Hogawds, guys, we've gotten a few reviews lately that made us want to cross-stitch and frame them! All you guys who leave just a nice short comment have no idea how engouraging that is to us, and it really makes all the hours upon hours of work totally worth it, just knowing it makes someone happy. Though because ffnet's comment and reply system sucks, we can't be sure of who we've replied to SO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH JUST IN CASE!

And of course huge thanks as always to our wonderful betas, Theherocomplex and Queequegg! ^3^

In this chapter we have April being miserable and then getting some sweet turtley comfort YES WE KNOW YOU LIKE THAT ENJOY.


Previously...

The Lotus clan was gone, probably never to be seen again. And even though it was a good thing that the ghost that almost killed Donnie (the ghost of Tang Shen, no less) was gone with them, the incident had also gotten April, and Donnie and Leo in trouble.

A few days before that, April's date with Casey had been nothing short of a fiasco. But maybe next one could make up for it... Even though April felt bad enough for Donnie.


The thing is, I deserve every bit of it, so… Alright I guess, April thought as she dragged her way down to the school science lab. She was barely half-way through the school day and already wished she'd tried one of Mikey's Fish n' Capers Surprise Fajitas just to have a reason to skip class.

The day had started out just peachy—if a day could even start when the last hadn't ended yet. How did Donnie manage to do this every other night? Without sleep, her brain couldn't tell one day from another. The only rest she'd gotten was when she'd nodded off in the lab, before the whole shebang with the murderous ghost-in-a-box. As she tossed and turned in Donnie's bed, it didn't help that she could still hear the Lotus packing, and Donnie's and Leo's shouts from the dojo as they underwent their punishment. Every kiai felt like a punch to the gut.

It didn't get any better after she left the lair for school in a kind of sleep-deprived fugue state: upon arrival, she realized her phone had been in plane mode since the previous night, and when she switched it off, she was greeted by more than a few angry texts and missed calls from her dad. Not in the mood nor the place for an over-the-phone scolding, she tried to appease him with texts full of apologies and promises, and almost broke her nose climbing the stairs while typing, to the amusement of every student around her.

Then, once in class, she went to take out her math homework, and her stomach sank when she reached in her backpack and her laptop wasn't there. It had to be at the lair! On Donnie's desk! So long as it had managed to survive her literally exploding, of course.

Ah, her so-called 'powers'. Her powers, which lately had caused more problems than they solved. If she hadn't let herself be influenced by that ghost, if she hadn't opened that stupid box, Tang Shen wouldn't have attacked them—attacked Donnie.

God! He could've been killed! Good job keeping those powers under control, April.

The self-recrimination was all that ran through her mind, class after class, information bouncing off her like ping pong balls—which did not spell out a good forecast for her upcoming exams week.

I wonder how my future self did with High School. I suppose she went to college… Wonder what she majored in, and where. Would it be okay to ask her? Would it even help if I knew? What if I don't like this future April?

Damn, as if she didn't have enough with her dad burying her in uni brochures. How could she not think about the future, when the future was coming to meet her in person?

The future turtles would be arriving in just 17 hours… 16… 13… And there she was, solving for the hypotenuse and taking teacher's dictations from some random play by Whatshisname IV. Oh, she really couldn't care any less today. Not even Science Lab was likely to cheer her up.

But finals were approaching fast and hey, speaking of futures, she still had to secure herself one.

At this point she would take simply making it through the end of the school year with her sanity intact.

"Hey, Red!"

April jumped, and nearly back-handed Casey's gap-toothed smirk, which had poked out from behind a passing locker door.

He recoiled, hands in the air. "Whoa! Jumpy much?"

April started to reply, then got a full look at his face.

Bruises were a common feature of the Casey Jones aesthetic—he always said they enhanced his 'macho-ness'. It was a good thing he was in the hockey team or every teacher in school would be onto him. But today's look had gone a bit overboard, and was more like an abstract painting: reds and purples and greens all mixing in choppy strokes and scratches, topped by a band aid at the side of his forehead.

"Whoa, those are new."

