Dis be da disclaimah! I do not own TMNT. I also do not own the song, which is "Six Ways 'Til Sunday" by Rise Against.
I never thought my first songfic would be TMNT. Then again, I never thought my first TMNT fic would be from April's POV. But the veiwpoint of the song most fit from April's mind. Well. My version of April at least.
For the first time in what felt like years, April's footsteps led her toward the "abandoned" building that stood on the less-used streets of New York. Naturally, she cursed herself every step. Yet, there was nowhere else she could go and be put at ease. It was a very strange emotional state to be in.
She knew what awaited her underground. And dreaded it. It was cold down there...and degrees Fahrenheit had nothing to do with it. But there was Splinter. There was the only hope she had left to shut up her worrying mind. If anyone could give her even a small amount of peace, it was the rat sensei. Of course, she never for a moment claimed to think that she could be calmed completely. Not until he was back.
But at least…maybe she'd find some comfort down there in the depths. No matter how small—at least it would be something happening. Anything was better than the suspended tension that every day gnawed at the back of her mind. Even if all she found was lower spirits even than hers…at least then she'd know. She could bear waiting in the dark no longer. If it was anything at all…she had to know something.
The elevator was up when April slipped into the old garage. She pressed her back against the door she'd entered through, sliding the lock closed over her shoulder. Closed her eyes. Breathed. Time to get it over with. Absently annoyed, she wished those bats flapping around in her stomach would freakin settle down.
She approached the doors to the strange elevator. She didn't pause like she wanted to. If she slowed even in the slightest, she'd be stuck there. Stuck forever standing between Battle Shell and that pile of junk in the corner they used to keep scrap metal. April heard an unwanted whimper escape her lips, but her feet strode undaunted beyond the threshold. The doors closed behind her. Her eyes closed with them. She felt herself being carried down. Down to the cold. Down among the dark tunnels she once could seem to love.
Years unfold in one moment.
The voices that we heard so loud
Are now suddenly silenced
Inside this crowd.
The elevator slowed, stopped, and the doors slid open. For a moment, she stood with her back turned, eyes closed, listening. What met her ears…it made her heart sink. She'd been afraid of this. The silence.
April turned around slowly, fisted hands trembling at her sides, to see a Lair completely empty of presence and sound. Crestfallen, she stepped forward slowly, a deer crossing a freeway. Any second, she'd meet a car…
You're surrounded by the lives
Of those who've found something to hold,
Mikey didn't have the TV turned on full blast. Raph's punching bag spun dejected, deserted, from its chain in the dojo. Donny wasn't welding or drilling on anything in his lab. The silence crowded in on her, like a million people swirling past. A million ghosts.
She felt like a stranger, trespassing in a foreign, empty place. She raised a nervous hand to push back a strand of her fiery amber hair, but she was shaking so much she only managed to free more stray locks from the loose ponytail. April forced herself to step forward, taking in another deep breath. She virtually ran through the place, trying to focus only on why she'd come, on finding Splinter. She had no clue where the others were. Really…she wasn't sure she could handle seeing only three brothers. Especially if they were all in one place. April hugged herself tightly as she passed by the boys' rooms, barely glancing at each closed door—
But no…one door was open. April felt her throat constricting; she knew whose door that was. Somehow, it couldn't be anyone else's. She willed herself not to, but her feet wouldn't listen, and she found herself approaching the one door that was slightly ajar.
So bringing everybody down
Is all you know.
Inside, it was dim and cool. April stepped forward, eyes widening, feeling lost and pressed in. Old Blue…his room had obviously not been entered since he left. Two months' worth of dust covered every available surface. Led by the dim light trickling in from the crack in the doorway, April stepped out into the deserted room. It was stepping off a cliff.
Her eyes soaked in every detail, looking over each piece of furniture, each wall hanging, each object she passed. The closest article was a small weapon rack. It held several swords he rarely wielded. The honored top spot held the blade he'd gotten from Usagi, back during that bright and happy Christmas… They were a family then. April trailed her fingers along the sheath and remembered the way he was. He was gentle that day. He was kind. Loving. No trace of anger…no determination…no…
You've been hiding so long you can't find yourself.
In this shelter of lies you live.
The smile that had been creeping its way onto her face was chased away. And the Leo from Christmas, from her mind he was chased away by…New Leo. The memories collapsed, fell away in fragments to the abyss below. The way it used to be…it couldn't stand against the way things were.
He did it to himself, you know. Unwittingly—but, still. It was cruelly ironic. To protect his family: that's all he wanted. It seemed a just cause. A good thing. April shook her head with a hollow laugh. You'd think so, wouldn't you? No. It fostered the guilt he felt for failing them. The thing to do would be to accept it, of course. That was what the good person should do. But something…wouldn't let him. Was it pride? Fear? He got angrier and angrier at himself. And anger, as we know, is known to spread.
You're claiming to be something different,
So wanting to believe
That you're better than the rest
To make up for your self-esteem.
She passed by the sword rack and turned her attention to whatever was next. There was a table littered with books, most of which were on topics like—no surprise here—meditation and energy. It was so unlike a teenager…he was only fifteen… His brothers, their rooms were littered with empty pizza boxes and movie collections and shelves full of entertainment. Leo clearly spent his free time on none of those things. He was too busy…bettering himself.
