Fade

Chapter 14

By Dierdre

My thanks go out to Malachi Martial, for his patient ear and invaluable help with the end of this chapter. You’re the best, koishii!

Warning: This chapter contains a scene of graphic violence. Nothing too severe for the most part, but if you’re particularly prone to squeamishness then please try to avoid the second-to-last paragraph. Just trust me on this one, gentle readers. :)

I hope y’all enjoy!

I awoke disoriented, trapped in hot darkness with the smell of stale iodine burning the back of my nostrils. Shifting stiffly under the blanket, I groaned at the bone deep ache in my limbs before once again settling. I drifted for a moment in the cusp between sleep and awakening, my mind blissfully numb of feeling, until I was jolted into full consciousness by a slight metallic sound.

The events of the previous day all came back to me in a rush, and I felt my heart clench in a thousand unwelcome emotions. Growling lowly as the sound chimed again, I buried my head in the pillow and slid my hand across the bed. My fingers searched in vain for the familiar roughness of Leo’s hand, but encountered nothing except rumpled sheets and cold emptiness.

Suddenly alarmed by this, I pulled the blanket away from my face and braced my upper body with an elbow, my eyes screwed shut in defense against the fluorescent lighting. My dark-adapted pupils contracted painfully as I forced myself to blink, and for a moment the light was so dazzling that all I could see was white dotted with shifting flecks of red.

“It’s about time you woke up.”

I jerked at the unexpected voice, nearly falling backward as my elbow slipped, and it was only because I recognized the tone almost instantly that I managed not to yelp in surprise. Shielding my still-sensitive eyes with my good hand, I squinted into the brightness as a familiar form swam into focus. “Raph?”

“That would be me,” he said simply, his voice slightly distorted by the smoldering cigarette dangling from his lips. He was sitting in the swivel chair by Don’s worktable, smoke drifting about his head as he leaned intently over something I could not see from my reclining position.

“What time is it?” I asked thickly. I was so dehydrated my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth, and my thoughts were muzzy and seemed to be running at half speed. God, I would cheerfully maim for a cup of coffee right about now.

I heard that same curious sound again before he answered, “About six thirty in the evening. Give or take a few minutes.”

“Six thirty? But that would mean…” I rubbed at my aching eyes, my next words colored with disbelief. “No, I can’t have slept for nearly twenty hours. I’ve never slept that long in my life.”

“My guess is you needed the rest,” he replied, still not looking at me. “We both did. I’ve only been awake for a few hours myself.”

Struggling into an upright position, I leaned against the headboard, using Leo’s commandeered pillow as a cushion for my aching back. I yawned hugely and spent a few moments simply staring at Raph’s seated form, gratified beyond words that he was conscious and seemingly on the mend.

The mottled patchwork of blood that had decorated his plastron had been scrubbed away, and his injured arm was now held immobile by an old blue sling strung across the back of his neck. One sai had been wedged, pommel down, into the vise set at the edge of Don’s desk, and he was using his good hand to run a soft cloth over the sharp prongs. The pommel shifted slightly under his touch as he rubbed away the last flecks of dried blood, revealing the source of the mysterious clinking sound. His other sai was already in its accustomed place at his belt, the polished metal shining with the brightness of a silver dollar.

One can only take so much guilt and sorrow before the emotions transmute into something else entirely, and the sight of those familiar weapons was all the catalyst I needed. Watching the tip of his cigarette flame bright orange as he inhaled, I felt my eyes narrow of their own accord. “Put out the cigarette.”

He exhaled a lazy plume of white smoke before finally looking at me, one eye ridge raised in inquiry. “What?”

“You lost enough blood to paint my bedroom,” I snapped, “so put it out! You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Okay, okay! Yeesh, pushy broad…” He took one final drag and then dropped the cloth. Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he ground it out on the tabletop, creating yet another black pockmark on the scarred wood grain. Loosening the vice, he grabbed the weapon before it could clatter to the floor and slipped it smoothly into the loop on his belt.

