Taking up the gauntlet: To accept a challenge
Taking Up the Gauntlet
When April entered the sewer lair, she found Splinter meditating on the couch in the common room. At the sound of her footsteps he turned and looked up at her as she stood at the top of the stairs. A long, uncomfortable silence filled the room. The soft beeping and chirping of the arcade games only made the silence even louder. There were many questions Splinter wanted to ask her. He wanted to know what happened with the pigeon man, why she had come back alone, where his sons were and what they were doing, and so on. But from her dismal demeanor, her slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, he sensed that those questions would have to wait.
His furry white brows drew together in concern. "You seem tired."
She nodded her head listlessly, eyes focused on the space of floor between her feet.
Picking up his walking stick, he rose from the couch. "Come with me." He turned and walked toward the kitchen.
April trudged after him, each footstep heavier than the last. When she reached the counter she used what little energy she had left to hoist herself onto a stool. Then she folded her arms on the counter top and slumped down heavily against it. Meanwhile, Splinter calmly opened one of the cupboards and took out two ceramic mugs and a box of tea bags. Then he took the tea kettle that was sitting on the stove and filled it with water from the sink. He placed the full kettle back on the stove and switched on the burner. Then he seated himself on a stool directly across from April and folded his hands on the counter.
For several minutes they both sat in silence. Splinter watched as April kept her eyes glued to the counter. She could feel him watching her, could see his four-fingered hands folded across from her, but she didn't dare look at his face. Even though he was a mutant rat, she knew she would see her father's face the minute she looked at him. She knew he would smile at her the way he always did when she had a particularly bad day at school, say something to comfort her, maybe even tell her some funny story about his day to cheer her up. And then she would lose it. She would lose control of the emotions she was fighting so hard to keep in check.
Splinter, of course, could already sense her emotions. He was a ninja master with a highly trained sense of intuition. Plus, he had raised four teenage sons and so had plenty of experience dealing with each of their unique temperaments and adolescent mood swings. Sometimes they would come to him for advice, other times they needed to be left alone. Sometimes sparring helped, other times talking was better, and other times silence was best. Over the past few months, he had gotten to know April well enough to understand her temperament. She was a very stubborn, determined, independent girl, and did not like asking for help. If he waited for her to speak first, she would say nothing at all. So he needed to say something first, something that would bring her out of her shell.
In a tone that was both commanding and compassionate, he spoke. "Tell me what happened."
A lump formed in April's throat and her eyes stung. Her head sank down even further, her face hidden by red bangs.
"We…" she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "We found the pigeon man. He had a message from my dad. He took us where the Kraang were holding him. The guys had me wait on the roof with the rope."
Splinter watched quietly as her hands clenched into trembling fists. He frowned slightly, but said nothing. The kettle on the stove made bubbling noises.
"They came back with him after a while." she went on. "I dropped the rope for him to climb out, but…but there were too many Kraang. And then…my dad…he grabbed one of their guns and started shooting. He kept shooting until the guys climbed out. And then the Kraang…they took him away."
The kettle bubbled on. Splinter remained silent. April clenched her fists until her nails cut her palms. Then, with a cry of outrage, she pounded the countertop. She looked up at him, blue eyes flashing with outrage. "Why? Why did he have to do that? He was so close, I could see him right there under me! It took months to find him. Months! And tonight, when I finally found him, he stayed behind! He stayed there like a stupid, heroic idiot just so we could escape and stop some giant mutagen time bomb thing from going off!"
She pounded her fists again, so hard that her hands ached. The pain seemed to suck the anger out of her, filling her with grief again. Her eyes stung harder than before, but she still refused to cry. This time when she looked at Splinter, her eyes were wet with tears. Her voice trembled. "Why? Why did they have to take him? Out of all the scientists in the city, why did they have to take him?"
Throughout her outburst, Splinter had watched and listened to her with a completely straight face, taking in the details of her story and allowing her to vent her anger. But now that her anger was spent, she was left with nothing but emptiness. She no longer looked like a strong, independent teenager. She was just a scared little girl who wanted her father back.
Just then, the tea kettle let out a shrill whistle, jolting both of them from their thoughts. Splinter stood, turned off the stove and poured the boiling water into the two mugs. He brought them to the counter, placing one in front of April and keeping the other. Breathing in the warm steam rising from his cup, he tried to collect his thoughts. Her words echoed in his mind with a disturbing familiarity. Many years ago, he had suffered a loss very similar to hers. He had asked himself "Why" every day, over and over, until the word lost all meaning. Taking a sip of hot tea, he prepared himself to say what she needed to hear.
