The adrenaline had faded moments after Bebop and Rocksteady had thrown her into the cell, leaving behind it a pain worse than Spike had felt after any fight.
Her hands clenched where they rested on her knees. She ignored the stabbing pain that shot through them, raising an arm to swipe at the hanging threads from her torn stitches. Her hand came away smeared with dried blood, adding to the layers already caking her knuckles.
The undiscovered tape recorder rested in her pocket, a hollow triumph. After all of this, in the end, it hadn't mattered at all, a distraction in the grand scheme of staying alive. Even that, she'd failed in.
Spike dropped her head back against the wall of the metal cubicle, exposing her grimy neck to the cool air. The overly-clean scent of the cell mixed with the stench of blood, sweat, and sewer muck that she was still covered in.
Spike closed her aching eyes, dropping her head back down so her chin hit her collarbone. Her jawline ached from grinding, as well as the pummeling it had taken over the last few days.
The Shredder was going to mutate her into a monster, like he had Bebop and Rocksteady, and then he'd kill April. The thought had settled into her bones, a cold chill that sapped her will to move, to fight.
The image of April, crouching by the manhole cover, eyes wide, face pale, flashed before her eyes, a frozen picture, the last time she'd seen her in the light.
Spike had known what to do, then. The plan had come so easily to her, the unshakeable knowledge of what she had to do. She'd had control. Options.
Strength.
She'd been strong, hadn't she? Angel's Champion, the Unbreakable Spike Sanchez. She'd been strong enough to beat a Purple Dragon in the ring. Strong enough to hold her own, to never have lost a fight before.
Strong enough for April to depend on.
And just like that, her strength was gone.
Inside this metal prison, forced into a world of ninja and monsters, despite nearly two decades of pushing herself, training her body and mind until she was near exhaustion, molding herself into a fighter, she was weak.
Twenty years of ensuring that she'd always be able to do one thing, always be able to protect one person, and she'd failed.
Her gut roiled, churning what little food she'd managed to choke down. There were no tears, no dry sobs, just a suffocating feeling of failure. Of helplessness.
The Shredder had played her, used her, and planned to use her again. All of her struggling for some semblance of control hadn't mattered. No matter how cleverly she'd played it, she'd been a rat in a trap.
A small comfort, that no matter what she'd done, this was the outcome, trapped in a living hell of monsters and mutants.
Spike's right clenched into a fist as she roared, slamming it sideways into the wall next to her,
inflaming the throbbing already present in it. Her chest heaved, struggling to get air in, ribs aching.
"Pardon me, are you alright?"
Spike's eyes snapped open, head jerking upward. She shifted forward, stiffly rising to her feet as she craned her neck, glancing around the small cubicle, searching madly for the source of the other voice.
"Who said that?" she rasped, spinning. "Where are you?"
"I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you." The voice was gentle, unafraid. It was an old voice, warm, out of place surrounded by the cold, metal prison.
The voice came through the right side wall, muffled slightly, but there, nonetheless. Spike took a tentative step towards it, eyes narrowing at the barrier to the other cell. She eyed the wall darkly. "Don't remember any other prisoners in this joint," she rumbled. "How long have y'been here?"
"Not long."
Spike frowned, suspicion gnawing at the back of her head as she took another step towards the wall. The memory of the Shredder's words rang in her head, forgotten in her self-pity: Foot soldiers, assemble a squadron to wait by the entry and prepare for capture. We are about to have another guest.
It seems the old fool has come to us.
"Y're Hamato Yoshi."
A pause.
"I was."
Spike's fists clenched, bruised knuckles aching as she lunged forward, slamming her fist against the wall again, surge of rage drowning out the pain. The conjured images of vicious reptile monsters flashed before her eyes as Hun's story came back to her, as the Shredder's tale of the dangerous Hamato Yoshi wound its way through her thoughts.
"If you've done anythin' t'April, I swear I'll rip your throat out," she thundered.
"Do not worry, my fellow prisoner. I am not your enemy."
She'd heard that one before. She wouldn't be so easily fooled this time.
"Prove it," she snarled.
"I fear that may be a trifle difficult in the present circumstances. I can tell you, however, that April is quite safe, Ms...Spike, is it?"
Spike's jaw clenched. She nodded jerkily, forgetting that this Hamato Yoshi couldn't see her.
"Rest assured, she has been well taken care of. One of my sons found her in the sewers and brought her to our home. She is unharmed. Shaken, but unhurt."
A pause.
"She is searching for you as we speak."
April's still alive.
Spike heaved a broken gasp as anger poured out of her. Her knees buckled. She forced herself to stay standing, resting her forehead against the cool metal as an overwhelming wave of relief struck her.
