Spike stepped in front of the old rat without even thinking, hands clenching around the kanabō handle.
"Jus' get out, Hun," she growled. "'Fore y'do somethin' we both regret."
"In yer shape?" Hun threw back his head, an ugly laugh tearing its way out of his ravaged throat. He winced, rolling his shoulders. "C'mon, Sanchez. Y're as good as dead." He pointed the blade in his hands at her, a burning hatred in his eyes. "Y'betrayed the Dragons. Fer that, I'm gonna hafta kill ya."
"Go ahead an' try, y'rotten second-rate slimeball," Spike snarled. She raised the kanabō. "Bring it on."
Hun slowly brought his other hand to grip around the katana handle. There was no windup, no pause.
The second he raised the sword, he charged.
Spike roared, bringing the kanabō up to meet him.
Pain wracked its way up her arms as she swept the heavy club in an arc, blocking the downward stroke of the sword and shoving it aside, wrenching her shoulders. She planted her right foot, raising her left boot to slam into Hun's knee. He bellowed, staggering, as Spike brought her elbow up to crush into his damaged chin.
Hun's stolen katana clattered to the floor as he reached up, hand almost a claw as it tangled into Spike's matted hair, yanking her head down to meet his.
Crack!
Blood streamed afresh from Spike's nose as she swore, dropping the kanabō to reach up, clutching at her face with one hand, closing her right hand into a fist. She swung backhanded, unable to aim through fuzzy vision, catching Hun across the other side of his jaw.
Spike took a step backwards, kicking the katana blade behind her, glancing over her shoulder as best she could through swollen eyes. "Go!" she shouted thickly. "Get outta here!"
Hamato Yoshi reached down, paws clasping around the handle. "A ninja does not leave his allies behind," he said calmly. "Nor does he leave the wounded to fight his battles for him."
"Ain't that touchin'," Hun barked, lunging, arms around Spike's waist as he drove her back into the wall.
Spike's head jerked back, cracking off of the wall. She raised both arms, clasping both hands together and bringing them down, smashing all her force onto Hun's spine before gripping around his torso, heaving his body into the air with all her might. She hauled back, forcing herself to breathe through her nose as she crushed his back to the wall, dropping him off to the side as his grip on her waist broke.
Yoshi was on him in a flash, the hilt of the sword snapping down into the side of Hun's jaw. The Purple Dragon jerked, then fell still. The sword twirled in his paws as he spun, his back to Spike, peering down the hallway. He turned, a fierce look in his eyes. "The Shredder's forces. They are coming."
Spike took a staggered step, reaching down to grab the kanabō, dropping to one knee as her balance failed her. The room was spinning, shaking around her, the sirens like needles in her ears. Her blood was pooling under her, oozing. Her knees were slipping in it, sliding as she fought to stay upright.
Her stomach was churning, and a second later, it was empty, bile mixed with blood spilling onto the floor. She couldn't form a single thought, adrenalin fogging every nerve.
Yoshi's paw appeared in front of her. She raised her head blearily, forcing herself to focus on his features. "Jus' get outta here," she rasped. "Jus' get out, keep April away from here-"
"You are not going to die here!" The old rat's voice was firm, stern, filled with more quiet power than she had thought he was capable of. "April has not given up on you. You must not give up on her!"
The words sparked new life in her joints and muscles, one last burst as the rush of blood, boiling hot, warmed her body.
April still needed her.
She couldn't fail her again.
Spike heaved a breath, bracing her muscles. She wiped her chin and mouth with the back of her hand as she staggered to her feet, the rat holding her steady with surprising strength. She could barely see in front of her, her mind full of April's panicked face and voice in the alley, in the sewers.
Spike leaned on the kanabō, forcing her legs to move, boots digging in, planting her feet with each step.
"Hurry, child, they are on the move."
Another time, Spike may have taken offense at being called child. Today, however, she ignored it, an icy chill shooting through her as she raised her head, breathing heavily through her mouth, unable to hear anything but the awful, shrieking sirens that pierced her skull.
A second later, the sirens stopped, leaving an empty, equally loud silence in its place.
Yoshi rocked back, whiskers twitching as he halted. Spike stopped with him.
"Y'hear somethin'?"
Yoshi nodded
"They are here," he murmured.
As he spoke, a wave of Foot soldiers poured out of the open doorways ahead and behind, circling in mechanical movements. Weapons raised, gleaming bright in the blinding overhead light, joints whirring and clicking as they settled into battle-stances.
Trapped.
