Author's Notes: Raphael POV for this chapter. As a side note, in my AU Casey's parents are divorced and he lives with his father. His mother however, is very much alive. The turtles have not met any of Casey's family and I'm not sure if I stated it before but Casey and April are Seniors in high school and everyone is around 17-18 years-old.
Enjoy!
Chapter 3
Raphael
It's freezing. I curl my hands into fists as I run hoping it'll keep them warm. I refuse to wear those ridiculous, fuzzy mittens Mikey loves so much no matter how cold my hands get. The rooftops are covered in ice and snow and my feet slide until I have to grip the building's ledge to keep from toppling to the ground below. I hate winter. The only good thing is the night is longer and I can leave the lair without having to worry about the light of day.
I need to find a fight. I need to find someone to punch so I don't go after the person I really want to hurt. Her dark eyes and smug face flicker across my mind and my lip curls back into a snarl. I know Leo is right about this, no matter how much it irritates me. We need a plan if we're going to take her down for good this time. If we're going to destroy her. There's no other option. She has to pay. He thinks he understands; so does Master Splinter. They don't. They weren't there. They didn't look into her eyes. They didn't hear what she said she'd do to us. They weren't idle threats. She'd do all of it given the chance. I'm not going to let it happen. We're going to destroy her. I'm going to destroy her.
My T-phone buzzes against my shell and it sets my teeth on edge. Leo probably noticed I was gone and is calling to give me an earful. I fumble with hands stiff from the cold, sliding my thumb across the screen that's already fogged with condensation. It's Casey and I feel some of my anger slip away. If anyone will understand my need for a fight it's Casey. He won't lecture or judge. He'll laugh and fight at my side.
Meet me at the rink, Loser.
I roll my eyes at the text and slip the phone back under my coat. I head in the direction of the ice rink, grateful that I'm no more than a few blocks away. I only have to circle the roof for a few minutes before Casey's brash voice drifts up from the ground below. I peer over the ledge, spotting him to the left of the main entrance. I stop short of calling out when I see that he's not alone. She's short and curvy with blonde hair flowing out from under her pink, winter hat. Her voice mingles with his and I cringe when every one of her sentences ends with an upward lilt like she's constantly asking questions.
"And so I told him, if you think you're going to pull a fast one over on Casey Jones you've got another thing coming."
She laughs and it sounds like someone is squeezing a cat. "Oh, Casey you're so brave," she squeals. I feel a little sick inside. "What if he…"
She continues to blather on, but I tune her out. Years of Master Splinter trying to force me to meditate are finally paying off. I fumble inside my coat for my T-Phone, uncertain of how much more I can take.
Oh, Casey you're so brave.
I send the text and lean over the ledge. He must have the ringer cranked up as high as it's able because I can hear the fog-horn he has set for his text alert all the way up on the roof. He pulls his phone from his pocket and lets out a snort of laughter. I can tell he wants to scan the rooftops, probably to flip the bird, but he won't for fear of giving me away.
"That's uh, that's really great, Tina," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand still clinging to his phone. "But uh, I gotta get going. I need to watch my little sister," he says, the lie sounding so far from the truth I can't believe she actually falls for it.
"Aw, that's so sweet of you," she says with a nauseating coo.
I turn away when she takes a step closer with obvious intent. Eavesdropping and making fun of Casey is one thing, but I'm not about to watch that. I climb down the fire escape, dropping into the alleyway. I let out a string of muttered curses when I land in an ice-covered puddle. I try to shake off the slush with little success. The damage is already done and my feet sting from the cold. The last thing I want to do is go back to the lair. I'll deal with the discomfort.
"Thanks, Ass," Casey mutters and a snowball splatters in my face while I'm distracted. "She almost saw that."
I snarl and slop together a hastily made snowball that's mostly gravel and slush. "You didn't call me here to watch that disgusting display did you?" I ask, heaving the snowball at his head.
He tries to duck out of the way, the snowball hitting him in the back of the shoulder. "Ow, that had rocks in it!" he exclaims, wiping off the sludge from his jacket. "And you're just jealous."