Using the table for support, he levered himself to his feet with a grunt of effort and walked heavily over to the bed. Sitting down at my feet, we both winced when the bed shifted slightly as it took his weight. He was close enough now that the harsh overhead lighting could no longer hide the pallor of his skin or smooth away the lines of pain around his eyes, visible even through the mask.

Anger and remembered fear churned in my gut as I fixed my gaze on his bandaged arm, and I couldn’t stop myself from recoiling at his closeness. I lowered my head and drew my good leg closer to my chest, my heart pounding with the knowledge of what he had tried to do.

Raph’s eyes widened at my reaction, but narrowed just as quickly. “What’s with the cringing? I’m not the one who looks like hell.”

“Why did you do it?” I asked softly.

“Do what?”

My head shot up at his question, and I glared at him. “Don’t play games with me. You know full well what I’m talking about. Why did you try to kill yourself?”

He stiffened in surprise, his shoulders rolling back into a ramrod straight posture. “I didn’t. It was an accident.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said tightly. Uncurling from my hunched position, I leaned forward aggressively, my hands fisted in my lap. “If it had been a scratch, then I might’ve believed you. Hell, I want to believe you, but I stitched up those puncture wounds myself. I’m not stupid, whatever you may think. It looked like you tried to rip your arm off!”

“Damn it, April, I-”

“No! I know things are bad, horrible actually, but you’re not alone in this! You could have talked to me. I would have listened. I would have understood.” I paused and inhaled deeply, attempting to calm myself. Such a thing was impossible, however, when my whole body vibrated with ire, tightening the tendons in my arms so that I was unable to unclench my fingers.

“Didn’t anything I said last time get through to you? If you had died, then that would’ve been the end of Leo and me, too. You’re the only thing holding us together, Raph. We still need you. We still love you.” Equal parts fury and remorse swelled in my chest, making my voice rough. “God, how could you? How could you have been so selfi-”

I never got to finish my emotionally overcharged statement, for Raph had apparently had enough. His hand shot out with rattlesnake speed, and I felt the rough scrape of his callused fingers as they clamped firmly over my mouth. I let out a muffled yelp of indignation, my hands reaching up to pry his fingers away, only to pause as I was pinned beneath his amber-eyed gaze.

“You never did know when to shut up,” he hissed, his tone intense and as inflexible as granite. “I am telling you the truth. I needed to blow off some steam, so I was practicing my katas in the dojo. I had a flashback in the middle of a maneuver, and when I came out of it I found that I’d stabbed myself with my own damn weapon. I’m telling you, woman, it was an accident!”

A small flame of hope flared to life, burning away my dark emotions with unexpected light. I reached up and he allowed me to pull one of his fingers back, enough to permit a few intelligible words to escape. I felt childish, and my voice reflected that in its diminutive volume, but I had to ask. “Y-you promise?”

“Oh, fuck me… Yes, April, yes I do! I swear on the graves of my family that I didn’t try to commit suicide.” He dropped his hand from my face, his eyes flashing with fury and impatience. “There. Does that satisfy you?”

I nodded once, the tension draining from my body in a rush of relief so great it was almost dizzying. Abruptly surging forward with a swiftness that surprised even me, I wrapped my arms around his neck in a careful embrace. Ignoring the protestations of my abused body and the way he stiffened under my touch, I buried my face in his neck. “God, Raph, I’m sorry! I was just so scared. When I saw you lying there, I thought…”

He sighed, some of the stiffness fading away with that low exhalation, and wrapped his good arm around my back. “I know what you thought,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, too. That must have been a hell of a thing to see.”

I nodded into his neck, willing myself not to sniffle. Seeming to sense my need for physical contact, he let me hold him for a while in silence, before tapping my shoulder blade lightly for attention. “Hey, April?”

“Yeah?”

“You reek.”

I laughed a little at his matter-of-fact tone and pulled away, rubbing at my treacherously watering eyes. “I know, I know. That’s one of the hazards of sleeping in bloody clothes.” I plucked absently at the filthy fabric of my pajama top, before looking up and drawing my brows together. “Where’s Leo?”