"Oh, that?" he barked a laugh. "Well, that was only Billy and all his, you know, 'collateral'. But I'm saving that story for later. Check it out..." He signalled April closer—revealing even more fresh scratches on his palms—and pried open his backpack.

"Is that…?" she bit her lips, conscious enough not to say the word 'alcohol' aloud in a school hallway. She took a cautious glance around at the passing students, shielding Casey's locker from view with her body. The green bottle read 'Tipsy Moose Mezcal, Made in Taiwan'.

"You said Wednesday, so I got a lil' something special in case we could, you know, 'hang out'." He wiggled the backpack, eyebrows doing the foxtrot. "Don't let the price tag fool you, this shit's delicious."

Oh, damn, it was Wednesday. She'd completely forgotten about their pending date.

"Casey, I… I don't want to seem like I'm making excuses, but didn't you get the memo? The future turtles are coming tonight. And I have so much homework to catch up on. My lab partner's still AWOL, and I have a ton of research to do in the library for this essay before heading to the lair." Not to mention Splinter's punishment, which was waiting for her as well. She wondered if anyone had told Casey about last night yet, about Tang Shen—it was hard to know, since too often Casey's reactions to serious events were unconventionally cheerful.

"That's cool, we can do library first," he said, making April cock her eyebrow, then her hip.

"Casey Jones at a library? I'll believe that when I see it. You know there's books there, right?" she whispered in mock-dread, as if the word books was synonymous for 'rat infestation'.

Casey shrugged, carefree. "I guess I could use a bit of quiet study time."

"Huh. That's actually great to hear, Casey," she said, thinking maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him after all.

"And then express-date. With 'Moose'." He wiggled the backpack again, the liquid contents sloshing quietly.

April crossed her arms, and said squarely, "No 'Moose'."

"Aw, seriously? I got this to share!" Casey started to protest, but halted at her look. "Okay, fine! No 'Moose'." He zipped the backpack closed and stuffed it back in his locker. "So express-date?"

April allowed herself a chuckle. What the hell, Casey's vitality might just turn her day around.

"If you're good," she said, and rolled her eyes at his victorious fist pump.

"It's a date, then." The bell rang as he slammed the locker door shut. "Library. Quittin' time." He shot her a charming smile before skating away.

"Sure you won't get lost?" she called after him.

"Very funny, Red!" he hollered back, slaloming his way down the hall between students, and she took off running towards her own class before she got in any more trouble.


Casey arrived at the library half an hour late. Apparently he'd had to ask for directions. And he reeked of cheap cologne and deodorant. Probably got it from the same place he got that 'Moose' stuff.

"Why don't you try to concentrate for a while?" she whispered, interrupting Casey's monologue on… well, hockey, or something, she didn't know for sure. She was trying not to pay attention, for homework's sake.

"I did! I'm blocked." He grinned, flapping the pages of his textbook.

"You've been here fifteen minutes."

"Exactly! Time for a break. How about you and I go out to the back and crack open that 'Moose'?" he suggested, clearly confident of his witty charm. She really hoped he hadn't brought that 'Moose' crap to the library.

"Will you please just let me finish this?"

She realized the look she had just given him had been a tad manic, but if it helped…

For a moment it seemed like it had, as Casey's smile receded and he leaned his head on his hands, appearing to finally settle down and read. That lasted about twenty seconds before he started tapping his feet, and humming. Someone shushed them from another table and April ducked her head, shielding herself behind her own hands.

For another five minutes she tried hard not to hear him.

Until it started raining bits of eraser on her pages, and she couldn't take it anymore.

"Case-" A piece flew into her open mouth and she sputtered.

"Oh shit, sorry, April. You okay?" he giggled under his breath.

Officially out of patience, she smacked the book shut. "If you're not going to take this seriously, I'll have to study at home," she said in angry whispers as she stuffed her things in her backpack, pushing away from the table and heading for the exit at a quick pace.

Before she was out the door, she heard the noisy drag of Casey's chair on the floor, followed by the squeaking of a pair of sneakers getting closer. She made sure to close the door right on his nose. It opened again immediately as she stormed down the hallway.

"Hey! Come on, April, what's your beef?"

She whipped around, and snarled, "My beef?"