Of all of the promises that this stranger could have made her, all of the things he could have said, that was the one thing that she would have believed.
No matter the danger, April didn't give up on anything, whether it was a story she really wanted, a crossword puzzle in the morning paper, or friends.
That, more than any evidence Hamato Yoshi could have given her, was solid proof that April was still alive, that Spike hadn't failed her.
Not yet, anyway.
Spike raised her head, staring at the distorted reflection of her scarred face. Her eyes hardened.
If April was trying to find her, she was in even more danger than before.
Spike braced her palm against the wall, pushing away, smearing the spotless metal with mud and blood. She turned towards the door, setting her jaw, eyeing it as she took a step back, giving herself more room.
The battledrum was back, pounding in her ears as she turned her good shoulder to the wall and charged, throwing her weight into it.
She bounced off the wall, grimacing as she backed up, coiled like a spring.
Again.
It hurt, but it was a good hurt. She had a plan again. The corners of her thin lips tilted in a determined look as she threw herself at the door again, all one-hundred-and-ninety-eight pounds of her hitting with all her might.
"I'm not certain that brute force is necessarily the way out of this situation. Should you break through the cell door, what then? Oruku Saki's lair is a maze, heavily guarded."
"Jus' let me get through this door first," Spike forced out through gritted teeth. "I'll worry 'bout my way out from there."
"You have much determination. But one warrior cannot defeat a hundred. Rescue will come, I can sense it."
Spike paused, breathing heavily. She swiped at the torn stitches on her cheek, wincing as her blunted fingernails scraped the raw flesh, coming away bloody. Her skin itched, muscles aching to move, to do something.
"I ain't got time for a rescue," she muttered. "I wasted too much time 's it is." She raised her head, glancing at the wall that seperated her and the other prisoner.
"Y'took care of April, 's that whatcha said?"
"I did my best to calm her and ensure that she was uninjured. My sons did the rest."
Spike paused, thinking. "Y'any good in a fight, old man?"
A muffled chuckle came through the wall, a tinny sound. "It has been many years since I sharpened my steel on another's blade."
"Well, get ready to get sharpenin'. 'F y'helped April, I owe y'one."
She backed up, gritting her teeth, lips set in a firm, grim line as she lined up her shoulder with the door agian, surging forward.
Hold on, April. I'm coming.
I won't let you down again.
The sun was setting over the Central Park Zoo, filling it with shadows. Even the lights of New York City were not enough to brighten the dark orange sky on this, the last day of the year.
Under other circumstances, it would have been beautiful.
April clung to Raphael's coat-covered shell as he clambered up the stone entrance to the zoo, fingers knotting in the fabric.
"Hey, loosen up back there, will ya? Not used to being a taxi here, y'know," Raphael grunted, hooking his scaly fingers over the lip of the arch and hauling himself over. He huffed as April let go, rolling off of him and landing on her hands and knees on top of the Central Park Zoo entrance.
"Sorry." April shook her head, turning to Leonardo as he crouched, overlooking the zoo with a thoughtful look on his scaly face. "What's wrong?"
"Donatello should be back by now," he murmured. "He's disabling the security so that our presence isn't detected."
"Knowing him, he probably got distracted by some shiny metal parts," Raphael said, springing to his feet and moving to join his brother by the ledge. He narrowed his eyes, overlooking the park. "So, this is a zoo."
April nodded, smiling wistfully. "Yes. I haven't been here since I was a little girl, but I always used to love the zoo."
"I've always wanted to go here!" Michelangelo exclaimed, plunking himself into a seated position, legs dangling over the entryway. He pointed, grinning. "Check it out! There's a tropical zone over there! Think there'll be snakes and things?"
"I don't know," April admitted. "I never much liked reptiles."
All three turtles paused, glancing at her over their coat collars. She shrugged sheepishly.
"Until now, anyway," she amended lamely. She scooted closer to the middle of the arch, leaning against the brick structure in the center and hugging her knees to her chest, biting her lower lip as she looked over the darkening zoo. Even from here, she could hear the noises of animals, shifting, grunting, quiet calls as the creatures settled down for the night. The earthy, musky smell of the various animals, mixed with the scent of the park food, all mixed together in an overpowering odor that to sewer-dwellers, probably seemed tame.
As it was, despite the time April had spent in the sewers, she had to fight the instinct to gag.
She rested her chin on her knees, staring out over the zoo, shivering slightly. It just looked so...empty. After a lifetime of living in New York City, the sight of an abandoned anything was eerie.
