Author's comments: Well, this isn't my first piece of fan fiction but it is my very first TMNT fiction, so that still obligates a certain amount of gentleness in your reviews, right? Um, right? [silence ... someone coughs in the back] Uh, hee hee, okay. Well, after reading quite a lot of Raphael centered romances I decided to be unique (just like everyone else) and focus instead on another member of the group, one whom is often stilted and paid very little attention to: Leonardo. Now, while I like the red-wearing-tough-but-really-sweet- underneath turtle as much as the next girl, I thought maybe Leo could use some TLC.

PS for Donatello fans: Yes I know Donnie is probably more fiction-neglected then Leonardo, but I just can't seem to bring myself to write a romantic fiction about him. Sorry!

Oh, and this fiction is rated R for lots of adult stuff like language, sexual situations and violence. So if you're not old enough to be reading this type of thing then leave now! My status as a post-teen living at home, mooching off her parents with no income will not accommodate any law suit payments your parents may get up on their morale high horse to sling at me if they catch you reading this!

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. See above excuse on why not to sue me.

--- CHAPTER 1 ---

Autumn rains were beginning to lay their claim upon the city of New York in August—the lingering humidity of the summer made for thick downpours which drenched the canyons of skyscrapers and flushed the gutters. The smell of moisture, sweet and heady clung to the night air and in Central Park, the scent was laden with aromas of dew-sprinkled grass, damp wood and sod.

Madeline silently thanked the last shower as her fingertips skirted over the silky texture of the flower petals, catching the droplets clinging to their edges on her nails. The particular bloom she had been caressing was a perfectly shaped rose bud; she knew this by the thorns guarding the stem, warding off any would-be collectors. A rose would have been nice, in a little vase on her night stand, she mused, but too pointless to justify picking the flower. After all, what use would a blind girl have for pretty flowers which would sooner wilt and die?

No, it was better to leave the roses be in the garden beds, let them shed their petals and form the bulbous hips ready for new flowers next time. She could enjoy their soft feel and sugary perfume just as well here. Leaning down, she cupped the cluster of satin against her palm, brushing the tip of her nose along the outer corona, inhaling deeply with a content grin curling up the corners of her lips. As a drop of rain clung to her skin she laughed out loud and flinched back, wiping the water away with an amused chuckle.

A frigid breeze which passed down the gravel path and stirred the leaves overhead into a dull rustle chilled the moisture on the back of her hand, making a shiver climb up her spine. It was enough incentive to make Madeline decide now would be a good time to go home. She must have spent at least a few hours here tonight and it was getting late. She had enough sense to know that you didn't stay out alone for too long in New York...

The infamous crime rate attested to that.

Truthfully, she would have felt safer with a guide dog by her side, but unfortunately the que for such resources was just too extensive. She had put her application for one of the highly trained animal companions into the government over five years ago and still she was relying on the humble white cane. Two years ago they had told her she would be next in line in a matter of weeks. One year ago it had been a matter of months. And now, the last time she contacted the Guide Dog Society, she had been informed it could be years. A guide dog wasn't essential, she conceded, she could manage just fine with her cane. But at times like this, it would have been a comfort.

Now, did I come in from the west gate or the south gate? Madeline wondered, pausing to stand in the middle of the pathway and get her bearings. Had she passed the fountain yet? She wasn't sure, she had been too distracted in her thoughts to remember if she had heard the sound of the water. Such a simple thing like finding your way back out of a park, even one as large as Central, was made just that much harder for her. "Oh dear," the young woman mused aloud, putting her free hand on her hip and creasing her brow in concentration.

As she stood there, straining her ears to make out the nearest sound of traffic which could help direct her to the streets, Madeline felt something cool and wet drip onto her hand where it gripped her cane. "Hm?" she murmured, wiping it off on her jeans, but then another fell on her cheek, striking her eyelashes and causing her to squint in reflex. Another on her forehead, then more on her bottom lip. As the hissing sound grew steadily louder, Madeline realized it was starting to rain again.

No sooner the thought passed through her mind then the deluge hit with full gusto. The raindrops pelted down, growing very thick very fast. Madeline gave an exasperated cry at her own foolishness for not bringing an umbrella and started to run.

