The nightmare was over. April was safe.
That was all that mattered.
The sounds of the city rushed into her ears, car horns, sirens, the sound of a hundred thousand cars, the noise of the fireworks overhead as the ball dropped in Times Square. Spike knelt on the ground, leaning her weight on April's shoulder, head tipped up, staring glassy-eyed at the night sky, its brilliance dimmed by the lights of the city. She'd forgotten what outside felt like, looked like, even smelled like, the overwhelming sensations dulling the throbbing pain over every inch of her body.
Next to her, April was shaking, laughing through tears as she hugged Spike tighter, jostling her aching shoulders and ribs. She buried her face in Spike's neck, soaking the collar of her leather jacket.
Her jacket.
Spike started as her memory jolted, removing her arm from April's shoulders as something solid in her jacket pocket clunked against her sore hip.
The tape.
Spike's stiff fingers shot to her pocket, wrapping around the slightly battered tape-player. She drew it out of her pocket to hold up under the street lights, silently watching April's expression.
"What's that? A cassette player?" Donatello piped up curiously. His own fingers twitched, his eyes wide with curiosity as he studied it.
April's mouth fell open, eyes fixed on the object in Spike's calloused hand. For a moment, she was speechless, before she choked out: "You didn't."
"Shredder's confession." Spike's voice was hoarse, down to a near whisper by now, but her words were thick, heavy, final. She hefted the tape recorder. "Admittin' he sent the Dragons t'kill Burch. 'N you."
"I…" April's voice trailed off, her eyes shiny, her face wet with tears. "You got me my story." She reached out, slender, shaky fingers carefully clasping around the tape and gingerly lifting it out of Spike's calloused hand. "You saved my life…and then you got me my story anyway? It was this that got us into this mess in the first place! You could have been killed!"
"She's right, you know," Raphael pointed out. "This whole thing seems like it's a heck of a lot more trouble than its worth."
Spike's lip twisted in a shadow of a snarl, her swollen eyes narrowing as they fixed on the red-masked reptile, her hands balling into fists as she moved to stand, wobbling dangerously. Raphael met her gaze, staring right back with an equally harsh look.
"Raphael," Leonardo chastised. "We've held up our end of the deal." He raised his head, eyeing April. "Now you can keep your end of the bargain. He nodded at the two mutants trapped in the rhinoceros cage, now spending more time trying to stay out of its reach than shouting insults. "There you are, April. Two stories for the price of one."
"You won't mention us, right?" Donatello added.
April seemed to snap out of her daze, nodding as she craned her neck to look up at them. "Right. I'll just say that the Shredder was responsible for the thefts, and the killings…and the mutants." She nodded her head at the cage that trapped Bebop and Rocksteady. "I need to call the office. You guys had better get lost, just in case someone spots you." She smiled unsteadily.
"Aw, come on!" Michelangelo pleaded. "I wanna see what you do on TV!"
"Come, Michelangelo. April is right. We must take care to not reveal ourselves to the public," Splinter said, leaning on Leonardo's shoulder. "We trust we will see you again, April." He nodded at Spike. "And you, as well."
"Count on it," April said.
Spike raised her head, glancing at April through the blood-stained fringe of hair in her eyes, before slowly moving her gaze to take in the turtles and their rat master, nodding.
"See you on the news, April," Raphael called. He crouched, before springing, with incredible power, on top of the zoo wall, waving half-heartedly. "Catch you guys later. Y'know, you're not bad. For humans."
April laughed quietly, raising a hand to wave as Michelangelo joined him, followed by the others, ending with Splinter's steadier ascent, before they disappeared over the wall altogether.
In an instant, they were alone in the Central Park Zoo. If it weren't for the mutants in the cage behind them, Spike almost could have imagined that none of it had happened at all.
Maybe she could have, if everything hadn't hurt so much.
April turned to her, anxiously scanning her face as her fingers clenched around the precious tape. "Are you alright?"
No.
Spike nodded.
April's eyes studied her features, her empty hand raising to once again brush at the broken threads of her stitches, her busted nose, her split lip and the dried blood that caked all over the bruising.
"No, you aren't," she said softly. "I'll call an ambulance."
Spike shook her head with effort, grimacing at the feeling as her vision swam. "Get your story first," she gritted. "'S what matters."
"No." April dropped her hand, raising her chin in a familiar expression that now held a quiet strength that hadn't been quite as apparent before. "I almost lost you over this story." She held up the tape, her eyebrows knitting together. "It doesn't matter. Not as much as you do. I'll get that story…only after you get in an ambulance." She folded her arms across her chest. "Deal?"
Spike exhaled slowly, her fixed glower fading. She nodded, jerking her head. "Fine," she grunted.
April smiled for just a minute, taking a step back. "Sit down. I'll be right back."
She turned on her heel, taking off for the nearest payphone, glancing behind her every few steps as though to make sure Spike didn't disappear the moment her back was turned.
As April disappeared into a phone-booth nearby, Spike sank back to the ground, exhaustion setting into every fiber of her body. She barely had the presence of mind to realize when she was loaded into an ambulance, almost completely unaware of the medics' questions of where she'd gotten these injuries. She could vaguely hear April explaining that she'd been the victim of gang violence…
And after that, she couldn't hear at all.
The room was white, blindingly so, to the point that when she first opened her eyes, she was struck by the chilling thought that the rescue had been a dream, that she was still in the Technodrome.
