April remembered Leo's tearful account of what had happened when he had accidently jostled his injured sibling. Unknown to Donny, or Mike, she had been the one to soothe away Leo's increasingly toxic guilt at the time. It was simply a matter of parroting the reassurances like a gentle battering ram, an art that April had mastered rather recently. When Leo had finally accepted that he was not to blame, she was pleased to see the burden lifted, and his shoulders a bit less bowed. Leo had looked into her eyes, a bright hint of his old strength returning. And to her surprise, Leo impulsively embraced her. She stiffened, but returned the gesture, her arms awkwardly laced over his shell. Ever mindful of how frail she was compared to his brothers, he gently held her to his plastron, and whispered, "April, I know that I've let you all down, and I'm sorry."
She scowled up at him. "Leo, you've not-"
He silenced her with a commanding look. "April, I've been nothing but a sobbing wreck since this whole ordeal started. I know that you and Donny and Mike have had to be strong for Raphael. You shouldn't have to be strong for me. That ends now."
It was not quite an edict, but it was oddly reassuring to see Leo lose that wilted, bewildered grief, and replace it with resolve. April wasn't sure what had triggered this sudden change, but it was welcome. She gave Leo a wry smile of understanding.
"It's good to have you back, Leo. "
He gave her a tired smile of his own. "It's good to be back, April. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take care of Raph."
April had spent the rest of the afternoon in the small town half an hour away at the grocery store, and laundry. As usual, clean bedding for Raphael was the priority. She didn't know what was so reassuring about the homely task, other than it was something she could do for them. The turtles, of course, didn't wear much in the way of clothing, nor did they seem to use sheets, or bedding. They knew what a washing machine was, but had no idea how to operate it. She knew that they used pillows in their hammocks, but compared to the layers of sheets and quilts in a normal human bed, their own needs were almost Spartan. She knew how comforting a soft place to lay was, especially when somebody was sick, or in this case, injured. Raphael would probably be embarrassed as hell to find himself swathed in the feminine floral patterns, but that was a small matter compared to his bruises being off the hard floor.
April folded the massive quilt into some semblance of order, and stuffed it into the virtual mountain of clean bedding. The laundry basket was overflowing with the rest of the blankets, and sheets, but she expertly hefted it over her hip. Balancing it against her side, she carefully hauled the thing down the hall to the place now known as Raph's room.
She halted in surprise to see the door closed, and timidly knocked. If Donny was examining Raphael, or Leo was having yet another talk with his comatose brother, she didn't want to intrude. She heard the footsteps, as the door was abruptly flung open. Mikey met her, saw the laundry basket and was already reaching for it.
Mikey gave her a bright smile. "Hey, April, let me get that."
And before she could protest, Mike yanked the heavy basket away, hefted it over his shoulder, and moved out of the door frame to allow her entrance.
"Sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to interrupt-"
The bright smile faltered, as Mike set the laundry basket down a few feet from Raph's pallet. April noticed Mikey's dark scowl, as he stared down at Raphael.
"Oh, don't worry, April, you're not interrupting. I wasn't doing anything but yapping at Raph, anyway. First time I can get a word in edgewise, you know. Raph's finally quiet-"
His words were soft and uncharacteristically bitter, as he finished, "And I never thought I would hate this so much, April."
His burning eyes slid to hers, hard and anguished. April stared at him, and for the first time she could remember, he didn't smile back.
"We all hate seeing him like this, Mike." She answered, softly.
"Leo keeps telling me that Raphael is coming back to us. Hell, for Leo, he even opens his eyes. Why the hell can't he just….wake up?"
April looked at him, sadly. "I don't think it's that simple, Mike. Or that Raphael has a choice. Knowing your brother, do you think he's voluntarily lay here of his own free will?"
He shook his head. "No…I guess he wouldn't. But still, April, how long can he just…stay like this?"
"Mikey…."her words trailed off, uncertain and lost. She had no answer for that. None of them did.
She swallowed, hard, as she gestured towards the laundry basket.
"I think he might feel better with some clean bedding. Could you help me move him?"
Mikey looked at Raph's limp form, and gave her a curt nod. April was tough, for a human, but she didn't have the muscles to move Raphael on her own. Mikey watched, as April lowered herself beside Raphael's bedside.
April peered hard at his face, as if searching for something she couldn't name. A flicker of awareness, a groan, anything.
Mikey watched as her pale human hand gently caressed his temple, carefully avoiding the swelling, or the bruises.