"April," he began, more compassionate than commanding this time. "Your father wanted you to protect you. What he did was very brave. He gave up his chance at freedom for your sake."
Her shoulders sagged as she stared into her mug. "I know that…But it's still not fair. I just…I just want him back."
Splinter watched her thoughtfully, his heart twisting in his chest. He had to say more. April was part of his family now, and so it was his duty to help her. He had listened to her when she needed him to. Now she needed him to do what her own father could not, to assure her that everything would be all right. There was only one thing he could say that knew for certain would have that kind of effect. He had never told it to anyone besides his sons before, but he would make an exception for her.
"April," he began. "Have my sons told you about a man called the Shredder?"
April looked up at him, confused. "Um…He's the guy Bradford and Xever work for."
"Did they tell you anything else?"
She thought for a moment. "I think they said he was your old nemesis or something. Why?"
Splinter squared his shoulders and steeled himself. Now was the time. "We were not always enemies. Many years ago, when I was still human, the Shredder was my friend. But the love of a woman came between us, a woman named Tang Shen. In time, she became my wife and the mother of my child, Miwa." A hint of sorrow came into his voice. "Shredder could not accept this, and our rivalry festered into hatred, until one day he tried to take my life. But instead, it was the lives of my family that were lost."
April stared at Splinter after he finished his story, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He was holding his mug between both hands, looking down at it with a solemn expression. His furry, pointed ears hung down and his normally straight posture was noticeably slumped. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed so steady and composed all the time that it never occurred to her that he might be burdened with such tragic memories.
Not knowing what to say, April looked down at her mug for a moment. "That's awful." she said at last. "But… why did you want to tell me that?"
Splinter looked at her in silence for a moment. Then he sighed. April was a smart girl, but she was slow to understand his style of communication. She liked things to be straightforward, and if he didn't get to the point soon enough she would miss it completely. Straightening up, he fixed her with a very firm, steady gaze.
"I understand how you must feel, April." Splinter said firmly. "Both of us have lost family. It is a sad, confusing, painful experience. My wife and daughter are gone forever, and it has taken me years to make peace with it. But your father is still alive, and you know it. There is still hope for you to get him back."
She looked back down at her mug. "I don't know… I tried getting him back tonight, and it didn't work."
"There will be other chances. The Kraang are still at large, and your father is still with them. He is a prisoner, but they need him and will not harm him. Moreover, you are not alone in this fight. My sons and I are on your side. We will not give up this fight, and neither should you."
She looked up at him again. The steady, composed ninja master was back, but there were still traces of a concerned father in his eyes. It wasn't exactly the same way her father used to look at her, but it still felt comforting somehow. The heavy burden she felt hadn't gone away, but it felt a bit lighter than before. Feeling some of her strength returning, she tightened her grip on her mug and looked up at Splinter, blue eyes filled with a mixture of faint hope and determination.
"Okay." she said, as firmly as she could manage. "I won't give up."
Splinter nodded his head, quietly relieved by her response. He picked up his mug and took a sip of warm tea. When he put it back down, there was a small smile on his face. "Now, what were you saying before about a time bomb?"
April sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes went wide. She'd nearly forgotten about that. "Oh! Right! Donnie found out that the Kraang set up a giant time bomb on top of the Wolf Hotel downtown. He said it would disperse mutagen over half the city if they didn't stop it in time. So they went off to defuse it and sent me back here to tell you they'd be home late."
He took another sip of tea. "Hmm. I thought it was something like that."
She blinked, confused by his apparent lack of concern. "That's it? You're not worried about them?"
"They are my sons." Splinter said calmly. "I am always worried about them. But to worry about things beyond our control accomplishes nothing. For now, we can only wait and hope for the best. Now drink your tea before it gets cold."
April sighed in frustration. She still didn't understand Splinter's philosophical perspectives on life, but he was right. So she obediently took a sip of her tea and tried to let it calm her down. It didn't help as much as she needed it to. The image of Kraang droids taking her father away still haunted her thoughts.
"Master Splinter?" she said. "Can I stay here a little longer? I want to be here when the guys get back, so we can talk about what to do next."
Splinter sensed that this wasn't the only reason April wanted to stay. He knew her too well. She didn't just want to make a new plan to track down the Kraang and rescue her father. She wanted to be where she felt safe, where she could talk about the crazy things that happened to her, where she had friends who would listen to her and believe those crazy things were true. She wanted a home and a family. Who was he to deny her such important things?
