Chapter Text
The truth is, no one really prepares you for the day you're told your life is going to change, and no one prepares you for the little moments after that. If anything, there's an expectation to accept these changes, as if they'll continue happening, whether you want them to or not.
April had thought she exhausted her bad luck.
That’s how she allowed herself to get distracted, to let her guard down and believe that everything had come to a standstill - long enough to let her breathe.
She thumbs at the messages on her phone, rereading old conversations with the lilt of a smile on her face. She’s yet to go to sleep, having gotten distracted by Casey’s insistence to watch a movie, and he’d only just gone home, after helping April clean up the mess they’d made of the kitchen as they tried to prepare snacks earlier in the day.
After the disaster that was the explosion of the microwave, because Casey apparently couldn’t make popcorn to save his life, Kirby had sighed and shooed the two of them out the door with ten bucks each to go buy food at the supermarket instead.
Admittedly, that would have been an easier route in the long run, but April can’t deny that she had fun, snapping photos of Casey’s frazzled hair and soot covered face, with her Father standing horrified in the background, all but an orange blur.
Food collected successfully, Casey practically dragged her into the living room and set her down. While she’d expected him to pick a movie out himself, he’d handed her the remote and did this nod of his head that said ‘go on’.
With all the power in the world in her very hands, and Casey’s apparent willingness to watch anything she desired, she settled on something that left him bawling by the end of it. She had shed her own share of tears, but through Casey’s distracted state as he wiped away his own, he didn’t notice her pulling out her T-Phone.
The tear-streaked images remain captured on her photo album, and she stares at the collection with a bubbly sense of happiness.
Despite the heartbreaking nature of the movie, she’d enjoyed herself. Even with the task of wiping down the kitchen counters after the movie had ended, with Casey there, doing his own cleaning, she didn’t find the chore so bad.
She refrains from sending the photos of tonight to her friends, with the likelihood that Irma was studying and would likely yell at her, should she interrupt, and April has a feeling the brothers are busy tonight. It’s been easier to make sense of her… Kraanginess… now that she understands how it works. Vaguely.
She just gets this feeling, and tonight, it’s telling her they also don’t want to be disturbed.
And Casey’s probably knocked out asleep by now, so with no one to talk to, April considers following in his wake. She’s pretty tired herself, but with her sleep schedule officially skewed ever since meeting the turtles, it’s practically impossible to sleep early nowadays.
Blinking against the glare of her screen, she goes through the messages again, smiling at the words before her.
She ignores the twist of her stomach, and the cold ripples of fear that tickle her spine. They’ve been bothering her all night, but surely it’s nothing.
She’s thinking too hard, she tells herself. Having gotten so used to danger and the feeling of being watched by people and creatures that want her dead, the idea that she can spend one night alone in peace bothers her more than it should. Her body’s telling her something’s wrong, but there shouldn’t be.
She’s safe.
She’s safe.
And she falls asleep like that, buried in her blankets with her phone at hand. Turned away from her window, she never notices the blinking eyes in the darkness, or the gentle hiss that comes from outside.
So when she next wakes, her phone buzzing violently in her hand, April near launches herself out of bed. She’s drenched in sweat and the unease has returned tenfold, leaving her reeling from the panicked thumping of her heart, threatening to slam and break her rib cage.
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she picks up the phone before it could go to voicemail, fumbling through the shaking of her hands.
Part of her wishes she never had woken at all.
“April?” Raph’s voice calls out, and she could tell immediately that something was urgently wrong.
For how long she’s known the turtles, her perception of ‘bad’ has since been warped, as with everything. From the existence of mutants and aliens, to frequent kidnappings and the existence of an enemy clan that has tried to kill all of them too many times to count. ‘Bad’ is never truly bad.
Until it is.
“Raph?” she says after a moment of silence. It grounds him on the other end of the line and she can almost picture the way he shakes his head and scrunches his snout as he refocuses his attention.
“There’s- something happened with Leo. An accident.”
April’s pounding heart stops.
“What? Raph, what- what accident?” Something inside of her tears. Her heart, or her very soul. Something tender and it hurts, yet April knows next to nothing, so why?
