As April walked slowly into the darkness, she looked around for some sign of a lamp. She had seen the lighted interior of Don's room in passing, during the time when she had lost her home and was forced to live with the Turtles and Splinter. But since she had been staying in Mikey's room rather than Don's, she had only seen it in passing. The main thing she remembered about it was that it had looked like a small lab, and had a loft bed with bookcases underneath it.

And as she moved through the dark, she felt herself brushing against lengths of thick paper, small piles of machine parts, and the occasional chair. Eventually, her groping fingers found the bell-shaped shade of a desk lamp, and after fumbling for a moment she found the switch. Light flooded the table it was sitting on, and crept into every corner of the room — including the corner where Don was sitting on a small futon couch.

Physically, he didn't look any different from how he had a week before — he was still stocky and muscular, and his olive skin wasn't any paler than it had been. But somehow he looked more ragged, more exhausted, more fragile. He wasn't wearing his elbow and knee pads or his knotted belt, which made him look somehow more naked, more vulnerable. She almost felt the urge to look away, out of a sense of modesty — which was ridiculous, since he wasn't any more nude than he usually was.

His mask hid the area around his eyes, but April had the feeling that dark rings had formed under them. His hands were loosely resting on his thighs, and his eyes were dimmed as he slowly looked up at her. "April," he said faintly.

"Don!" April rushed over to him and pressed one of his hands between both of hers.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here to find out how you were doing." She placed a hand on the side of his face, guiding him to look at her. "I was here twice before, but you were in here, asleep."

"I'm sorry…"

"You don't have anything to apologize for," April said warmly, squeezing his fingers. "But everyone's really worried about you right now. Leo — he said that you got upset, that he reminded you of Racer during training, and that drove you back in here."

Shadows seemed to shift in Don's eyes. "It's not Leo's fault. I know he didn't mean to…"

"I'm not looking for someone to assign blame to, Don. I'm saying that your brothers are really upset, because they know you're hurting right now, but they don't know what to do." Her fingers moved slowly over the smooth skin of his face, and she felt him turn slightly into the palm of her hand. "They want to help you."

Don's eyes drifted closed, and he let his head rest lightly against her hand. His fingers curled around hers, and she could feel him tugging lightly at her arm, drawing her hand closer to him. She let him do it — if he needed the closeness, the comfort of someone near him, she was going to give it to him. All he needed, and more. She gently stroked the side of his face, running her thumb along the edge of his face, brushing the soft skin near his eye.

"I'll be fine," he said faintly. "I just need some time alone."

"You're not fine," April said. "Don, please… I've never seen you like this before."

His head bowed slightly, and April felt his hand moving softly against hers, as if he were trying to wind her fingers around his thicker ones. She gently rubbed her thumb against the joint of his, and lightly curled her fingertips against his.

"Don," she whispered, leaning close to his face. "Please. Don't try to do this alone. We're all here for you. We all want to help you."

"I know…" he said, sounding as if he were in pain, his hand clenching around hers. "I know…"

His hand drew hers closer still, until her palm was pressed lightly against his plastron. She could feel the dull throb of his heart against her fingers, a steady, comforting sensation. For some reason, April was grateful that he did that — it was a welcome reminder that for all he had suffered, Don was still with her. He was alive. He had survived what had happened to him, and Racer and most of his followers had not. And she and his brothers would find a way to make him whole again.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Sorry? For what?"

"I couldn't protect you. I wanted — I would have done anything to keep them away from you, but I couldn't. I failed."

April felt her heart twist at the quiet misery in his voice. "Don, you didn't fail," she said softly, gently stroking his face. "You protected me."

Don swallowed hard, slowly shaking his head. "I should have been able to stop them," he said. "If I had—"

"You protected me," April repeated, "and I'm never going to forget that." She clasped her hand tighter around his, feeling the warm flutter of his pulse beating in his wrist. She suddenly wanted to wrap him in her arms, tightly and soundly, and find a way to make him believe her — he had suffered more than enough without believing that he had failed her too. "And everything you went through — everything they did to you — none of it is your fault. It was all because of Racer."

"I keep dreaming about it," he said quietly, his eyes far away. "You and I are in the cell again, and — they're all there. And he's there. He's — hurting me — taunting me, telling me to scream or you'll be next. It doesn't end — it just keeps going on and on, until I feel like he's tearing me apart inside."

April's stomach churned. As if it weren't horrifying enough that Don had been raped and nearly killed by the Purple Dragons, he was still reliving the pain — the violation — the humiliation.

"And sometimes I dream about things that didn't even happen," he whispered, his eyes staring at something far away. "I — I dreamed about Racer raping you, April. And I couldn't stop him…"

"Stop," April whispered. "Stop…"

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as tightly as she dared, ready to pull back if he reacted the way he had with Leo. But he remained still as she held him, drawing him into her arms until his plastron was resting against her chest and stomach, his chin nestled against her shoulder, his cheek brushing lightly against hers. She could hear his breath in her ear, feel the beating of his heart in his throat.

And as she cradled him in her arms, her hands gripping the edge of his shell, she felt his hands moving up to slip past her sides and rest against her back. He didn't seem to know where to put them, and eventually he let them fall to the small of her back, pulling her ever closer. She shivered suddenly at the unexpected intimacy of the touch, feeling a warm, electric sensation spreading up her spine.

"April," Don breathed. "I just… I wish…"

He didn't say what he wished, but there was a lonely ache, a yearning in his voice that tugged at her heart. April turned her head slightly until her lips were pressed against his cheek, a silent reminder that he wasn't alone — that there were people who loved him.

And then she felt him move slowly but decisively, his face turning against hers until his lips were on hers.