With another small smile, he nodded. "Yes, April. You may stay here for as long as you like."
For the next few hours, April and Splinter waited for the turtles to come home. They spent most of that time watching the news on TV. Normally when his sons were out on a mission, Splinter would meditate in the training hall to keep his mind from worrying too much. But this time he was not alone. April was here, and she needed him more than anyone else now. So he let her sit closer to him than usual. She was clutching a pillow with her knees pressed to her chest. Then, during a commercial for Antonio's Pizza-Rama, he felt her head against his shoulder. He looked down and saw her face buried in the pillow, muffling the sound of her sobs.
Again his heart twisted in his chest and he was transported to the past. How many nights had Miwa woken up crying from a nightmare? How many nights had his adopted sons come to his bed as toddlers, sometimes all four of them at once? He wrapped one arm around April's shoulders and held her securely against his side. "There, there." he whispered, gently stroking her hair with his other hand. "It's all right. You're safe. I'm here. Everything will be all right."
Her small body shook with more sobs. She had tried so hard to be strong and hold her tears back, but now they just wouldn't stop. And with Splinter holding her and talking to her this way, it took her back to all the times her father had done the same for her. When she skinned her knee on the playground, when she fell off her bike and bruised her head after taking off the training wheels, when her pet rat Templeton died of old age, her father was always there to hold her and let her cry until her tears ran out.
"S-sorry…" she said between sobs, her voiced muffled by the pillow. "I'm sorry… I'm acting l-like such a b-baby…"
Splinter rested his hand on top of her head. "Hush. You have every right to cry. There is no one here to see you but me."
She sniffled and turned her head to look up at him. Her eyes were moist and rimmed with red. "D-don't t-tell the g-guys about this, okay?"
He wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "You have my word."
With that, April laid her head against Splinter's shoulder and let the tears flow. When they eventually stopped, she pulled herself up and rubbed her wet face against her sleeve. He kept a firm hand on her shoulder and watched her closely, just in case she still needed him to steady her. Though her eyes were still red, she was able to show him a brave smile, the first one he'd seen from her all night.
She was about to thank him when he suddenly sat straight up, ears standing on end. He heard four sets of footsteps in the tunnel leading to the lair's entrance. Then he frowned. The footsteps were slow and weary, accompanied by heavy breathing and moans of pain.
April watched him as he sat there listening, growing concerned. "What's wrong?"
"They are back." he said. "And they are hurt. Badly."
Both of them stood up and turned to face the entrance. Four very tired, very injured mutant turtles appeared, practically dragging themselves into the lair. Splinter's eyes widened and April gasped aloud. Neither of them had seen the turtles wounded this badly before. There were many cuts and large bruises on their faces, arms and legs and deep gashes on their shells. When they looked at their master and their friend staring at them in shock, their already anguished expressions turned to utter humiliation.
"What happened?" Splinter asked, more loudly than he intended.
Leonardo took the lead and answered the question. "The Shredder happened."
Splinter felt his blood turn to ice. He exchanged a silent look with April. Then he looked back at his sons, brows furrowed and eyes narrowing into hard slits. "Leonardo." he said, his voice more commanding than ever. "Meet me in the training hall. Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, wait here with April."
The turtles all bowed their heads in tired unison. Leonardo followed Splinter to the training hall, leaving his brothers in the common room with April. As soon as the two of them were out of sight, April turned to the three remaining turtles.
"The Shredder?" she said. "I thought you guys were just going to defuse the Kraang's bomb!"
Michelangelo groaned. "Yeah, we thought so, too." He trudged past her into the common room, where he collapsed backward on the bean bag chair, wincing in pain upon impact. "Ow…"
Frowning, April put her fists on her hips. "Then what was the Shredder doing there?"
"Trying to kill us." Raphael muttered bitterly. He stomped over to the Atomic Robo-X game machine and thumped his back against it. "Same thing Bradford and Xever were doing earlier." he added, folding his arms and scowling darkly.
"Wait, Bradford and Xever were there, too?" Panic tightening in her chest, April jerked her head around to face Donatello, the only turtle who still hadn't spoken yet. "What the heck is going on?"
With a heavy sigh, Donatello lifted his hands wearily and placed them on her shoulders. "Calm down, April. I can explain everything. Just let me sit down first, okay?"