"Yeah, I was just kidding around!" he protested, throwing a hand back at the library door and rubbing his nose with the other.

"You heard me say I needed to work, right? You know this is important, Casey! Finals are right around the corner and I have enough on my plate without you throwing bits of eraser in my mouth!"

Casey blew out a breath, shuffling his feet. "Come on, why do you care so much about a stupid exam?"

"Exams," she corrected him, wondering if Casey was even aware that it was true for all students, himself included. "And I care because I want to do something with my life, and not end up living under a bridge and eating out of a dumpster!"

"So what, you're saying I'm not doing anything with my life?"

She scoffed, hesitant under Casey's offended glare. "I'm only trying to be realistic here! What are you gonna do when you graduate—if you decide to graduate? Let me guess, you're going to be a world-class hockey champion."

"Yeah!" Casey spat, defiant. "Coach said I got great chances! I'm gonna make it to the big league!"

"That's honestly your only plan?"

"Hey, at least I know what I want! But what do you wanna do with your life, huh, Red? Like, why did you wanna date me? You obviously don't like me! I could tell from the start with that weak… floppy kiss we had. That was a fail kiss."

April reeled. "This has nothing to do with-"

"Okay, so you're all worried about realism or whatever, right? But what's so realistic about a kunoichi with superpowers anyway? Like, why're you even training? Why don't you just drop the ninja biz so you can focus on your real calling, like Math and shit! Then maybe you wouldn't be so bitchy all the time!"

April gaped, hurt and off-balance, as Casey gave her one last look and walked away. He may not have been eloquent or accurate—nevermind that he was probably just angry because their 'date' was in the gutter again—but he'd hit the nail on one thing. She'd been too afraid to face it, the possibility that there wasn't room in her future for ninjutsu or psychic powers. No room for the turtles.


"Yame!" Splinter shouted, and waited patiently as April froze mid-punch, shooting him a confused glance. She went to kneel on the dojo carpet with a wince of pain.

Her form had been… underwhelming. Once again, she was unfocused, her movements angry and sloppy. She was being absolutely ruthless on herself, seemingly aiming to overload her body into unconsciousness. Knowing she wouldn't stop until he gave the order—or until she passed out—he said, "That is enough for today."

April looked up, eyes shot wide. "What? Already? It's only… been like… an hour!" she protested breathlessly, panting and wiping sweaty hair out of her eyes. She could barely say two words at a time.

Splinter's lips stretched in bemusement. "90 minutes, actually. But I wanted to talk to you." The indignation on April's face morphed into distress.

"Master Splinter… I just wanted to say… I'm really ashamed about last night. It wasn't Donnie's fault, and definitely not Leo's—"

He held up a hand, and she stopped talking. "I do not need more apologies, April. I understand that spirit was the cause for much of what happened last night. Leonardo and Donatello already explained."

She lowered her eyes and said bitterly, "Whatever they told you about me, they were too kind."

He chuckled. "Oh? What makes you so certain?"

"Because I deserve much worse than a 90-minute training session," she deadpanned.

"Hm," he said, overstating his nonchalance. "Tell me, did you think perhaps you deserved a sprained wrist?"

She grasped her forearm timidly, rubbing the joint. "I'm alright, I just twisted it a little."

"In case you thought otherwise, injury was not the objective of this punishment, April. It is supposed to be a chance to reflect on your mistakes. To learn. And clearly we have not paid enough attention to your psychic abilities," he added pensively, one hand leaving his cane to stroke at his beard. "They are becoming quite prominent. We will have to keep a closer eye on them."

April's head hanged. "Hai, sensei," she said miserably. As he watched her, his worry growing, the crease in her brow deepened, her posture wilting more and more.

Calmly, he sat in front of her, laying his cane at his side. "You have been… distraught lately, my child," he prompted softly, not in his sensei voice, but in his father voice. "Is there something you would like to talk about?"

She visibly faltered, eyes flicking between him and the carpet. "It's nothing, sensei. A bit of teenage drama, that's all." She said at length, showing him a tight smile. "It'll pass."

Splinter eyed her suspiciously, hand back on his beard. He knew that was certainly not all, but perhaps it was best to let the river follow its course for now. She would come to him when she was ready, like she had before.