“I left him in the den room. Hopefully he won’t try wandering into the dojo until I have time to clean up.”

His voice was mild and somehow strange in context, and it took me a moment to understand just what the difference was. The bitterness that usually colored his voice when he spoke of his brother was gone.

“Raph, about Leo...” I paused and shifted uncomfortably, debating on whether or not to tell him. This spell of indecision lasted only a moment, however, for I remembered well what had happened last time. There would be no more secrets between us anymore, at least not about this. “I don’t know if this means anything, but last night I was trying to get him to sleep, and he… he held my hand. It might have just been reflex, but I thought I should tell you.”

His lack of surprise seemed a bit anticlimactic, but he more than made up for it with his next words. Eyes lightening with secret amusement, he said, “I already knew that, actually. I had to pry your hands apart when I woke him up. He kept trying to hold on.”

“‘Hold on’? But, what do you..?” My tongue tied up abruptly and all I could do was stare at him in surprise, my eyes wide and demanding answers.

Raph seemed determined to remain enigmatic, for he merely bent over laboriously and plucked my leg brace from its cushion of bloodstained clothing. He set it beside me on the bed and stood up, rocking back on his heels for an unsteady moment. “Go take a bath, April. I’ll leave some of my street clothes outside the door.”

He walked slowly to the door and gripped the knob. Leaning heavily on it, the metal creaking slightly under the strain, he paused long enough to glance over his shoulder at me. “When you get through, come into the den. I have something to tell you.”

He left without another word, closing the door behind him and leaving me in solitude. I wasted a few seconds blinking bemusedly into the resulting quiet, and then shrugged as I began to cinch up my brace. I guess I would know soon enough.

Lacing up my shoes for such a short trip seemed more trouble than it was worth, so I gripped my sneakers in my good hand and remained barefoot, carefully picking my way through the smeared streaks of dried blood on the floor. I left the door open once I stepped out into the hallway, using the light to illuminate my halting steps.

Once safely ensconced behind the locked bathroom door, I lowered myself carefully down onto the lip of the bathtub. I turned the faucet, waiting patiently for the resulting gush of water to warm, and then plugged up the drain. Unbuckling my leg brace, I set it atop the toilet tank before wrestling with my clothing.

The thin material, soaked through in several places with watery blood, had dried overnight and was now clinging like scabs to large patches of my skin. I peeled the stiffened fabric from my body with some difficulty, hissing in discomfort when it pulled at the delicate skin on my upper left arm. Once fully undressed, I stared in disgust at the dark brown iodine stains on my arms and at the blood trapped under my fingernails.

I wasted no time wondering just what had possessed me to sleep like this, but instead eased myself over the lip of the tub and into the lukewarm water. The liquid sloshed as my body mass displaced it, little tongues of water lapping over the sides of the white porcelain, but I didn’t care. I was too busy sighing in bliss, my muscles practically liquefying as the water soaked into my dry, itchy skin.

The water wasn’t as warm as I would have liked it to be, but it was as hot as my scarred skin could tolerate. I made do, scrubbing vigorously to compensate for the lack of heat as the water around me gradually tinged pink. I then drained the tub and turned on the showerhead, sitting up with my eyes closed as water rained from above. The feel of fat droplets striking my shoulders and streaking down my hair was remarkably soothing, and it was only when my leg started to protest its immobile position that I found the energy to turn off the faucet and towel myself dry.

I crawled out of the tub in an undignified fashion and hauled myself to my feet, using the sink as leverage. Hopping carefully with my good leg and bracing myself against the wall, I opened the door a crack and quickly grabbed the pile of clothing. A complicated moment later, I was sitting on the closed toilet lid, fumbling with the oversized sweater as I fought to pull it over my head. Something fell with a clatter while I was still entangled in the red fabric, and when I reached down to pick it up it turned out to be my glove, wrapped securely around the blade of my kunai.

I slipped my hand back into the protective glove, which had been cleaned recently enough that the black fabric was still slightly damp. Smiling as the freshly polished kunai blade flashed like hematite under the light, I carefully stored the weapon in my sweater pocket and finished getting dressed.

