Chapter Ten:

There was a voice.

It sounded like her voice.

It whispered his name.

Flashes of fire. The sound of gas hissing from a pipe.

Screaming. So much screaming.

It felt like weeks.

Pain. Everywhere.

Pain.

Everywhere.

Then numbness.

Darkness.

Then… nothing.

Donatello's mind finally began to stir with the sounds of scraping metal. It felt like ages since he'd even thought. He almost forgot how. There were low mutterings here and there, a faint sound of screaming in the distance. It was cold enough to warrant a shiver- which he couldn't quite manage to do. It smelled faintly of lemon cleaning solution and bleach. Wake up, he told himself. That's all you have to do. Open your damn eyes! As his eyelids began to struggle to open, the pain set in. A dull throb at the back of his head; there was a sharp pain in his side with every inhale. Not good, he thought. Suddenly, a voice could be heard. It sounded muffled.

"You piece of shit! Leave him out of this!"

Before there was another protest, the whips of a leather coat filled the air, before the sound of knuckles against skin.

"Quiet, freak! It seems that your pal here is starting to wake up…"

His eyes finally cooperated with his brain and opened, only to be nearly blinded by a bright light. When his vision adjusted, he realized he was strapped against a table, in a standing position. Across from him was-

"Raph!" He gasped, his voice hoarse. The act made him cough, and his side ache. He hissed, drooping against the table.

"'Raph', eh?" a man asked. As he looked closer, he saw his brother's body riddled with cuts and bruises. "Short for…?"

When he didn't answer, the man moved his arm so swiftly, Don barely noticed the blade in his hand slicing the flesh of his brother's arm.

"R-Raphael! Short for Raphael!" He shouted, glancing guiltily at the turtle in red.

"Damnitt!" his brother yelled.

"I said quiet! Let this nice cooperative… thing talk."

Another scream could be heard somewhere outside, and the three of their heads all whipped toward the sound. The man turned swiftly away, pulling out a walkie-talkie.

"Someone please shut up that goddamned monkey! Are none of you competent enough to complete this one simple task?!" A couple voices scratched in.

"Yes, sir."

"Right away. Sir."

He took a deep breath before turning back to the turtles. He stepped closer, leaning into the light, allowing Don to get a better look at him. He sported all black- even black shades that he adjusted to get a look at the turtle in purple.

"Tell me… What is your name?"

He glanced worriedly in his brother's direction, barely noticing him shake his head.

"Your name, monster!" he shouted, pulling out a knife and tucking it beneath Don's chin.

"Donatello!" he blurted. The guy retreated, clearing his throat.

"So, Donatello… You and your friend here were found in the sewer… In pretty bad shape, I might add… My men and I saved you- there seemed to be some sort of explosion. And although we'd been keeping tabs on the area above, your friend tells me that it was just you two." Don locked eyes with Raph, seeing the desperation on his face. "However, my scans indicate that there were more of you…"

"H-He's right. It's just us."

The man was in his face suddenly, dark shadows clouding his features.

"Don't lie to me. I don't take well to being lied to. You don't want to see what happens to your buddy Raphael here if you're lying."

"I swear. Just, uh… just us."

He growled, jabbing his elbow into Raphael's forearm, snapping the bone with the blow. He howled, straining against his bonds and Donatello winced. When he looked back, Raph shook his head.

"You see, freak, I've been watching the area for a long time. And all my information indicated there were four of you. Which, in case math escapes you, leaves two others." Donatello fought the urge to spit in the guy's eye. "All the police reports, all the civilian reports, even Murakami said there were four. So DAMNITT TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!" the guy shouted, so angry that spit flew from his mouth. Don gritted his teeth knowing he wouldn't be able to wipe it from his face. He stayed stoic, silent as an ant to the human ear. In the corner, water dripped slowly onto the floor. He snarled and spun around, turning the light toward a table full of supplies. Except they weren't for cleaning… Don gulped as he grabbed a pair of pliers. Much to his dismay, he walked across the room, wrapped either end around one of Raphael's fingernails and yanked.

"WHERE ARE THEY?!" He screamed, purple-faced, just as Raph passed out. It wasn't long before he opened his eyes again, and he tried not to look at his hand. The man placed the pliers around another nail.

"FINE! Fine!"

