Fade

Part Five

By Dierdre

Sometime during my little coffee break from reality, I’d apparently crawled away from the fridge and wedged my shell into one dark corner of the kitchen, drawing my knees up to my chest. I don’t know how long I’d stayed there, arms wrapped tightly around my folded legs with my face pressed against my kneepads, silently rocking back and forth, but even a few seconds was too much. Luckily no one else had been there to witness this latest psychotic development, or I might’ve had to commit seppuku out of sheer mortification.

I slowly straightened out of my tight huddle, grimacing as my leg muscles protested the movement. Apparently my trip to La-La Land had lasted long enough for cramps to set root in my thighs… and long enough for the soup to dry into a slimy-looking patina across my legs and plastron. Well, ain’t that just peachy.

I levered myself to my feet, using the wall for support as I attempted to fight off a wave of dizziness. The flashbacks had never had such a powerful effect on me before. And while the fit of hysterics was bad enough, it was what happened afterwards that truly scared the hell out of me. One second I was laughing like I’d just swallowed a hyena, and the next a wave of endless dark had hit me straight between the eyes. Who knows how many minutes, just… gone as if they’d never been.

First flashbacks and now blackouts. I was beginning to wonder just who I’d pissed off in a previous life to deserve such abuse.

Some of the dizziness had finally passed, quickly replaced by one doozy of a headache, when I truly realized just how stiff my body was. I had obviously been out for quite a while, but for exactly how long? Hours? Days?

My heart clenched and I pushed myself away from the wall. Leo. Where the hell was Leo?

Both hands cradling my aching head as if it might roll off my neck at any moment, I staggered out the kitchen and through the living room. Throwing my shoulder against the battered door even as I twisted the knob, I burst into the dojo, the metal handle smacking against the wall hard enough to chip brick.

The muscles running down the length of my neck, wound as tight as harp strings from sudden worry, immediately relaxed when I saw my brother. Leo was sitting in his usual position on the tatami mat, the lamplight splashing the planes of his shell with highlights of muted gold. He had shown no reaction to my abrupt entrance, a fact that would’ve irritated me at any other time, but right now I was just too damn happy that he hadn’t left the lair while I was incapacitated for me to feel anything but relief.

I leaned against the doorframe and blew out a low breath. According to April, who was the closest thing our sad little family now had to a medical expert, Leo’s bizarre obsession with the dojo was yet another sign of catatonic stupor. A scary thing to see and usually annoying as hell, but right now it had served me well. Who would’ve thought I’d ever have cause to be grateful for one of the quirks of Leo’s condition?

I turned on my heel and exited the dojo, closing the door firmly behind me. Let Leo stay in there a while longer. A few more minutes won’t make much difference to him and I needed the extra time to get a few things done. Finding out the exact time was first on my list, closely followed by a hot shower and some clean kneepads. Then I needed to mop up the mess by the fridge and call April.

…Scratch that and to hell with the mess, I was going to call April now. After tonight’s festivities I wasn’t too proud to admit that I desperately needed to hear a friendly voice. I needed to see her so bad it was almost pitiful, and most importantly of all, I needed her to watch Leo for me tonight. I had to get the hell out of here for at least a few hours or I was going to completely lose my mind.

I made my way over to the couch and searched until my hand encountered the ridged dome of my shell-cell, shoved carelessly between the cushions. I guess I was still feeling the aftereffects of my first alcohol-free blackout, because my fingers fumbled clumsily at the buttons as I struggled to dial April’s number.

Searching through tons of jagged rubble three months ago had earned me a plethora of new scars and nerve damage in both hands, the latter of which had left the tips of my fingers and the skin across my palms eternally numb. Extra concentration was required to make sure I didn’t drop things, but while this new necessity was annoying it didn’t slow me down much. Not usually, at least. A flashback, however, never failed to scatter my concentration, and it was always at least an hour before I was once again able to use my hands with any degree of dexterity.

Cradling the gadget in both hands and dialing slowly, my stubbornness was eventually rewarded with a familiar ring. A glance at the flashing VCR clock confirmed that it was nearly ten –a full three hours since my disastrous dinner- but the idea that April might be in bed never crossed my mind. That dame had a harder time sleeping than I did.

My assumption was quickly proven correct as the ringing cut off, abruptly replaced by the faint sound of music and a feminine voice saying, “Hello, Raph. What’s up?”

It had been nearly three days since I’d last spoken with her, so I couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Christ, but it was good to hear her voice again. Too bad I was a taciturn bastard or I’d call her more often.

“I need you to watch Leo for me tonight.”

Despite my lack of preamble something in my tone must have betrayed me, because she hesitated briefly before once again speaking, her voice now spiced with concern, “Flashbacks again?”

I sighed and answered with a cryptic “Yeah.” April had enough on her plate already and I hated admitting to my own weaknesses, but I didn’t attempt to hide the truth from her. Not after what had happened three weeks ago.