Some two minutes later I limped cautiously through the hallway in my bloodied sneakers, feeling blessedly clean and trying my best not to breathe. Although the terror that had spurred my headlong flight through this darkness had dissipated, the slaughterhouse stench seemed to have grown in potency. Even bleach might not be enough anymore to completely banish the aroma of aged blood, which seemed to have penetrated the concrete like an infection.

I inhaled a deep breath of relief when I stepped into the comparative brightness of the den room, my nostrils expanding appreciatively when I detected the unexpected scent of coffee. My mouth watered almost immediately, my heartbeat quickening in anticipation of caffeine, and I shot an expectant glance towards the couch.

Raph was sprawled across the worn brown and tan cushions, his head pillowed by the armrest with a blank-eyed Leo sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. His own eyes were closed, his features slack and empty of expression, and for a moment I thought he’d fallen asleep. He soon proved me wrong, however, by raising his arm and waving lazily towards the only unoccupied piece of furniture, where a steaming cup rested on a nearby end table.

I approached the recliner with some trepidation, feeling almost heretical for even considering sitting in Master Splinter’s chair. But the invitation was obvious and I knew in my heart that Splinter would not have minded, so I lowered myself gingerly into the seat. Trying to ignore the wave of nostalgia that hit me at the familiar feel of the old leather, I stretched out my braced leg and reached for the coffee cup.

Raising the hot mug to my lips, I wasn’t able to stop myself from grinning as the steam rippled pleasantly across my face. It was an instant brand, not the hand-ground Columbian beans that I preferred, but right now I didn’t care in the slightest. It smelled like heaven.

I took a sip, sighing as the bitter liquid traveled down my throat and began to warm me from the inside out. “Thanks, Raph,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The chair was set at a ninety-degree angle from the couch, so I could clearly see Raph shake his head. “No, I’m not.” Mouth curving into a ghost of a smile, he pointed a forefinger at Leo. “But he is.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me, frowning a little when he saw my expression of utter incomprehension. “I meant that literally. Who do you think patched me up in the first place?”

I slowly set the mug back down on the end table, my hands suddenly unsteady from the implications of what he had just said. “I thought you did it yourself.”

“Nope. I was a goner. I could barely even move, let alone help myself.” Pausing long enough to push himself into a semi-upright position, he grunted slightly when the movement pulled at his wound. “It was all him. He followed me into Don’s room, made bandages and bound my arm, all on his own initiative.” His eyes cut over to Leo’s seated form, growing distant as he remembered. “He spoke to me, April, even smiled a little. And now look at him.”

Feeling surreal, like a person trapped in a waking dream, I blinked once and complied woodenly. At first glance Leo seemed no different, but as I narrowed my eyes and forced myself to study him closely I became aware of something remarkable. Leo’s hands were moving.

The action was sporadic and slight, but there was no missing the way his curled fingers flexed and then tightened around air, as if he were struggling to grasp something only he could feel. His gaze was still devoid of acuity, but his eye ridges had drawn together into a small frown, creasing his forehead in faint lines. It was the most expression I had seen on his face in a long, long time.

Raph seemed to be waiting for me to speak, so I swallowed hard and said weakly, “He seems a bit… twitchy.”

“He’s been this way ever since he woke up,” Raph said with satisfaction. “He’s fighting it now. Fighting it hard.” He turned back to look at me, and that same slight smile flitted across his face again. “Don’t you get it? You were right. It may take a while, but Leo’s coming back to us.”

I blew out a low breath and sat back, struggling to process what I had just been told. Studying Leo thoughtfully, I felt my stomach flip-flop in a peculiar way as my shadowed world suddenly shifted on its axis, turning a little towards the light. My mouth curved of its own accord, slowly stretching into a grin so wide it hurt. “Well, I’ll be,” I whispered. “The old lady was right after all.”

Raph shot me a curious look. “Repeat that?”

“Never mind. It’s nothing.” I reached for my coffee cup and cradled it in my hands, the smile still on my lips. That was one secret I would keep to myself for now.