April stared down at Raph's slack, still face. The swelling had finally gone down, leaving him looking less fractured and a bit more like himself. She still remembered those tortured moments she had held him in her arms, after he had been flung at her feet. She had met his eyes, as she cradled his head in her lap, broken with that panicked agony, as they flickered down to his twisted sprawl on the floor, circled by the glittering glass.
And when she saw those hooded monsters staring down at her fallen friend, she had at last understood why Raphael would want to kill.
Shaking off the useless memories, she lay her hand over his shoulder and gently squeezed it. His flesh felt reassuringly solid, and warm beneath her palm.
"Hey, Raph. I'm sorry to bother you, big guy, but we need to move you, alright?"
Normally, April's nickname for Raphael would have made him smirk. She studied his face, and ignored Mikey's bitter eyeroll, and curt retort.
"He can't hear us, April. Or else, he would have reacted by now, or something."
She turned in surprise at the odd bitterness. "Mikey? You alright?"
He sighed, and shrugged, ignoring the question.
"You wanted my help in moving him, right? Let's move him, then."
The words were biting, as he snatched the quilt from the basket. He flapped it open with a loud pop, and let it fall to the floor. He dropped to his knees, rolling up the old bedding around Raph's back and legs, tucking it as close to his body as he could. Ignoring April, he layered the new bedding over the fold, gathering the edge of the quilt around Raph's shoulders, and shell. Silently, April moved beside him, laying the pillows in a long line that they would use to roll Raphael onto his back, and support the injured side.
Mikey angrily stuffed a pillow under Raph's skull, and April recoiled at the harsh motion.
"Mikey, be careful with him!"
He glared over his shoulder at her. "Do you want my help in moving him, or not, April?" And with that, he gripped the edge of Raphael's shell, folded the injured arm into another pillow, and log-rolled him.
April had no time to hiss out the warning, before Raphael landed on his injured side. Mikey stood there, stupidly, when Raphael's whole body lurched when his flesh hit the floor. Even through the wadded blankets, his injuries were still too fresh to withstand the movement. The small whine of pain made Mikey freeze in horror. April had to restrain herself from bodily harming Mike, as she snarled,
"Damn it, Mikey, you have to be careful with him! Help me get him off his bad side, before you hurt him more!"
Numb with guilt, Mikey instinctively gripped Raphael's shell, and tried to roll him off of his bruises. Raphael suddenly tensed, in shivering instinct. He whimpered in helpless agony, his body flinching away uselessly away from the floor. His face contorted into a sharp line, and his breath quickened.
"Raph…oh, God-" Mikey snatched his hands away, eyes huge and fearful.
"Mikey, help me!" April snapped. She gently rubbed Raphael's shoulder, whispering, "I'm sorry, big guy, I know it hurts. It will be over with soon, Raph." The erratic hitch of his panicked breath slowed a bit, and she felt the pained tension minutely relax.
Trembling, Mikey gripped Raphael's shell, and legs, as April cushioned his head and shoulders. Together, they eased Raphael onto his back. April hastily gathered up the old bedding. Mikey helplessly apologized to his stricken brother in a pathetic, streaming plea. Finally, Raphael was gently cushioned on his back, the pillows piled around the edges of his shell to keep his limbs level. Angrily, April fluffed the thick blanket into the air, and carefully re-draped it over Raphael.
Glaring at Mikey, she snapped, "Stupid question, but if Raphael isn't here, why does he react to pain?"
Mikey's eyes were huge, as he looked from Raphael, to her burning green eyes. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him, April."
The anger softened a bit, as she gestured towards Raphael. "You don't need to apologize to me, Mikey. You need to apologize to him."
She stormed out of the room, basket in tow. She tossed over her shoulder, as she exited, "I'll be back up here with some compresses. Maybe that will help with the pain, if Donny can't think of something."
April halted, as the anger in her eyes finally melted. "I know you didn't mean to hurt him, Mike. But, it would probably do Raph some good if you talked to him, okay?"
He nodded, with a helpless glance to his brother. April left the room.
Mikey resumed his troubled crouch by Raphael's head, and stared hard into his face. The evening's shadows had filled the outside, now, and the bright shards of the sun had long vanished. They kept the light in the room low, in case the harsh glare made it hard for Raphael to see.
The sharp line of pain between Raph's eyes had eased, somewhat, but he was still rigid, and breathing rapidly.
Mikey carefully scooted closer, when April returned with the hot water in the large bowl, and the small pile of towels. She also carried the bag of ice, and the Ziplock baggies for the swelling. Silently, she lay them at his feet.
"Do you need any help with this?"
Mikey shook his head.