Finding Miwa

Chapter Five

            April had been on-edge the entire day. She’d barely been able to pay any attention to any of her classes, and only gave Casey half of her attention during their shared lunch period. She knew that he’d had been trying to encourage her to go back to the lair with him later that night. When she’d only given him a noncommittal noise, he’d gone on and on about how that was where she belonged. She agreed—she really did—, but she couldn’t go back. Not just yet, not after what happened.

            She still felt terrible about what had happened, and partially blamed herself. She knew that she shouldn’t, but if she’d just insisted that they leave when she’d wanted to, if she hadn’t let Karai stay in the water longer, maybe… Maybe everything would have turned out differently.

            “Casey, I promise I’ll be going back I just… I can’t face Master Splinter yet,” she said, coming back to herself and turning her full attention to Casey.

            He gave her a grim, worried look. “Red, you know he doesn’t blame you, right?”

            “I— That’s not the problem, it’s just… There’s something that I need to do first, before I go back, before I can go back,” she said firmly, clenching her hands into fists on the tabletop. “Once it’s done, I’ll… I’ll be back, I promise. Please tell them all not to worry. They have enough on their plates worrying about Karai; I don’t need them worrying about me too.”

            “Of course they’re going to worry about you, Red. You’re part of their family—our family. Worrying is what families do best,” he said, gripping her shoulder and looking at her with the most open and honest expression she’d could ever remember seeing on his face.

            “I know.” She smiled, reaching up and gently gripping his hand. “Thanks for worrying about me, Casey, but really, it won’t be much longer. I promise.”

---

            The walk back to the apartment didn’t take nearly as long as April would have liked, and she soon found herself crossing over the threshold into her home. She looked around the small apartment she shared with her dad—the dad she’d lost and fought for more times than she cared to think about, the dad who supported her training and her friendship with the turtles and their strange but wise human-sized rat dad. Her father really had been through a lot, but he’d come through, and he really was supportive, she just hoped that he’d understand what she was doing, and why she needed his help.

            “Hey, honey. How was school?” her dad asked as he walked into the kitchen, where he was already getting things ready for dinner.

            April dropped her bag and took a deep breath, shadowing him as he moved around the room. “It was fine,” she lied, and leaned against the counter as she watched him pull out pots and pans from the cupboards. It looked like he was going to be making April’s favorite—tuna fish casserole. “Hey, Dad, can— Can I talk to you for a minute?”

            “Sure, sweetheart, what’s up?” he asked as he set a pan on the stove and sprayed it with non-stick cooking spray. She watched as he cut open a bag of frozen broccoli and dumped it all out into the pan, where it sizzled and began to steam.

            “You know how I mentioned…a few days ago that my friend… My friend Karai got hurt?”

            “Yes. Is she okay? Have you heard anything else?” Concern laced his words as he glanced over his shoulder at her. He stirred the thawing broccoli around the pan, the sizzling vegetables almost creating white noise between them.

            “Um, no, I haven’t. I haven’t gone back to see her.”

            “What?” He turned the stove down and turned his full attention to her. “April, that’s not like you.”

            “I know, I know it’s terrible, but… She blames me. She blames me, and I know deep down— I know deep down that it isn’t my fault, that this is just…one of those terrible things that happens. Just a bad thing that happened to a good person for no explainable reason. But she doesn’t want to see me.” April felt her eyes burning, but she sniffed and blinked away the tears, looking up at her worried father. “Instead of going against her wishes, I’ve been focusing on her hospital bills.”

            “You’re too young to be worry about something like that, April.”

            “But, Dad, they’re going to be huge!” April said, smacking her hand down on the countertop. “She doesn’t have insurance—no family, nothing, and it isn’t like the turtles and Master Splinter are made of money. They live in the sewer, for God’s sake!” She quickly took a calming breath. There was no need to start screaming at her dad; for one thing, she still needed his help. “Dad, the last few nights I haven’t been going to train with the turtles…”

            “What, you haven’t? Then where have you been?”

