Note: Some aspects from Casey's dream were taken from the TMNT comic based on the new 'toon, issue entitled, "Meet Casey Jones" like the episode. I haven't seen the episode yet (sadness) so I dunno how alike they are.

Shadow Games: III

He was having another dream, or rather, a nightmare. But this time it was for different reasons, mainly because of his new-found delirium caused by the biting cold that must have made him sick.

Casey was back in his old house, he was a little boy again, worrying about his Dad and the protection money wanted by the Purple Dragons. He cowered in the room with his back against the wall as his father stomped toward him carrying a look of disapproval.

"What did I tell you?!" his father shouted, waving a fist in the air. He was a big, intimidating man, and his thick mustache twitched with his yelling. Yelling that seemed directed at his son. "The Jones' don't give up boy! We ain't quitters, how many times I gotta tell you that?" he angrily lurched forward and punched his meaty fist into the wall just as Casey slumped down the wall to avoid being hit, though he didn't really think his father quite meant to strike him.

"I'm sorry Dad," Casey mumbled, his lower lip trembling. "I didn't mean it...I just thought - I thought if you paid the Dragons they'd leave us alone..." he trailed off, seeing the disappointment in his father's stare.

- - - - -

April woke as she heard Casey's incoherent mumbling while he tossed and turned in his sleep. She sat up slowly, crawling out from her sleeping bag and getting to her feet. A brow raised in sympathy and confusion as the mumbling became more coherent.

"I'm sorry Dad, I didn't mean it...." Casey whispered in his sleep, his face scrunching up while he bit his lower lip.

Leaning over the bed, April noticed the sheet of sweat over his face and tentatively reached out a hand to touch his forehead.

- - - - -

His father's hardware store had just been burnt to the ground, his Dad nowhere in sight. Young Casey was kneeling on the street, tears trailing down his cheeks. He looked up to see a group of Purple Dragons thugs heading toward him.

Words were spoken and everything in the dream had suddenly gone into fast-forward.

The next thing he knew, Casey was stabbing a teenaged Hun in the leg with half of a broken bottle, and after that the Dragons were beating on him. They were hitting him so hard and with such a fury, he just wanted the pain to stop.

- - - - -

Casey suddenly flinched from April's gentle touch as if she was hurting him. A strangled cry of, "No, leave me alone," escaped from his lips as he pulled away only to roll off the other side of the bed in a tangle of blankets, landing on the old wooden floor with a soft thud.

"Whoa, Casey!" April rushed around the bed to find that he was still asleep, still caught up in his dream. It wasn't unusual for her to witness Casey coming out of a nightmare, but this time it was a little something more.

He curled up on the floor and flinched as if someone was kicking and punching him, and he was feebly trying to block the attacks. Casey's expression twisted into pain as shaky hands moved up to block his face.

"Casey!" April called out, trying to keep her voice steady and firm as she reached for his shoulder. "It's a dream Casey, no one's hurting you. Wake up!"

Opening his bleary eyes and groggily pushing himself off the floor, Casey tried to focus on the person in front of him, but the blurry shape just formed into one of his tormentors. He flinched as if he was a little boy again. "Gah!" Ducking out of the way, he found himself leaning back against the floor again.

"It's me Casey, it's April!" she said, concern written across her face.

Donatello was suddenly standing in the doorway, his eyes wide. "I heard all the noise, what's going on?"

Wild blue eyes flashing toward the turtle, Casey leaned further into the wall and floor as if he was trying to sink into them. In his mind it wasn't Donatello who had entered the room, it was Hun, and he was just a little kid who had let his family down.

The turtle grew a very confused expression at Casey's reaction, but didn't step forward another step in worry for what would happen next.

April's worried gaze turned to him. "Donnie, I think Casey's got a fever, he's delusional." she explained quickly, holding out a hand to keep him back. "I don't know who or what he's seeing, but it's not us."

"Calm down Casey, we're not going to hurt you. It's Donatello and April, we're your friends." Donnie said soothingly, still keeping his distance so he didn't further upset the sick man.

