t-this?" she asks as she sniffs deeply through her nose, her voice scratchy. "W-What d-did I ev-ver do t-to t-them? W-Why, D-Donnie? I w-want to—"

"Ssh, Des, it's okay," he comforts, resting a hand on her back and making soothing circular movements against her skin. "You're allowed to be upset, just take a few deep breaths...in through the nose, out through the mouth...good..."

She obeys his orders, taking the cleansing breaths until she can breathe normally again. Donatello grasps her arms as gently as possible and helps to lift her back to her feet, where she's still keeping the towel wrapped tightly around herself.

He brings her back to her room, where he waits patiently for her to get some clothes on. When she reemerges, she's wearing a hoodie and jeans and she's combed her damp ringlets over the scarred half of her face. Her tail hangs rather limply, the fur still wet as well. With a hollow glance at the turtle before her, she continues on towards the laboratory.

Destiny glances at the living room as she goes by, where Michelangelo and Raphael are watching Super Robo Mecha Force Five with Casey and April. April looks up at her, giving her a tiny smile before she notices the bloody knuckles and concern overrides all else.

"What happened?" she gasps.

"Nothing," Destiny responds, deadpan.

"She punched a mirror," Donatello answers as he gets to Destiny's side.

April's blue eyes get impossibly wider as the other three boys in the room finally direct their attention off the TV set. Destiny's eyes flicker to the screen for a split second, just in time to see one of the characters get shot with a bolt of electricity. She flinches noticeably and looks away.

Donatello flashes a gapped smile and rests his hand on her shoulder. "I'll get her bandaged up and it'll be fine," he says with a tone that is way too happy to be genuine. "Come along, Destiny."

She obeys, keeping her head lowered away from the spectators as she shuffles into Donatello's lab, him following closely behind. He's quick to clean her up, picking the tiny pieces of shattered mirror from her skin before bandaging up her hand. She doesn't say a word the entire time, eyes focused on someplace that isn't the lair.

"So, do you want to tell me what's going on?" he asks, calculating every word as he says it.

"Saki...that's the Shredder's name, right?" she wonders, still not looking his way. Her fingers curl inwards slightly. "Tall man in a suit of armour, sharp tekkō-kagi, helmet, half his face is burnt—"

"Yes," Donatello answers, leaning in slightly. "Did you meet him?"

She shakes her head. "I saw him in a dream I had last night," she mumbles, bringing her unhurt hand to the bandages and starting to rub them absentmindedly. "He...he was awful..."

He gives her a knowing look. "Yeah...I know," he says, starting to put away his medical supplies into the correct kit. He exhales, his bottom lip pouting out a bit. "Huh..."

"What?" Destiny asks.

"It's just..." He looks up at her with a shrug. "As far as I know, you can't create new faces in your dreams. You can only see faces that you've seen before, so it doesn't make sense that you saw Shredder."

"I did," she states, her jaw clenching.

"I believe you. It's just interesting."

They fall into silence. Donatello shuts his first aid kit, getting up to go and put it back in its spot. Destiny also gets to her feet, burying her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

"Thanks for the bandages," she says, turning towards the door.

"Woah, woah, wait!" he calls. "You didn't answer my question. Could—"

"I don't want to talk about it," she utters.

She leaves the lab without another word, leaving the hapless turtle behind. He exhales, rubs the back of his neck, and shakes his head.

In the living room, Destiny sits down next to Casey and tries to lose herself in the cartoon. It does little to help her overall situation. Raphael keeps glancing at her, as if waiting for her to snap.

"You know, wolfie, if you ask me, the scars make you look cooler," Casey comments, a grin lifting his cheeks as he nudges Destiny lightly with his shoulder.

Her lips twitch upwards at the corner. "Thanks Case."

Michelangelo's head snaps to look in her direction. He frowns, revealing a serious expression that Destiny isn't used to. "What's wrong?"

She takes in a shaky breath, feeling like if she says another word she'll break apart into pieces. "I'm still getting used to...my new look...and everything else."

The orange-masked turtle's face falls. "Are you afraid that you look ugly?"

She hugs her knees to her chest, face twisting, throat tightening, eyes stinging, and she nods before burying her face in her knees. She doesn't want to cry again.

"Dudette, please don't cry. You'll make me cry..." Michelangelo says, placing a hand on her leg.

She stands up, brushing his hand away. "I just need to be alone."

She heads towards the dojo, knowing that it'll be quiet and empty there, perfect for her to sit and try to forget about everything. Raphael goes to stand up, but April shakes her head at him and he sighs before returning to his previous spot.

Destiny walks into the dojo, fully prepared to be alone, only to find that there's someone already there. She stops short. Leonardo meditates beneath the tree, his eyes closed, his breaths even, his hands resting on his knees.