Still very worried, she stepped out of his way as he staggered toward the pit and stiffly lowered himself down on the couch. With his back turned toward her, she could see even more nasty gashes on his shell. Her heart jumped into her throat. The last time she'd seen him with wounds like that was from the time a mutant monkey had brutally beaten him in front of her. But this time he had more cuts. A lot more cuts. She moved to join him on the couch, but decided against it. Instead she sat down by the edge of the pit, slightly behind him and to his right. She pulled her knees to her chest and watched him with anxious eyes, waiting for him to tell her what she wanted to know.
Leaning back against the cushions, Donatello glanced over his shoulder to look at her and felt his stomach sink to the floor. Guilt had been gnawing at his insides ever since the mission to rescue April's father ended in failure. He had promised her months ago to help get him back, and when they finally got their chance, it all slipped through their fingers. She'd been so overwhelmed over this second loss that she'd flung herself against his chest on the verge of tears. He could do nothing except hold her and promise to get her father back, even though he was no longer sure he could keep that promise. After they'd parted ways, he'd managed to push his feelings aside to focus on the task at hand. But now that they were together again, that gnawing guilt was back. As if the terrifying battle with the Shredder wasn't depressing him enough.
He turned his eyes away from hers and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. It was easier to think when he was looking at the floor instead of at her. "Everything started out fine." he began. "We got to the Wolf Hotel and took out all the Kraang droids with trick arrows. Then we ran into our first problem. The alien tech in that bomb was so complex that I couldn't figure it out right away, and it was set to blow in less than five minutes. Then problem number two came along."
"Bradford and Xever." Raphael grumbled from behind them. "They decided to drop in and pick a fight just when it was the least convenient for us."
Donatello was too tired to even feel annoyed by his brother interrupting him. "Yeah. So while Leo, Raph and Mikey were fighting those guys, I was running out of time to defuse the bomb. I finally narrowed it down to one of two wires, black or green."
"And I said go for the green." Michelangelo chimed in tiredly. He was still sprawled over the bean bag chair, but he had now rolled over on his stomach.
"And it actually worked, believe it or not." Donatello said. "So with the bomb defused, I joined the fight and we managed to turn the tables on Bradford and Xever. We cornered them at the edge of this giant tank of mutagen, but Bradford refused to surrender and broke the tank. He and Xever got washed off the building with the ooze. Shredder showed up right after that." His shoulders sagged. "Long story short, he mopped the floor with us."
"You left out the part where Bradford and Xever turned into mutants." Michelangelo said.
"Not now, Mikey." Raphael growled.
"No, he's right." Donatello said. "They showed up again just when Shredder was about to finish us off. That distracted him long enough for us to get away." He glanced in April's direction, still not daring to look her in the eye. "That's the whole story."
April just sat there staring at the back of his head for a moment. Then she turned her gaze to her feet and clutched her knees to her chest. First the disaster with the Kraang had happened, and now this. Sure, the city was safe, but their team was not. Their list of enemies just kept on growing, each one stronger than the last. But the Shredder was definitely at the top of that list. If one man could do this much damage to all four turtles, there was no telling what else he could do.
It all added up to one thing. The Kraang were no longer their most dangerous enemy. That meant the search for her father could no longer be the team's top priority. And that meant her already low chances at finding him again were lower than ever. The instant that thought came to her mind, it drove out any hope she'd begun to feel from talking with Splinter earlier, leaving her with an empty void in her heart once again.
Soon Leonardo emerged from the training hall. He stood with one hand against the doorway, looking out at his melancholy, wounded brothers through his dirty mask. He had just finished telling Splinter the same story Donatello had told April. As the team leader, he felt personally responsible for tonight's devastating loss. Even Michelangelo, the wide-eyed optimist of the group who somehow managed to find a bright side to any bad situation, was reduced to a sullen, battle-scarred mess.
Donatello made eye contact with Leonardo, and for a moment the two brothers sensed each other's shame. Then he turned his head toward April. Leonardo saw her resting her chin on her knees, just before she hid her face against her arms with a sigh of despair. Raphael was still fuming against the game machine. With an angry grunt, he whirled around suddenly and shoved it hard with both hands, sending it sliding nearly a foot to the side. Then he sat down on the floor, wrapped his arms around his knees and glowered at nothing in particular.
Leonard sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. This was all his fault. If he had been less careless, if he had planned things better, then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe they could have saved April's dad, disarmed the bomb, and gotten away without even seeing Shredder or his thugs. Maybe they could have come home in triumph, eaten pizza together, and make Splinter proud. But everything had gone wrong, and now everyone was suffering for it. Some hero he was turning out to be.