She hears him swallow thickly on the other end. “I-It’s best if you get here as quick as you can,” he rushes out to say. “There was an accident with some mutagen. Leo- he…”
April steels herself and presses on, even when her heart begs her not to. “What happened to Leo?” She’s surprised by her own ability to keep composed, but she’s wearing thin by the second, and something tells her that it won’t be long before all of it falls away.
A shuddery breath. A shaky exhale. “He got mutated, April.” Raph’s voice breaks. “Shredder mutated him.”
No one talks about the moment the world stops spinning. when ringing is all that can be heard, and dread wraps around brittle bones like tendrils of a haunting future coming to cement itself to fate.
No one talks about the momentary heartache that's immediately replaced by a guttural scream, so choked and filled with pain, that it erases any feelings at all. Until all that's left is an empty shell, still crying unbidden tears, waiting for the tidal waves of grief to return. Whether those waves will bring her back to shore, or drown her, April doesn't know.
She's suspended in that single moment still, waiting and waiting, wondering if it's too late to turn back time.
No one talks about that.
And as April focuses on the coldness of the tears sliding down her face, she realises why.
There's no words that can truly bring justice to such pain.
Pain that's so blinding that it stops hurting at all. and then it comes back, and it comes back worse.
Why would anybody want to talk about that?
Not even she, once this subsides, will ever want to bring this up again. Not when the threat of a crushing weight looms overhead. It will kill her, surely. She doesn't think she'll be able to endure such pain a second time.
Still, she'd felt this before. When her father had been taken from her too many times to count. When her mother had left a gaping hole in her life when she was too young to understand.
And now, she believes this is the last time she'll survive this.
Because how could the world take her precious Leonardo? To be so cruel as to steal a beloved brother from his family? To have him not gone, but lost. And oh, that is so much worse.
Because lost paves the way for hope.
Hope is a dangerous thing. But regardless of that fact, April clings onto it like a lifeline, because the waves can and will pull her down until all around her is an endless expanse of darkness where no light will ever reach.
“I-” she starts to say, but really, there’s nothing that comes out.
“Just come to the Lair. Please.” April had already begun shrugging her coat onto her shoulders to stave off the oncoming Winter cold; Raph needn’t ask. The desperation, however, is what powers her to force herself into overdrive and snap out of the state of detachment she’d previously been in.
Rushing out the door, she shakes her Dad awake. He blinks blearily at her, eyeing her pinned up hair and zipped up coat, but the moment she shoves her phone in his face, a brief explanation typed up on the screen (because her throat is a mess of clogged words), he’s getting up too, pulling on jeans and a sweater for good measure.
With the unknown hanging above their heads, April can’t say she’s surprised to see Mikey already waiting at the nearest manhole.
Gone is the usual sunshine and happiness. His face is shadowed not only by the alley and the night’s gloom, but by this solemn darkness April can’t make out. He’s uncharacteristically serious as he greets them with no more than a wave, and his attempt at a smile claws at April’s heart, for his lips trembled before he let the smile fall.
Kirby seemed to get the hint, and didn’t push for answers as Mikey led them down the twisting tunnels the both of them knew like the backs of their hands. Still, that didn’t stop him from shooting April a look of worry, to which she could only mirror it in response.
They can make their way to the Lair with ease, and it was only every so often that the boys escorted her. She can handle herself just fine, and she felt a hundred times safer with her Father.
Mikey walks ahead with his hands hovering over his nunchaku, eyes darting back and forth between every crevice and hole, searching for a danger that isn’t there - protecting them, guarding them.
Mikey’s been scared before, downright terrified even, but he always managed to bounce back. But this, this is something that April’s never seen from him. It’s heavier than anything he’s ever carried, and along with the fear in his eyes, there’s flickers of sadness, and most notably, grief.
She doesn’t dare tap into his mind with her powers. It isn’t her place to pry, but she’s also scared he’ll feel her poking around in there. With Mikey in this state, she doesn’t exactly want to risk it.
Her Dad places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, yet even that wasn’t enough to ward off the disquiet.
