It's a bad day, a day when her shell feels too heavy and her plastron too tight, when every breath scrapes her insides (not yours, never yours) like a knife, like a sword in the dark. Jenny curls up in her bed, eyes squeezed shut, fingers dug into the blankets as she tries to keep from shaking apart.
Everything's red inside her head right now, red and black and sickening green. Karai's voice curls in her ears like her father's growl, like Splinter's dying gasp, like her own voice screaming out of irreparably altered vocal cords. Her ghosts tug at her ankles and whisper you've already joined us, you're already like us. 
She shivers. It's part cold blood, part something else, death and mutagen winding their interlocked fingers through her body and pulling her towards the edge. It's the kind of cold that lashes out in icy shards whenever anyone opens the door, then sinks low and heavy in her gut to freeze her instead.
The others try to help, they do, but they don't understand-- the guys only have blurry memories of being human, after all. Mona would help, maybe, or Sheena, but they're not here, and her dumb fat fingers aren't working well enough to activate the phone.
Besides, there are only so many people Jenny can stand seeing her like this, so weak, and as much as she hates it, they aren't on the list. And she knows that as painful as their transformations were, none of them came with steel and blood, none of them were quite so close to death as she was. She's too scared to try putting that into words.
So, here she is, lying on her bed, taking tight, shallow breaths, trying to breathe around the memory of knives in her flesh and strange blood weighing down her veins. She's got a Misfit track playing, something heavy enough and dark enough to scare the feeling away with emo irony, maybe, or at least drown out the ringing in her ears.
It's why she doesn't hear the rattle of picks in what she's pretty sure was a locked door, or the rustle of it sliding open. She doesn't feel any of the little shifts or changes in the air that ninja are supposed to use to tell when someone is entreating the room, doesn't feel anything right up until the faint creak of a bed under somebody's weight.
"Jenny?" someone whispers. Jenny twitches at the sound, pressing her face against the pillow. The voice is deeper, but she still attaches the face of Lita's younger self to it, a kid who shouldn't have to see or deal with any of this, who wouldn't if Jenny could just keep her shit together.
"Don't--" she mumbles, shaking her head so that her cheek rustles against the pillow. "Don't, I don't--"
"It's all right," Lita says, voice soft. "It's all right, Jenny, it's okay." Her fingers brush against Jenny's scales and Jenny cringes at the touch, pushing back against the bed.
"You used to do this all the time when I was growing up," Lita murmurs. "Lock yourself away, bury yourself in your room, yell whenever any of the others try to comfort you. And I never understood why." Her voice cracks, shaking with old pain. "I wanted to know why. I wanted to know how to make it better."
Tears roll down Jenny's cheeks as she presses against the bed, wishing she could become one with the sheets and disappear. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry, I couldn't--"
"Hush, it's okay," Lita murmurs, brushing a hand over Jenny's face like a mother soothing a feverish child. "It's all right. I know what to do, now. I know how to help you."
And then her lips press against Jenny's scales, a shocking spot of warmth in the midst of so much cold. Lita drags her tongue along Jenny's neck as if savoring it, worshiping her impossibility. She hums low in her throat, the sound buzzing over Jenny's skin like a prelude of lightning.
"Lita," she whispers. "Lita, we can't--it's the middle of the day--"
"Then we'll just have to be careful, won't we?" Lita straddles her in one easy move and Jenny whimpers, hands fisting awkwardly against Lita's chest. She can see Lita's grin flashing the dark, a light cutting through all the reds and shadows.
"It's not..." She doesn't know what to say, words stumbling on and off her tongue like drunks. The ringing in her ears has started to die, but the music swells, pushing against her ears the same way Lita's hands slowly, carefully push against Jenny's inhuman flesh.
"I figured it out," Lita says softly. "You--you can't be alone, you've done that for too long. But just huddling and cuddling isn't enough, it'll just make it worse, being so aware of yourself." She kisses the side of Jenny's neck, drags her mouth along the curve of Jenny's shoulder.
"You need something more active," she whispers, kissing across Jenny's plastron, her hips. Every part of Jenny's body that she touches flares with energy, as if transformed, weights of past fear and present wrongness sloughing off in the face of the future's onslaught.
She moans, unable to help herself, even if it sounds more like a sob. Lita kisses along her face, licking her tears away, lapping at the corners of Jenny's eyes and mouth as Jenny's mouth shudders and squirms.
"This body isn't your tomb," Lita whispers. "You're not dead, you have to remember that. You're more alive than you've ever been." She kisses Jenny and Jenny moans into her mouth, reaching up almost automatically to cling on Lita's shell.
She can still feel Karai's blade, heavy in her stomach, but Lita kisses over it, savoring Jenny's scars with her lips and teeth and tongues, with her voice whispering soft love and praise in Jenny's ear. It's too much, it's no good for her or Lita, and Jenny needs it, whines and chirps spilling shamelessly out of her mouth.
Jenny kisses along her hips, her thighs, pushing Lita's legs apart as she makes her way from outer to inner. Heart blooms at her touch, quickening to a fire that sends all the shadows writhing and dancing. There's really nothing Jenny can do, but spread her legs painfully wide, quivering all over with desperation.
"I'm going to spell your name into your cunt," Lita whispers between Jenny's thighs. The heat and spit and terrible vibrations of her voice bubbles up through Jenny's cunt, a wave washing her insides clean. Even the sensitive shudder of her tail in response doesn't feel frightening the way it normally does.
She's burning on the inside out, and her head still doesn't feel like her own, but it doesn't feel like it belongs to the monsters anymore. It feels like it belongs to Lita, now, every fractured neuron of it gathered in her hands as they slide reverently along Jenny's scales.
"Then I'm going to do it, again," a warm, hungry kiss to her cunt, "and again, and again," more kisses, more little laps and sucks and maybe even something that could be a bite, "until that's all you know, that's all you are." Fuck, it feels like she's speaking inside Jenny, now. "Until there's no room left for anything else."
Jenny sucks in a breath, heart hammering painfully in her chest. There are a million reasonable things she could say right now, but there's only one that doesn't leave drowning alone in the dark from now until what feels like forever.
"Please," she whispers, voice shaking so much it hurts. "Lita, please." 
Lita just smiles, and Jenny can fucking feel it in her godsdamn cunt. Then she's surging forward, and Jenny cries out as the bed creaks, the music roars, and a fire sparks to set her alight.