Casey breathed heavily for several moments, then opened and closed his eyes tightly a few times and shakily climbed to his feet. As he focused on the two others in the dark room again, he could clearly see they were not his foes and relaxed a little, but was still having trouble deciphering which was a dream and which had really happened.

Testily stepping a little closer to Casey and motioning for Donnie to slowly do the same, April bent down and picked up a fallen blanket. When Casey didn't flinch or move away, she gently draped it over his shoulders. "Why don't you lay back down, okay?"

Nodding distantly, Casey absently rubbed at his left side and grimaced. His ribs were hurting a little from his tumble off the bed.

"You okay?" Donatello asked, noticing the change in his expression.

"Yeh," Casey's answer was very brief and automatic as he climbed back onto the bed and laid down, running a hand over his face to wipe away some of the sweat.

Donnie moved beside the bed and reached out to place his palm on Casey's forehead. He then pulled back and looked to April with a nod. "You're right, he does feel feverish."

April frowned with a quiet sigh. "Is Raphael okay?"

"He's fine," Donatello nodded. "Sleeping, snoring, he's alright. By his snoring it sounds like he's a little congested, but I'm sure he'll be fine. A mild cold."

Casey shivered and groaned, pulling the many blankets tighter around himself like a mummy while he laid in bed. He let out a long sigh and rolled on his side while closing his eyes.

Turning her attention back to Casey, April sat down on the side of the bed and carefully touched his shoulder. "Do you need anything?" she asked softly.

"Mrmf," was the mumbled, under-the-blankets response she got in return.

"I'll take that as a no, but I'm going to bring you some Tylenol anyway to get the fever down." Glancing over at Donnie, April said, "Can you go downstairs and make sure Mikey isn't about to set the house on fire by stuffing too many logs into the wood stove?"

"Sure," he nodded with a partial smile, then left the room.

Before following him out, April sat there a moment just staring at Casey. She couldn't deny she had feelings for him, that she'd felt this way for awhile, but how would she let him know? Did he feel the same way? Of course they teased eachother and occasionally flirted, but was it more than that?

- - - - -

Warming sunlight shone through the front windows of the old farmhouse, warming the wooden floors within by the light and betraying the coldness that lay just outside those barriers. It was a bright yellowish-white morning sun, and the sky was a beautiful baby blue with thick puffy clouds dabbled in just the right places so it looked almost just like a scenic painting.

Inside, Raphael and Casey both sat on the couch wrapped in heavy blankets and revelling in the warmth from the sun shining through the windows and the roaring fire from the wood stove. The tv was on in front of them, remaining on The Food Network after nearly half an hour arguing over the remote to the point where they no longer cared what they watched. Besides that, there wasn't much on tv early in the morning. The two had been up since six a.m. much to April and Donatello's chagrin since they had been woken up by them.

At first, Donatello hadn't thought that his brother Raphael had been affected much from the other night, but by morning the turtle had a stuffy nose, and sore throat while his friend Casey had been outside in the bitter weather longer, and ended up with a high fever and cough.

"Here's some tea guys," Donatello said quietly so as not to wake his remaining sleeping brothers while he set the mugs down on the coffee table.

"Thanks Donnie," Raphael said, his voice sounding very congested and hoarse.

"Either of you two want something to eat?"

"We got some o' those frozen waffles in the freezer..." Casey started, glancing over at Donatello standing beside the couch.

Donnie nodded then began heading out of the room. "Okay, I'll pop a couple in the toaster-oven for you guys."

A smirk graced Raphael's face as he nudged Casey. "Hey, with service like this maybe we should get sick more often, eh Case?"

"Don't even think about it Raph!" Donatello teasingly growled from the hall.

Casey snorted a laugh and leaned back on the couch to rest his head against the old overstuffed cushions. A sudden hand reaching out to touch his forehead caused him to jerk slightly to the side and look up and over his shoulder to find April standing behind the sofa. "Jeeze April, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," she smiled a little bashfully. "I thought you were sleeping." April came around from behind the couch and sat down on the armrest. "You still feel pretty warm." she told him with slight concern in her eyes as she gently touched his forehead again with the back of her hand.

"That's 'cuz he's a hot-head." Raphael snickered, butting in before taking a sip of tea to soothe his sore throat.