Though perhaps a small reminder wouldn't hurt.

"You are Hamato. Whatever happens, know you can always count on your family."

His words seemed to dust away some of the anguish from her gesture, though the crease in her brow did not fully erase. To his relief, she even gave him a smile. Sad, bittersweet, but honest. "I know, sensei."

Two years, Splinter mused, gazing fondly at her. It had been more than two years since April came into their lives. In a time when he was still missing Miwa, his baby girl, when he was sure he would never see his daughter again, this brave young woman had come along, and her loneliness and intrepid nature touched his heart. He became protective of April, came to see her as something close to a daughter. He liked to think she viewed him as a second father as well. They had both lost much, but they had also found each other.

Now Miwa was back, and… Splinter's heart clenched at the thought of her. She was back, but she was not back whole. Something inside of her seemed irremediably altered. His gaze fell on April's tessen, fastened at her side. He thought back to the day he had passed it on to her. Tang Shen's tessen. Miwa's tessen.

Not anymore. This weapon did not suit Miwa—it did not suit Karai. Their lives had been parted so long ago. A lifetime separated—away from his care, his teachings, his love—had made them both strangers to each other. What would she have been like, had she grown up at his side?

Splinter heard a light cough, and snapped back to reality.

April was looking at him curiously. He had been silent for quite a bit.

He stood. "Rest. Put some ice on that wrist. That is all for today."

"Arigato gozaimasu." April said, taking a bow. She stood then with another wince of pain, and headed for the exit.

He watched her go, thinking of how glad he was to have her in their lives; his other daughter. Meanwhile, he could only hope, one day, to be a true father to Miwa as well.


"Michael, put that down!" Donnie barked, yanking the tire pump from his workshop assistant after he'd already tried to build a bazooka with said pump and an empty canister, resulting in even more broken stuff on the ground. "Just go find me that crank! Remember, it has to be a 9.5mm and splined!"

Actually, it didn't have to be anything; Donnie didn't need that crank. What he needed was a few minutes off from Mikey's obligingness—he'd been working on prepping the Party Wagon for their excursion to meet the future turtles, and Mikey was… helping.

After a suspicious look, his brother blew a raspberry, but finally took off and disappeared out the lab doors. Donnie rubbed his tired eyes, and sighed at the blissful calm that immediately followed.

"You're wasting my skills, bro!" came Mikey's voice still, but it was a couple of rooms away.

He shook his head to himself and quickly got back to work on the Party Wagon's underbody. This respite would only last him about three minutes before Mikey upturned every toolbox and drawer in his bedroom and eventually gave up. He needed to be done and lower the Party Wagon off the lift by then.

It had taken him the whole day to get everything back in order after the spectacle of the previous night. Master Splinter told him to go to bed, but like he'd ever been able to sleep with so much stuff going on and so much left to do. So Donnie had prescribed himself a big dose of caffeine. With barely any sleep for the third day consecutive, and adrenaline levels plummeting after the high of a double training session, he was going to need the boost.

Between the ghost's electromagnetic field frying half of the lab's fuses and the force of April's psychic blast, the lab had certainly seen better days. April's laptop was only one out of many casualties. Poor thing, blown right off the desk. There wasn't much he could do for it right now. He would have to scrunge the junkyard for parts. But machines could be replaced or fixed; he was just glad to be alive. Last night had been the closest one in maybe, hm, five whole months?

Knowing Splinter's punishments, Donnie didn't expect April for a while. So he was surprised to hear her voice calling him from the entrance already just as he was done inspecting the brakes.

"Hey, Donnie?"

He clambered out from under the Party Wagon and peeked around the big tire towards the exit. "Hey," he greeted her falteringly, as she skirted around a pile of debris and broken parts, glimpsing around at the mess. She was clearly fresh out from the shower, hair wet and smelling sweet and flowery, but also wearing a sour face and a series of wet patches on her clothes.

In an effort to conjure a happier expression out of her, he risked a joke. "You know, a turtle shouldn't have to advise you to take your clothes off before bathing." He chuckled uncomfortably at April's long-suffering look. Okay, that didn't work. He cleared his throat. "So what happened?"

