April walked with her head slightly bowed and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Every so often, Donnie would shoot her a concerned look and open his mouth as if to say something but she would simply bend her head a little more, causing her unwashed red hair to fall as a barrier between them, until he turned away again. Now that the initial joy of seeing Donnie alive was beginning to wear off, April had started to slip back into her earlier guarded and slightly depressed state. She felt her eyes water and wondered if she was just starting to get a cold or if she was about to burst into tears.

"How are you?" Donnie asked after several minutes of silence. His voice was gentle. April wanted to scream at him. How did he think she was? She'd been kidnapped and tied up for weeks, not being able to go outside, not being able to see her dad, not even knowing if she'd survive the day! She felt awful. She just wanted to bury her head in the sand and let someone else deal with things for once. What did he expect from her, really?

"I'll be ok," she said instead and Donnie frowned as if he didn't believe her.

"I understand this must have been…"

"No." she interrupted. He looked at her in confusion and she had to resist the urge to sigh. "No, Donnie, you don't understand. You weren't there." There was a pause.

"I'm sorry." A barely audible sigh and April looked away, refused to meet his eyes. "Maybe I should just let Master Splinter deal with this. He's better at this sort of thing anyway." The words were quiet and April wasn't completely sure that he'd meant for her to hear them but she was too tired, too raw after the events of the last few weeks, to make allowances for Donatello tonight.

"You do that," she muttered. She walked away from him, quickening her stride. She cared about Donatello. Perhaps not in the way that he wanted her to, but she still cared about him. He was her friend, her best friend if she was being honest with herself, and she was very relieved to see him alive again. Those weeks as the Shredder's prisoner she had been so worried about him, had pictured him miserable and alone, and she'd been certain that something terrible would happen to him. And yet here he was and he seemed fine, so why wasn't she more happy? Why did she feel so angry toward him? Was it because she'd thought he was suffering on his own when instead he'd been with friends, with Karai of all people? Was it because his concern was littered, as always, with the unsubtle hints that he liked her and why couldn't he just give it up and move on already? She didn't know. She only knew that she was angry, furious even. He was at her side, and she could tell that he was about to try and force her into conversation again and she wanted to punch him. He opened his mouth.

"Save it, Donnie," she snapped, still not looking at him. The turtle was momentarily taken aback. For a moment she thought he might actually do what she wanted.

"You will be all right, you know." So much for that. She rolled her eyes at him. "I mean it. I know you must be feeling terrible right now, but it will be ok. We're here for you. I'm here for you."

"I just… don't want to talk about it right now." She wished he would just take the hint. Another pause.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you out sooner." That got her attention. Funny enough, it had never even occurred to her to be angry about that. He had got them out after all, that was all she could really ask for when you got right down to it. She told him this and he smiled weakly at her.

"I should have been quicker. I should have stopped this from happening in the first place."

"Not your fault," she mumbled and she couldn't help but feel annoyed that she was comforting him when she was the one who'd just gone through a traumatic experience. Did everything have to be about him?

"I was so worried about you. I don't know what I would have done if anything would have happened to you, April." It was an olive branch of sorts, his way of telling her that he really did care and that he meant it when he said he'd be there for her. April was still angry. She wanted to rant at someone to cause them pain as if it would cancel out the pain she herself felt, but she couldn't bring herself to do that to Donatello. The turtle meant well. So she bottled her anger and tried to remember who she was talking to.

"I… I was worried about you, too."

"We'll completely understand if you don't want to do this anymore." April wasn't prepared for that. She stared at him in shock.

"What do you mean?"

"This," Donnie said, waving his arms around as if that clarified anything, "Being our friend. If you want to back out and have something resembling a normal life…. Well, we'd get it." He was hesitant, and had this hopeful look on his face and she knew that he wanted her to laugh at him and say that of course she didn't want that. Of course she still wanted to be friends. She couldn't quite bring herself to do it. She loved the turtles, she really did. She loved the friendship and adventure and excitement that they brought into her life. But along with that was also fear and danger, times when she felt like running and never looking back. Normally it was fine, the good outweighed the bad and it took a lot to rattle her anyway. But after the last few weeks… Let's just say that she hadn't yet made up her mind. She made a non-committal sound and pretended to ignore the way Donnie face fell. Donnie tried several more times to get her to talk about it, but she was resistant and refused to say anything so he gave up. She was grateful. This was something that she had to deal with on her own.

It didn't take long for them to reach her front door. April was so relieved, so blindly happy to be home, that she almost instantly forgot her simmering feelings of anger and resentment and actually laughed out loud. Donnie sent her an amused glance, but thankfully didn't say anything. She practically ran up the steps, knocking on the door feeling giddy. The door was opened a few seconds later and April was pulled into a fierce hug by her father.

"I'm so happy to see you," he whispered into her hair, "Oh, my precious little girl." April hugged him back just as fiercely. If she screwed up her eyes really tight she could almost believe she was a little girl again, back when the world seemed so much simpler.

"I, er, I guess I'll be going then," Donnie said awkwardly from behind her. The two O'Neil's turned to look at him.

"Thank you," April's father said, his arms still clutched tightly around his daughter. A mess of different emotions fluttered across the turtle's face for a second and then he nodded.

"I would do anything to keep April for harm," he told them. In the still of night the admission seemed much more powerful than he had probably meant it. April got the strange feeling that he had somehow just sworn his soul to her. She waited for him to take it back. Donnie hesitated, opened his mouth once, and then he was gone.

Her father led her inside and she let him, still shaken by Donnie's final words. He deposited her on the sofa and made his way into the kitchen to make tea, prattling on about nothing much all the way. She smiled softly and toed off her shoes so she could curl up on the sofa without getting it muddy. She definitely needed a bath but not right now. A yawn forced its way through her lips. April suddenly realised just how absolutely exhausted she was and she pillowed her head on her arms and allowed her eyes to fall shut. Maybe Donnie was right. Maybe it would be ok. She was alive and the people she cared about were all safe. Maybe that would be enough, with time.