"That was SO not a win—you cheated by getting April to distract me, dude! Best seven out of ten!"

Michelangelo's shouting voice was the first Raphael heard as he returned to the den from the shop for dinner. Raph craned his neck to look at the arcade consoles, and found his little brother and his best friend, Casey Jones, playing Mortal Kombat rather ferociously and, like the large children they were, fighting about the winner of the last match. He chuckled.

"Aw, how cute. That brain transplant you got finally put you equal to Mikey's maturity level, Casey."

Casey whirled, his hands still on the joystick and the A-button. "Hey, freak-face! How's the shop this lovely evening?"

Raph grunted and went towards his notebook; he was slightly disturbed to find Leo smiling at him as though he knew something he didn't know from the kitchen table.

"It's… fine. You stayin' for dinner?"

"I dunno—hey, April, we stayin' for dinner?" Casey shouted towards Donnie's alcove.

April came out with Donatello behind her, his headset still on. He seemed to be on the line, further evidenced by the C++ handbook April had in her hands to help him with a difficult customer. She smiled broadly to see Raphael.

"Raph, there you are! I wanted to come up and get you, but Leo said you needed alone time with that bike of yours. Have the pair of you decided to tie the knot?" she teased, hugging him.

Raphael laughed. "I could get you back so much worse, considerin' you're goin' out with that over there." He gestured at Casey, who was coming up behind him; Mikey remained on Mortal Kombat, playing against the computer. "But I won't. What kinda pizza you guys want?"

Casey, very intelligently, gestured at April to make the decision for them, and went to sit at the kitchen table with Leo.

"He's wisin' up, I see," Raph commented, making April laugh.

"Please, Raph—as though you know any more about relationships than him. You probably get in lover's quarrels with your motorcycle more than they do," Leo smirked, making Raph punch his arm. "You want to share a Veggie Lovers with me?"

"Can we put pepperoni on it?" Raph asked, writing it down.

Leo rolled his eyes. "I think that defeats the point, but sure."

Donnie was pacing in the den, gesturing at April to keep up with him on the C++ manual. "Yes—no—well, I'd have to look up that particular protocol. Would you like to give me a call-back number so I can research this further? It sounds like your programmer mixed up the code on your primary platform…. Yes—thank you—you, too. I'll be sure to get back to you within the hour." He ripped off the headset and sighed. "Phew, what a nightmare. This guy's programmer must be some kind of mentally handicapped atavistic ape. Or else a seven-year-old." He smiled at April, then at Raph. "Thanks for the help. I miss having you around helping me crack codes and what-not. Taking pizza orders, little brother?"

Raph raised the notebook in response.

"I'll share a Wednesday with Mikey," Donnie decided. "Wednesday okay with you, Mikey?"

Michelangelo, distracted by the game, just waved a hand. "Yeah, sure, Wednesday's good."

"April?"

"A Meat Lover's. Casey's a growing boy—needs all the protein he can get for his trick-or-treating," she said with a combination of sweetness and nastiness that made Donatello grin and Raphael cough to cover up a laugh at his friend's expense.

Raph placed the order and threw himself into a chair. "So, to what do we turtles owe the pleasure, guys? Any occult antiques we should be worried about? Purple Dragons up to somethin'? Foot ninjas knockin' on your door and evangelizin'?"

Mikey bounded over. "Ooh, Foot ninjas? Where? I wanna kick some Foot ninja butt!"

Donnie, standing behind Leo's chair, clapped Mikey on the shoulder. "Relax, little brother—no butt-kicking just yet."

April sat down in the remaining chair, so they were now congregated around the table; their group of six made Splinter's absence all the more glaring; April and Casey were careful to say nothing of his nonattendance. April nervously put her hands together.

"Well, actually, we came to—well, this is so hard—it's just that"—

Casey tried to intervene for her. "Maybe I should, April… we came to tell you guys that she—I mean, I—I mean, we"—

Leonardo's annoying, ever-knowing smile got wider, as he sat there with his arms crossed. Donatello seemed to have gotten it, too, and his eyes got big.

"Oh my God…"

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" Mikey said, anxious and oblivious. Raphael sat very still, very silent, very tense, tight-lipped.

"Mikey, don't you see?" Donnie asked him, rhetorically; he too was grinning just as Leo was. Mikey, however, did not "see."

"No! Is it the Foot? Why won't someone just tell me what's goin' on?"

April had begun laughing, as had Casey, their nervousness vanishing.

"No, Mikey—it's not the Foot. Nothing's wrong! It's just that"—

"You're getting married," Raphael said, soberly. His arms were crossed, and he stood. Michelangelo looked shocked; his jaw dropped.

"What—no way! That's—whoa, that's even more dangerous than the Foot! This is gonna be fun, dudes!"

Casey's eyes were following Raphael. "Raph—somethin' wrong?"