They round the corner and enter the Lair, with Mikey abandoning their sides completely. Within a blink, he’s gone, and April hasn’t a clue which direction he headed, but that’s not what captures her attention.
While the Lair sometimes falls into lapses of silence, there’s something haunting about it this time round. The TV is off, and it never ever is. There’s only the dripping of water and the hum of the overhead lights that fills the emptiness. No sound from the bedrooms or kitchen, or even the lab, where the faint sound of tinkering can usually be heard.
There’s simply an empty nothingness, and it makes the feeling in April’s stomach go from bad to worse.
She shudders as she walks through the turnstiles, feeling like she’d just passed through a thousand ghosts, and pulls her jacket tighter around her. It doesn’t stop the goosebumps from creeping up her arms. Her Father follows obediently, having never felt as comfortable as her in the turtles’ home, and lets her lead the way.
Sensing a presence in the dojo, she peeks through the door frame, finding Raph, pacing back and forth in front of the tree. Sitting on one of the branches, curled into himself, is Mikey, looking even sadder now with his chin tucked into his chest. Further within the room is Master Splinter, who’s kneeling in front of Tang Shen’s altar.
Splinter’s ears flick as they walk into the room, and takes a few moments to breathe before he stands to greet them, a weariness to him that hangs heavy on his shoulders.
“Kirby. April.” He smiles at them. However, April can’t shake the similarities between Father and son, and how Splinter’s mouth also failed to produce a smile convincing enough to shake away the fear that’s already deeply embedded in her bones.
“Master Splinter,” her Dad says, moving to raise his hand but drops it almost immediately. His fingers twitch at his sides.
“They know,” Raph says, his voice gruff and thick with layers of emotion April can’t even begin to take apart.
Splinter regards his son for a moment before nodding. “Good. It will be easier to bear the news with our family together.”
At April’s questioning glance (because Raph had been watching them. He's always watching, even when he has his head down and doesn’t appear to be), Raph says, “Still waiting on Casey.”
“He’s awake?”
He snorts. “Call him enough times and he’ll answer.” Then he sobers, finally turning to look at her. “He’s as unserious as people get, and a total goof, but he’ll come.”
While their black haired friend has since sent numerous complaints to their group chat about losing well earned sleep, he’s also making his way over when he’s free to ignore their thousands of missed calls. He doesn’t have to come. He didn’t have to insert himself in a life of danger, but he did because he’s Casey, and he sticks by people. That’s who he is. So no matter how many times he groans and grumbles, he’ll be there anyway.
That’s why his complaints mean nothing when he enters the dojo minutes later, concern lacing his features as his gaze drifts between the Hamatos and O’Neils, not at all reflecting the Casey that had been spamming them as he made his way down.
He doesn’t crack a joke, nor does he smile. “What-” His voice fails and he shakes his head. “What happened?”
He knows, of course. They all do.
Leonardo was mutated. It wasn’t hard to wrap their heads around such a simple explanation. And yet the puzzle pieces have yet to fit together in a way they’ll be able to comprehend.
Three heads turn expectantly to Splinter.
He breathes deeply and beckons for them to seat themselves by the tree. He takes his place at the base whilst turtles and humans alike situate themselves in a semi-circle before him, legs crossed or tucked as they settle in silence.
Mikey attaches himself into Raph’s side, letting himself get squeezed by the arm that wraps around him. April’s stomach flips once more, feeling the gentle bleed of emotions breaking through their mind’s defences.
She glances at the altar, where Tang Shen and her daughter remain motionless as they always are. She thinks about Leo, and what she’d do if his photo made its way up there, next to them, never to move or smile again. Never to greet her or hug her or brush her hair in the way only he knew how.
That’s her brother.
The world has already stolen so much, and continues its treacherous goal to do so until she has nothing left. But she’s gotten her Dad back time and time again, found a family when she’d lost her own, and won back her humanity when the Kraang tried to take it. The universe would be a fool to think she’d let it take Leo too. Not without a fight.
“So you heard?”