"Dropped the shower head with the water running full force and it whipped all over like..." She flailed her arms in the air as visual demonstration, then gave a tired groan. "So uh, I think I forgot my laptop here this morning. Did you see it?"

Donnie cringed. Here it came. He hadn't had the chance to tell her yet that afternoon. Splinter had been waiting for her at the top of the steps when she arrived from school, and she'd practically beelined for the dojo.

"Well… Yes and no," he squeaked, and pointed at the banged up metal mess atop his desk. He was then forced to watch her face as she recognized it.

"Oh no!" she wailed, taking two urgent strides over to the desk and gingerly picking up the device like a wounded bunny. Lucky Donnie had been working on her laptop to make sure he had some good news before she arrived. He was about to tell her when she suddenly slammed it back onto the desk. Donnie jumped.

"Fuck! All my school stuff was here! This is just what I needed! Fu-u-uck!" She lifted the laptop over her head, and Donnie only just saved it before she smashed it to pieces.

"Hey, hey!" he urged, gently taking it from her, quite concerned about her unusually colorful choice of language. "Listen, it's okay, I saved all your files! Here!" He swept the portable hard-drive off the desk and almost poked her in the eye with it.

She gawked at the little gray box being held in front of her nose. "Oh."

"I can fix your laptop too," he offered quickly, just in case, handing her the device. "It'll take a few days, and it's gonna need a new case, but I think I can get it back in perfect working order. Maybe you can borrow your dad's for now?"

"Yeah, I'll… I'll do that." She nodded, rubbing her forehead, and inspected the drive in her hand with a sigh.

"You alright?" he said tentatively, because this couldn't be just for the laptop.

"Yeah, I've just… been having the shittiest day," she admitted with an apologetic glance.

"Oh. Well… join the club." Donnie snickered, as he started putting tools away. "Double morning workout. Doesn't help that I didn't sleep at all last night, or this morning. Or, you know, the previous two nights? Anyway, I wouldn't have been able to rest knowing the state of the lab. It took me all day to get all my stuff back in shape. Thank goodness the portal didn't sustain any damage." He huffed, flinging the last tool aside, which landed in the drawer ten feet away with a clang, then pressed the button to lower the Party Wagon from its lift. He spoke up over the loud whirring. "Leo is beside himself, with the whole Lotus thing, and then… Phew, just be glad you weren't here for his fight with Karai and—"

The Party Wagon hit the ground with a clunk, and he turned around, and suddenly found himself wrapped in April's arms. A little squeak of surprise escaped him at the unexpected touch, her face pressed against his front. Cool droplets trailed down his plastron from April's wet hair.

Okay, he wasn't complaining… But she was clinging a bit desperately to him. Something was up.

"Um…?"

He felt her voice through him more than he heard it, and it took him a second to register her words. "I'm so sorry."

Then it dawned on him, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"What, for last night?"

Her breath hitched. He took it like a sign, and relaxed around her for a proper hug, now that he knew what this was all about. "Oh no, I didn't mean to sound complainy. It's really not that big a deal," he said kindly, giving her back a few comforting rubs. "And it wasn't just you. I stole that pendant, remember? I'm the one who wouldn't let this go."

She smooshed her nose harder against his plastron, and shook her head, clinging to him like a vine.

"Seriously, Master Splinter isn't even that mad! That punishment was annoying at best! I'd almost say the years have made him soft."

She untangled herself from his embrace and pushed away. "No. Donnie, listen—" But her voice caught, and she stared at him, mouthing the beginning of words. Donnie was starting to really worry. Finally she let out a long, hefty sigh. "I'm sorry, Donnie, I don't know what I'm doing lately. I try to do the right thing, but I only make things worse and—"

"Donneeeeh?" came Mikey's bellow like he was talking to someone across the freaking Grand Canyon.

"Back here!" Donnie called, gritting his teeth, and a moment later, Mikey's head poked around the Party Wagon.

"Hey, April!" he said merrily, approaching them.

"Hi, Mikey," April said with a lightless smile.

"Here, Don, your cranky...spoolinizer... kajigger."

