Chapter 47: Return

April's fingertips tapped across her laptop's keyboard—a continuous, repetitive tick that filled her otherwise silent apartment. Why did she bother? Melody's Shell Cell had been one of many that were handed over to Michelangelo before her group entered Oswald. Not to mention the frequency Donatello had her scan for was nowhere in range.

'She's either jammed the signal or left Manhattan. Given the mess left behind? Maybe it's best for now.'

The redhead glanced from the kitchen table into the living room. Leatherhead's massive form overwhelmed her sofa, but the stout leg he propped against the coffee table left a clear view of the television. Sound would be pointless for the current Channel Six News story; April could speculate what May Fields' over-voice commentary added to the aerial shots from the Earth Protection Force Headquarters.

The place was devastated. And catching an earlier segment revolved around Melody's assault on Hunt left the redhead leery about the raw power said cyborg harbored…

"Eep!"

April's chair scraped against the wood floor as she stood, straining to hear another yelp. A faint shuffle lured her upstairs and her pace quickened down the hallway when she noticed her bedroom and spare bedroom doors were open.

"Nia? Splinter? Kaiya?"

"K—Kaiya's asleep," a weak voice answered.

"Nia!" April rounded her bedroom doorframe, stopped only by the body collapsed beyond it. She withheld a sigh, glancing at Splinter wrapped snug in her bed, and then knelt to help the young woman. "You shouldn't be walking. I'll take you back to the spare—"

"Splinter," Nia whispered with her head ducked. "He's right there. I—I have to see—"

"He's recovering, Ni. Like you should be. Now"—the redhead settled the artist into a sitting position by the doorjamb—"how are you?"

"Fine."

April flashed a look when Nia started fiddling with her long, dark hair.

"Okay," the artist conceded. "Sore. Tired. Hot."

"And your ribs?"

Nia's hand twisted her hair—perhaps overwhelmed from the memory of Melody breaking them. "They feel normal."

"So they healed." April's tone was sour and since she couldn't care less if others knew about her disagreement with the cyborg's tactics, she frowned.

"I guess. It's my eye that stings, but—ah!"

"What?" April cried.

Her stomach jumped at Nia's high voice, yet settled as the younger woman held up her hands. Kinked strands of hair were tangled between her small fingers like she had used them as a brush in the shower. It seemed harmless until the redhead noticed the amount.

"Wh—why's my hair falling out?"

"It may be nothing. Stay calm." April turned around to switch on the ceiling light. While a poor substitute for sunlight, she searched Nia's hair anyway, holding up its frayed ends with a groan. "Honey?"

"I don't like 'honey's when they're said that way."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Your hair looks like it was exposed to a dryer for a day. You're gunna have to cut it."

"Cut?" Nia spun so she fell on her butt and gawked.

"Don't cry."

"I've been growing it my whole life!"

"You might like it shorter."

"No!"

"Well, it's just gunna keep falling out otherwise." April smiled as the artist sniffled and raised hand towards her reddened cheek. "Maybe the shock at Oswald did this. That…that was surprising power."

Nia blanched. "Healed my ribs and fried my hair?"

"Ribs are more important. Maybe your IgRs can prioritize."

With a huff, Nia watched April's hand fall then slid the hairs off her hands. She began to ball them up, scowling, but stopped when her face twitched.

"You okay?" April asked.

Nia rubbed her left eye socket. "It's been bothering me ever since I got up. Must have something in it.

"Let me see." April lifted Nia's chin towards the light. "Look right."

Nia complied, albeit with a flinch. The tiny veins around her eye were swollen, so the irritation made sense. What confused April, though, was the dark shade of her iris.

"Nia."

"What now?

"Your left eye is brown."

"Brown?"

April crawled the short distance to her dresser then pulled a hand mirror off its top. She handed it over, watching for the artist's reaction. Nia fingers prodded the puffed flesh around her eye, pulling it up, down, and sideways as if that would make it blue-green again.

"My body's done weird things to me," said Nia, flat.

April chuckled..

"But—but not to Splinter-san, right? H—h—he's okay?"

"You're okay," the redhead countered while taking back the mirror. "You just changed a little in appearance."