When she’d first left the hospital and started visiting the lair again, I had tried to keep the knowledge of my mental problems a secret. For a time I’d actually succeeded… until a flashback had overwhelmed me one night, yanking me away in the middle of a conversation with her. I had faded out with no warning, standing as still as stone for a full ten minutes, and when I once again came back to myself I found that April had wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace, her face buried in my neck as she sobbed pitifully. Apparently she’d thought I’d slipped into a catatonic state similar to Leo’s.

Poor April. It had taken nearly an hour to calm her down.

There was a distinctive clank and scrape as she stood, and then the brief sound of shuffling paper. “The last bus won’t be here for another fifteen minutes, so that should give me enough time to get ready. I’ll meet you at the bus stop, okay?”

“I’ll see you there. Thanks, April.”

“Anytime, Raph,” she said, her voice warm with a sincere affection that never failed to astonish me.

April cut the connection a moment later and I shook my head, letting the shell-cell fall to the couch cushions. That skinny little redhead was one of the few truly good things to ever happen to my family. She had dropped unexpectedly into our lives one night, like some sort of reward for winning last place in the game of life, and at first she hadn’t seemed like much. As the years went by, however, she had proven to be one hell of a consolation prize. We wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long as we did without her.

That line of thinking carried with it dangerous memories, so I growled lowly and banished the thought. Giving the digital clock a final critical glance, I headed back to the kitchen. I had to hustle if I was going to make it to the bus stop on time.

Some thirty minutes later, freshly showered, armed and shrouded in many layers of uncomfortable clothing, I checked on Leo one last time before drawing the sweater’s hood over my head. The elevator doors haltingly slid shut after I stepped inside, and the contraption began to rise with a harsh screeching sound that quickly resurrected my headache and set my teeth on edge.

My temples were pounding in step with my heart by the time the doors once again opened. I quickly strode out into the mottled gloom of the warehouse and headed for the exit, letting my hand run briefly over the dusty paneling of the Battle Shell as I swept by. I really missed riding in that overgrown hunk of scrap metal, but I hadn’t had the courage to step inside it for a while now. It had briefly served as a meat wagon for several of my deceased family members, and while I had aired it out thoroughly since then, my imagination still perfumed the interior with the faint aroma of roasted flesh and fur.

Shutting the warehouse door firmly behind me, I stomped my feet to force my heels more firmly into the ill-fitting shoes and made my way out into the world.

With stray leaflets of paper dancing madly around my ankles, I shoved my hands into my pockets and trudged down the deserted street. While the hood did wonders for throwing shadows across my face it did little to block the wind, and so I hunched my shoulders as a chill insinuated itself down my neck. October already. Great.

In another month or so winter would set in with a vengeance and the sewer would become a miserable place to live. Who knew how long the space heaters would last without Donny to upkeep them. If they tanked out on us halfway through the season, we might have to consider bunking over at April’s for a while.

…A borderline lunatic and a mental vegetable crashing on her couch. Yeah, I’m sure she’d love that.

I didn’t encounter another soul during my walk, although the distant cacophony of a sleepless city kept me company along the way. I finally made it to the bus stop, which was little more than a covered bench bathed in the sullen light of a nearby street lamp.

I made a move to step into the shelter, but was immediately drawn up short by the sight of a shapeless lump of newspapers and ragged cloth stretched across the seat. One of the papers suddenly rustled and was pulled back by a filthy hand, revealing the upper portion of a face topped with a wild mop of gray hair. A pair of cloudy blue eyes fixed me with a fearful gaze.

I must have looked quite menacing, with my deeply shadowed face and concealed hands, and so I nodded to him and quickly backed away. My actions and subsequent body language must have reassured him that I wasn’t looking for trouble, because he eventually drew the newspaper back over his face.

Poor bastard. There was something wrong with a world that had people who were worse off than sewer-dwelling mutants like me.

Leaning against a wall so covered in graffiti paint it was impossible to tell the original color of the brickwork, I fished a cigarette out of my pocket. I bowed my head and lit up quickly, snapping the lighter shut before any possible prying eyes could get a glimpse of my face. I shoved my hands back into my pockets and rolled the cigarette around in my mouth, practicing the fine art of hands-free smoking. Now all I had to do was wait.

I didn’t have to wait long, for the bus pulled up to the curb no more than three minutes later. Dropping the half-finished cigarette, I ground it under my heel and watched as the doors groaned open. April was the only passenger to exit the vehicle, making her way down the steps with the slow patience of the handicapped. She made it safely to the curb and looked around as the doors shut and the bus pulled away with the muted roar of an overtaxed engine.

April adjusted the strap on the bag slung across her shoulder and pulled at her left sleeve, stretching out the pink cloth to better hide the scars. She hadn’t seen me yet, a fact that I was now grateful for, because I needed a moment to compose myself. Seeing her trying to hide her body like that never failed to tear at my heart and fill me with an amorphous sense of rage. The marks on her skin were the same as mine and Leo’s; not merely scars, but war wounds. She shouldn’t hide them away like they were something shameful.