            “I’ve been breaking into Shredder’s old businesses and stealing whatever money I could stuff into my backpack, pockets, anything.”

            “You’ve been what?” The look of shock on her father’s face almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn’t have the energy to feel ashamed—not after the last few weeks she’d had.

            “Karai’s hospital bills are going to be huge—between the ambulance, the surgery, the room, the therapies, the care… All of it is going to be way too much for Splinter and the turtles to handle. So, I was thinking…maybe you could take the money and start up a monthly billing plan?”

            Her father stared at her in silence for a long few moments, and April feared that he’d yell at her, or tell her how irresponsible and stupid all of this was. Instead, he turned to the stove, turned the flame back up and got back to preparing dinner.

            April’s heart sank into her stomach. She was just about to take his silence as his answer when he spoke to her from in front of the stove.

            “It’s too late to go and do that today. I have to finish dinner, and I do want to talk to you more about what you’ve been doing. But I’ll go first thing Monday morning and work something out.”

            April beamed and dashed around the counter, wrapping herself around her dad’s back in a tight hug. “Thank you, Dad! Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

            “Okay, c’mon now, don’t burn yourself,” he laughed, easing them both away from the heat of the stove.

---

            Karai wheezed as the nurses and physical therapist eased her back down into her bed. Tears were burning the backs of her eyes and escaping down her cheeks, and they certainly weren’t helping her breathing.

            “It’s okay, it’s alright. You did really well for a first attempt,” the physical therapist assured. He was a tall, gangly man with a long narrow nose and circular glasses that reflected the hospital’s florescence lights.

            Karai wheezed again and hiccuped as she was settled back. The nurses adjusted wires and cords, making sure that everything was in order. “I just don’t know why I’m crying.”

            “It’s normal, sweetheart,” one of the nurses assured. “Even if you can’t really register the pain below the shoulders, you’re still in pain.” She wiped a cool cloth across Karai’s forehead. “But you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. This was your first attempt at sitting up since your accident; it’s going to take a long time to build up any sort of strength.”

            “Be proud of yourself. You managed for a good ten minutes, and that’s a start,” the physical therapist added with a small smile, but Karai didn’t feel good about it—not at all.

            When her doctor told her that they’d be starting physical therapy finally, she was determined to put her all into it. She was going to get better, or at least improve. But, after only ten minutes, she’d begged to get out of the sitting contraption. It was nothing more than a simple cloth elastic harness that wrapped around her midsection and back and held her up in the sitting position—nothing that should have been to uncomfortable, but Karai couldn’t handle it.

            “We’re going to give you some medication now. Try and relax, you did very well,” the second nurse said as she fiddled with Karai’s IV. The effects were almost immediate; the moment the drugs hit Karai’s bloodstream, her head felt as if it were sinking into her pillow and her vision grew fuzzy. Morphine could be such a bitch sometimes. It always knocked her on her ass.

            Karai didn’t know what was worse—the drug-induced sleep or the nightmares she faced when she wasn’t drugged. Both left her feeling exhausted and more drained than before she went to sleep. She supposed though that she hated the drug-induced sleep more, because then she wouldn’t get to visit with her family. She’d always know if they’d been there, because her covers would be drawn just a little higher, or the curtains were a little more open than they had been when she’d gone to sleep. Once, she’d even seen that a “Thinking of You” card drawn in crayon had been left by her flowers across the room. She was almost certain that it was from Mikey.

            “The physical therapy’s just begun and it’s already kicking my ass.” She gave a heavy sigh, trying to blink away the tiredness that rested dryly against her eyes. Splinter was back, and sitting with her for the evening. “I didn’t think it would take so much out of me, or that it would be so hard. I mean…” She shook her head a little and looked over at her father. “It’s just sitting, and even then it’s barely that. I mean, I’m hooked up in an adult version of a baby’s sit-and-bounce, just suspended there in the seated position. But…god, I don’t think I’ve ever felt weaker.”