The silence was eerie, breaking off as Michelangelo finished, lowering his hand. At another time, April might have questioned the quiet.
Now, she barely noticed.
April and Leonardo were at Michelangelo's side in an instant, a split second before the other two turtles.
"Master?!" Worry tinted Leonardo's ordinarily calm voice as he stared down the hallway. "Master Splinter!"
April could barely focus her vision on the tangled, teeming mass in the center of the corridor, a knot of writhing black. The floor of the hallway was cluttered with shards of metal, the shriek of tearing machinery rising over the sounds of shouting, grunting, clanging.
"Where? Where is he?" Donatello cried, arriving at April's elbow. He leaned forward, looking down the hallway.
"I saw him! I saw his robe!" Michelangelo pointed again. "Look! Between their legs!"
April stared at the ground, fighting to catch a glimpse of tail, of red robe, of brown fur. "I don't see him!" She took a step forward, only to be blocked by Raphael's muscular arm.
"You stay put. Let the professionals handle this." Raphael drew a sai, setting his beak. "You ready, guys?"
"Raphael, wait!" Leonardo held out a hand, forehead wrinkled in thought. "We need a plan-"
"Hang on, Sensei!" Michelangelo cried. "Cowabunga!"
"Michelangelo, no!"
Too late. Michelangelo dove into the fray, nunchucks swinging, Raphael on his heels.
Leonardo groaned. "They never listen."
Donatello drew his bo-staff hesitantly, shrugging. "Sorry, Leonardo."
April squinted, catching a flash of swift, smooth movement underneath the swarm of robotic ninja. Her heart jumped into her throat. "There! He's in the middle!" She pointed, rising on her toes, stomach flipping. "There he is!"
Leonardo's katanas were out in a flash, gleaming in the too-bright light as he leapt forward. "Master!"
Donatello turned, glancing at April. "Stay here," he said. An instant later, he too was gone, somersaulting over Leonardo's head, bo-staff extended. As he landed, he drove the staff through the head of a Foot soldier.
The robot fell. All down the hall, robots crashed into metallic pieces, crumbling and clattering onto the metallic floor, ringing out and echoing throughout the narrow corridor. The clang of metal, combined with the exuberant war-cries of the turtles, rang in April's ears, louder than the now-missing siren had.
April stepped forward, re-adjusting her grip on the katana. Her sharp eyes darted over the tangled knot in the center of the hallway as Leonardo's katanas brought another ninja to its knees, tossing it to the ground behind him.
As he did, a large figure, burst outward through the gap in the tight-knit horde, swinging an ugly bat-like weapon, roaring, face twisted in an inhuman mask of rage and pain.
Recognition flashed through April's mind faster than thought, turning her blood to ice as a mixture of horror and relief flooded her, locking her in place and turning her blood cold.
Her knees buckled.
The katana slipped from her grasp. She gasped for air, words stuck like a lump in her throat.
"Spike?!"
At first, she'd thought it was her imagination, or the result of her concussion.
Her mind had been so focused on April that it hardly seemed surprising to hear her voice. After two days of worry, of panic, of fear for her, it was natural to hear her, echoing amongst the carnage, the roar in her ears.
And then it happened again.
"Spike!"
Spike paused, chest heaving, craning her neck to see over the fray as the Foot soldier in front of her collapsed to the ground in pieces.
No.
She lurched forward, staring wildly, torn between hope and dread as April's familiar clear, high voice cut the air again, calling her name -
No. Not here.
Standing at the end of the hallway, arms at her sides, face white as paper, stood April O'Neil.
She can't be here.
Spike's entire body went numb. Her vision swam, blurring the edges of the hall, empty gut churning, bile in her throat. She was barely aware of the Foot soldiers at her back, in fragments at her feet, even of Hamato Yoshi at her side, darting, lightning fast, cutting down Foot robots two or three at a time. There was noise, shouting behind her, green blurs flashing past at the edges of her vision, but they may as well have been the wind for all the attention she gave them.
Her mind was focused into one point, her worst nightmare come to life, as one thought rose to the forefront of her mind:
She had to get April out of here.
She lunged forward, moving as though through water, wielding her stolen kanabō like a bat, knocking the metal head clean off of the sparking shoulders of a Foot soldier, clearing the path before her. Robot parts flew in every direction with each forceful swing. Each step brought her closer to April, and decimated another of the Shredder's machines. Her head rang, her hearing muffled as though her ears were stuffed with cotton.