Once I had drained the cup and gave the caffeine a chance to work its magic on my body, I left Raph dozing on the couch and spent some time puttering in the kitchen. I cleaned off the surgical tools and wiped down the counter and stove, before cutting up some vegetables and throwing them into a pot of light chicken broth. I was hungry and Raph needed something to help regain his strength, so a bowl of simple, nourishing soup was just the ticket for both of us.

I left it to simmer and once again braved the foul-smelling hallway, where I did my best to clean up some of the mess. Lacking the proper supplies I could do little about the blood, so I tried to ignore the rusty streaks beneath my feet as I fixed the medicine cabinet and salvaged what medical equipment I could. I then gathered up the dirty sheets, bloody towels and my ruined clothing, piling them up in the bathroom to be washed later. The dojo’s tatami mat proved to be a lost cause, stiffened and soaked through at the center by a large red stain, so I just rolled it up and awkwardly shoved it aside, where Raph could dispose of it once he healed.

Nearly an hour later, with a delicious smell filling the kitchen and spilling out into the den, I removed the pot from the burner and woke up Raph. Ushering him into the kitchen and leading Leo by the hand, I ladled up bowls of steaming soup for all of us. We then ate in silence, broken only when I had to turn away from my own food to coax Leo to eat.

I felt the presence of our absent family acutely during that meal, like ghosts that flitted at the corners of my eyes, promising me a vision of them if only I turned my head to look. This sensation was a familiar one that filled my heart with wistfulness and a little sorrow, but the black despair that it had once engendered was gone. For the first time since the explosion, I could think of them fondly and with the absence of tears.

It was amazing what difference a little hope could make.

Full from the meal and still feeling the consequences of his mishap, Raph once again passed out on the couch with Leo at his side. I was feeling far too keyed up by now to sit still, so I burned off some excess energy by systematically dismantling and cleaning the sink’s mountain of dirty dishes. Raph would probably be annoyed at me later for taking on the task, but it needed to be done. Some of those dishes had been sitting so long they had sprouted a healthy crop of mold.

Tired and a little sweaty from my exertions, but otherwise feeling accomplished, I wiped my water-wrinkled hands on a dishtowel and wandered into the den. I winced at the sight of the VCR clock, which sedately flashed the time in bright green numerals. Nearly ten o’clock already.

I was loath to wake him and debated on simply leaving a note, but I knew he would be livid if I left a second time without informing him first. And so, sighing regretfully, I leaned over the back of the couch and tapped Raph on the shoulder, backing away with practiced ease as he snorted and reached for his belt. The blood loss had rendered him sluggish, however, for he had only one sai half drawn before he realized what had happened. He relaxed and opened his eyes, frowning hard against the light, and looked up at me. “What?”

“It’s nearly ten. The last bus will be leaving soon.”

He blinked once before understanding washed across his features. Sitting up, he rubbed wearily at his left temple and said, “Tomorrow’s Friday, isn’t it? You have physical therapy in the morning.”

I looked down and flexed my gloved left hand, suppressing a wince when my abused joints protested the movement. My fingers were still lightly stained brown, a legacy left behind by the iodine I had used to sterilize my hands. I wondered briefly just how the heck I was going to explain the discoloration, but pushed aside the bemused thought in favor of answering his question. “Yeah. I have some things to do at home to get ready for it, so I have to go now.”

Nodding slightly, he levered himself to his feet and yawned, his good arm sweeping up in an expansive gesture as he stretched. His joints popped in muffled staccato bursts and he winced in reaction, dropping his hand down to grip the back of the couch as he swayed. “All right then,” he muttered. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready.”

He turned away and began walking towards his room, only to be stopped short by my hand on his shoulder. “No way, Raph,” I said firmly. “You’re not walking me to the bus stop, not in your condition.”

“Like hell I’m not,” he snorted, turning enough so he could narrow his eyes at me. “It’s too dark outside for you to go alone. I’ll be fine.”

And he did indeed look surprisingly well, especially for someone who’d nearly bled to death less than thirty-six hours ago. The guys had always been remarkable healers, and the food and rest seemed to have done Raph a lot of good.