            “You must remember, my daughter—your body has gone through a considerable amount of trauma. Not just from your accident, but from the surgery as well. Prolonged bedrest will have also put you under some strain. You must not be too hard on yourself,” Splinter reminded gently. “You must give yourself time to heal, and to regain your strength. Perhaps, in a few weeks, you will notice that the exercises will get easier. How are you doing with your breathing?”

            “That’s probably the easiest exercise,” Karai said with a slight snort. “But even that still tires me. I get winded really easily without the oxygen. The nurses are constantly reminding me that that’s normal, and I shouldn’t get discouraged.” She closed her eyes and sighed, letting the waves of mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion wash over her. Never before had she ever felt so tired—not during training, or during a fight—never.

            “Tell me about home.” She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Splinter, “What’s been happening while I’ve been away?”

            “Leonardo and Casey have been going on nightly patrols in search of remnants of the Foot Clan, with little luck. The city is quiet, but the two find plenty of petty criminals to occupy their time. Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo have been working on refitting the lair for when you come home.”

            “They have?” 

            “Yes, they’ve been very diligent. Donatello works hard night and day, spending every waking minute on retrofitting things to make your return to us easier on you. Raphael, too, spends most of his time working with his brothers. He would say that he’s just there to be the muscle, but he is hardly fooling anyone; he’s worried about you too.”

            “That’s so sweet,” she said with a smile. “Who would have guessed…” She chuckled. “What about Mikey?”

            “Michelangelo is determined that, not only should the new fittings to the lair be functional, but aesthetically attractive as well.”

            “Good ol’ Mikey.” she teased. “And what about you?” Her question caused Splinter’s ears to twitch slightly. “How have you been?”

            “Do not worry about me.” He shook his head, reaching forward and gently placing a hand over her own. “You just focus on healing yourself.”

            “But how can I do that if I’m worried about you? How are your injuries coming along?”

            “Stubborn,” Splinter teased, shaking his head again with a wry smile. “I am recovering gradually. I’ll be just fine.” He reached forward to pet her hair, and hummed as he ran his claws through the thick, dark strands. “Your hair is growing, and the color is fading.”

            “Is it? I haven’t had much time to look at myself.”

            “Hmm, yes. Perhaps when you are finally home, we could help you get it back the way you like it,” he mused, scratching gently over her scalp and making her eyes drift closed.

            “Maybe…” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll just let it grow out,” she mumbled. She stifled a yawn before letting herself be engulfed by sleep, comforted by the repeated petting motions of her father.

            There would be no nightmares tonight.

---

            April paced up and down the sidewalk outside the hospital, biting at her nails and chewing on her lip. Her father had picked her up right after school, and the two of them had driven straight to the hospital. He’d gone inside perhaps fifteen minutes earlier to talk about setting up a monthly payment plan for Karai, but April hadn’t worked up the courage to go in yet—even after he’d suggested maybe swinging by Karai’s room to see how she was doing.

            April wanted to tell Karai that she wouldn’t have to worry about the medical bills—if she was worried about that at all. Honestly, April couldn’t decide if it was something that the other girl would have the time or energy to worry about right then. She planned on at least telling Splinter later, knowing that that would take some weight off of the old rat’s mind—or at least she hoped as much.

            Looking up at the tall building, April chewed on the inside of her cheek, nails digging into the flesh of her arm. Should she go in? Should she see how Karai was? Would Karai even want to see her? She still remembered how upset Karai had been the last time she’d seen her—the anger and misery reflected in her golden eyes.

            Then April steeled her nerves, screwed up her courage, and walked through the automatic doors. She had to see Karai, at least one last time, just to get everything out in the open—then she’d let things fall where they may.

            She poked her head into the payment service room, where her dead was seated with an elderly woman wearing cat eyed glasses. She said quietly that she was going to go visit Karai, and her dad gave her the go-ahead and wished her luck before saying he’d wait for her in the parking lot once everything was settled.