Donnie took the device from him: a telescopic shoehorn. He opened his mouth to ask where the heck he'd found it, but thought better of it and just shrugged. "Thanks," he said before discarding it on the table behind him.

"So what happened?" Mikey asked, giving April a once-over. "You get sneezed on by Godzilla?"

Mikey's joke must have been funnier than his: it actually got a little giggle out of April.

"She's having a bad day, Mikey," Donnie said, one hand on April's back, and Mikey gasped dramatically.

"Okay, April, who needs their butts glued to their seat?" He rubbed his palms together. "Give us a name, Dr. Prankenstein will do the rest."

"That's not it, pea brain. She would have wasted them already, eh?" Donnie nudged April in all confidence.

April responded to this with a sarcastic chuckle, but smiled. "No pay off necessary, guys," she said sweetly, a thank you laced with sadness.

"So what is it then?" Mikey asked now with sincere attention, and he lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Donnie looked at her, waiting, but she only shrugged. "It's nothing. Just school stress, that's all."

"Well, I bet you'd feel better after a good meal," Mikey said, snapping his fingers, like food really was the answer to all of life's dilemmas. "Lemme make you something, April. I know just the thing."

"Uh… you don't have to—"

"I'll stick to the cookbook, sheesh," he retorted with a dramatic eyeroll. Then with a wink and a pair of finger-guns, he ran for the door. "BRB!"

"Okay…" April chuckled through her nose.

"He really tries," Donnie said, throwing April a knowing look, to which she nodded, smirking.

"So uh… you wanna talk about it?" he prodded gently before he lost his bravery.

Her smirk turned sour and she ducked her head, shaking it once. "I don't know," she started hesitantly. "I just… I've been generally unfocused and… and messy, and just angry for no good reason."

"No good reason?" he exclaimed. "Come on, April, I'm sure you come up with a few good reasons." He gave her a significant look, and held it until April let out an ironic snort.

"Well, I guess some." But then she went quiet, thoughtful, eyes cast to her left. "Maybe that's it," she said at length, her brow slowly furrowing. She propped herself up to sit on the desk as if in slow-motion. "It is too much. I mean, two years ago I was just April, just your regular high-school nobody, and all of a sudden I'm this... Kraang McGuffin with superpowers who's also a ninja wannabe. And I don't know which version of me I like least, to be honest."

April's self-inflicted burns hurt Donnie more than anything, because she honestly, truthfully seemed to believe all that.

Before he could protest, she went on, looking straight at him. "But one thing is certain, and it's that I can't be both."

He didn't like the defeated look on her face, or the way her shoulders sagged as though she had reached some kind of conclusion. He let her go on, dreading to know what said conclusion was.

"I used to be so proud of my powers at first, but… I'm obviously in over my head. I have no idea what I'm doing. I keep screwing up, I'm struggling at school, I can't control my powers..." She lifted the totalled laptop beside her half an inch only to let it fall again with a derisive thump. "I'm just hurting everybody. At this point, I'm… I'm a liability."

"That's not true, and you know it!" Donnie said, perhaps a tad heated.

But she didn't listen, and kept thinking out loud. "And maybe that's why. I have to make up my mind. Maybe I should stop trying to 'harness' my powers and instead find a way to… root them out." April mimed yanking something out of her, and she looked at him questioningly as though he could suggest a method.

Donnie's heart twisted painfully to a knot half its size, and for a second he was knocked out of breath. "What? No! April, you can't give up!" he blurted out in a near panic. "You can't squander all this potential!"

Was that it? Was she trying to say she wanted to quit? End her ninja training? Leave them?

"You could have died last night because of me," she said, her head-on look daring him to refute her claim.

Donnie took the dare. "That wasn't you," he insisted emphatically, to which she scoffed. "And if I didn't die, it's thanks to you. Your powers have saved our shells so many times!"

"Dumb luck. I promise I had no idea what I was doing any of those times."

"We can work on that," he promised. "Look, I'm not great at speeches, that's more Leo's specialty. And I don't know if there's anything else you can't say, or… don't wanna say..."

She perked up for a fraction of a second before looking away, which was all he needed to see.