Raph turned; he held his arms out wide. "No—I'm happy for you guys, don't get me wrong. I really am. I'm just… it's just that we can't be there. And neither can Splinter. He might not… he might not ever even know about it…" He blinked, avoiding their stares.

April stood, watching him with gentle eyes and a smile. "That's the other thing we wanted to tell you. We wanted… well, we wanted to have it down here. With all of you. We'd have a small ceremony at the court, of course. But the real thing would be here. If that was okay with you."

Mikey made a whooping sound. "Alright—pizza reception, dudes!"

Raphael shook his head firmly. "No. You… ya can't have your weddin' in the sewers. I mean, you should be married somewhere… beautiful, April… I mean, you wouldn't have bridesmaids or a flower girl, or a maid of honor. You couldn't have your family there…"

"You guys are my family. And you're the ones I want to be at my wedding," April said, equally as firm, yet still gentle. Raph could see, on the other side of her, Donnie had tears in his eyes, and Mikey had turned very serious, looking very moved. Leo continued to smile warmly, as though he had predicted this entire conversation beforehand.

Casey stood, and took a deep breath. "Look, Raph—this is important for us, especially because—well, you know… I wanted to ask you to be my best man."

Raphael—big, tough Raphael, who in his life had seen himself as many things, none of them being a best man, in a wedding—stilled at this, his eyes the size of saucers.

"M-me? But—me?"

Casey chuckled. "Well, yeah, man. You're kinda my best friend—and you're sorta my hero. As much as a giant turtle in a metal costume who hangs bad guys from telephone poles can be a guy's hero. And besides—I can count on you to give the most embarrassing toast, right?"

Raph swallowed, and found himself smiling involuntarily. His voice came out hoarse. "It'd be a serious honor. But I don't know if you should be lookin' forward to the toast that I would give—April's like my sister, man. I can use that opportunity to make my final threats."

Leo broke into laughter, and both Donnie and Mikey jumped into the air, shouting. April grinned and ran forward to hug Raphael, who froze before hesitantly hugging her back. She whispered in his ear.

"We'll wait until Splinter comes back—so don't worry yourself, okay? Everything will be fine. I'm just so glad we'll have you to help us."

Raph tightened his hug. "I'll do my best. This stuff isn't my strong suit."

Mikey came forward, pushing Donnie in front of him.

"Hey, babe—look what I found for you! It's a bridesmaid!"

April broke the hug, laughing. Raph reaching forward and grabbed Mikey by the shell.

"And look what else—a flower girl! Whaddaya know? They come in packs."

Donnie laughed, enjoying the revenge. "And Leo can be matron of honor!"

All three younger brothers laughed until Leonardo stood.

"Yeah, I'm sure we'd all look good in—what was the color again, April? Lilac? Periwinkle? It'd go great with the green skin, seeing as we're all Springs."

Casey was chuckling. "I think this is definitely a good indicator that we shouldn't bring alcohol to the reception, April—they're crazy enough as it is." He slapped Raphael's shell. "Maybe a flask of whiskey for Raph, though."

April looked offended. "Casey—he's sixteen!"

"Yeah, besides—Raph'd be the angriest drunk there ever was!" Mikey scoffed, making Leo and Donnie nearly cry with laughter. Such happiness was infectious.

Leo came forward and put an arm around Casey's shoulders. "Uh… I know it's your wedding and everything, but I'm gonna have to ask you not to get my little brothers drunk. They're hard enough to handle as it is."

Raph held up a mitigating hand. "Hey—I dealt with enough stupid boozers up in the city. I got no plans becomin' one of 'em, bro." He looked at April. "I promise we'll get you some kinda bridesmaid or flower girl—even if Donnie has to build you one, or we have to dress Mikey in a hula skirt."

April laughed. "That's okay, Raph—I'd rather not have to see that. Really. But if Mikey wants to come as Cowabunga Carl"—

Mikey struck is fist into the air. "Personal appearance! My best one ever, dudes! Way better than bar mitzvahs."

"Hopefully you won't have nightmares about this one," Donnie said.

After Raph and Leo left and came back, pizzas in tow, the six of them sat down around the table—one large family, with only a single glaring absence; in all the warmth, still that chill sense of incompleteness that even the greatest blessings could not dispel. Raphael sat next to Leonardo as their brothers joked with the engaged. The two of them exchanged glances, feeling on them the weight of Splinter's lack among them, save in that voice which sounded like him in the back of their minds. Perhaps it was the not knowing that made it worse. Raphael's looks told Leo that this was how he must have felt, for those many months, when they didn't know what had become of him; that Raphael was used to this; that it pursued him, this series of absences, prognosticating imminent death, even if he was wrong. So his brother would return to the motorcycles, to the shop, to the silence, and himself to training. Obsessive avoidance, along parallel tracks. Leo smiled at Raph, telling him he was there, stopping on the same points, finding pause even through the happiness. The light only further sharpened that shadow.