Her heart pounded, almost in her stomach. Her gut twisted to the point of nausea. Her arms shook, overtaken not with fatigue, but with frantic energy. With fear.
She was so focused on April that she barely saw the shadow rise up behind April, big, bruised and burly.
She caught a glimpse of the bloodied tattoo of the Purple Dragons, gleaming under the bright lights as a massive arm came over April's head, locking around her neck-
She'd forgotten about Hun.
She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. April's eyes were wide, frightened. Desperate, the way they'd been in the alley, before Spike had failed her.
Spike could not fail her again.
She raised her kanabō, teeth bared in a menacing glower. She lunged, itching to bash Hun's head against the floor, to make him bleed. To make him stay down-
"Not s'fast, Sanchez," Hun growled. His arm bulged as he flexed, pulling April further against him.
Spike stopped short, breathing hard.
"''Nother step closer 'n yer pretty friend here dies, just like I oughta done in th' first place." He grinned, blood in his teeth as he tightened his grip on April's throat. "No friends t'help y'now, eh, O'Neil?"
April heaved for breath, eyes wide, hands scrabbling at the arm around her neck. Her eyes watered. She rose on her toes, fighting to breathe, mind racing while Spike stopped in her tracks.
Hadn't she been here before?
The katana lay on the ground at her feet, out of reach, out of use. The turtles and Splinter were further down the hallway, fighting their way through dozens of Foot robots.
And Spike was too careful to risk hurting April to attack.
She could feel her blood rushing, her head pounding as she twisted, wincing as she fought to tug Hun's arm away from her throat, to turn her head so she could get air in.
The rattle of metal was the only warning before Hun's other arm flashed up at April's side, whipping a chain out from the end of it and lashing out, faster than April could follow.
Spike swore, wrapping her fingers around her wrist as she stumbled back, weapon clattering to the floor.
She raised her head slowly, looking past April, stoney glare boring right into Hun's head.
"Let'er go, y'slimy scum-sucker," she growled. "Or I swear I'll rip your throat out."
Hun chuckled, a low, dark sound that rumbled against April's back. "An' how y'gonna do that, Sanchez?" His grip tightened. "Seems t'me I got all the cards now. Can't beat yer way outta this one."
April paused in her struggling, watching as Spike froze. Only now did she take in the unsteadiness of Spike's form, the battered, bloodied remains of her face, the jagged scars torn into her cheek, the split lip, the swollen eyes, the broken nose.
She was unrecognizable. Broken. Almost...weak.
April had known her entire life that of course, Spike wasn't indestructible. She'd worried about her fighting, getting hurt, getting killed even.
Somehow, as the years had passed, and Spike had just gotten harder, tougher, stronger, the fear for her safety had seemed to fade, to the point where April wondered if she'd ever really worried.
Spike didn't get hurt. At least, not badly. She hurt other people, and she got stronger, tougher, harder.
Until now.
It was at this exact moment that April realized exactly how destructible Spike really was. And it terrified her, more than Hun's arm around her neck.
For a moment, April was back in the alley, shrinking behind Spike's back, listening to the threats of the Purple Dragons, helpless. Waiting for Spike to bail her out, to save her.
Hanging back, waiting for rescue had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
She had to do something.
She raised her leg, stomping her booted heel down with all her strength on the bridge of Hun's foot.
He howled. April jerked her elbow back, smashing it into his ribs and dropping her weight all the way. Hun's arm loosened from around her neck as he staggered, off balance, swearing.
The instant Hun's grip slackened, April dove.
She hit the ground, landing on her shoulder and hip. She grimaced at the bruising, clumsily rolling across the floor and coming to a stop against the curved wall.
Her head jerked up, vision falling on an object a foot from her: Spike's weapon.
The idea struck her like a thunderbolt. She reached out, desperately clasping her slim fingers around the handle.
"Spike! Here!"
She heaved, using all of her strength to roll it to Spike's feet.
April was out of the way. That was all that mattered.
Spike lunged blindly, snatching the handle of the weapon at her feet. She took a step forward, swinging with a snarl, eyes narrow, split lips twisted in a mindless rage.
The kanabō smashed into Hun's ribcage with a crunch.
He bellowed in pain, swinging the chain out, catching Spike's wrist again, yanking back as he staggered.
Spike pitched forward, dropping the kanabō, falling to her knees on the metal floor. She wrenched her arm, tearing the chain out of Hun's hand, whipping it towards the wall. She reached out, elbow hooking around Hun's knee. She yanked up, crushing the side of her bloodied fist into his abdomen as he fell to the floor, laughing uncontrollably, blood spraying from his mouth.