April's reaction would have surprised a more rational her. She was angry. Her brow furrowed in a sorrowful scowl. This was what he obsessed over. This was the source. April's hand had been resting on the cover of one book. She used it to shove the volume away, sliding across the table, as she pointedly strode on.
She came to his dresser and, suddenly, found herself leaning on it. Her arms folded on the surface and she lay down her forehead in the crook of her elbow. Tears had stopped her. What did he think he was doing? Did he even think at all anymore? Oh, but how gentle he used to be… Noble, not intense. Accepting, and not angry. Decisive, not...obsessive.
April suddenly felt the urge to shout of aggravation, but her sobs choked it into a broken, anguished growl. She cried bitterly, scowling into her arm, and tried to imagine how it was even possible. How could that version of him ever have existed? He wasn't even the same person.
April managed to lift her head. A flash of color caught the corner of her eye, laying on the dresser inches from her hand. Her eyes opened wide. Even her crying quieted. She slowly unfolded her arms, fingers delicately lifting the scrap of cloth.
Leo's headband.
April put one hand to her mouth, trying to stop herself from sobbing. She locked sight with the two hollow eyes, and her gaze burned accusing. How could he not realize how far he was falling? He was torturing his family and he was tearing his freinds apart. How couldn't he see himself!
Her tortured voice came as barely a whisper. "H…how can you…Where are you?"
Don't you hear your own voice scream?
You've left me no choice but to choose.
She knew where he was. He was gone. This new intense torrent of obsessive anger had destroyed the noble soul it was born of.
I miss the person that you were,
April's fist slowly clenched on the headband. Her knuckles turned white with the pressure. Their Old Blue…
Old Leo was gone.
But I don't miss you.
New Leo had killed him.
April released a shriek, flinging the headband to the ground. She stomped on it, ground it into the concrete, stomped again and again and snarled with every desperate, tormented stamp of her foot. Soon enough, her growls became sobs. Her movements slowed. She bared her teeth as the tears rolled. She gave in, arms going limp at her sides, feet now still. She was drained of anger. There was only sorrow. Backpedaling, she stumbled blindly until the back of her knees bumped into something and buckled. She fell onto Leo's bed and collapsed sidelong, surrendering to the tears. She buried her face in his pillow and knew nothing but the tears.
It was a long time before the figure appeared in the doorway. He stood for a moment, staring at the bed. April didn't notice that anyone was there; she kept right on crying, except now her tears came gently and quietly. The silhouetted figure stepped forward, crossing the room without a word. A gravelly exhale came from him; not quite a sigh.
April felt cool, three-fingered hands gently placed on her shoulders. She didn't open her eyes or react, other than to cooperate when the hands lifted her into a sitting position. She felt someone's chest—a hard-plated chest: a plastron. She could only lean her head against it desperately. The arms lifted her from the bed, bridal style, and they moved away. Out of the room. She cringed against him, clinging to her comforter. She didn't know who it was, but... Heck. She'd found what she was looking for, huh?
"What's up, Ape." A familiar voice came softly. Or at least, as softly as it was possible for the speaker. Raphael wasn't that good at gentle.
She didn't answer, but he hadn't expected her to. She was crying and all. "I'll take you ta Casey if ya wan' me to. Ya wan' me to?" After a moment, he felt her head dip in a nod. Raph nodded himself and gently lowered her feet to the ground. There was a moment of awkward indecision, while she stood there and covered her face with her hands. By grinding his teeth, Raph was barely able to resist the urge to growl.
Finally, he had to act. Anger failed here. This was April; of course he had to feel sorry for her. Just his luck.
Raphael put an arm around her shoulders and led her back to the elevator.
You're the new revolution,
The angst-filled adolescent.
You fit the stereotype well.
He dropped her off at Casey's place and knew she was in good hands. By then she'd stopped crying. But the moment he saw her, Casey knew enough to take her in his arms and hold her, protect her, let her rest.
Raph left them alone and came straight back to the Lair. He passed the dojo without even glancing at his punching bag. He passed his brothers' rooms, trying not to let either of them hear him. But they were holed up inside themselves, brooding… A small and ignored part of him felt sorry for them. Gentle endearing Donny, bright old mischievous Mikey, both now so quiet and… They weren't the way they were supposed to be. But none of them were.
He guessed he didn't help stuff much, being all...angry. But hey—they had their ways, he had his. They didn't like it, they could just stay away. He wouldn't want to force them to put up with someone as stubborn, as stupid, as hotheaded as himself. Raphael scowled bitterly, swimming in the hot venom that swirled within his biting and sarcastic thoughts. He liked it here, secure in his pool of hot, angry sorrow. To wallow in it...that's all he knew to do.
How could he help that? It wasn't his fault! They all knew whose fault it was.
All of em. Just stay away…
Raph stopped at his room, fully intending to go in and try to get some sleep. He really was. But…Leo's door was still open.
Years unfold in one moment
The voices that we heard so loud
Are now suddenly silenced
Inside this crowd
He stood a statue, a black silhouette. A shadow darkening the doorway. Stony face devoid of anything, he came into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. A stream of cold light still cut across the floor from underneath, so he could see enough to walk.
"What, Leo." His voice rasped wearily into the silence.
"What're ya doin to us?" No answer came from across the miles. But he...he needed a sound. He needed a voice too far away...
When morning came, Raphael was lost in a dreamless, fightless sleep. He lay facedown on Leo's bed. A blue headband, tattered by April's wrathful heels, trailed from his loose fist.
I miss the person that you were…