            As she made her way through the bright sterile hospital hallways, looking for the right elevator that would take her to Karai’s floor, April went over everything she wanted to say in her head, and hoped that the tight lump in her chest would loosen up. She boarded the elevator and leaned against the wall with her hand pressed against her breastbone, taking steady breaths as the elevator took her up, up, up.

            Everything would be fine. She’d already resolved to accept the other girl’s ire and hate if she had to, but she had to at least get everything off her chest—reassure Karai in some small way—, but she was terribly nervous. Karai had been her first real relationship, her first girlfriend, her first romance, and it had only really lasted a week. And then just like that everything had changed—their relationship, their friendship—it was all over.

            April’s heart skipped a beat as the elevator doors opened with a loud ding, drawing her abruptly out of her emotional musing. She’d reached Karai’s floor.

            She crossed from the elevator to the nurses’ desk, where she asked about Karai and where her room was and if she could see her. The woman behind the desk, a smiley but obviously exhausted blonde faun-looking young woman, was polite and answered all of April’s questions before pointing her down the hall. April thanked her and made her way down the hall towards her destination.

            Her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage, and the lump that had been in her chest seemed to have made its way to the pit of her stomach. When she reached her door, she paused, hesitation freezing her in place. She gazed at the closed door, taking in all of the marks and grain of the wood as she remembered the last time she’d stood outside this door. The sounds of Karai screaming and crying seemed to echo at the back of her head and she had to close her eyes for a moment to regain herself.

            Get it together, O’Neil. You can do this. You can face whatever waits for you beyond that door, she thought to herself sternly, opening her eyes and squaring her shoulders. She could do this. She knocked a steady three times before pushing open the door and crossing into the room.

            The room was brightly lit, the light from the open window bouncing off of the white and gray walls and catching the flowers in the vase on the table across the room. It all looked a lot more cheerful than the last time she’d been in there. Then she spotted Karai.

            She was dozing in her bed, black hair spread around her head like a halo, lips slightly parted as she slept. She was still connected to all of the machines—all those beeping and whirring lifelines—, but some color had returned to her cheeks, and she looked better than the last time April had seen her.

            Wrapping her arms around herself, April crossed the room, pausing just shy of the end of Karai’s bed, and cleared her throat. With a soft puff of air and a small sound, Karai roused herself and blinked in April’s direction. It took a few seconds for realization to come to the other girl’s eyes, but, once it did, her gaze locked onto April.

            “April?” Her voice sounded quiet, almost weak, perhaps a little surprised.

            April released her arms and stood tall. “I know that you said you never wanted to see me again, and I know that you blame me for this, but…there are just a few things that I need to say, and you need to listen. I promise I’ll go once I’ve said my peace,” she said firmly as she forced herself to gaze steadily at the girl in the hospital bed. “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t need to worry about the medical bills, or any of the expenses for the surgeries, medication, or therapies. Whatever it is you have to do to get better, it’s taken care of.”

            Karai’s eyes widened slightly.

            “And I’m going to tell Master Splinter and the turtles as well—none of you need to worry about it. I’ve taken care of it. And—and even if you never want to see me again…” April’s voice began to tremble slightly, but she clenched her fists and pushed forward. “…just know that I’m here for you. If you ever need me, I’ll be there to support you. You won’t have to go through all of this alone.” She trembled slightly and closed her eyes. “I know you blame me, and you’re probably right, but…I couldn’t just walk away and leave you to suffer through this alone. So, I just wanted you to know, you don’t have to worry. Goodbye.”

            She turned on the spot and headed for the door, her nails digging into her palms, shoulders trembling. She knew if she didn’t leave now, she’d burst into tears, and she didn’t want Karai to see her cry—not after everything that’d happened.

            “April, wait.”

            April paused at the door, still trembling, wondering if she’d heard right. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Karai watching her, her golden eyes glassy. She turned to look more directly at her, worry and surprise washing over her in turn as tears slid down Karai’s cheeks.

