Casey
Casey never once thought he'd be carrying bags through the sewers of New York, but he's not complaining. For one thing, it wouldn't do him any good and for another, it's for a really good cause.
He can't help but look around the lair as soon as he's let in. They've made some more adjustments to the place; it looks good.
"Here's Taylor's stuff," he announces, putting it down.
"Thanks, Case," Mikey mumbles.
Casey frowns. "You OK, Mikey?" Stupid question. He clearly isn't. In fact, nobody in the lair looks OK and even if Casey hadn't been taught to read the room, he'd have noticed it.
It's too quiet. Everyone's far too subdued.
"Guys...what's going on?"
He waits for Raph to say it's none of his business, but he doesn't. In fact, he's never seen Raph looking so small before - and small is the last word he would use to describe any of the boys.
April, Splinter and Leo are talking quietly somewhere, and Donnie's concentrating on his work.
"Hey, do you know if there's a game on tonight?" Casey asks.
Without saying anything, Mikey changes the channel on the TV. He silently holds out a can of Orange Crush; Casey takes a seat next to him and takes the drink, thanking him. Moments later, Raph joins them.
Casey doesn't always know what to do or say when his friends are feeling down. Sometimes the best thing to do is just sit with them.