Raph complied with the gentle pressure of April’s hand on his shell, letting her steer him along, walking ahead of Mike and Shadow. He kept his gaze on the floor - not because he was afraid of meeting the stares of any soldiers they might pass, but because his natural coordination was rapidly draining away with his stamina, and there was a very real chance he could stumble. They hadn’t gone far before he lifted his good arm and, with only brief hesitation, draped it around April’s shoulders. Raph was stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid, and without her support he knew he wouldn’t make it much farther. And even as he depended on her to help him along, there was affection and gratitude in the half-embrace. “Thanks,” he said softly. “For, you know. Gettin’ me patched up.” His hold around her shoulders tightened briefly in a way he’d knew she’d understand as a hug. “It ain’t the best reason for me to come by, but…’s’good to see you.”
His weary and pain-hazed mind didn’t pick up on the fact that he was in a familiar corridor until he noticed Shadow steering Mike off down a side hall that he recognized as the way to April’s room. He glanced back over his shoulder to watch them go, brow furrowing a bit in mild curiosity.
Raph stumbled a bit as April came to a halt, and he had to tighten his hold on her to keep himself steady. When he turned back around, he saw that they’d come to a halt in front of a door that had been left slightly ajar. April nudged the door open. The room Raph looked into was small, with a few crates and an unmade bed with rumpled blankets. A small cat bed was tucked against the wall near the head of the bed - it was clean and looked soft and comfortable, and it was obviously the newest item in the room. An achingly familiar orange ball of fur was curled in peaceful slumber on the cushion. But even without seeing Klunk, the room felt unmistakably like Michelangelo and Raph would know that feeling anywhere.
His arm tightened around April’s shoulders again, but this time it was due to surprise and dismay, and his voice shook from more than just pain as he stammered, “Wait…No, April…You can’t…I can’t stay here.”
Mike took a moment to devour the last of his cookie as he watched April and Shadow raise matching eyebrows at each other, and he couldn’t help but smile at the similarities between mother and daughter. As Shadow sidled up beside him and took his hand in hers, Mike returned her squeeze with a reassuring one of his own. At least the painkillers he’d taken earlier seemed to be kicking in now, taking the edge off the pain in his injured legs as he started to follow behind Raph and April. He remained quiet though, his attention split between getting himself to walk steadily at Shadow’s side, and watching Raph - and how he moved - with concern.
April looked to have Raph well in hand though, especially once Raph draped his arm across the rebel leader’s shoulders. They disappeared from view around the corner as Shadow steered Mike down the corridor heading to April’s rooms, and Mike felt a fraction of the tension easing from his shoulders. Out of sight, out of mind, apparently.
By the time they reached the old, battered couch in April’s main room, Mike was about ready to simply collapse. Only the weight of Shadow’s gaze kept him from giving in to his exhaustion. Instead, he carefully lowered himself down onto the worn cushions and settled back with a (mostly) theatrical groan before giving Shadow a cheerful grin. “Mission success!” he declared triumphantly.
Raph hugs were always gentle, delicate things, and somehow they never failed to take April by surprise. She smiled, softly squeezing him back.
“It’s not the best reason,” she agreed, her tone amused. “But I’ll take it. It’s good to see you, too.”
When they reached the split in the corridor, April shared a furtive look with her daughter. Shadow nodded sternly in lieu of the full-blown salute she probably wanted to throw, and she and Mike disappeared off down the corridor to April’s digs. The girl’s eyes drifted from her to Raphael, though, and lingered there until they were out of sight.
Worrying about that kept April preoccupied until Raphael faltered in the doorway, and it took her a second to absorb his stammered objections.
“I’m sorry, Raph,” she said sincerely; his feelings on the matter were obviously potent and she wasn’t about to dismiss them without sympathy. “But this is the nearest vacant room, and I’m not so sure you’re gonna make it to the next one.” She wasn’t so sure she’d make it, either - the renewed tightening of his arm around her shoulders and the burning in her upper back was a stark reminder of just how much a fully-grown mutant ninja turtle weighed. April was no weakling, but it was certainly more than a regular human adult.
“Nobody will bother you here, and … if it helps, this isn’t really Mike’s room anymore. Just a place for him to dump his stuff. Ah, no offence, Klunk.”
The cat was too deep in sleep to rise to her barb anyway. Not even a flick of an ear.
“Mike usually sleeps on the couch in my quarters.” April’s gaze became a little uncertain and unfocused as she added: “I can’t … actually remember the last time he stayed in here.”
There wasn’t a whole lot of physical support a twelve-year-old could offer Michelangelo, but Shadow liked to think she contributed moral support and navigational guidance. Both were pretty important, and she nodded to her mother that she could handle it.
Anxiety balled up in her belly when Raphael disappeared from view, though. Not even the lingering over-sweet flavour of cookie could take the sudden sour taste out of her mouth. Uncle Raph was hurt, and that was bad enough, but she hated looking at people’s backs as they walked away. All too often it proved to be the last she ever saw of them.
But she couldn’t let it distract from her mission right now. She squeezed Mike’s hand more fiercely, and when they got into her mother’s rooms he looked so tired she was afraid he was going to throw himself outright onto the couch, ripping open all his stitches in the process. But he was cautious, slow, and that told Shadow how badly he was really hurt.
He announced “Mission success!” when he’d settled. Shadow didn’t feel too victorious but she smiled at him anyway, fighting down the pang of worry. Alone with Uncle Mikey, she let some of her bravado drop - it wasn’t like she could hide anything from him anyway.
“I’m really glad you made it back okay,” she said seriously. She always had to say it. She had to make it clear how much she would miss him if he didn’t come back, because maybe that would reduce the chances of it happening, and with the powerful reminder of Uncle Raph hidden around the corner, that felt more important than ever.
Shadow hovered over the couch, taking the time to tuck a few displaced cushions carefully back into place around the turtle. She hunted for the blanket next … but no matter how hard she tried to focus her attention on the uncle in front of her, she couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting occasionally back to the door.