I’d tried talking to her about it once, but she had quickly ended the attempt with an uncharacteristically clipped “you wouldn’t understand.”

It was none of my damn business, I guess.

I cleared my throat and pushed off from the wall, walking towards her. April’s head whipped around at the noise, her eyes wide, but she immediately relaxed once she recognized me. Her mouth curved into a lopsided smile. “Hi, Raph.”

“Hey, April,” I replied. Taking the heavy bag from her, I threw it over my own shoulder and extended an elbow. She accepted it with another smile and we began to walk back the way I’d come, my gait carefully slowed to match her uneven footsteps.

The cripple and the mutant, walking arm in arm. The sight would probably be amusing if it wasn’t so damn sad.

I wasn’t one for idle chatter and she apparently didn’t have anything important to say, so the walk back to the warehouse was a silent one. I didn’t mind much, though. Right now it was enough that she was with me, so close I could smell her perfume. The faintly floral scent pushed back the smell of smog and garbage that typically choked the air, filling me with the comforting knowledge that, as least for now, I wasn’t alone. It was a nice change of pace.

We reached the warehouse without incident and a quick check soon confirmed that we weren’t being followed. I opened the battered metal door and motioned her through, following close behind and allowing the door to ease shut on its own. Pressing the elevator button, I easily slipped the bag off my shoulder and placed it by her side. This was where we would part ways, since I had no intention of going back down there tonight.

“Leo never finished his dinner,” I said gruffly, “so try to make him eat something before putting him to bed, okay?”

“No problem,” she said. The elevator doors squealed open and she leaned down and gripped her bag, dragging it into the musty interior by its leather strap. Before the doors could slide shut, however, she placed a hand across the sensor to keep them apart. April then blew out a low breath and gave me an entreating glance. “Look, Raph, why don’t you just come back down with me? We could talk, or maybe watch a movie or something. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Her smile was tentative and tinged with a terribly familiar edge of desperation. It suddenly struck me that she must be almost as lonely as I was.

I hesitated, torn between two conflicting desires. I wanted to get away so bad I could almost taste it, but at the same time I didn’t want to leave her alo-

-opened the passenger side door and carefully slid my hands under her ruined frame. I lifted her out as gently as I could, cradling her against my plastron like the most fragile of china, but still she whimpered. Her white face paled still further and I winced in sympathy. I could only imagine the agony she must be in right now.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. The words were said in an attempt to comfort, but the lie behind them was so great I nearly staggered. Things would never be okay again.

My hands were so numb I nearly dropped her twice during the short trek from the alley to the emergency room entrance, but I somehow managed to walk up to the glass doors without incident. It was very late and there were no people in sight, but I knew that April wouldn’t be left untreated for long. Hospitals never slept.

Easing her down to the concrete and carefully readjusting the blanket over her body, I kneeled by her side and said, “You’ll be fine, April. The doctors will fix you up in no time.”

It was another lie and we both knew it, but what else could I say? She seemed willing to go along with the comforting falsehood, however, because she closed her eyes and nodded slowly. She was a brave lady, our April. Casey would’ve been proud of her.

Suppressing a moan of fresh anguish at the thought, I lurched to my feet and reached over her body, hitting the buzzer that would summon aid. The high-pitched and grating signal could be faintly heard through the thick glass doors as I once again kneeled by her side. The powerful aroma of recently burnt tissue would have made me gag, had I anything in my stomach left to lose.

“I gotta go now,” I said quietly.

She was barely conscious and didn’t seem to have strength enough to open her eyes, but tears still forced their way past her singed lashes. Her voice was weak and hoarse from shock and smoke inhalation, but I nevertheless heard her clearly.

“Don’t leave, Raph,” she murmured, in a plaintive tone that broke my heart just a little bit more. “Stay with me. Please…”

Hospital personnel would be arriving any moment now and I couldn’t afford to be seen, so I gripped her good hand in both my own, squeezing briefly. “I’m sorry, April.”

I dropped her hand and bolted away just as several jumpsuit-clad men rounded a corner inside the building, heading for the glass doors at a brisk trot. I slipped into the alley shadows, pulling them around me like the concealing folds of a cloak, and gritted my teeth against the guilt as her final rasping words brushed past my ears.

“Please don’t go…”-

I came back to myself with a heavy shiver and a sudden gasp.

Blinking furiously to clear my vision, I looked up to find April staring at me with wide eyes. She spoke hesitantly, her voice made indistinct by the glove gripped firmly in her teeth, “Are you okay?”

No. No I wasn’t. I was about as far from okay as one could get. My hands were trembling yet again, my heart was pounding furiously in my chest, and I could feel my mind unraveling like the threads of an old sweater.

On the bright side, however, I was no longer conflicted.

“I’m sorry, April,” I said. Turning on my heel without another word, I threw open the warehouse door and escaped into the New York City night.