"Don, no!-"

"There were more of us, alright?! But the explosion… we… we lost them. Th-they're all gone." He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Then explain to me how we didn't find them too?"

"It was before the explosion. An enemy of ours… he-"

With seemingly no warning, the man's fist collided with Donatello's right cheekbone, the force causing it to snap.

"I SAID DO NOT LIE TO ME!"

Donatello fought for his consciousness, blinking away tears.

"I'm not lying. They're gone!"

He took a deep breath again, pacing before the brothers. Don glanced over at Raph, who's bloodshot eyes rolled lazily, watching whoever it was move back and forth. He felt his eyes begin to droop when the man shook him awake.

"And the humans-"

"Gone," he blurted, his jaw clenching to hide the lump in his throat. The man stopped and turned to him again, a slight smirk on his face.

"You were close with one of them, no?" he asked. Don blinked. "A girl… April, is it? The missing O'Neil girl-"

"April O'Neil? I-I don't even know-"

He was cut off by another blow, to the same spot, making stars dance across his vision.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" He whipped around, walking across the room to a desk, flipping through a manila folder. "If you didn't know her, how do you explain this?!"

Out of the shadow, he produced a photograph. It took a moment for Don's eyes to adjust and he wished they hadn't. Below a pile of rubble, was Kirby, mangled by the explosion and crushed by the cement. His arm lay outstretched on the ground, reaching for the camera- his eyes open, staring lifelessly at him. He fought the urge to be sick.

"The Foot were coming after him, he was a scientist, they wanted his knowledge. He was hurt after the explosion at his apartment complex, and-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he was struck with another blow, immediately causing him to lose consciousness, his head drooping toward the ground.

Elsewhere

"April, what do you mean? I watched-I watched them-"

"Mikey, don't you understand? He came to me! He told me that they needed our help! He wanted me to reach them!"

He blinked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"I don't understand…"

"Donnie came to me! In my dreams. More than once! He wants me to use my powers to find them! When he came to me, he wanted me to remember the story. He wanted me to remember the story so I could find them! He and Raph-"

"Raph's… alive?"

Mikey glanced over to the doorway, where Casey leaned against his crutches.

"Case, wait-"

"Yes! They're alive!"

"How? How do you know?"

"We don't!" Mikey snapped, beginning to feel himself get overwhelmed with everything, the lump rising, his eyes stinging with tears.

"You don't… believe me?" she asked.

"I don't know! I just… I watched them die, April. I w-I watched the lair explode. I watched as Donnie was yelling at me to get back and I just… I don't know if I can get my hopes up," he said, running out of the kitchen, and straight out the front door.

April stared at the broken cup on the ground, the tea gone cold. She knew she sounded crazy. She knew that if it was just her subconscious trying to manifest him back into the world, it would break her. It would break Mikey. But she had to try. If they were out there somewhere, if they were in danger, she needed to know. But how could she? She was weak, her powers were weak. She knew just as well as anyone that a blast of that caliber didn't have great survival rates. But she also knew that she'd lost almost everything that day. Her father, the love of her life… all at once. And she wasn't even conscious for it. She had to go and get herself hurt. She just had to call him. Put him in danger. But if they'd just taken a bit longer to get down to the lair, maybe… She scoffed at herself. "If"s wouldn't bring back her family. "Maybe"s wouldn't bring back her strength. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the overwhelming grief creep it's way into her throat.

Casey cleared his throat and limped over, attempting to crouch beside her. She knelt too, the act causing her stitches to pull, and they cleaned up the mess in silence. She tried to smile up at him, tucking a piece of stray, wet hair behind her ear. He mustered a twitch of the side of his mouth, but she took it. Even the ghost of a smile from him was better than nothing. He grabbed the biggest pieces of china and tossed them into the trash bin while she fished the smallest ones out of the puddle of tea. When they finished, he used his crutches to help himself back up, but they slipped on the still-wet floor, and before she could catch him, he clattered to the ground.

"Oh no! Casey!"

"Fuck," he whispered, punching the linoleum and fighting back tears. He heard her hiss as she bent to help him up and he cursed at himself. April touched his shoulder and he flinched away.

"I got this, Red," he spat. But he didn't. He tried getting up again, and he fell once more, smacking his head against the floor. She sat him against the cupboards, and reached for the rag hanging from the stove. It made her stitches pull again, but she grabbed it anyway. He took it from her hand.