Casey glared at his green pal in mock anger before a look of indifference crossed his face and he shrugged at April's assessment. "I feel fine." Then, to undermine his words, he was suddenly consumed by a coughing fit.

Frowning a little, April patted his back and stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "Right. You're fine." she shook her head, then started to walk off. "I'll go see if we have any cough syrup."

"See if ya got anythin' for stuffy noses too!" Raph called hoarsely before she went out of sight.

- - - - -

"Water heater's all fixed!" Donatello announced as he climbed up the cellar stairs, wiping his hands off on an old rag and setting down his tool box.

"Thanks Donnie." April smiled at him, then curiously raised an eyebrow and looked around the empty livingroom. There were no voices that she could tell, and the tv was off, which was unusual. "Where is everybody?"

Donatello shrugged and picked up his tool box again to bring it out to the Battle Shell. "Not sure." He paused a moment and frowned. "But Raph and Casey should be resting." Shaking his head, the purple-clad turtle headed outside, closing the door quickly behind him so little heat could escape.

Stumped as to where the others were, April sighed and wandered over to the stove to add in another log.

- - - - -

After putting away his tool box, Donatello was heading back into the warm farmhouse when something caught his eye. His brothers Raphael and Mikey were sitting on the roof with Casey, staring out into the woods before they noticed him. "What the shell are you guys doing up there?!" he shouted, staring up at them, dumbfounded.

"SHH!" Mikey called down to him with a finger raised in the typical 'shushing' motion.

Figuring he wasn't going to get an answer unless he was actually up there, Donatello easily climbed up on top of the Battle Shell, then planted his staff and launched himself up and onto the roof. He landed softly in a crouch and moved over to where everyone was sitting. "Now will you tell me what you're doing?" he asked, resting both hands on the tip of his staff as he patiently waiting for an answer.

Raphael and Casey remained silent, still staring off into the woods as if they expected something other than trees and undergrowth to be there.

"Raph and Casey both saw something or someone out in the woods last night," Michelangelo began explaining as Donatello took a seat beside him, resting his staff behind his heels as he bent up his knees. "That's why Case was out there in the first place."

"Shadow soldiers." Casey said quietly without shifting his gaze.

Donatello looked from Casey and Raphael to Mikey skeptically, but listened on.

"That's what he's calling them now," Michelangelo jerked a thumb toward his human friend before continuing. "So he went out chasing these shadow soldiers and got caught in one of their traps. That's how Raph found him. And when Raphie-boy went looking for Casey, he heard something, then felt someone brush up against him, but when he turned around there was nothing there."

Donatello sighed and rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean there's something or someone lurking around the woods out there." He pointed toward Casey and Raphael who were wearing heavy clothes and wrapped in blankets where they sat on the roof. "They're sick, and Casey's delusional from fever." he shook his head and stood up.

"No," Mikey started defending them. "Casey started seeing these shadow people slipping inbetween the trees and stuff before he got sick. He saw them the morning before we came, and then again while we were playing ninja hide-and-seek."

Frowning, Donatello still shook his head, not willing to believe there were shadow things creeping around the woods until he had scientific proof. "So you guys have been sitting out here looking for them?"

"I figure we'll see more of 'em runnin' around when it gets dark." Casey said quietly.

Raphael turned to his brother, noticing Donatello's unbelieving look. He grumbled and stood up, snarling. "Fine, don't believe us Donnie! I don't even care." he growled, pulling his blanket with him as he went over to the upstairs window and climbed in.

Frowning, Casey got up and followed Raphael inside, leaving Michelangelo standing there with Donatello on the roof.

"Nice goin' Donnie, you got them all mad," Mikey shook his head and gestured toward the window. "I believe them, even though I haven't seen anything myself yet. I mean, what if these shadow dudes are after all of us or something? What if they wanna cook our brains or-"

Donatello sighed and began walking toward the window that Casey had left wide open after he crawled through it. "You've been watching the Sci-Fi channel way too much Mikey."

"Hmph," Michelangelo scowled with mock-offense and then realized he was all alone. "Hey, wait for me!" he squeaked, rushing toward the window to catch up.

- - - - -