"What?" April breathed.

"You heard me, Red. We want to watch you fuck that freak, that animal," Racer said, that grin slicing across his face. His eyes glittered with amusement at her expression, then moved almost hungrily across her features as he took in her reaction.

"But I — I can't — " April choked.

He tilted her chin up, silencing her with a grip on her throat. Her breath came in a broken gasp as he ran his thumb over her lips. "You can, lady. And you're going to," he whispered, sounding almost gleeful. "If you don't, I'm gonna have to instead. And I'll be rougher with him than last time." He eyed the cell bars with a thoughtful air. "Maybe I'll put an old pipe inside him this time, nice and deep, and we'll see if he screams for that."

"No — " April said desperately. "Please don't…"

"Then you better get to work," Racer hissed, stroking her face in a mockery of affection. His fingers tangled in her hair as he dragged her face forward, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Now."

He jerked her head back, forcing her to stagger a few steps backward as he released his grip on her hair. April felt her stomach churn as she regained her balance, and for a split second she thought that she might just throw up. This… this monster had raped her best friend in front of her, twice, enjoying the Turtle's misery and pain as he did so. And now he was demanding that she do the same, or else he would hurt Don even more.

As she walked unsteadily through the cell, she felt a hot surge of anger building inside her at what Racer had done — what he was making her do. She had no choice. If she didn't, then Don would suffer even more than he had before… and she couldn't let that happen. She had to protect him from the worst of it.

He was waiting for her, his eyes filled with relief as he saw that she was all right. But then that drained away, replaced with uncertainty as he saw her expression.

Hot tears pricked April's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Don," she said. "We have to do this."

Then she slid her hands into her worn shorts, sliding them easily down her legs and stepping out of them. Don stared at her in bewilderment, his eyes wide as she crawled towards him on the mattress, up over his legs. When she stopped moving, her legs were straddling his hips and her hands cradled his face. "I'm going to make this as easy as I can for you," she said quietly. "Just — let me do the work."

He stared up at her, his eyes still wide. April was pretty sure that he knew what was going on — after all, the Turtles had access to Mikey's movie collection and the Internet, and Splinter had probably told them at least the basics of sex education. But he looked as though he was completely confused by what was happening to him, as if he couldn't believe it.

April leaned down and pressed her lips to his, running her fingers over the hard muscles on his arms. She couldn't protect him from the fact that this was happening at all. But she could try to make it as "normal" as possible for him — caressing his body, kissing him, treating him like a lover rather than a victim, trying to make the experience as pleasant for him as it could be. She could do that much, even though she couldn't do anything more.

She just hoped he was able to respond to her. His body had been flooded with a paralytic — he had been raped — he was being watched by the Dragons — it wouldn't be surprising if he wasn't able to perform. But she didn't want to think about the possibility, and what Racer would do if he couldn't.

When she drew back, Don's plastron was heaving as he breathed hard, his eyes still fixed on hers.

"April, please—" he said hoarsely.

She plunged into a desperate kiss, silencing him with her tongue and her lips. She could feel tears leaking from her eyes as those two words wrenched at her heart. She was hurting him — hurting him to try to save him from further pain. But she forced herself to keep going, running her hands over his broad shoulders and chest, over every inch of his smooth plastron, down to his muscled thighs beneath her, stroking his skin with her fingertips as he began to clumsily reciprocate the kiss.

And she could tell that her kisses and her caresses were having the intended effect. She could feel something pressing between her legs.

"That's right," she murmured against his face. "You've got it now…"

She kissed him once more, gently curling her tongue against his, even as she let her body sink forward to mold against him. Her hips arched downward towards his, sending warmth surging through them both.

"A-April," Don whispered, "I don't — I d-don't — "

But his words trailed off as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gripping the edge of his shell and drawing him close to her body. His weakened arms clung to her back, as if he were in danger of drowning and she was the only thing keeping him afloat. April could feel him breathing against her throat, and she quickly slipped a hand behind his neck to guide his head towards her shoulder.