Jealous. He's lost his mind. Why would I be jealous of that cat-screech sounding idiot? I bristle under the weight of my jacket, resenting the pull and restraint against my shell. I cross the few feet between us and punch him in the shoulder with perhaps too much force. He grunts his disapproval and tries to retaliate with a swing of his own.
"So what do you want?" I ask, catching his fist and pushing him backwards.
"Thought we could go for a patrol," he says with a shrug.
He's avoiding my eyes. Casey Jones is many things, but a good liar is not one of them. I've been set up. He's trying to babysit me. Someone told him I was up here on my own and he's making sure I don't do something stupid. A bitter, unpleasant taste settles in my mouth and I recognize it instantly as betrayal. I expect this from Leo. I'm sure he's behind it. He probably forced out my location from Donnie. He's an easy mark. Casey, though, Casey isn't supposed to take orders from Leonardo. He should have told me right away. We would laugh about it and then go beat up some Purple Dragons. He's not supposed to play along and treat me like some kind of loose cannon.
"Oh, patrol, huh?" I ask, not even bothering to tone down the sarcasm dripping from the words.
"Uh…yeah," he replies, stumbling over the words. "I mean, I know it's cold out, but…"
"Who called you?" I demand, pushing him. "It was Leo, wasn't it? What did he say?"
"What? No, no man. Leo didn't call me I swear," he says, ducking away from another shove.
"No?" I reply, rounding on him again. "You sure about that?"
"Yes, ow! Knock it off, ya psycho!" He says, pushing me back.
"Who called you?" I say again, grabbing hold of his arm when he tries to punch me. I bend it only until I feel resistance, but it's enough to get him mad. "Tell me who called you," I insist, bending his arm just a tiny bit further when he stomps on my foot.
"Ow! Geez, all right, fine! April, April texted me, all right!" he cries, stomping on my foot again when I don't move. "Let go! I told ya!"
I drop his arm and take a staggering step back. My foot was already stinging from the cold and now it's practically throbbing. "April?" I say with a curl of my lip.
That can't be right. He has to be lying. April is mad at me. She wouldn't care if I was up here alone. Or if she did she certainly wouldn't care enough to call Casey to watch out for me. Casey glares and rubs his arm with a frown that is boarding a pout.
"Yeah, April. About this tall, red hair, bad temper," he grumbles, rolling his shoulder around with a grimace. "I think you dislocated my shoulder."
"Your shoulder is fine," I grumble, quickly changing the subject back to the more pressing matter. "What did she say?"
He moves his arm one last time with another wince and mutters. "That you saw that boss lady on the news and freaked," he replies, picking up his bag from where he dropped it. "Thought it might not be safe for you up here alone, asked me to check in on you."
I grind my teeth and ball my hands into fists. "I can take care of myself."
He holds up his hands and shrugs. "Hey, I know that, man. It was either I agree or Leo was gonna come up here and drag you home. Thought you'd like to bust a few skulls instead. If you don't want to hang, that's fine, I'm not gonna force you. I'm no babysitter."
I relax my fingers and step away from the edge of the red place. Casey doesn't deserve that. He gets it. I feel a pinch of shame at the edge of my thoughts and if this was polite society I would probably apologize. I don't need to though. He knows I didn't mean anything by it. I wiggle my toes and grimace at the lingering pain that has crawled up under the wraps around my ankles. All I want is to get warm. I hate the winter.
"April needs to mind her own business," I grumble in place of an actual apology.
Casey snorts in reply and I know everything is all right between us. A little misunderstanding and casual violence is nothing to hold a grudge over.
"I don't really see that happening any time soon," he says, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Come on, it's freezing out. Let's go to my place. There's left over lasagna."
I'm instantly uncomfortable. I've known Casey for years, but I've only ever been to his family's apartment a handful of times and never actually ventured inside. I must look reluctant because he adds with a toothless grin.
"Don't worry, man. Dad is working late and my sister is spending the weekend at Mom's," he says, climbing up the fire escape without giving me a chance to decline the offer. "If we hurry we can catch the Rangers game," he adds.
