A yellowish mist flowed past the entryway into the cell, followed by a familiar green figure wearing a transparent gas mask. April's heart leaped as Mikey sprang down towards the door, his eyes wide behind his mask.

"Mikey!" April gasped. "Thank God!"

"Mikey," Don said weakly.

"Never thought I'd be involved in a jailbreak," Mikey said, brandishing one of his nunchaku. With all his strength, he brought it down to bash at the locking part of the door.

April flinched as he hit the door twice — three times — four times. The metal bent and deformed with every hit, and on the sixth hit it finally crumpled away from its frame. Mikey grabbed the bent metal and slammed the door open, but stopped short as he saw Don on his knees, limply leaning against April, his eyes half-closed.

"What the shell happened?" he gasped.

"They injected him with a paralytic," April said desperately, looping one of Don's arms over her shoulders. "He can't move."

For a moment Mikey seemed to take in the sight of his brother sagging almost to the floor, his usually mirthful eyes suddenly serious and dark. Then he dashed forwards and seized Don's other arm, hauling his brother almost effortlessly alongside him. "Can you stand up, Don?" he said earnestly, leaning down as Dons head fell against April's shoulder.

"Can't…" Don groaned. "Can't move my legs."

Mikey responded by moving in front of Don, squatting and pulling his brother's arms around his neck. The paralyzed Turtle collapsed forward on his carapace with a faint exclamation of pain, but Mikey simply looped his arms under his brother's knees, pulling them up to his hips. April gently moved Don's head so that it was resting comfortably against Mikey's shoulder, trying to keep him from being jostled as he was carried.

His dark eyes opened again, looked at her with that strange, indefinably sad expression. Her fingers trembled against his face, and she quickly moved behind Mikey as he carried his brother out of the cell.

"You just hang on, Don," Mikey said over his shoulder. "We're gonna get you out of here. The Battle Shell's just outside."

"Good," Don murmured. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic was real bad," Mikey said, joking weakly.

It wasn't particularly funny, but April saw a wan smile cross Don's face — more relief that his brother was there to make bad jokes than actual amusement.

She placed a hand on Don's arm, feeling the scrapes from the rough concrete and the bruises from the Dragons' fingers marring his smooth skin. He looked so broken — so worn, so ragged— that she ached to hold him again, now that they knew that the worst was behind them. She wanted to drive that haunting sadness from his eyes, but she knew nothing she could do ever could. And the feelings of guilt came flooding back.

They moved swiftly into the cavernous space beyond the door — an old warehouse with high steel shelves packed with crates and boxes, like most other warehouses. Only the contents of those shelves were on fire — columns of flame licking their way to the ceiling, dropping bits of burning wood and cardboard to rain down on the people below.

And there were a lot of people below. Purple Dragons brandishing whatever weapons they could get their hands on — guns, knives, chains, clubs — and charging in waves at their enemies. They had to step over the bodies of other unconscious Dragons who had already been knocked out and left to lie on the floor.

And judging by the faint yellowish tinge of the air and the familiar stench of the gas grenades, April could tell that someone had tried — unsuccessfully — to gas the Turtles into unconsciousness. She tried to breathe shallowly, just in case enough of the gas lingered in the air to cause unconsciousness. Of course, if the gas didn't get to her, then the fumes of the burning crates and boxes probably would.

Then April felt her heart swell as she saw three other familiar shapes moving swiftly through the warehouse — Casey was there, savagely beating his way through a throng of Purple Dragons with a bat in one hand and a hockey stick in the other. He wasn't particularly restrained when he fought, but he was practically wild now. Leo was racing through the room with his swords out and a fiercely intent look on his face, easily knocking through any Dragons who were stupid enough to get in his way. And Raph…

April felt her heart contract as she saw Raph. He was standing in front of a massive hole in the warehouse wall, smoke billowing around him as he snarled and gripped his sai. And standing not too far in front of him was Racer, holding a rocket launcher, his grin wide and gleaming as madly as his eyes.

"Leo!" Mikey shouted.

April tore her eyes away from Raphael's battle, even though she wanted to scream at him to be careful. But she knew that yelling would only distract him, and he couldn't afford that.

Leo was racing towards them, his face strained and his eyes wide as he saw Don draped over Mikey's shell, his limbs hanging limply and his eyes almost closed. He placed one of his hands on Don's elbow, and was rewarded with a faint twitch and a flicker of Don's eyelids. "Leo," he breathed. "You guys finally came for us…"

"What did they do to him?" Leo said, anger rising in his voice.

April almost spoke, almost blurted out what Racer had done, but a spasm of pain crossed Don's face as Leo spoke. His eyes widened, turning towards April, and she saw pleading in their depths. He didn't want her to tell them what the Dragons had done to him — not yet.

She reached out and grasped his hand, and gave him a tremulous smile, showing him that she understood. She wouldn't tell anyone what had happened to him — it was for him to speak of, or not, whenever he felt it was right. His face relaxed slightly as he saw her expression, and she felt a brief swell of warmth inside her chest at bringing him a little peace amidst all the pain and chaos.

"He's been injected with a paralytic drug," she said quietly to Leo. "He can't move. It'll start wearing off soon, but until then…"

"I understand," Leo said grimly. "Mikey, get him into the Battle Shell. I'll try to get Casey and Raph before the ceiling caves in."

"Before the — ceiling —" April said faintly.

She looked up, and her blood turned to ice water. A long, thick crack had formed in the ceiling overhead, almost perfectly dividing the concrete structure. Smaller cracks were forming on every side of it, with gray dust sifting down as they grew longer, wider, and even smaller cracks spiderwebbed out from them. As April watched, a chunk of concrete fell from the ceiling and landed with a loud crash, smashing to pieces.

Her eyes fell to the walls below the crack — they were riddled with cracks as well. A massive hole had been opened when the Battle Shell had smashed through one of the walls, and Racer's rocket launcher had opened up a few more not too far away. The entire structure was destabilizing, and April didn't have to be an engineer or a construction worker to know that it was going to fall soon. Her stomach clenched in fear, as she looked back at Casey and Raph.

"Come on, April!" Mikey said, nudging her. He hefted Don higher on his back and carried him swiftly towards the Battle Shell. Don groaned softly against the back of his brother's neck, and received a pat on the knee. "You're gonna be okay, bro. We're taking you home."

April felt her heart lurch at Mikey's assurance. He didn't know what Don had gone through — didn't know that it would take more than going home to make him all right again. Her hand clamped around Don's again, as she followed Mikey into the waiting Battle Shell. She just hoped that Casey, Raph and Leo were all right.