"What about everyone else? Why was Kaiya with me?"

"That's a matter we'll address when the others return."

"Return from what?" The ceiling light dimmed, flickered, then dimmed further. "Y—you mean Mikey and Raph? Where're they?"

"Ready to come home, I'm sure."

As if reiterating her point, the phone rang, returning brightness to the bedroom. April sent Nia a 'told-you-so' grin before standing. A cordless phone often loitered on the dresser, so she answered it after checking the caller ID.

"You guys have good news, I take it?"

"For once?" Raphael snorted and his voice sounded choppy from a high-pitched whine in the background. "Don 'n I are headin' back. Found Mikey. He's takin' a helicopter an' we need ya ta meet him, if you can."

"A helicopter? Since when does Mikey—"

"Pink's flyin' it."

"Pink?"

The hothead groaned, which caused April's eyebrow to quirk. "Forget it. Since Doofus has yer phone, Don's gunna email ya the address. I know ya can't hear us well."

"Yell louder; maybe I will."

There was a pause as Nia's head cocked. "Don wants ta know if ya've found Mel yet."

"No." April sighed. "She's off the grid. Sven, too."

"Kuso. Heard anythin' about Hugh at least?"

"He's at the hospital for his injuries, but"—the redhead grimaced, using the dresser's face as a brace—"everything's such a mess. We can only pray his testimony holds up."

"Yeah," answered Raph in a voice almost lost to the background noise. "He needs some relief. Poor guy deserves it."

"He certainly does."

"Alright; Don's tellin' me I need ta get off the line. Guess I'm responsible for keepin' him from landin' in Jersey."

When Donatello's garbled retort mixed with the background whine, April snickered, gaze set on Nia's curious, mis-matched eyes. "Boat safely, you two. We're gunna have one hell of a family meeting when you return. Meanwhile, I have someone here who can keep guard in my absence."

Hugh's heart had never beat as hard as when he laid eyes on Marina. Not when a molten heat separated his hand from his forearm. Not when Blaine said Doughnut was responsible for clearing his name. Not even when he heard Noah and Donna were still in surgery.

All those cases paled in comparison to the woman's pensive stare and he twisted in his hospital bed, shrugging a blanket up towards his neck. "Hey, Rina."

The tan beauty licked her lips, saying, "B—Blaine called me."

"Did you come alone?" When his wife nodded, the detective leaned back on his numerous pillows. "I don't like you being alone. Never know who's watching. Or what could happen."

"Blaine and Jen went to pick up Kaiya. And I—" Marina wrapped her arms around her stomach, a habit which made more sense now. "How's your hand?"

"No longer attached to my arm." With a light laugh, Hugh held up his bandaged limb and hoped the stub wouldn't scare the woman away. "I asked the doc if I could embalm it or something. You know, like a trophy? He said I'd have better luck pickling it, but wasn't sure if you'd want a jar hanging around the house. Can I pickle my hand, Rina?"

"Idiot." Annoyance and humor broke Marina's low voice into a tremble as she hugged herself tighter. "Always joking at the worst times. You know…the doctor told me you've been starved and your hand isn't your only injury. I mean, look at your face!"

"What's wrong with it?" Hugh beamed in spite of his bad fortune. Drugs prevented him from feeling much pain, although he knew from experience that the swelling looked terrible. Not to mention his missing canine tooth.

"Where's the Purple Dragon punk who did this? I'll return the favor."

"Huh?"

"It's what some officers and a few EPF students say happened. A Purple Dragon shot your hand when you were helping them out of a classroom, right?"

"I was shot at, but to tell the truth"—Hugh's voice grew softer—"I did this damage myself. My hand, that is."

"Why?" Thin brows lowered, Marina hunched her shoulders.

"I had no idea what Raph and the others planned," Hugh started. He rubbed his wrapped stub arm, using its ache as a mental anchor. "I just knew it was my chance to escape. This was the cost."

"It shouldn't have needed paid! You're innocent. Bishop had no right to deny you food, and whoever framed you—"

"Will be exposed, if Doughnut pulls through. I don't care what praise he gets, so long as I stay out of Bishop's hands. I prefer your hands anyway." Hugh sent the tanned woman a jovial smirk, which pierced her glower.