He ignored the lurch his stomach gave and continued, "But you don't have to tell me right now. You just take your time, and figure it out. And then, if you want, you can tell me, or—or not. Up to you," he managed.

She didn't say anything as she looked to the side, legs held tight against the side of the desk. Donnie was pretty sure she was holding her breath.

As he looked at her, he knew it didn't matter what it was she wasn't saying. All he knew was he couldn't stand seeing her like this. He felt his heart swell, full of a special kind of certainty. He gingerly but firmly took her hands in his. "April, you're going to be a force to be reckoned with someday, I'm sure of it! Take a peek if you don't believe me." He pointed at his temple, leaning in.

April drew up her eyebrows, looking unsure for a couple of seconds. But Donnie waited, and leaned a bit closer encouragingly. After some hesitation, she gave in, getting a look of concentration, and slowly a warm, hopeful smile lit her features. "You really mean that," she said, almost in awe. It wasn't a question.

"You know it," he said, because he knew she did. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "But you have to take it a little easier on yourself, okay?"

"Look who's talking," she remarked cheekily.

"Yeah, well…" He nodded guiltily, but was glad to see her making jokes again.

April looked down thoughtfully at their hands, and casually turned them around on her lap as though examining them. His big, green mitt looked bigger still in her pale, thin fingers. He watched her, mesmerized, as she traced the scratches and scars with a look of concentration, almost as though admiring the striking contrast. She didn't even seem to care about the smudges of dirt and motor oil. After what felt like minutes, she let go.

"Thanks, Donnie."

A bit stunned still, he nodded. "Whatever you need, April. Always."

"Well," she said, rubbing her neck and rolling her shoulders. "Now that you mention it, can I borrow that miracle ointment of yours? I think that workout knocked a few screws out of place."

"Of course! Have at it, I got about a gallon of it," he said, quickly opening his desk drawer and retrieving a jar. Before handing it over, he said, "In fact, might I offer a nice, deep, physiotherapeutic massage, free of charge?"

"Actually, that would be nice," she agreed, looking a lot lighter just from the mention of it.

Donnie coaxed her to his desk, relieved that he was able to actually help, and in a more academic tone, he added, "You know, there are numerous studies confirming the emotional and physical benefits of human touch. Or, you know, for lack of a human, mutant turtle touch also works. In fact I'm pretty sure it's even better." He patted the seat invitingly.

She chuckled and shook her head, but sat down eagerly. "You're the doctor."


The first thing Raph thought when he heard April scream was that it had happened again: that ghost thing was back.

But when he got to the lab he found a whole different scenario. April was leaning half her torso on the table, pinned by Donnie's hands there as she screamed in pain.

"The hell is going on here? The hell you doing to her?" Raph cried, for the smallest fraction of a second thinking Donnie had found out about her date with Casey and was finally taking matters into his own hands, literally.

But Donnie announced proudly, "April's just a bit tense, so I'm helping out."

Raph frowned. "You don't say. It sounds like you're strangling a pig in here!"

April extended her arm out towards Raph. "Raph! Help me! Oww, mercy!" she gargled in mock-agony, though how much of it was mock he wasn't sure. He quirked his brow up at the joke, extremely unamused.

"Mercy, you say?" Donnie said mirthfully like a total psycho. "I seem to recall you saying something about that. Something to do with 'not going easy on you'?" He then pressed down hard. Raph, who was all too familiar with Donnie's healing massages, shivered. April cried out, but then laughed breathlessly against the wood of the table like she was stoned.

"Aww, they're so cute together," Mikey said, suddenly beside Raph and stirring a bowl of thick... something.

Unable to share the sentiment, Raph narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

She was doing it again. Even though she was dating Casey, she was still leading Donnie on. Raph groaned, crossing his arms.

"Come on, Raph. It's adorable," Mikey said tenderly before walking away, still stirring profusely.

But there was just one problem: it was not adorable. Adorable's not what it was at all. But he couldn't say why, because he promised Casey. So he walked back to the benches to do another hundred sets if only to drown out the sound of their sickeningly cutesy giggling.

This had to stop. For the good of Donnie.


Whoa-oh, Raph, whatchu gonna do?

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