The hours that passed were mostly quiet, except for the faint dripping of water from cracks in the ceiling. April listened mostly to the soft rhythm of Don's breathing, which soothed her frayed nerves. She kept their arms loosely entwined, their hands resting against each other's fingers, hoping that he could get some comfort from the contact even if he couldn't hold her hand. She felt his fingers tremble against hers occasionally, trying to touch her back.

April also rested her head on his shoulder, making sure that she didn't put too much pressure on it — he couldn't move away, and he might not tell her if he was uncomfortable. She found it comforting to rest against his body, her cheek against his smooth green skin. And she had the feeling that he found her presence comforting as well.

Every now and then she felt the muscles of his arm stiffen and flex, and heard him grunt softly as he tried to move. A tremor would run through him, and he would fall back on the mattress, still unable to move. Her fingers brushed against his, stroked them, tried to bring him some small measure of comfort as he struggled. She could hear his breath growing softer and more even as she did, which only made her want to do it more.

But then she heard two voices filtering from the rooms outside the cell — one of the voices she recognized as Racer's, but she didn't recognize the other man's voice.

"… only got one of 'em, and we made a deal for the full set."

"Relax, willya? I got one of 'em, and we can just get the rest later."

"It ain't that easy," the other voice said in a steely tone. "I've fought them before, and they're tough. They took out me and the other boys in no time, and not just once."

"Well, this one went down fast," Racer sneered. "A little gas and he was helpless as a baby. I bet the other three go down just as fast when I do the same thing to 'em."

"You'd better hope they do. If he doesn't get what he paid for, we're all gonna regret it. And he supplied the gas grenades, the paralyzing drug, even told us where we could find the freaks."

April felt her stomach twist into a knot, and her hand closed tightly around Don's. She could hear his breathing quicken at what he was "he" was, he wanted all four Turtles and was going to great lengths to obtain them — he had been watching them, giving the Purple Dragons the means to capture and subdue them. April still had no idea who he was — and as far as she could tell, neither did Don.

Racer scoffed. "You worry too much. Show him one freak as proof we can get the job done, and tell him we'll have the rest soon."

"Don't try to tell me what to do, Racer," the other voice said ominously. "When Hun's not here, I'm in charge. Remember that."

"Yeah, well, you won't be for much longer if he finds out what you've been doin' behind his back. He wants those Turtles for the Shredder."

The other voice growled. "As long as we get rid of them, it doesn't matter how."

April shivered, and turned her face into Don's arm. She felt his fingers tremble against hers again, trying to comfort her.

After that, the voice became harder to hear, meaning that the two men — she supposed the other one was Dragon Face — had probably moved further away. She released Don's hand and crawled to the furthest edge of the cell, but the two voices were still too muffled for her to hear.

Experimentally, she wrapped her hands around the steel bars and pulled at them. The prison cell looked like it had been made by the Purple Dragons themselves, so perhaps it had some kind of weak spot she could exploit. Of course, neither she nor Don were able to do much at present. Until he regained his strength, she couldn't get him out of this cell, and there was no way she was leaving him behind. Not now, not ever.

Don was watching as she crept back to the mattress on her hands and knees. His dark eyes hardened with determination as he began to tremble again, and one of his arms moved slowly towards her.

She caught his hand as it moved off of the mattress, and smiled. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I think so. It's — not as hard to move as it was before," he said, with an effort. His fingers briefly closed around hers, before relaxing again. "In a few more hours, I might be able to actually do something productive."

"Finally, some good news," April said, relieved.

His eyes met hers, some indefinable emotion swirling in their depths. "They're going to find us, April."

"I know they will," she said, hoping she sounded confident. Raph, Leo and Mikey were all hot on the trail — that much she was certain of. But it was a lot easier for them to track missing persons when they had Don's brains making everything easier, getting them past technological hurdles that otherwise would trip them up.

Maybe she was worrying too much. The Purple Dragons were powerful, but they were also street thugs at heart. She had no doubt that three of the Turtles could carve their way through the Dragons if given the chance, especially if Hun was nowhere to be seen. She just wished that she knew where they were — or more precisely, she wished the Turtles knew.

A small smile quirked the corners of Don's mouth. "You don't sound so sure."

"I'm just — I'm worried, with that guy Racer around," she said with a shiver. "He seems—"

Don's expression hardened, and the warmth in his eyes faded. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you," he said.

April squeezed his hand. "I felt the same way about how he was looking at you."

And she meant every word of it. He had looked at Don like a cruel child looks like an injured animal — something he could do whatever he wanted to, because it couldn't escape him. And his parting line about them both being "entertainment" still haunted her. She didn't want to even think about what that meant for either of them, and felt her fingers squeezing Don's even more tightly at the thought.

She had to believe that they would be rescued before anything happened to either of them. There was no other way for them to escape right now — no way to get out of this cell, no way for them both to make it out of the building.

"April," Don said suddenly. "Help me sit up."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I can do it. With some help," he amended.

April released his hand, braced her feet against the concrete floor, and slipped both hands behind his shell. As she pulled him towards her, she felt the firm warmth of his plastron rubbing against her torso, his breath rushing against her throat as he exhaled. His arms were still trembling, but they were able to hang on to her as they both moved him into a more upright position, with his legs half-uncurled across the mattress.

As he steadied himself, April found herself strangely reluctant to let him go. She wasn't sure why, but there was something comforting about feeling his arms — weakened as they were — against her, his warmth, the solid presence that she desperately needed right now. Maybe it was just that she was frightened, and he was reassuring.

But he grunted and let her go, pressing his hands against the mattress to hold his torso upright. April felt a rush of warmth in her heart at the sight. He really was improving — and perhaps when he had improved further, they could find some way out of this cell…

Then she heard someone clap behind her.

"Very impressive," Racer's voice said.