That the nightmare hadn't ended.
It was only after hearing the beeping of the monitors, noticing the tubes and wires and patchwork that covered her body, that Spike realized that it was truly over.
"I've got to admit, honey, when April tried to tell me you were still alive, I doubted her. Poor thing's hunches haven't always paid off, you know? I wanted to believe her, sweetheart, it isn't like I wanted my best fighter out of the picture thanks to a fight that I set up, but still…to survive a Dragon attack, you must be more Unbreakable than I thought."
Angel's dark suit looked out-of-place in the hospital recovery room, but it was a welcome sight. Spike's sore eyes blinked, focusing on the cool, collected expression on her boss's face, before nodding stiffly, adjusting herself as she sat up just slightly.
"Besides, the scarring is going to look very intimidating, extremely distinctive. We'll be able to market that, you know, make it a brand. Spike Sanchez: The woman who took on the Purple Dragons and lived." Angel tapped a long, slender finger against her full lips. "You'll be bigger than ever, sweetheart."
"She doesn't have to be. Not anymore." April reached for Spike's shoulder on her other side, comfortingly clenching around the hospital gown fabric as she maintained steady eye-contact with Angel. "She's done enough. Look at her." April paused, her voice cracking. She inhaled, shaking her head and re-focusing her gaze. "She doesn't have to fight ever again."
Spike grimaced, swallowing dryly before shaking her head. "Yeah, April. I do."
April froze, the color draining from her face. Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening, as she turned, glancing down at her. "What?"
Spike's hands, cleaned and bandaged, clenched into clumsy fists as she raised her gaze, meeting April's. "I gotta fight again."
The redhead started, shaking her head, closing her eyes against the words. "No. Look at yourself. I can't let you destroy yourself any further-"
"It ain't endin' here," Spike rasped. Her abdomen ached as she forced herself to sit straighter, grimacing against the stitches in her shoulder and cheek.
"What do you mean?" Angel folded her arms, dark eyes studying Spike with an air of interest.
"I beat the Dragons an' lived. Makes me a target. Makes April one too." Spike focused her gaze on April, who refused to open her eyes. "Means I gotta keep strong, in fightin' shape. I ain't lettin' them scare me off. 'Sides, I gotta score t'settle." She turned her head, slowly eyeing Angel. "I'll be back into trainin' 's soon as I'm outta here."
Angel paused, glancing between the two. "I see." She shifted, for a split-second looking uneasy, before clearing her throat. "I'm glad you're alright, Spike. I'll see if I can get you a bigger cut of the next fight. You've earned it."
Spike nodded. Angel turned, inclining her head slightly in April's direction, before silently moving to the door, opening it, and letting herself out.
The room was left in silence.
"You can't fight again," April murmured. "I won't let you."
"You can't stop me." Spike shifted, wincing. She lowered her voice. "Shredder's still out there, April. Y'got your story, an' New York knows 'bout Bebop and Rocksteady, but he's still alive, an' he knows who you are, an' where you live." Her gut clenched at her own words. "An' he'll want revenge."
"You don't know that." April's eyes opened, staring, a pleading look in her eyes. Her own voice dropped to a whisper to match. "Leave it for the turtles."
"He didn't go after the turtles. He went after you. An' he nearly got you, too."
April's expression froze. "I know."
"He'll try it again."
April nodded, flinching. "I know that too." She reached down, grasping Spike's huge hand between her smaller ones. "But…" She bit her lower lip. "You could die. You almost did. Or worse, get turned into a monster like those mutants."
Spike shrugged a shoulder, rolling it. "Not if I got a fightin' chance." She raised her head, boring her stare into April's eyes. "Between us an' the turtles, we'll make it so Shredder can't hurt you, can't touch you ever again. We'll take care of him, but y'gotta let me learn how."
"Spike…" April squeezed her hands around Spike's, closing her eyes again and shaking her head against the words. "You don't have to prove anything. You know you're the only one I can count on."
"No. I wasn't."
Spike withdrew her hand, folding her arms across her chest and turning her face away. She could feel April's gaze on her now, fixated with morbid curiosity on the scars on the side of her face, the long, jagged, permanent reminders of the Shredder. For an instant, she was back on the Technodrome floor, clutching her face as her blood gushed onto the cold metal under her bruised hands. She fought against the spreading feeling of fear in her chest and gut, gritting her teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain in her face.
"But I'm gonna make sure that you can count on me," she muttered hoarsely. "I ain't gonna let this happen ever again. Shredder's goin' down, April. Whatever it takes."
The room was silent for a minute, the buzz of the hospital activities barely audible outside of the door.
"The Shredder's going down, alright," April said at last, breaking the silence. "But you aren't taking him down alone. We have the turtles now." She reached out for Spike's shoulder, hand clenching in the hospital gown.
Spike slowly turned her head, raising her gaze to meet April's again. "We?"
"We." April's chin lifted, a determined blaze to her eyes. "We'll take him down, Spike. Together. All of us." She smiled, a fierce, brilliant expression, equal parts brave and joyous. "The Shredder doesn't stand a chance."
Thank you guys so much for reading! The adventure will continue at some point, in Revenges and Rat Traps! If you liked this story, please leave a comment and let me know what you think! It means a lot. I hope to 'see' you soon!