            “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I don’t blame you, I swear I don’t.” Her breathy voice trembled as she spoke. “I’m sorry that I ever said those awful things, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I understand if you want to go—I won’t blame you if you do—I just… You needed to know that I don’t blame you.”

            “Karai.” April moved away from the door, barely daring to hope that they could get past this—that Karai would let her help her, support her, help get her through this.

            “You don’t need to help me, April, you really don’t—but please don’t give up on your training, or the turtles. They miss you.” She sniffled through her tears. “I… I’ve missed you,” she admitted, biting her lip.

            “I’ve missed you too,” April admitted back, feeling her shoulders slump as the tension drained from her body and tears of her own slid down her cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much, Karai. I’ve been worried sick.” She stepped up to the other girl’s bed and leaned her thigh against the mattress.

            “Me too,” Karai wept. “Can you ever forgive me?”

            “Can you forgive me?” April sniffled, reaching for Karai’s hand and only hesitating a moment before taking it firmly between her fingers. “For staying away for so long? I knew I should have come back sooner, but I couldn’t—not until I was sure I knew what I was going to say.”

            “I’m the one who should apologize.”

            “Can we both just agree neither of us have handled this well and move on? Please?” April asked with a hollow laugh.

            Karai laughed too, wheezing slightly as she did. “Yes.”

            “Are we okay?” April asked. “Can we be okay? I still care for you, Karai. I still want to be with you.”

            “We’re okay,” Karai assured with a slight nod.

            April leaned over the bed and hugged her gently, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Thank god.”

---

            April ended up spending the entire visiting period with Karai, talking to her, listening to her talk about the turtles’ night time visits, how Splinter had been helping her deal with nightmares, and the awful experiences with her recovery and physical therapy. April knew that Karai was scared—she’d said so herself—, but April wasn’t afraid anymore. Not now, not after being able to just sit and look at her. Karai would be just fine—of that April was sure. Maybe she wouldn’t recover entirely, maybe she’d be limited—very limited—but she was alive, and April intended to keep her that way.

            “When you’re out of here, when you’re better enough to go home, I’ll help you with your therapy. And I’m sure the others will too,” April said, gently brushing Karai’s hair away from her face. “And, next time I visit, I’m bringing a comb. These nurses aren’t doing your hair any justice.”

            Karai laughed at that—a light, wheezing sound, but a happy sound nonetheless. “I’m really glad to see you, April. You have no idea how much I needed to see you.” She sighed, exhaustion evident in her voice.

            April smiled. “Me too, but I’m gonna go now. I owe the turtles a visit myself; I’ve been avoiding them too,” she admitted. “And I’d rather leave before the nurse has to come and chase me away with a broom.” This got another airy, wheezy laugh from Karai. “I’ll be back soon—a lot sooner than last time, I promise.”

            “Okay, please do.”

            “Please rest.” April leaned down and pressed a kiss to Karai’s cheek before pressing their foreheads together. The two closed their eyes and just soaked in the much-needed affection and compassion; they’d both been seriously lacking in the affection department—at least this sort of affection. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, standing up and smiling down at her.

            Karai was already beginning to doze, her eyes fluttering against the urge to drift off. By the time April reached the door, she was fast asleep.

            April released a long sigh of relief as she stepped out into the hall. Everything was going to be okay.

---

            When April returned to the parking lot, it occurred to her just how long she’d been in Karai’s, and the sight of her dad dozing in the driver’s seat made her wince. She quickly rounded to the passenger seat and knocked on the window. Her dad woke from his doze and, sitting up straight, unlocked the door.

            “Dad, I’m so sorry,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat and put on her seatbelt.  Guilt churned her stomach when she spotted the can of coke and half-eaten microwave burrito in the cupholders.

            “No, it’s okay,” her dad assured with a yawn as he stretched in his seat, groaning as his stiff muscles tried to loosen up. “You needed to see her, honey. I take it things went well?”