"Yer gonna die today, Sanchez," he taunted thickly. "When y'mess with the Dragons, y'get the fangs. We'll kill ya, jus' like we promised." He turned his head, fixing her with that manic stare. "An' then we'll kill yer friend."
"SHUT UP!"
Blood spurted from Spike's busted nose as she roared, throwing all of her weight on top of Hun. She smashed her knee down, pressing into his broken ribs. The Dragon hissed with pain, fighting to buck her weight off as Spike dug her hands into his straight, black hair, yanking upwards. She smashed her forehead into his nose, ignoring the sharp burst of pain that radiated from her skull.
Crack!
Hun howled.
Spike spat, a spray of blood and saliva splattering on the Dragon's face as she reared back, driving her fist down with as much force as she could muster, once, twice, a third time, over and over again. Her meaty left hand knotted in the collar of his sleeveless shirt as her fist collided with Hun's face. Her knuckles split open, chafed red. She was shouting, cursing him, the Shredder, the Foot Clan, the Purple Dragons, herself, throat scraped raw. Hun's face cracked open and bled, bruising darker with each blow.
She couldn't hear anything over the rushing, crashing thunder of her blood through her veins, through the hatred of this monster who had dared to try to harm April.
Someone was screaming her name.
The Foot robots fell around her, taken down by shadows in the corners of her vision. The voice grew closer, more distressed.
Something touched her shoulder from behind.
Like a reflex, Spike's hand released from Hun's shirt. Her head snapped around, eyes sharp and hard. Hun collapsed, limp to the ground. Spike's fist raised, teeth bared.
April didn't realize she was crying until she felt the wet on her cheeks as she shoved herself from the ground, screaming Spike's name, that Hun was down, that she was killing him.
The last robot hit the ground in pieces as April finally reached Spike, grasping her shoulders, trying in vain to pull her off.
Spike whirled, fist raised, snarling, almost animalistic.
"Spike," April gasped. It wasn't a scream anymore, but a broken whisper, heart hammering in her chest. "Please."
Spike's swollen eyes widened, hands dropping, open, burst at the knuckles, into her lap. "April." Her voice was hoarser than usual, scraped as raw as her hands.
Fresh tears pricked the backs of April's eyes as she blinked, trying to clear her vision, taking in what was left of Spike's face. Her hands lifted from Spike's shoulders, shakily tracing her fingertips over the torn threads dangling from two ugly gashes, torn into Spike's right cheek.
She couldn't think of anything to say. There wasn't anything to say, no way to channel the thunderous rush of words, exclamations, half-formed sentiments crashing through her mind. Her chest loosened, her fear dissipating.
"What happened to you?" she whispered.
"Y'aren't supposed to be here." Spike muttered. Her fingers knotted in April's shirt as she stared, almost blindly, into April's face. "Y'were supposed t'stay safe."
"I had to find you." April's voice trembled. She threw her arms around Spike's shoulders as more tears brimmed over, streaming freely down her cheeks and wetting Spike's neck.
Spike gripped the back of April's shirt. "You shouldn't have come here, it ain't safe. April, y'have to get outta here, now-"
There was a horrifically unsettling note of fear in Spike's voice, something April had only heard once before. April realized with a start that Spike was shaking uncontrollably, muscles trembling, heart pounding against her chest faster than April thought possible.
April pulled away, staring into Spike's pale face, eyes dialated to the point where black swallowed the grey almost completely.
April had seen Spike rattled before, mere days ago. But somehow, the desperate urgency in Spike's voice when they were first chased into the sewers seemed a distant memory, diminished in comparison to the tone filled with sheer terror now.
She raised her slim hands to cup Spike's bruised, square jaw. "Spike, what happened?" She forced her voice to stay firm, to remain steady as she searched her friend's battered face, fighting to stay calm.
"The Shredder," Spike murmured. She reached up, clasping her own calloused hands around April's wrists. "He killed Burch, April, an' he wants to kill you too, d'ya understand? You have t'get outta here-"
Spike could barely focus on the words spilling out of her own mouth, scraping at the back of her throat painfully. She shoved herself to her feet, releasing April's wrists.
April wasn't supposed to be here. She shouldn't be here. Over and over again, her mind repeated what she already knew, increasing in volume, in desperation.