She wasn't sure where she was running to, she just followed the wet sound of the gravel path under her sneakers, sweeping her cane furiously infront of her toes to warn her of any obstacles as she went. Distantly, she thought she heard the sound of other footsteps crunching the walkway behind her, but the sound of the rain pattering against everything all around her was too disorientating for her to be sure. A tremor shuddered through her body which had very little to do with her clothing quickly soaking through to her skin. She ran faster, growing careless with her cane and almost veered off the edge of the path into the garden bed, desperate to just get out of the park and into a more public area, haunted by the feeling she was being followed. She could feel the weight of someone watching her like a giant hand pressing harder against her back with every step.

Suddenly, the sound of a boot thudded down heavily right on her heels and a cold, wet hand almost jerked her off her feet as it clamped down over her mouth from behind. Another stopped her from sliding onto her back by snaking around her waist and dragging her against a male chest, at the same time effectively pinning her arm which gripped the cane to her side at the elbow.

Madeline struggled, thrashing and trying to scream out past the fingers on her lips, but was only rewarded by being tilted back, lifting her kicking feet off the ground and thrown against something hard.

The body of her attacker followed close behind, slamming into her back and pressing her against the surface —as its rough texture grazed her cheek she realized it was a tree— his hands wedging themselves infront of her to grip a fistful of her breast through her t-shirt. Warm breath which smelt too sweet and foul puffed against the back of her ear. "Scream, bitch, and I'll fuckin' cut you up!"

"Please! Don't—!!"she whimpered, squirming against the tree trunk, trying to dislodge his hands from under her jacket. She was shaken viciously by a fist wound tightly into her hair, her face thudded so hard against the wood that the salty taste of her own blood filled her mouth.

"Shut up!" he growled, using his chest to crush her upper body into the tree and his free hand began to roughly pull and tear at the fly of her jeans, fighting to shove his meaty hands inside and cup her. The very thought made her stomach pitch and roll in revulsion and Madeline bucked her hips desperately.

Deciding it was better to risk it then just stand there and let him rape her –after all what did she have to loose?—the blind girl shrieked out: "Someone help mmmffffff!" The hand at her breast let go and wrapped itself tightly over her mouth again, as he pried his fingers into the corner of her jawbone painfully, like he was trying to tear it off.

"I said shut up!" the assailant snapped, pure rage for her defiance poisoning every word. Madeline was spun around hard and struck, the resounding –CRACK!— of his open fist striking her cheek was accompanied by pain exploding from beneath her left eye like her cheekbone had just been shattered.

She wanted to cry out in pain, but too quickly she collapsed to the wet lawn face first, stunned with such acute dizziness the ground seemed to rock and tilt beneath her.

"Dude, you're rapin' a blind chick?! That's SO wrong!"

"C'mon, Mikey. Let's teach this asshole some manners!"

Madeline felt sick, like she was going to thrown up from the mad Tilt-O- Whirl her equilibrium had become, and she groaned, clutching fistfuls of the grass to anchor herself. Somewhere near by she head a dull –THOK— followed by a heavy thud.

"Raph! Watch your language around the lady!"

"Ahhhh, quit bein' a fucking boy-scout, Leo and just get her, will ya?"

With one foot in the waking world and other in unconsciousness, Madeline felt large hands clutch her shoulders, rolling her onto her back. She moaned wordlessly, barely possessing enough of her faculties to worry who had her now or what their intentions were. Those hands slid under her back and knees, lifting her with a masculine grunt and shouldering her head against what she thought was a leather jacket, slick and smooth with the rain.

As she relaxed limply into the hold, the sounds of voices chased her into oblivion:

"... Isn't going to be happy about this..."

"... You want me to do, Donnie? Leave her...."

"... up, guys! I'm cold and I just wanna get home to a nice, re-heated ..."

"... Dammit ..."


Enter our heroes in the half-shell! Rather graphic and violent for a first chapter I know, but hey, I did warn you at the top of the page! I waste no time in fulfilling my ratings! When I say R, I mean R, folks.

So, assuming I didn't loose any readers because of that, continue on for the next chapter to discover Madeline's fate! Who could the mystery men be I wonder? (Do I really need to answer that?) -QA