Splinter then emerged from the training hall and stood slightly behind Leonardo. "You were all very lucky." he said, addressing the group.
Raphael turned his glowering face toward him. "Well, I think we define that word differently, sensei."
Splinter replied unfazed. "Few have ever faced the Shredder and survived."
Michelangelo lifted his head from the bean bag chair. "He was just so fast."
"It was like he was everywhere at once." Donatello added.
Leonardo looked up at his master sadly. "You were right about us being overconfident, sensei." He lowered his head and stared down at the floor again. "There are some things we're just not ready for."
Splinter laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "Perhaps, but that no longer matters." He turned his attention back to the group. "It is clear now that the Shredder is a problem that will not go away. So prepare yourselves, my sons, because as of this moment we are at war."
April was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she barely heard anything Splinter said. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head and saw him standing over her, eyes filled with concern. "Come. We must tend to their injuries."
With a listless nod, April stood up and followed Splinter back to the kitchen. While he began preparing a batch of curative tea, he told her where the bandages and medical supplies were kept. Soon April returned to the common room with an emergency kit and several ice packs.
After handing out the ice packs to the turtles, she decided to clean Raphael's wounds first. She knew he would complain about it the most and wanted to get it over with. He was still sulking by the game machine when she knelt on the floor next to him. He paid no attention to her as she opened the kit, took out a bottle of antiseptic and poured some onto a cotton ball. Then she pressed the wet cotton ball against one of the open wounds on his right leg, and a blazing, stinging pain shot through his whole body.
Raphael's scream was so loud that it echoed off the walls of the lair several times. He jerked his leg away from April, pushing back against the wall like a cornered animal. "What the heck are you doing?!"
April rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood for this. "Quit whining. It's just a little antiseptic, not poison. Now hold still and be quiet."
He grudgingly lowered his leg. Frowning, she rubbed the wet cotton ball over his wound. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. She wasn't pushing that hard, but the liquid still stung. When she was finished, she took a bandage from the kit and started wrapping it around his leg. He watched her as she worked. She was still frowning hard and not making eye contact.
"Hey." His voice was low, but not quite a whisper. It wasn't angry, but it wasn't calm, either. "You, uh, you didn't feed Spike while I was gone, did you?"
She paused briefly as she thought about his question. "No, Raph, I didn't."
He grunted, hoping to mask his worry with mild indifference.
She fastened one corner of the bandage to his leg with an adhesive strip. "I'll feed him when I'm done with you guys." she muttered.
For a moment he said nothing. Then he shrugged and gave an appreciative-sounding grunt.
While April was busy tending to Raphael, Michelangelo watched her from his spot on the bean bag chair. When she had finished wrapping Raphael's leg and began cleaning the cuts on his chest, Michelangelo pulled himself to his feet. He climbed out of the pit and hesitantly shuffled toward her. When he was standing a few feet behind her, he cleared his throat.
"Um, April?" he said, clasping his hands behind his back and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "There's, uh, there's something I gotta tell you."
April lowered her hands from Raphael's wounds and looked up at Michelangelo. The younger turtle quickly looked down at the floor, squirming uncomfortably. She arched an eyebrow, confused. "What is it?"
He stood there squirming in silence for a while. Suddenly he dropped to his knees and wailed. "I did it! I did it, okay? It was me! It was my fault!"
April stared back at him, totally confused. "What are you talking about?"
Michelangelo was clawing at his skull now, as if trying to pull on hair he didn't have. "It's my fault we lost your dad! I'm the one who pushed the button! I didn't know it was an alarm! I didn't mean for all those droids to show up!"
Before she could say anything, he flung himself face down on the floor and clung to her waist, bawling loudly. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry! You can hit me if it makes you feel better!"
April had no idea how to respond to this. She tried to push him off her, but he was too strong. "Mikey, stop it!" she said, struggling to break out of his grip.
"Please!" he sobbed into her lap, soaking her legs with tears and snot. "Just hit me! I'm begging you! I deserve it!"
She tried to push him off with both hands, but it was no use. "No! I'm not hitting you! Get off!"
Just then Raphael piped up from behind her. "Now, now, April, don't hurt the poor guy's feelings. It's not every day Mikey begs people to hit him."
"I'm not doing it, Raph."
"Well, if you don't wanna get your hands dirty, I'm happy to do it for you."
April rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of… Fine. Get up, Mikey."