Yet his skin was still too pale for my liking, and I felt uneasy about letting him walk back to the lair alone. Even in this weakened state I’d place bets against any thug stupid enough to cross him, but… “I don’t like it. What if you pass out or something? You’ll be easy pickings for any street gang if you do!”

“That ain’t going to happen, April. I’ve met my quota of stupid mistakes for the week.” His chin lifted in annoyance when it seemed I was about to continue protesting, and he cut me off before I could speak, “Just give it up. This is one argument you’re not going to win.”

He was right, unfortunately. His stubbornness had kicked into full gear, and I knew that even if I left now he would still shadow me. I had lost this round, but I did my best to look at the bright side. At least if he was walking beside me, I could watch out for him part of the way.

“Fine,” I sighed. “But make sure to dress warmly. It’s cold out.”

He rolled his eyes mockingly. “Yes, mother.”

It was difficult to keep from laughing at his sarcastic assessment of my attitude, but I somehow managed to confine my amusement to a slight smile. Sitting down on the couch as Raph vanished into the hallway, I passed the time by quietly talking to Leo. Whispering my thanks for saving Raph’s life and declaring how proud I was of him garnered no reaction, but I didn’t let that disturb me. I took comfort from the knowledge that somewhere in the recesses of his mind he had heard.

Raph returned with relative alacrity, clad in a blue hooded sweater and baggy jeans, his feet shoved into a pair of oversized black boots. The garment’s thick sleeve had been forced over the bandages and pulled passed his wrist, rendering his tri-fingered hand almost invisible when he clenched it into a fist. Tugging at his sling in an attempt to shift the strap to a more comfortable position, he then drew the hood over his head.

He shoved his good hand into his pocket and lowered his gaze, allowing the shadows to fall over his features, and suddenly he looked like any other stocky teenager. Although I had seen this transformation many times before, it never failed to startle me. If I didn’t already know him so well, I could have walked right passed him on the street and not looked twice.

Walking up to the elevator and pressing the button, he turned back to me and tilted his head, allowing light to reflect in emerald green highlights along the planes of his face. “You coming?” he asked brusquely, startling me from my reverie.

I nodded, my cheeks flaming in slight embarrassment, and hurriedly limped into the kitchen to retrieve my backpack.

Moments later we were stepping out of the elevator and into the gloom of the warehouse, grimacing simultaneously as the elevator doors squealed shut. We made our way through the musty interior, Raph walking stubbornly in the lead, and I was treated with a curious look as he turned the doorknob, only to find it locked.

I shrugged one shoulder and grinned lopsidedly, feeling foolish in retrospect. “Paranoia got the better of me last night, that’s all.”

He apparently didn’t care enough to press the issue, for he merely unlocked the door and ushered me through. I hunched my shoulders against the brisk wind that traveled down the abandoned street, sending shreds of trash and old newspaper scuttling across the pavement to tangle around my sneakers. Raph closed the door and silently offered me his elbow, the wind tugging playfully at his hood.

I took the proffered arm as we began to walk, taking care not to react when I realized that he was leaning on me as much as I was on him. Struggling to meet his eyes through the shadows that masked his features, however, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “I’m going to give you a call when I get home, just to reassure myself that you got back safely. So make sure to answer your cell, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled without rancor. “You worry too much, you know. You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer.”

I laughed and ruefully patted at my stomach through the red cloth of my sweater. “A bit late for that, I’m afraid. But since I’m already pestering you, can you think of anything you or Leo might need? I’m going to the store to pick up some cleaning supplies before I come back tomor-”

I cut myself off in mid-word as he halted in his tracks, stopping so abruptly that I nearly stumbled. He extricated himself from my grip and lifted his head, his shoulders tensing as he appeared to sniff at the air. “April,” he said quietly. “Go back to the warehouse and lock the door. Don’t ask any questions, just go.”