As he rested against his forehead against her shoulder with a groan, she made sure his gaze was turned towards her, away from the line of Purple Dragons watching them. The last thing he needed was to be reminded that they had an audience, that this mating was not because of love or desire, but because a monster was forcing them to.

"Don't look at them," she said as softly as she could. "Look at me. Look at us. Think about us."

"I'll — try," Don whispered.

Racer laughed then — a cold, cruel laugh, which echoed throughout the cavernous cell. "I think the freak likes it," he sneered. "Keep goin'."

April thought that she had never hated anyone as much as she hated Racer at that moment — for what he had already done to Don, and what he was forcing her to do to him. Her grip on the Turtle's shell tightened, and she bent her head to whisper to him — incoherent, comforting words, telling him that everything was going to be all right.

He trembled and gasped as he slid into her, and despite the paralytic April could feel his entire body stiffening. "That's right," she whispered, caressing his cheek. "Exactly like that…"

"April," Don gasped. "I…"

"Don't try to speak," she murmured, covering his mouth in another kiss. She was trying her hardest to ignore how much her body was enjoying this — enjoying Don — and felt shame bubbling up inside her whenever she remembered that he didn't want this. She hated that she was feeling pleasure from it, from something that could only hurt her dearest friend.

She began to move against him, gently at first, keeping his body solidly pressed against her. They swayed gently together as she kept murmuring to him, tried desperately to distract him from what their bodies were doing. She could feel tears trickling against her throat, and hated herself even more for what she was doing to him.

"You're okay," she whispered, cradling him closer as they moved together. "You're okay… everything is going to be fine…"

His breath was coming in short gasps now, and occasionally he uttered a muffled moan. She could feel his hands gripping at her T-shirt with renewed strength, even as she pressed feverish kisses against his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead, and especially his mouth. He made a noise between a sob and a moan as she moved her hands along his heaving sides and chest, stroked at his neck, ran her fingers over his carapace. She felt another wrench of sadness and guilt, and the horrible feeling that Don would never forgive her for what she was doing to him.

"A-April," Don gasped, his body heaving. "April — I — I —"

Then she felt his entire body stiffen and tremble again, deep inside her, and a faint cry of "Ah!" came from his lips. The quivering continued for only a moment, but April held him gently until his body stilled, pressing her lips against his face.

He opened his glass-clear eyes at last, looking at her with a strange expression she didn't recognize. It was as though his heart had been broken, but he had accepted the pain instead of being consumed by it.

That expression in his eyes sent another spear of pain through April's heart, and she could still feel tears tracking down her face. It felt selfish, but she wrapped her arms around him once again, holding him close, cradling his head against her, knowing that she might never have the chance to hold him again… that he might hate her for what she had just done…

Then she felt fingers digging into the back of her neck, and a vicious snarl reached her ears just as she was yanked violently away from the Turtle's body.

"No!" Don cried hoarsely, reaching a trembling hand toward her.

Fingers tangled themselves in her hair, pulling her head back as she was flung back down to the concrete floor. She found herself staring up into Racer's livid face, his teeth bared and eyes blazing.

"Slut," he snarled.

"Y-you made me—" she gasped.

"You weren't supposed to like it," Racer said, planting one of his hands on her throat, pinning her down.

April choked, her fingers locked around Racer's wrist as she tried to push his hand away. Her eyes flew to Don, who had somehow fallen on his hands and knees, and was trying desperately to crawl towards her, but was only shaking and jerking spasmodically. Racer squeezed harder, and black spots began to dance in front of April's eyes.

"Racer," a voice said from outside the cell. "Enough."

Suddenly the pressure was lifted from her throat, and April scrabbled away, coughing and gasping. She crawled towards Don out of instinct, wrapping her arms around him and crouching at his side.

Dragon Face was standing outside the cell, coldly surveying everyone inside it. "You've had enough fun with the prisoners," he informed Racer. "He's about to arrive."