Someone knocked loudly at the downstairs door.
April stiffened, and slowly looked in the direction of the sound. For a moment, she stood unmoving beside the counter, wondering if she should answer it. Her heart was beating wildly, and she could feel her hand closing tightly around the broom in her hand, as if reassuring herself that she had a weapon if someone tried to harm her.
Another knock sounded as she approached the side-door. She jumped slightly, and then crept closer, ready to race upstairs if it wasn't someone she knew. "Who is it?" she called.
"It's Casey," a familiar voice called.
Relief flooded through her, and she immediately opened the door. "Hi, Casey," she said with a weary smile.
"I see you gotcher door replaced," Casey said, stepping inside. He glanced at the front of the building. "New windows and front door, too."
"It's costing me a lot," April said with a sigh. "But the Purple Dragons really did a number on my place. The repairmen are supposed to fix my upstairs windows tomorrow."
It had taken a few days to sweep up all the broken glass and the furniture the Purple Dragons had smashed — when the police had let her back into her apartment, she had found her living space littered with shards of glass and chunks of splintered wood.
The antique store had gotten the worst treatment. Some of the Dragons had apparently decided to trash the place just for the joy of destroying things, and April had felt her heart sink when she had stepped past the shattered door and saw what was inside. The cash register had been emptied, of course, but the Dragons had left piles of broken china everywhere, broken the front window and door, crushed some pieces of furniture including a beautiful antique armoire, ripped apart books, and upended everything inside a box or drawer. One of those animals had even gouged holes in the walls with a knife.
"You must have really gotten on their bad side, miss," the police officer had said.
"Yeah," April had responded, wrapping her arms around herself. "At least it's all over now."
The cop had given her a funny look for that, but she had been enduring funny looks all morning, ever since Raph had dropped her off at the police station. She had told them a highly abridged version of the truth — that the Purple Dragons had kidnapped her and held her hostage in a warehouse, and that she had managed to escape just before it had collapsed. She had left out that Don had been there with her, and that she had only escaped because the Turtles and Casey had come to save them.
Of course, the police had asked plenty of questions, ranging from "How did you get out of the cell?" to wondering why she was wearing Raph's too-loose, too-short pants and shirt ("A friend picked me up and let me stay overnight"). But she was fairly certain she had been able to half-lie her way out of it, especially since the police had already checked out the burning rubble of the warehouse, with several wounded Purple Dragons attempting to escape.
"Well, we did a number on them," Casey said, pounding a fist into an open palm. "They won't mess with you again after what we did to 'em. The ones that are still alive, that is."
April smiled. She wasn't entirely confident that that was true — the Purple Dragons were far too large and aggressive to be taken out by one attack, or even several coordinated attacks. And she hadn't felt secure ever since she had returned home — there was always the creeping awareness that she was vulnerable, that someone could abduct her again, or even kill her, before the police could arrive.
"So… why are you here?" she asked. "Were you in the neighborhood?"
"I came by 'cause Raph's real concerned about you," Casey said, settling on a rather battered couch.
"About me?" April said blankly. She couldn't imagine why they would be focusing on her instead of on Don. He was the one who needed all their care and attention right now.
"He said you were lookin' kind of worn-out, and I see what he means," Casey said. "Plus, Leo said you hadn't opened up your shop all week. That ain't like you."
April's fingers clenched around the broom handle, and she suddenly became very interested in sweeping a few stray fragments of porcelain from the floor. Casey watched her patiently, waiting for her to speak again.
What Casey was saying was the truth. For the past week, April had barely stirred from her apartment — the only exception had been a few visits to the Turtles, whose lair felt safer than her apartment right now. Most of the time she remained at the shop, waiting for the moment when her stomach wouldn't churn at the sound of a knock at the door. Waiting for every broken window and battered piece of furniture to stop reminding her that thugs had broken into her home and dragged her out.
"I just… needed a little time to myself," she said quietly, resting her chin on the broom handle.
"Hey, I get it," Casey said, putting a hand on her arm. "Being kidnapped by the Purple Dragons like that — it messed you up. Anybody'd be the same way if it happened to them. You needed to retreat into yer shell and get better."
"Thanks, Casey," April sighed. She sank onto the couch beside him, still clutching the broom.
"You might wanna go round to their place again, though," he said, sounding too casual to have planned it out. "Right now they're all worried about Don, so they could probably use the moral support."
April wavered slightly. "How — how is Don doing?" she said quietly. She wasn't sure what to expect, but if they were all worried about his well-being, the news couldn't be good.
"He came out this morning, but he looked pretty rough. Leo was sort of pullin' him out. And Raph said that he wasn't eatin'."
April felt her heart twist at what she was hearing. The last two times she had been to the lair, Don had been hidden away in his bedroom, and his brothers had informed her that he had barely emerged since the day after his rescue. The news that he wasn't eating was even more alarming. But at least he was coming out of his room now… maybe he was improving.
She thought back to when she had last seen him — his wan smile, his dimmed eyes. He had seemed so quiet, giving little indication that of the pain he must have been suffering — quiet, except when he heard that she was leaving the lair. She felt a stab of guilt over her own tears and feelings of fragility — he had comforted her and cared for her, when he had been the one who was truly suffering.
"I'm headin' over there," Casey said, breaking through her thoughts. "Do you wanna come too?"
April took a shaky breath. "Yes. Just give me a minute."
She dug around in her pocket for her car keys, and gripped them so tightly that they cut into her fingers. "I'm going," she said determinedly.
Casey grinned at that reaction, as if he had been waiting for her to say those words. He sprang to his feet and rushed out the door, followed by the roar of a motorcycle engine coming to life.
As she climbed into her van, April gritted her teeth and thought of Don as she had last seen him while awake — when he had pulled her to him, held her and dried her tears. He deserved no less from her now, and she was going to make sure that he received it.