A/N: This story is the direct prequel, if you will, to my previous story, "House Arrest". Please read that before venturing into this. It's fairly short and gives a bit of background. This is based on a season five episode of The X-Files, entitled "Bad Blood". You don't have to have seen it in order to enjoy the story, but it may be helpful to get a better understanding. Unfortunately, it is not an easy epiosde to find online, so you may have to download it if unable to find it. LIke the previous story, I am basing the turtles on the 2003 cartoon series (not including FF or BTTS)

DISCLAIMER - TMNT and its characters are property of Eastman, Laird, and Mirage Studios. The X Files are property of Chris Carter and 20th Century Fox


Just the Facts

Prologue

The night air was slightly chilly in New York, as the beginning of winter began to creep upon the residents. While the night sky darkened to give way to midnight, the stillness quickly gave way to screams. The life of one young man hung in balance as he ran through the back alleys of Manhattan, panting and legs hurting from the exertion.

Even as he ran, he screamed, hoping someone, anyone would hear his pleas. But he knew, being a New Yorker, the chances of getting help were slim to none – rather, none to none. The man took a risk by looking back at his pursuer and was frightened as the being seemed to getting closer, almost right on the boy's heels. Frantically, the younger man pressed on, his path taking him to the Westside of Central Park and hopefully towards some sort of safety within the group of trees ahead.

Feeling the breath of his follower on his neck, the young man tried pushing himself harder, faster. He could probably escape in the streets of Harlem; he knew his way around down there, he knew shortcuts and he hoped to God or whoever that his pursuer didn't know anything about the sublet city. Bursting through a clearing in the park, the young man ignored scratches and bruises that the trees made; he only cared about one thing.

Safety.

His hopes however were soon dashed when he was tackled from behind and both figures hit the ground hard. The young man struggled, trying to find some sort of leverage against his attacker; literally fighting for his life. The pursuer, shorter though obviously built like a wall, didn't give much leeway to his prey. He pushed away flailing arms and kept his prey's lower half immobile by sitting on his legs. The attacker suddenly grabbed something from its belt and the man knew he was in trouble when he saw the glint of steel in the moonlight.

If anything, his screams got louder and he struggled more, which seemed to irritate the attacker. Seeing an opening, the young man saw the blade come down and enter his chest once, then twice. Then he knew no more.

His attacker meanwhile gave a third stab, leaving the weapon protruding out of the man's chest. A disturbance behind him caused the attacker to see who would be coming after him. Turning, the moon caught sight of not a man, but what seemed to be a large turtle, one whose mask was as red as the blood that poured from the man's chest. A group of three more turtles came closer, each wearing a different colored mask and kneeling next to the first and the body. The newcomers were out of breath, but also seemed rather shocked at the body that lay on the ground.

The red masked turtle pointed to the body, though more specifically to the blood that seemed to be around the victim's mouth. "See?" he asked. "See?"

One of the other turtles, one that seemed to be wearing purple, also looked at the blood around the mouth. Taking a burly finger, he brushed some off and stared at it in the moonlight. Then he sniffed it, before tentatively putting his tongue to his finger in order to taste it.

"Oh gross, Donnie!"

The purple turtle, the one named Donnie, looked at his red masked friend. "It's not blood," he whispered.

The other three were of course confused, especially the red turtle. He repeated the actions Donnie had made, tasting the apparent blood before his face drained of color.

"It's not blood," Donnie repeated. "It's pizza sauce."

The red turtle's eyes widened, if they hadn't be wide already once he had also confirmed what Donnie had reported. There was really only one thing he could say to something like this.

"Oh sh…"

Chapter I

Trudging through the sewers on a Friday night wasn't exactly a fun time for all, especially after the day they had. Four beings, four turtles to be exact, were taking a normal route to their underground lair that they called home. Usually, after a night of being above – what they termed 'topside' - the four were mostly rambunctious and playing around. This night however seemed to just be the culmination of a bad day gone completely wrong.

This was especially grating on Leonardo, who was deemed as the eldest of his three brothers. This day had gone from bad to worse in the span of the last sixteen hours and it seemed it had gotten worse before it had gotten better. But to, of course, top it off, Master Splinter would be returning home soon and they would have to explain to him why they had just…apparently murdered an innocent man in cold blood.

This was not good.

Upon reaching the hidden area where their home lay, Leo turned to look at his brothers. "What're we going to do?" he asked.

"About what?" His brother Raphael asked him, entering their domain behind his little brother, Donatello.

"About…are you kidding me?" he exclaimed. "I'm not the one who did the sneak sneak, stab stab!"

Leo waited until all four of them were inside and through the entrance before he again brought up their situation. "Master Splinter will be home within the hour," he stressed. "What're we going to tell him?"

"We'll tell him what we saw," Raph pointed out. "Why? What're you gonna tell him?"

"I'll tell him exactly what I saw."

"How is that different?"

Leo gave his more temperamental brother a look that clearly stated what he thought the difference was.

"Okay," the youngest named Michelangelo interrupted, looking between both of his arguing brothers. "Now you're both scaring me. We're gonna go to prison and you can't agree on a story?"

"Prison?" Leo exclaimed. "You're actually worried about prison, when the worst thing that can happen is our dissection?" Turning to the other two turtles, he said, "Mikey's right though. This is scaring me. We just killed a man – an innocent man – for…for what exactly, I don't even know! I want to hear what you guys plan on telling Master Splinter when he gets here."

"You mean you want our stories straight," Raph stated.

"I just want to hear what you saw today," Leo amended. "In your own words."

"I don't think I feel comfortable with that," Donnie mentioned, a discouraged look on his face.

"Prison, Donnie," Mikey stressed, leading the others into the kitchen so they could sit around the table. Well, so the others could sit, Mikey wanted a snack. "Your cellmate's name is gonna be Big Bob. He's gonna like lifting weights. A lot."

"Think about Big Bob," Leo said, taking a seat at the table. "But this time as the scientist who's dissecting you."

Donnie sighed, knowing that he was obviously outnumbered here. "Alright," he said, taking a deep breath.

"From the beginning."

"The very beginning?" the brainy turtle asked, to which his elder brother nodded. "This morning started normally. Master Splinter had gone over to April's for an all day soap marathon, so he had given us a free day. Mikey was in the kitchen making breakfast, Raph was watching TV, you, Leo, were training, of course. I was in my room…"