            April felt heat lick at her cheeks lightly as she looked at her lap. Then she looked out of the passenger side window. “Yeah, things went well.”

---

            “Donnie, this is incredible,” April praised, looking over the blueprints that the lanky turtle had shown her the moment she’d stepped into the turtle’s sewer lair. Donnie had been so thrilled to see her that he’d immediately dropped what he was doing and fetched the blueprints. He’d shoved them in April’s hands and started talking quickly and animatedly about his plans, and how things were faring so far. April was honestly gobsmacked at the details that he had managed in such little time.

            “Do you really think you can do all of this?”

            “We already are,” Raph said as he crossed over to them and gave April a one-armed side-hug. “We’ve been gathering materials for days. Even started some construction yesterday. Not saying it isn’t going to take a while to get it all done, of course… We’ll probably still be doing work even after Karai gets back, but we’ll get it done, right, Don?”

            “Right.”

            “You guys are the best,” April said, handing the blueprints back to Donnie. “Are Leo and Mikey out?”

            “Yeah, they’re patrolling the city tonight. Then they’ll probably pop in to see Karai later.” Donnie carefully began rolling up the blueprints, glancing side long at April. “So, uh, have you seen Karai, y’know, lately?”

            April rubbed her arm and shuffled her feet a little awkwardly. “Um, yeah. Actually, I went and saw her today.”

            “And?” Raph pressed, his arms crossed.

            “We’re fine. Everything’s okay. I mean, it isn’t, but it is.”

            “Good,” Raph said, giving April a light punch to the shoulder before heading back to the living room area.

            Donnie tapped the top of his blueprints, making sure they were tightly rolled, and gave April a warm smile. “I’m glad to hear it, April. I really am. I think that you and Karai talking again will take a lot of stress off of her, and let her focus more on recovery than guilt.”

            “I think you’re right,” she agreed, patting the tall turtle on the shoulder before moving towards the dojo stairs.

            It was time she talked to Splinter. No more guilt, no more avoiding it. Karai and Casey were right—they were family, and they had to stick together.

            “Master Splinter?” April asked as she poked her head into the dojo.

            She found Splinter on his rounds of the room. The old rat’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice, and he turned to look over at her. “April.” He smiled at her as she crossed the room to join him. “It is good to see you again. Your presence here has been greatly missed.”

            “I’m sorry for staying away for so long, Master Splinter. I just needed to sort through some things before I could come back,” she said, falling into stride alongside him as he exercised his injured leg.

            “I thought as much,” he said with a nod. “Casey has been quite informative with updates on your wellbeing, as well as his concerns. He did not badger you too much, did he?” the aged rat asked, looking sidelong down at her.

            April smiled and shook her head. “No. Casey’s been…remarkable throughout this entire ordeal, honestly. I never thought I’d see him come through in such a way.”

            “I would have to agree with you. Casey has shown great empathy and maturity during this crisis. His concern for you, as well as for my daughter, has been touching. All in all, despite what one might call his vices, Casey Jones is a good boy.”

            “He is,” April agreed with a nod, then she paused and looking up at him. Splinter paused as well and turned back to face her. “Master Splinter, I just wanted to come and apologize to you. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed away, and I should have come and explained—told you what happened in more detail, or…” She frowned, struggling for the words she so desperately wanted to say. “Or at least called, but I…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I couldn’t. I was too… I don’t know…ashamed, scared.”

            She started a little and opened her eyes when Splinter placed a clawed hand on her shoulder. He looked down at her with a gentle expression. “I understand why you stayed away, April, but that does not matter now,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Because you are here now, and that is what matters.”

            April looked up at him for a moment before wrapping her arms around Splinter and hugging him tightly. “I missed you.”

            Splinter wrapped his arms snugly around her as well, and lightly pressed his chin against her head. “And I you, April.”

            “I’m so glad to be home,” she said against his chest. She closed her eyes, and just let herself feel the relief of being back where she belonged.