I’m ashamed to say that I hesitated, looking at him in confusion as his hand reached into his sweater pocket and curled around an unseen hilt. The wind picked up with unexpected intensity and whipped around us like a short-lived tornado, blowing back Raph’s hood and sending bits of newspaper whirling into the air in defiance of gravity. Whether it was irrational dread spawned by the phenomenon or my own sluggish instincts finally kicking in, I began to back away dutifully, my heart racing with sudden adrenaline.

I hadn’t gotten more than a few steps before Raph snarled in rage, backing up until his body was protectively shielding my own. He withdrew his hand and brought his sai into full view, the dim light from a distant streetlamp glinting off the sharp prongs in obvious threat. Reaching hastily for my own weapon and following his upturned gaze, my breath hitched at the sight of several distorted figures crouched on the rooftop above us, their pure black forms silhouetted against the midnight blue sky.

A sudden feeling of stomach-curdling dread compelled me to whip my head around, revealing still more Foot clan members standing sentinel atop the warehouse. They made no move to attack or speak, but merely remained eerily still, with only the wind tugging at their black clothing to give them the appearance of life. They were obviously waiting for something, but what?

An answer came in the form of a soft and deceptively pleasant voice, seasoned with the barest trace of a foreign accent. The wind carried it to our ears as if cowed into obedience by the quietly spoken words, which held an undercurrent of authority that was as inflexible as tempered steel.

“You neglected our meeting, Raphael.”

One of the dark forms above us suddenly separated from the group, swinging over the edge of the building to land catlike on the fire escape below. The metal construct didn’t even creak as the figure leaned casually against the railing, exposing a face to the lamplight that was as pale and serene as a china doll. Short hair the color of a raven’s wing was held back by a red headband, embroidered at its center with the emblem of the Foot.

Raph growled low in his throat and then slowly replied, his voice flat as slate and promising death, “I’m always happy to disappoint, bitch.”

Karai acted as if she hadn’t heard, her green eyes narrowing as she contemplated Raph’s sling. “You appear to have injured yourself. Recently, no less.” Seeming to come to a decision, she straightened and crossed her arms. “Very well. I will give you one last chance to come with us quietly, so that we may talk.”

“And if I refuse?”

Her mouth curved at his gritted tone, the corner of one lip lifting into the barest of smiles. “Then we will make you.”

I never even saw him move. One instant Raph’s hand was at his side, the pommel of his weapon trembling slightly from the force of his white-knuckled grip, and then the next his sai was whirring through the air like a miniature comet. It spun towards her with such swiftness that Karai had no time for niceties, merely tumbling inelegantly over the railing as it pierced the trailing tails of her headband and ripped the emblem from her forehead. Embedding itself into the wall with enough force to crack the brickwork around the triple prongs, the sai quivered as the skewered length of cloth snapped in the wind like a banner.

Karai plummeted two stories, only to twist her body around at the last moment and bend her knees to absorb the impact. She landed heavily, the breath forced from her lungs in an explosive huff, and her hands slapped hard against the pavement as she fought to remain upright. Peering up at us through a curtain of disheveled hair, she took in a pained breath and shook her head in a gesture of mild regret.

“As you wish.” Surging upright and drawing a katana in a single fluid motion, she calmly lifted the weapon over her head as Raph snarled and began to advance. The blade flashed in the faint light as she twisted the hilt in a deliberate fashion, winking out a silent message that I could not understand.

Whether Raph was able to interpret the code or merely responding to a movement I couldn’t see, I wasn’t sure, but he suddenly stiffened and whirled around. Twisting out of the way even as a dart missed him by millimeters and smashed on the concrete, his shoulder impacted my side with bruising force and sent me tumbling to the ground. My backpack absorbed most of the impact, the laptop inside shattering under my weight, and I rattled away the stars dancing in front of my vision just in time to see Raph drop his remaining sai.

It hit the pavement with a metallic clatter, its pommel striking the heel of my sneaker as he staggered and reached for his throat. With a curse and a truncated hiss of pain, he tore out the dart that had been meant for me. He glared at the needle-sharp tip, which dripped sluggishly with an unknown substance, and let it fall to the concrete before collapsing silently to his knees. I cried out his name and struggled to extricate myself from the tangled straps of my backpack, reaching out for him with my gloved hand. He turned his head to look at me, his eyes luminous and drowning-deep with an emotion I could not begin to understand.