This, the apartment, the sewers...April was quickly getting used to the uncomfortable emptiness of deserted places.
Leonardo shifted his weight, surveying the layout once more. "Donatello, where are you?"
"Here." Donatello's voice materialized, apparently out of thin air. He dropped from the trees, landing on the arch, making barely more noise than a whisper. "You know, I would love to come here and study these animals in person, instead of just researching them. I'm sure it'd be fascinating! Although, now is the perfect time, since the zoo is closed-"
"Did you disable the security cameras?" Leonardo interrupted.
"Of course." Donatello opened his hand, displaying a collection of miscellaneous parts. "There's no way they can pick up a video feed with these missing! We're completely off the radar."
Leonardo glanced at the wiring in Donatello's palm. "I'll take your word for it."
"There is a reason I'm late, though." Donatello turned, facing April. "I think I know where to look for clues. The police have roped off an area by the mammal cages. That's as good a place to start as any, right?"
"And it'll be easier to look now that the place is closed," Raphael added, crossing his arms over his plastron. "At least now, no humans can stop us."
"Unfortunately, the police have probably been over the area already," Leonardo mused. "We must be extra-vigilant in order to pick up things they may have missed."
April shook her head, rising unsteadily to her feet. "No. As soon as the cops figured out it was Purple Dragons, I'd bet they stopped all collecting of clues."
"Why would they do that?" Michelangelo asked quizzically.
"The Purple Dragons bought them off. Most of the cops in this town are owned by one gang or another." April stepped towards the edge of the arch, looking down. After leaping from rooftops, the drop was a small one, but it was a little higher than she was comfortable with.
"Well, that leaves us a better trail, at least," Donatello sighed.
Leonardo nodded grimly. "Let's go check it out."
"Okay." Michelangelo bounded to his feet. "But I want to go look at the animals after."
"You're on your own there, buddy." Raphael wrinkled his beak with distaste as April clambered back onto his shell, winding her arms around his shoulders. "There's just something not right about turtles in cages, y'know?"
"You've got a point."
"Come on guys." Donatello jumped, landing lightly as a leaf on the ground and taking off at a dead run. "Follow me!"
Raphael teetered on the edge of the arch for a moment. "You ready?"
April squeezed her eyes shut. "Just go, okay?"
"You got it."
An instant later, Raphael hit the ground, hastily detangling himself from April's arms as he tore after his brothers. After barely a moment to re-orient herself, April sprinted after them, following their lengthening shadows into the zoo.
The hole in the ground was as black as pitch, totally impossible to see into in the dark. April frowned, still holding the tarp that had covered it, as Leonardo stood at the lip of the chasm, tapping his beak thoughtfully as he looked into the pit.
"These Dragons must have dug their way up from their underground base," he mused. "We can assume that, since the theft, the Technodrome has not moved, correct?"
Donatello nodded. "Or if it has, not far. We can easily track it from here. But there is a good chance that it's still down there."
Raphael nodded, pulling off his fedora and stripping off his trenchcoat. "Great. Let's get cracking then, shall we?"
"Hold on." Leonardo held out a hand as he turned to his brothers, all crowded within the small area enclosed by police tape. "We can't just rush down there without a plan."
"What plan? We break in, we grab April's friend, we break out! Maybe knock some bot-heads in the process." Raphael shrugged. "What else do we need?"
"It's a little more complicated than that," Leonardo argued. "This is the Shredder. Master Splinter's old enemy. He is cunning, powerful. He has proven that to us already."
"Sure, but there's only one of him, and four of us," Michelangelo pointed out, puffing his chest out.
"Five of us, you mean," April corrected, stepping forward.
The turtles turned. "Absolutely not," Leonardo said firmly. "You will wait for us here, in case there's a cave in."
"We can handle ourselves in the sewers," Raphael pointed out. "You can't."
"We don't know if we can protect you down there," Donatello explained. "You could be hurt!"
"And Spike could be killed," April snapped. "She could be dead already for all I know!" She planted her hands on her hips, looking Leonardo square in the eye. "We've been over this before."
Leonardo studied her, deep in thought. April stared back, a determined set to her chin.
"She's in danger, and it's my fault," she said, quietly, but firmly. "I'm coming with you."
"Can't you stay up here and get your story?" Leonardo asked. "Call your crew and wait for us to return?"
April shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "Not unless you want this place crawling with the media when you come back, which is what I thought you were trying to avoid."
She knew for a fact she looked more confident than she felt. Even though her feet were on solid ground, and she wasn't swinging on structures, clinging to the backs of shells, her stomach was flipping. She cleared her throat, raising her pointed chin. "And more importantly, Spike's my friend. I'm not just going to wait for you to bring her back."