Spike craned her neck, glaring at the security camera fixed in the ceiling. "Listen, y'have to get outta here. 'F the Shredder finds out you're here, you're dead. Y'gotta find an exit t'this thing-"
"The only way I'm leaving is with you!" April shook Spike's hands off, stepping away. She frowned, an eerie echo of the disapproving looks she'd give Spike before a fight. "I can't believe you! I spend two days worried sick about you, looking for you, afraid you were dead, I find you, and you're hurt, and you're still trying to pull the overprotective act on me?!"
Spike's head snapped down, eyes flashing, nostrils flaring. "April, this ain't over protective anymore. Shredder's tryin' t'kill you, d'ya understand me?!"
"And he'll kill you too!"
"Not if I kill 'im first!"
April jerked back, expression changing in an instant from disapproving to shocked. "You can't be serious!"
Spike fell silent.
The memory of searing agony slicing through her cheek rose to the front of her mind, as blazing-sharp as it had been when it first happened. She grimaced, turning away. "Y'don't know what he's like," she grunted. "What he's capable of. He's a monster. An' I gotta stop 'im."
"Hold on, sister. If you think you can take on this Oruku Saki guy, you're nuttier than I figured."
Spike's head jerked up. She whirled, eyes narrowing, fists and jaw clenching as her hazy vision focused on the reptilian figure before her: one of Hun's monsters.
Her imagination's conjured image of a ferocious turtle-monster dispatched quickly, replaced by this short, bright green figure. He raised a scaly eyeridge, a mild look of interest on his face.
"Hello? Am I coming through?" He tapped the side of his head, near the red bandanna wrapped around his head. "Can you hear me? I said you're dead meat, Rambo. You may look tough, sure, but this guy was good enough to stand up to our Sensei, who, in case you hadn't noticed, just saved your life."
Spike's shock faded rapidly. Her teeth ground, jaw tightening as she took a booted step forward. "Yoshi," she barked. "This one of yours?"
"Raphael." Hamato Yoshi's voice had a stern edge to it as he stepped forward, serene and dishevelled. He turned to Spike. "These are my students." He gestured at the mutant standing before her. "You have met Raphael."
"Charmed," he remarked, folding his arms across his chest. "Listen, I don't care how tough you think you are, but let me tell you, you won't stand a chance."
Spike's lip curled in a slight snarl.
April stepped forward, grabbing at Spike's shoulder. "He's a friend. They all are. They promised to help me find you." The sharp, warning edge in her voice was unmistakable.
"Yeah! I'm Michelangelo!" An orange-masked turtle, nearly identical to the first, bounded to Raphael's side, a grin spread across his beak.
"And I'm Donatello." A purple-masked turtle waved from April's other side, pulling a Foot soldier head from off of his staff. He pointed at one more, a blue-masked turtle. "That's Leonardo."
The turtle nodded, bowing solemnly. "Ms. Sanchez. It is an honor to meet you at last."
Spike stopped short, staring at the group in stunned silence.
So these were Hun's turtles from the rooftop. These were the dangerous, monstrous warriors that the Shredder was so worried about.
They were kids. April had been under the protection of children.
Spike's jaw clenched further, thick, heavy eyebrows drawing together as she turned away from them, staring at April. "They brought you here?" she grated.
April frowned, raising her chin defiantly. "I brought me here. What was I supposed to do, just wait for you to come back? Give up on you?"
Spike spun, drawing herself up to her full height, towering over April. "You were s'posed t'stay low!" she thundered. "T'stay as safe as y'could! Instead of walkin' right into a trap!"
Spike's head was pounding, heart in her stomach as the words tumbled out, past her control. Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end, waiting for another battalion of troops, or the new mutant creations, or worse, Shredder himself. Her stomach roiled, the familiar tendrils of pressure compressing her chest and ribs.
They didn't have time for this.
"Of course it's a trap!" April shouted back. "But I couldn't leave you here! Look what he's done to you already!"
Leonardo stepped forward. "We don't have time for this," he said evenly. "Now that we have Master Splinter, and you have your friend, we need to get out of here. Donatello, can we get out the way we came?"
Donatello shrugged, glancing up and down the hallway. "I don't see why not. If we're followed, I can rewire the doors again."
"Leaving so soon?"
The rich voice thundered through the corridor, echoing off the walls. Spike whirled, shoving April behind her as she craned her neck, wildly staring at each of the open doorways. Her heartbeat skittered, stopping for an instant.
No. Not now.
"Oruku Saki," Yoshi breathed. "He is here."
Thank you guys so much for reading! Please let me know what you think in a review, it really helps me write, and I hope to see you all in the next chapter! Stay healthy!