“April,” he hissed thinly. “Run.”

And then his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he fell forward, smacking face first into the concrete with all the grace of a felled sequoia. I howled in reaction and clawed at the straps pinning my shoulders, finally freeing myself and staggering drunkenly to my feet.

Karai snapped out an order in Japanese and her clan promptly obeyed, surging down the fire escape ladders with mercurial grace and surrounding us in mere seconds. She then held up a hand, and the black-clad group immediately halted their advance. Every head turned towards her as they stood with coiled patience, like a pack of attack dogs awaiting their masters’ signal. “We have no interest in you, Ms. O’Neil,” Karai said calmly. “Walk away now and I swear you will not be harmed.”

I shook my head in denial, and the light slid wetly across the grey blade of my kunai as I brandished it in my right hand. Terror was washing over me in a continuous sheet, rendering me lightheaded from its intensity, but I wouldn’t allow my arms to shake or the snarl of warning on my lips to falter. Despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, I was determined to stand my ground. I would protect him as he had tried to protect me.

“The first person to touch him dies,” I replied, my voice level and radiating truth.

Karai shook her head again in that same slight gesture of irritation, before letting her hand fall back to her side. “Take him quickly,” she ordered. “Avoid harming her if you can.”

I lost sight of her as the circle of ninjas tightened inexorably; walking forward with the easy rolling swagger of carnivores that know their prey cannot escape. I lashed out with my weapon when one man dared to venture too close, tearing the fabric of his sleeve but missing flesh as he backed away with enviable speed. A flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye caused another surge of adrenaline to shoot through my veins, and I reacted out of pure instinct. Twisting my torso around and nearly overbalancing myself, I threw my weapon with every ounce of strength I possessed.

There was a bright spray of blood and a roar of pain as the kunai buried itself deep into the shoulder of the man who’d tried to sneak up on me. It wasn’t a killing blow, but it made the others hesitate as the man staggered backwards, his hands clutching spasmodically at his injury. I tried to capitalize on this momentary reprieve, reaching down to grab Raph’s sai as an alternate weapon. My crippled body slowed me down too much, however, for the longest prong had barely cleared the concrete before I felt a sharp pain flame up in my braced leg.

I cried out and dropped the weapon, hurriedly tearing the dart from my flesh, but it was already far too late. A terrible numbness quickly spread outward from the entry wound, sweeping up to envelop my entire body in a nauseating wave. My legs weakened and I wobbled dangerously, before folding up like a marionette.

The strong arms that grabbed me roughly around the waist were the only things that kept me from collapsing unceremoniously to the concrete. My head lolled against an unfamiliar shoulder, and I found myself staring fuzzily at a hooded face, his chocolate brown eyes framed by coarse black fabric. “Nice try, mecchen,” he said, his voice tinged with a lilt of mockery, “but we still win.”

Despair flooded through me at those simple words, and a weak sob tore itself from my throat. But even as my mind reeled with the enormity of my failure, something unexpected welled in up the depths of my soul. A small voice, made thick with rage and sounding very much like the person I had tried so hard to protect:

When all else fails, don’t be afraid to fight dirty. Go for the bastard’s eyes, April.

Feeling disconnected and floaty, almost dreamlike, I used my last drop of will to lash out obediently and bury my hooked thumb deep into his right eye. There was a liquid pop and blood mixed with fluid the color of watery milk spilled down my fingers, soaking into my glove even as he let out a baritone shriek of purest agony. He dropped me as if I had stabbed him with a branding iron, reaching up to claw hysterically at his face, and I had one last glimpse of him falling backwards into the arms of Karai before I hit the pavement with bone-jarring force.

I lay unmoving by Raph’s still form, gasping hard as the drugs relentlessly pulled apart my psyche and blacked out my vision. The screams of the wounded man still resounded distantly in my ears, and I felt a brief surge of bitter triumph before unconsciousness ripped away thought and sent me tumbling into the void.