A voice drifts from the doorway, and it’s Donnie who finally joins the group, looking worn and tired. There’s a stethoscope hanging from his neck and he’s rebandaging his wrist wrappings as he kneels next to Casey, not looking at any of them.
Although, from where she’s sat, April can see the redness in his eyes - either from crying or lack of sleep.
“Not much,” Kirby admits, to which Donnie nods tiredly.
“Shredder baited us with a trap. Dangled Karai over a vat of mutagen and threatened to drop her in.” He looks up then, red irises having turned a murky brown. “He would never. But what if he did? What if he was more twisted than we thought? We couldn’t risk that.” He drops his head again, now picking at his knee pads. “So we went after her and Leo freed her from the cage… But not without a price.”
A bitter smile takes form, an uncanny thing that didn’t fit with the grim atmosphere.
“It was meant for all of us. But I guess Shredder got what he wanted anyway. Just the one was enough.”
Kirby stiffens at April’s side. Casey joins him in a similar state, while April? April tries to block out the screaming in her head.
It’s coming from Donnie, his walls having crumbled long ago, leaving his thoughts and emotions running wild. His mournful cries crash into April like a howling wind, and she struggles against the intensity of the screams, hoping that she won’t get pinned under all the pain and sorrow.
Swallowing despite the tightness in her throat, April considers Donnie for a moment. He’s fidgety and just about edging on manic. Then there’s Raph, who’s fraying by the minute, and Mikey, who’s already lost the battle with himself, silent tears slipping down his cheeks.
“You’re saying…” April starts, but trails off as fear takes her once more. Her mind reasons with her, saying that if she avoids it, maybe it won’t come true. It’s not real. It can’t be.
“He fell.” Raph answers with a purse of his lips, blinking against the memories coming to roost. “He tried to dodge Shredder’s swing and fell.”
April winces at the imagery.
The selfishness of the Shredder…
What if he’d aimed wrong? What if he got Karai instead? If Leo hadn’t been there…he’d have lost the one he calls his daughter, the delusional madman. And then what? Blamed Splinter and the turtles?
Rage bubbles from within at the mere idea.
But that isn’t what happened. The Shredder won and he claimed Leo as he’d claimed Karai. How many more Hamatos must fall to Shredder’s hand?
Taking her chances, April further prods the beast. Because while she hates to hear about it, hates knowing, it will destroy her if she doesn’t. “What did he…”
“Turn into?” Donnie barks out a laugh, which isn’t really a laugh at all. More like a disguise for the sobs rising in his throat. “A snake. A fifteen foot mutant snake.” He snaps out of his manic haze and regards them with startling clarity. “I’d stay home, if I were you. I fear he’s more dangerous than anything we’ve ever seen.”
“Whatever Shredder got Stockboy to do to that mutagen, it messed Leo up bad. He ain’t thinking straight. If he doesn’t recognise you, you’re toast,” Raph says through gritted teeth.
Donnie hums. “They tampered with it, and I don’t know how stable Leo’s mutation really is. I’ll need a sample, more than that, to figure out the proper components to make a retro-mutagen. But the important thing is, if we don’t find him soon…” He looks to his Father, regret and guilt nearly drowning him. “...We could lose him for good.”
A tense silence settles.
“I can help.”
Several voices protested before she could even get another word in.
“Absolutely not, are you crazy?” Raph roars. Mikey, still half hidden by his brother’s arm, is looking at her as if she’d declared her own suicide.
“No, April, it’s too dangerous.” Donnie narrows his eyes, deadly serious. “Now, don’t put words into my mouth and say I’m calling you incapable. I’ve seen you fight. You’re good, okay?” He waits for her to nod before continuing. “But there’s too much we don’t know about Leo. One thing’s for sure, that mutagen was perfected to give its subjects one order: to kill. There’s no way of knowing if Leo will fight against it or has already succumbed. We just…we can’t take any risks.”
While reasonable, April juts her bottom lip out anyway, feeling her ears burn red. “I can track him down. I can keep him from losing himself!” She looks at her family desperately. “I can tap into his mind,” she insists.
“And then what? Pull up his memories?” Raph scoffs.