Faltering, she crossed her arms then stood straight. "The system didn't release you."

"Is that surprising?"

Obviously not, since she huffed. "I hoped it would…for a few days, at least. Not a good way to start off June."

"Tell me about it."

"What…what made you desperate enough to risk becoming a fugitive, though?" Marina's tone shook with her question. "If you weren't released to help defend the students like others say you were then…"

"I had to get out," whispered Hugh—a pained action. "Bishop was pushing me into a tight corner, but I wasn't going to betray any one."

"Like the Hamatos?"

"He was pressing me for information about them."

"I see…"

"No, you don't, Rina. Despite that, I didn't escape for them."

Marina glanced up. Perhaps his assured words struck her as odd. Or perhaps she found them unbelievable. Either way, she stayed quiet and tentative in her stare.

"I had to get out for your sake," the detective added. "For our future. For…" His eyes lowered to her chubby stomach. Rina backed up in an instant, mouth agape as she met her husband's gaze. "I need the truth, Marina. I need to know if this"—he gestured with his left arm—"was worth it. Are you…pregnant?"

"How?" The woman struggled for air and ran a hand through her unruly hair while Hugh remained steady.

"Please, Rina. Tell me."

Tears preceded Marina's soft croak. They hindered what little strength she had left, drowning her reply in stifles. She wiped her cheeks several times before trying again. And when her voice failed her a second time, she sighed then nodded.

The truth settled in as Rina neared the hospital bed. She seemed scared that Hugh would push her away or yell, but he lifted his right arm, welcoming her into the open space beside him.

"I—I—I didn't want to tell you," she said through sobs into his shoulder, "because I—I wanted you to pick family without feeling obligated."

"But I do have an obligation."

Her sobs increased.

"Rina." Hugh combed his fingers through the woman's hair, so the wiry strands weren't stuck to her wet face. "I get it. You wanted me home more. Not just for you, but for our son."

"Y—you know it's a boy?"

"I learned a lot in that cell…"

"It's in you to help and do good, Hugh. A—and you know I'm proud of you, right?"

Hugh closed his eyes at the heart-breaking whine in his wife's tone.

"I married one of the most selfless men on the planet. But in giving out to so many others, you ignore the ones who are by your side."

"You weren't ignored, Rina."

"That's what it felt like!" Trembles strengthening, the woman added, "I felt trapped. I kept thinking if you had no time for me, what time would you have for a baby? Would you have the patience? Would you shift your focus? I—I—I tried so hard to see if you would on your own, with me as a reward, but…"

"Reward? What am I, a dog?" Hugh smirked, although Rina kept her head ducked. "I get lost in my work, I know. It's caused problems and that won't change. So…can we compromise?"

"Compromise for our child? Really?" Marina pulled back then puckered her lips. "You're unbelievable."

"So I've been told," Hugh countered with a smile. He hugged her close, despite her huff, and placed his arm stub on her stomach. The sight struck him like a punch; seeing what he lost next to what he gained was mindboggling. He also swore he felt her warmth below a palm that was no longer there. "Our lives have gotten complicated, Rina. If you're willing to adjust to that fact and return home, we can make this work."

"How complicated are we talking?"

Naturally, the tan beauty didn't skip a beat; she had probably assumed Hugh meant Bishop. So, resting his head against his wife's, Hugh rubbed Rina's belly. "More than I'm comfortable with. Still, we have allies who can help, if you accept them. And I promise: I'll do everything in my power to keep our son safe."

"You…you want him?"

"Of course."

"You sure you're ready?"

"Ready? Hell no. The idea still makes me want to hurl. But that's alright. What's another addition to the team? We're growing by the second."

"Team?"

"Okay; fine. Not team. We're more like a family, one that…I want you take part in it. You may not think it, but it's been horrible keeping you outside the loop. So…do you think there's any chance the Hamatos can be like the Williams to you?"

"All I ask is that I don't have to raise this boy alone."

"Don't worry," Hugh's smile rekindled as Marina snuggled closer, "this kid will get so much attention, you'll have to beat Mikey off with a stick."

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A/N: The healing process has begun. :D