The snow and ice slows me down, but it practically immobilizes Casey. The short trip across the rooftops takes three times longer than it should and by the time we reach his apartment I'm so cold I don't care about my earlier reservations. I just want to be inside and out of the freezing wind. I wait impatiently on the fire escape, stamping my feet and shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat. It feels like an eternity until the lights flicker on inside and Casey's face appears at the window. He pretends to struggle with the lock and I narrow my eyes.
"Open the damn window, ya idiot!" I say with a warning slam of my fist on the window pane. "Or I'll break the glass!"
He pretends that he can't hear me until I hit the window frame again. He cackles and flips the series of locks. The old window fights back, sticking in its runners and it takes our combined efforts to open it enough for me to pass through. The sudden warmth of the kitchen burns against my frozen skin and I can't hold back a shiver that starts in my toes and zig-zags up my spine. Casey is already foraging through the fridge, still wearing his winter coat. I close the window and stand awkwardly just inside it.
The kitchen is small, with all the normal things a kitchen is supposed to have. We have a very similar kitchen in the lair. This is different somehow. It's surrounded by windows and there are family photos and old birthday cards and scribbled drawings stuck to the fridge with novelty magnets. There are a pile of text books on the counter and more than a couple dirty dishes in the sink. The small, round table at the center of the room is covered in a yellow table cloth that has seen better days and a stack of mail sits in a decorative bowl that was once probably meant for fruit. It's just a kitchen, a normal kitchen, a human kitchen and it fills me with a twisting, painful feeling in my chest that I can't quite place. All I know is that I don't want to stay here. I don't belong here.
"Score, Dad has some beer stashed away back…hey. You all right?" Casey asks, emerging from the fridge with the remains of a six-pack dangling from his fingers and a tin-foil covered lasagna pan tucked in the crook of his arm.
I'm not. I'm not all right. I won't admit it though. I can't pinpoint the source of my discomfort, but I have the sinking suspicion it has everything to do with those snake eyes glaring out from the darkness. I nod and turn my attention to prying off my coat. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about her. We're not going to get anything done tonight, even though every piece of me is screaming to do so. They all thought I was going to go running off and take her on by myself. They think I can't be trusted. I tried that once and I failed. I got caught and I nearly got my brother killed. I want to destroy her. I want to hurt her like she hurt us, but I'm not going to make the same mistake twice.
"Just cold," I say around a cough. "It's like an ice cube in here."
The half-truth is enough for him and he cackles out a laugh. "Dude, you guys are always cold. Maybe if you didn't run around naked…"
"I've got a coat on, jackass," I snap, waving the long sleeves in his face. "This place is still freezing."
He laughs and dumps the food onto the table. "Fine, all right, I'll turn up the heat if you're chilly," he says with an exaggerated pout and a fake shiver.
His laugh turns into a grumble of pain when I punch him in the side. I don't stop him from cranking the thermostat and soon the feeling starts to return to my fingers and toes. He races into the family room to turn on the hockey game, blasting the volume so he can hear every word of commentary while he re-heats the lasagna. He tosses me a beer and I roll the cold can against the palm of my hand before popping the top. It's not my first drink and it most certainly won't be my last. It's something that only ever seems to happen when I'm with Casey and I can't think that Master Splinter would approve, but what Sensei doesn't know can't hurt him.
I think this is what people do, what other eighteen-year-olds do. They go to their friend's watch the game and have a couple beers. It's nothing I would ever do with my brothers. Not that it wouldn't be fun or that they wouldn't enjoy it. It's more selfish than that. This is my thing. This is our thing. I don't have much that is mine alone and I'm not ready to share. I'd never tell Casey. He wouldn't let me hear the end of it and he'd be right to tease me.
It's stupid. I'm stupid. It's nothing special. It's just left overs and some cheap beer and a less than thrilling hockey game. It's nothing special to almost anyone else, but I've never had a friend before. This is new and different and mine. For at least a couple hours I can forget about everything else. I can push aside her pinched face and the memory of her cold voice. I can forget her unfeeling snake eyes and the sound of Donnie's shell cracking when the blond guy kicked him. I can forget how I let everyone down, how I almost cost us something too horrible to even think about. For a few hours I can pretend none of that matters. For now, there's food and drink and a good friend to share it with. For right now I'm just like everyone else.