Her tone was absolutely final, but she was getting the feeling that wouldn't stop Leonardo if he really wanted her to stay. She wondered what 'drastic measures' looked like coming from trained ninja teenagers.
Still, she held Leonardo's gaze as steadily as she could, willing him to change his mind. Even if he didn't relent, she had no intentions of sitting on the surface in the dark, cold emptiness.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke a word. Finally, Leonardo sighed, bowing his head.
"Very well, April. You may accompany us, if you promise to listen to us and be careful."
"Geez, Leonardo, you sound like a mother," Raphael snorted. He jerked his thumb at the hole in the ground, now indistinguishable from the darkness surrounding them. "Are we gonna get going or what?"
"Yeah!" Michelangelo exclaimed, already bounding towards the hole. He dove, feet first, into the pit, hollering an enthusiastic: "Cowabunga!" that echoed upwards.
"Michelangelo!" Donatello cried, peering into the hole. "Wait for us!"
"Too late," Raphael said cheerfully. He dove after his brother, whooping as he disappeared into the black hole.
Leonardo sighed, shaking his head with frustration at his brothers. He turned his shell to April. "Hold on, April."
April stepped towards the lip of the hole, brushing past the blue-clad ninja. "No thanks, Leonardo. I've jumped into the sewers before, remember?" She swallowed, looking down at the pit.
Here goes nothing.
She closed her eyes, though it hardly made a difference, and took a step into thin air.
April hit the ground with an unceremonious thud, rolling to a halt by the discarded trenchcoat at Michelangelo's feet. The impact knocked the wind out of her, leaving her reeling, gasping for air as she struggled to her hands and knees in the crumbled earth underneath her. She frowned as her fingers brushed over arrangements of uniformly raised bumps at her feet.
Her eyes, blind in the sudden dark, widened with realization.
They were standing in monstrously huge tread marks.
"Uh, Leonardo?" Michelangelo called. "You might wanna come take a look at this."
April felt, rather than saw, the other two turtles land on either side of her as she staggered to her feet, sucking in a breath of musty air. They weren't in the sewers, she realized. They were inside one of the new tunnels this structure had drilled.
She blinked rapidly, straining her eyes to adjust to the darkness as she took a step forward. "What is it?"
A shape crouched before her, very still as it looked at something, nestled into one of the treadmarks. "It's Master Splinter's walking stick." Leonardo's voice was solemn, tight.
"He's never without it," Donatello added. "Do you think…" his voice trailed off.
"He must be in trouble." Leonardo stood, holding the stick in his hands as he turned to face the group. April's vision had adjusted enough that she could make out the pensive movement of his muscles, the too-controlled breathing. "He must have found this Technodrome."
"Then the Shredder has him," Raphael growled. He reached for his sais, baring his teeth.
"Let's go get him!" Michelangelo cried. He turned around, glancing in either direction in the tunnel. "Which way did they go?"
"This way, my dear turtles."
The voice seemed to erupt out of the tunnel walls, booming louder than April thought possible. She winced, reaching up to cover her ears as she swung around, attempting to figure out where the voice was coming from.
"It's an artificially amplified voice!" Donatello exclaimed over the echo. "There must be a surveillance system in here!" He nodded at Raphael. "See? Not a bad idea!"
"Now's not the time," Leonardo said sharply. He drew his swords, craning his neck to look at the tunnel ceiling. "Who are you and what have you done with our master?"
"All in good time, turtles. Should you ever wish to see your master again, you must come to me, just like he did. And as for you, Ms. O'Neil, you too are welcome. I have something that may interest you, as well."
The voice from the rooftop.
April bit her lip, reaching her arm out to grab Donatello's shoulder, clenching her fingers around the strap for his bo-staff. "That's him," she murmured. "That's the Shredder." Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening.
"C'mon, guys! What're we waiting for?!" Michelangelo shouted, drawing his nunchucks.
Leonardo's face was grim, the line to his beak hard. "April-"
"Don't even think about telling me to stay here," April said sharply, letting go of Donatello's strap.
"I wasn't going to. I was going to tell you to stay close." Leonardo's voice was low, numb, dangerous. He gestured with one of his katana blade down the tunnel. "This way. I have a feeling it won't be far."
"You realize, of course, that this is a trap?" Donatello inquired as Leonardo started off down the underground path, following the treadmarks.
"Of course." Leonardo's pace didn't waver as he led the group steadily down into the darkness. "But what choice do we have?"
Thank you guys so much for reading! Please let me know what you think in a review, it means a lot to me. Hope to see you in the next chapter!