April glares defiantly. “Yeah. Sure. And much more if you just let me. I’m not stupid! I’m not gonna go searching for him, but let me help. When, not if, when you find him, let me know. Think of it as a…you know, push in the right direction. Don’t expect me to stand around and watch Shredder win.”
The brothers remain silent, and Kirby’s staring at his daughter, aghast and horrified. Casey’s impassive, but the steely gaze he’s boring into the side of her head tells her enough. They don’t trust her and they don’t trust Leo.
The brothers turn to Splinter.
The rat strokes his beard, brown eyes studying April as if she were a bug rather than his student. But when she tilts her chin up and presses her lips into a firm line, he relents.
“Leonardo is your brother,” he addresses his sons. “And April is family.”
The answer rings true in his words.
Though both Raph and Donnie are clearly against the whole idea, they drop the fight.
April knows she’s a great asset. She’s been genetically modified to start invasions and lead wars. Her very blood runs dark with alien power. It would be plain wrong to not put that alien power to use.
Slowly, Splinter stands, and the rest of them follow suit. “Let us rest,” he announces, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple. “We cannot work when we are tired. Sleep, and then plan.”
“But Sensei-” Raph objects, but a raise of Splinter’s palm has him snapping his jaw shut.
Splinter looks at his son with warm kindness, and pats his head. “We cannot go save your brother without a clear mind. Sleep,” he repeats, sterner this time. When Mikey yawns, Raph nods and hangs his head, accepting defeat.
Casey claims a spot on the couch, after Splinter’s suggestion that he stays the night. For as much as they hate to believe it, Leo’s attacks can be lethal. The blades having fused with his new form proved so. The idea of Casey walking home in the dark with a mutant snake on the loose was terrible in all ways it could ever be.
And that’s how April and Kirby found themselves hauling mattresses from storage into the dojo, also having been ordered to stay underground.
Donnie, in the meantime, went to activate security protocol, locking down the Lair for the night - and possibly for every night after this. The threat of Shredder still looms over the heads, for he’s yet to complete his goal of mutating all four of Splinter’s sons, and they’ve had one too many close calls already, with Karai almost leading Tiger Claw home - one of the many things April doesn’t think she’ll ever forgive her for.
Not to mention Leo stumbling across the Lair is too big of a risk. Does he remember his way back? Will he be waiting for them when they bring the steel walls back up?
That, April realises as Donnie drags his feet back to the lab, is something they’ll tackle when it comes to it. Exhaustion clings to their very bones like a stubborn scent. Splinter’s right; they won’t get anywhere like this.
The extra safety of the sealed entrances and the solid protection of the Hamatos is what brings Kirby down from his paranoid state, falling asleep within minutes of crashing onto his mattress beneath the tree. The stress lines on his forehead don’t disappear even after his soft snores fill the air, but that’s a given.
Leonardo meant a lot to Kirby, whether anyone knew that or not. But April knows how much her Dad feels like he has a debt to repay, for how many times the brothers have saved them, and how they opened their arms to April during his absence.
Leaving him be, and still too high-strung to even think about sleeping, April exits the dojo.
Her nerves feel like they’re on fire and the brush of her t-shirt against her skin makes her want to rip it into a million tiny pieces. She’s buzzing alight with tiny flickering flames dancing across her very being, and she doesn’t know how to put it out, or where to start.
Her energy’s sparking, threatening to spill and launch her into an inconsolable mess. She’s too wound up to do much of anything, and the tightly coiled wires that make up her skeleton threaten to snap with each movement. Her mind’s a mess of swirling energy that wants out, and it’s taking everything within her to keep from getting too emotional, lest she truly loses control.
Casey’s in a similar state, sitting rigidly on the bench with a white t-shirt replacing the one he’d pulled over his head on his way here. She sits down beside him, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. Frowning, she follows his gaze, finding the lab doors cracked open and movement inside.
From where they’re sitting, they can clearly see a figure on the cot.
Squinting, April realises it’s Karai. She reels in shock and hides her gasp with a cough.