Michelangelo released her waist and sat up, sniffling and whimpering. After wiping his runny nose with the back of his fist, he pointed at his mouth. "Go on, right in the kisser. Gimme your best shot. I can take it." He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the punishment that was coming.
April raised her right hand and swung. Her palm slapped lightly against Michelangelo's cheek. He waited for something else to happen. Then he opened one eye. She was just sitting there with her arms folded. Opening both eyes, he stared at her in confusion. "That's it? But…I thought you were mad at me."
She shook her head and sighed. He just looked so pathetic. "Look, Mikey. I'm mad about a lot of things right now, but I'm not mad at you. Blaming you and hitting you aren't gonna make me feel better." She smiled at him weakly. "So cheer up, okay?"
Michelangelo's eyes welled up with fresh tears and his lower lip quivered. Then, with another wail, he flung his arms around her again, this time around her shoulders in a hug. "I'm so glad we're friends, April! I promise I'll make it up to you! You can borrow all my comic books, and I'll let you win the next time we play video games!"
This time April let him hold her as he cried, letting him soak her shirt with his inelegant blubbering. She patted the back of his shell, gently so not to hurt his wounds. "Thanks, Mikey. You're a good friend."
Raphael just rolled his eyes to the ceiling and groaned. "You should've let me hit him."
Splinter came out of the kitchen then, carrying a tray with four steaming mugs of tea. He arched one furry brow at the sight of Michelangelo sobbing on April's shoulder and Raphael rolling his eyes at them. He felt somewhat relieved by this. It was good to see two of his sons acting like themselves again, and April appeared to be feeling better as well.
That only left Leonardo and Donatello. He saw them sitting in the corner of the pit. They were huddled together, conversing in hushed tones that were drowned out by Michelangelo's bawling. Suddenly Donatello stood up and began talking very loudly. "No! That's a terrible idea! Why would you even think that?"
Leonardo also stood up, his face calm and serious. "April's not safe with us anymore. We have to think of what's best for her."
"How do you know what's best for her?" Donatello retorted, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. "She's our friend, Leo! She needs us! We promised we'd help her!"
"That was before Shredder came along." Leonardo gestured at their injuries. "Look what he did to us tonight. Do you want her to end up like this?"
Donatello glared down at him and clenched his fists at his sides. "You don't know that'll happen."
Leonardo glared right back at his taller brother. "And what if it does? Face it, Donnie. The only way she'll be safe from Shredder is if she stops hanging out with us."
Splinter had heard enough. It was time to intervene. "If you really believe that, then you do not know April at all."
Both turtles looked up at their master in surprise. He was at the edge of the pit right behind them, still holding the tray of mugs. "But, sensei," Leonardo began. "The longer she stays with us, the more danger she's in."
Splinter raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "And she was not in danger in before?"
Leonardo frowned. "That's not what I mean. If Shredder finds out about April, there's no telling what he could do to her."
"But we can't just leave her!" Donatello cut in. "She's lost her dad twice now, and we're the only ones who can get him back."
"You are both right." Splinter said calmly. "Shredder is a very serious threat to us all, but we cannot turn April away. She needs us now more than ever. She has already lost her own family. If she loses us, she will have nothing left."
Leonardo's shoulders sagged in an odd mixture of guilt and relief. He felt bad about the idea of almost hurting April, and for once he was glad to hear Splinter tell him he was wrong. "Hai, sensei." He bowed his head respectfully, not showing the smile on his face.
Donatello, however, flashed a huge, gap-toothed grin that was almost blindingly bright. "So April can stay?"
Splinter smiled back at his son and nodded his head. "Yes. And you may both discuss the matter with her after you drink your tea."
Leonardo took one look at the tea and immediately became queasy. "Um, sensei? Can we not drink any tea this time?"
Splinter didn't budge. "No. This tea has potent healing properties, and healing is exactly what all of you need."
Donatello's face looked somewhat greener than before. "But it tastes terrible."
Splinter's orange eyes narrowed dangerously. "Drink."
Frightened, the two turtles each took a mug and began to drink, sputtering and coughing as they did so. Satisfied, Splinter turned to take the remaining mugs of tea to his two other sons. Michelangelo was still fussing and whining, but Raphael had pinned him down so April could finish cleaning his wounds.
It would take time to heal these scars. Not just the physical ones, but the mental and spiritual ones as well. There would surely be more battles like this in the future. Now that Shredder had challenged their family, they had no choice but to accept. He only hoped he was strong enough to prepare them for it.
The End