"Thanks," he said.

"It's no problem. What were you gonna do, lie there all day?"

He noticed the two of them panting and he laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I mean, just look at us. We're out of breath from trying to- Oh my God, April! You're bleeding again!"

"What? Oh. Um. I'm just gonna have to clean it up again… damn stitches…" She stood slowly, using the wall to shuffle toward the door, when she turned. "Ah, fuck I almost forgot. You want some help upstairs?"

"Uh… yeah."

She made her way over to him and after a few minutes, she was able to hook her arm under his and heave him up. He had to admit- she was one strong lady.

"What happened earlier?" He asked. She clenched her jaw, focusing her eyes on the steps.

"I fell. I was trying to fucking shower, and I fell." He saw a tear slide down her cheek and he looked away, taking another step.

"Oh. Uh, I'm sorry."

"I just… he's been in my dreams. The same thing, over and over. And I just woke up in a panic and I wanted to do something for myself-" She heaved him up the last step. "-ya know? I needed to wash it all away, and I couldn't even… Anyway… Sorry." She pushed open the door to his room and they made their way in.

"You're fine. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay. R-Ra-um… he's been in my dreams too. I rarely sleep anymore…" They sat down on his bed and he sighed. "Mikey's got some supplies in here. You want any help with that?" He nodded to her side, where her shirt was stained crimson.

"Um yeah. Actually. There's some spots I can't see toward the side." He grabbed what they needed and he handed it to her. She reached for her shirt and started to tug it off, when she stopped. Oh well… it's nothing he hasn't seen before, she thought, remembering a time she'd been changing in the dojo after training one day before school, and he came bounding in just as she'd hooked her bra together. Thankfully, there was a tree in the way… Her cheeks flaming, she finished taking it off, noticing he'd been staring. "What's that all about, Jones?"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry, I-"

"You're fine. Just help me with this?" She asked, laying down on her back. She took off the gauze and handed him the peroxide and the tweezers. "You don't need to replace 'em, just tighten. We're pretty low on supplies. And I did just get them." He nodded, concentrately cleaning and tightening her stitches. Wow, I never knew he could be so gentle, she thought. Who would've thought…

Casey gulped at the sight of her wound. Images of her lying there, dying, skewered with a pole flashed before his eyes, and he blinked them away. He remembered Donatello ordering him to hold it as he cut. If it jostles around too much it can hurt her more. We don't have time. But the thoughts of him brought thoughts of them all, which brought thoughts of- No. Case, get it together.

He finished wrapping it again, softly taping it closed and laying a hand on her stomach. She sat up hesitantly, feeling how tight the gauze was. His hand fell, next to her thigh. She looked over at him staring again.

"Casey, what's-"

He cut her off, his lips colliding with hers.

His hand expertly slid up her back and turned her toward him, but just as she felt herself sinking into the kiss, she coiled back. She felt her eyes stinging and blinked away tears as she stared at him in mute horror. He leaned forward again, and her brain screamed to run away, but… she stared up into his eyes and felt him pull her and before she knew it, he urgently wrapped his lips around hers again, making her gasp for air. She let her hand slide up his arm, to his neck, as he moved his lips to her neck, in that sweet spot, a tiny moan escaping her mouth and she moved her hand up again, intertwining her fingers in his hair-

"NO!" She said. "This is-no. I can't-"

"Red, wait-"

"No! No! No!"

"Red!"

"This can't happen, Casey! I thought-I thought-"

"What?! You thought what April?! Don-"

"Stop it-"

"Donnie's gone!"

"I said stop!" she screamed. The act sent Casey flying into the headboard, shifting the bed to an angle and putting a hole in the wall. The lightbulb in the lamp popped and the window cracked once, up the middle. She gasped, her hands flying over her mouth. Her feet began to take her before her mind registered it, and as she turned to the door, she halted to a sudden stop.

There, with tears in his eyes, was Mikey.

She hated herself for making him look smaller. For making him look like he was that fifteen year old kid she'd met so long ago. She hated that there was genuine fear in his eyes, and she ran past him, into her room.

A/N: Okay y'all this took WAY too long I am so sorry! College is stressful, guys. Just like always, comments, suggestions, etc. are welcome!