Truth be told, she didn’t know the turtles’ had brought her home. She thought they wouldn’t have trusted her, after all she’s done, but then again, with the truth now revealed, there’s no reason she’d go back to the Shredder. Other than enact revenge.
But from what she’s been told, that worked out great last time.
Even still, she doesn’t know where they would’ve put her otherwise. If April had been the one in charge, she would’ve stuffed the girl into a stray sewer tunnel and been done with it. Of course, that’s why she isn’t in charge.
Even Raph, who probably hates Karai more than April, is kinder than he dares to admit, and would’ve brought her home too. He’d have fought against the prospect, but he wouldn’t put his relationship with Splinter on the line by abandoning his daughter.
Karai’s knocked out cold on the bed, looking more dead than asleep. Her skin is pale and clammy, and her hand is hanging off the edge, still gloved with armour. April wonders what’ll happen when she wakes up. Does she even know what happened? Does she know it’s all her fault? That if she wasn’t as blood-thirsty as her adoptive Father, then Leo wouldn’t be-
Casey’s hand on her back grounds her enough to see clearly again.
“She’s family now,” she croaks out.
Casey taps his fingers against her spine. “Yeah,” he mumbles, sounding no more pleased than April herself.
“I hate her.”
“Yeah.”
April clenches her fists, relishing in the sting of her nails. “I wish it was her.”
She feels Casey’s eyes slide over her hunched form. “You don’t.”
In that moment, there was only that damned ringing and the first threads of a migraine pounding against her head. She shuts her eyes tight, biting down on her bottom lip and dropping her head between her knees. “No, I don’t.” It comes out choked.
When morning comes, she wakes out of spite.
She will get through this day, no matter what.
In truth, she’s yet to fully process the severity of the situation, and the ache in her heart she can’t bring herself to face. Mikey had cried, and Raph looked close to tears all night, but April herself has yet to feel any emotion of sadness.
She’d felt anger, bitter fury she wanted to hurl at the Shredder (and admittedly, Karai). Pain for the gaping hole in her family that can’t be patched. And determination, mirroring everyone else’s, because giving up was not an answer.
But through all the miring emotions, there hadn’t been a hint of sadness. She’d come close to it, yes, with the tears and heartache, but she's not there yet.
Sadness meant acceptance. Not acceptance of the mutation, or Karai’s permanent place in the family, or the slim chance of making a retro-mutagen that would actually work - rather, the acceptance that Leonardo will not be given back to her. She doesn’t care whether he’s a snake or turtle, if he remembers her or not. She just wants her brother, and she won’t surrender him to the hands of fate if she can help it.
(Maybe some things are just too much to ask.)
School and sweaty teens and maths class isn’t the best distraction out there, but it’s one she’ll make do with for now. Forcing herself to study to keep her mind off everything is a bit of a morbid way to keep from flunking, but if it works, it works.
She’d be of no use to the team if she falls into a state of depression, as tempting as it sounds as she lugs her legs out from under the covers, so she forces herself to get changed and do her hair and makeup.
Casey, on the other hand, instead makes himself useful by making breakfast and joining Donnie in the lab to help tend to Karai. With Mikey barely mentally present and Raph struggling to hold it together as is, Casey jumped at the chance to help out. Besides, his presence in the Lair will hopefully lift their spirits a little. April knows it’s lifted hers; enough so that she manages a smile as she bids them goodbye.
Her Dad hugs her tight before she leaves, reassurances slipping through the gesture where words couldn’t.
The following days, even months, are going to be hard. No one’s denying that. But the world will keep spinning, and April will keep living and no one can take that from her.
Leo wouldn’t have wanted her to put everything on pause for him.
Raph accompanies her to the surface, sais gripped tightly and a scowl twisting his face.
The first step into the alley made her want to punch something. The second step even more than. She’s angrier than ever now, with the people of New York continuing on with their lives when her family’s has been turned upside down. But she reigns herself in, takes a deep breath and lets the anger wash over her.
Hopefully she can get through a full day without bloody knuckles. Knowing what lies ahead, that’s easier said than done.