Destiny feels herself relax a little just by looking at him. He looks so strong, so capable, so...alluring. She makes a soft sighing sound to herself.

"Des? Is that you?" he asks, not opening his eyes.

She tenses. "Oh, sorry, I didn't..." She clears her throat. "I'll go."

"No, no, it's okay," he says as he opens his eyes. His content smile falls when he sees her, causing her to bite her lip. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Fine," she responds. She looks at her feet and mumbles out, "Once I was with you, that is..."

He smiles a little at that, but it disappears all too quickly. He gets to his feet and moves towards her. She lifts her fingers to her hair and makes sure that her scars are covered again.

"And...everything else? Is that okay?" he wonders.

She blinks rapidly, tears pricking at her eyes for the millionth time today. If one more person asks her if she's okay, she's going to lose her mind. Why can't she just smile and act like nothing is wrong? No one likes an emotional teenage girl.

"Define 'okay'," she says, wavering slightly in tone.

Leonardo responds instantly to her distress. He opens his arms to her, giving her a hopeful look, and she accepts his invitation by walking into his embrace. His cheek rests against her hair as her head falls to his left shoulder, her hand starting to trace the marks and scratches on his plastron.

That's when he notices the bandages on her knuckles. He pulls away from her and takes her hand in his.

"What did you do?" he asks.

"Punched a mirror."

Surprise invades his features, followed closely by concern. "Okay," he mumbles, dragging out the word a bit. "Why did you punch a mirror?"

She looks away from his face in lieu of their touching hands. "There was a stranger staring back at me," she says.

His previous emotions are easily switched out with realization. He gazes upon her face, finally noticing her choice of hairstyle.

"And that's why—" he starts, reaching out to brush the dark curls away.

She grasps his wrist in an instant, her one visible eye getting just a little wider. "No."

"Des, why are you covering them?"

"I just...don't want to look at them," she says. He arches an eye-ridge, making her purse her lips. "Okay, I...I want to look like me again."

"You are you."

"Well, then I don't recognize myself."

He doesn't respond to that. Instead, he brushes away the curtain of hair blocking her scars from view. He looks at them for a moment before backing off and letting her re-situate them.

"I like them. You look rugged," he states.

"I think you're lying," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why would I lie to you?"

She exhales. "Isn't that what boyfriends always do?" she asks. She deepens her voice in order to imitate a more masculine voice. "Aw, like, don't worry, babe, you look great! You totally don't look gross." She gives him a pointed look as she returns to her own voice. "And don't they say that no matter what their girlfriend looks like?"

His smile grows. "Where'd you get that idea?"

She turns slightly red and mumbles out, "Movies..."

He laughs, the sound a little louder and going on for longer than before. Destiny scuffs her foot against the ground, a scowl forming on her lips. Leonardo's laughter fades, a bright look appearing in his eye as he takes her hand and brings her further into the dojo. She tightens her fingers around his.

"Okay, I'll be completely honest, they're unnerving and you look very different than you did before," he admits. She sighs, having expected that answer, but he continues, "That doesn't mean that I don't think you're a lovely girl, or that I don't think I can get used to them."

She stares at him, lips slightly puckered as her mind races to find a response. He flips her hand in his so that their palms are touching, then his fingers gently tighten around her until, somehow, her five fingers and his three are locked together comfortably.

He steps closer to her. "Besides...I'd be a hypocrite if I said I didn't like you anymore because of how you look." She smiles a little at that, making him light up. He swings their hands. "Hey, I made you smile! I win."

"Win? Win what?" she asks. "I didn't know there was a contest."

"The second you came in here, I made it my goal to make you smile, because you look prettier that way," he says, speaking in such a matter-of-fact way that Destiny starts to believe him. "So..." He lifts his hand and pokes her cheek, making her shy back and bat his hand away as she nearly giggles. "I win."

"You're a goofball."

"And..." He winks, leaning closer to her. "I'm also your boyfriend." He pecks her nose and she wiggles it, shaking her head as her tail starts to wag.

Before they can say anything more, a piercing shriek sounds from outside and makes Destiny's ears flatten against her head.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Michelangelo screams.

Leonardo rolls his eyes, giving Destiny a tired look. She gestures sideways, seeming to say "by all means" with just a look. He sighs and leaves the dojo, her trailing along behind him. They're greeted with a very angry and sopping wet Raphael and a terrified Michelangelo.

"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE FREAK!" the former bellows.

"See, this is why I threw the water balloon, Raph! You need to cool off!"

"I'LL DE-SHELL YOU!"

"Guys, please stop!" Leonardo begs, dashing off to help his littlest brother.

Destiny smiles again as she lifts her fingers to fiddle with her curls. Somehow, she doesn't find it hard to believe that she can get used to this "new her" too. It'll take time, but she'll get used to them.