Raph watches her walk from the rooftops, a ghost in her line of vision, flicking in and out of sight as she weaves through the crowds. His presence lingers until she reaches school grounds, and doesn’t leave, even when she’s inside.
She reaches her powers out to him as she sorts through her locker, furrowing her brows when she still senses him perched on the flower shop’s roof. It’s only when she’s sat at her desk after the first bell that Raph’s presence disappears entirely, like he was never there at all.
The likelihood of Leo showing face when the sun’s up is minimal, but that doesn’t stop the worry from piling like ugly sludge in April’s gut.
Now that she’s at school, she’s sorely regretting coming in.
She hadn’t wanted to fall behind on studies, and stubbornly decided to head topside, regardless of Donnie and Raph’s protests that she should stay underground until they track Leo down. While this seemed like a good idea at the time, perhaps it would have been better to let her mind rest, and catch up with everything that’s happened.
She’s tired. Sleep hadn’t been gracious to her. The jittery nervousness wouldn’t leave her alone, and she’d spent most of the night on her feet instead of in bed.
Now, all she wants to do is crawl under her covers and hide away. How is she expected to attend class and pretend that one of her brothers isn't missing? Double-mutated and lost? He’s not bound to New York; he could be anywhere by now. And that alone terrifies her, let alone the idea of finding him and seeing a stranger in place of the boy she once knew.
She can't do anything about the mutation, she knows that, but she also knows she'd feel better if she were down there instead of up here. Analysing literature is quite literally the last thing on her mind right now.
"Hey girl, are you okay?" asks Irma, and April has a suspicious feeling that her friend's been trying to catch her attention for a short while now.
She shakes off her daze and brings her attention to the black haired girl beside her. "Not really," she answers truthfully, because the bags under her eyes can't be hidden and she's still weary from rushing back and forth between the lab and the kitchen (because feeding Donnie was a task that took her mind off wanting to punch anything in her line of sight), leaving her looking hungover more than anything.
Irma tilts her head, regarding her for a moment. "What happened?"
April sighs heavily, dropping her face into her hands. "One of my...brothers...got sick. He’s not doing too good." She lets out a shaky breath. "I'm worried."
She’s been sugar-coating this entire thing for the sake of getting through the day without exploding, but now that she's thinking about it, she can't help but think of the worst case scenarios. Leo could easily be caught and experimented on. He’s a fifteen foot mutant snake, for crying out loud! What if the Shredder finds him first? What if he’s chained up in Foot Headquarters right now, with no one to save him, no one to hear his calls?
Does he know there’s a family searching for him? Is he avoiding home?
Or, what if he’s truly lost his mind? And he’s terrorising the very citizens he’s vowed to protect? Should he gain his sanity and remembers all that he’d done, he’d never forgive himself.
"Can't you take him to the hospital?" Irma's avoiding the 'brother' topic, thankfully, if only to be of help about the whole 'illness thing', but April feels a confrontation looming in the distance.
Her stomach twists at the mere thought. "They can't afford it. Their Dad's doing all he can, but he's not a doctor."
Irma hums sympathetically. "Oh. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? My aunt's a nurse, so maybe she can drop by and take a look?"
If the circumstances had been anywhere near normal, April would've agreed in a heartbeat, but the world is cruel and Leo’s not ‘sick’. He’s been double mutated into a creature made to hunt down his own Father. He went through a process April would never wish on anyone; she still remembers the way the mutagen burned her lungs, seared her skin and melted her from inside out.
While the pain subsided and she got out of there unharmed, Leo did not. There isn’t enough luck in the world for the both of them to have endured the same horrors and come out unscathed.
April waves her hand tiredly, yawning a little. "It's fine, don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of it."
A hand falls onto her shoulder and squeezes gently. She leans into the touch. "I'm here if you, or your...brothers, need anything. Just give me a call. I could ask my aunt for advice?"
She smiles at Irma. "I'll think about it. Thank you."
There’s no one human enough to put aside their differences to aid the family hiding in the sewers. April’s known that for a long time. Irma’s aunt is simply one within many. And April, being one in a few, is unsurprisingly, not enough.