Race. [TMNT 2012]

5. The Rejection; Raphael

Song: Say Goodbye - Skillet

Our walk to April's house is plagued by misery. We're beaten and exhausted. The Footbots didn't do this to us, of course; they were too easy to take down. What drained our energy was watching our sensei get murdered. He didn't deserve to die. And the Foot had no right to take his body with them, since they won't mourn over it.

We have nothing. He's gone.

It's a hard fact to accept.

Michelangelo's sniffles are the only sounds any of us make. Even Leonardo is dead silent, his eyes closed and his heart beating weakly against my shoulder.

Seeing our fearless leader so wounded brings me back to the time the Shredder cracked his shell and put him in a coma. Those times had been hard and I don't want to repeat them. As much as he annoys me, I can't bare the idea of once again sitting vigil over him while he lays unconscious in a bathtub. It's impossible to recall how much I let my emotions control me during those months. It would be a monstrosity to do it all over again.

Donatello, his pupils dilated with grief, opens the door to April's house. We file in one by one, our despair trailing after us.

I gently lay Leonardo down on the sofa. He looks so peaceful in such a cruel way. I would've assume he was sleeping if I hadn't watched him break.

"I'll get him a cold cloth," Donatello says. He starts towards the kitchen, but stops when Elizabetta, April, and her father block the way.

"Oh, hello Mr. O'Neil!" Donatello greets him pleasantly. "Nice to see you again."

The middle-aged man gives him a grim smile. "I wish I could say that same about you," he replies quietly.

I'm puzzled. And by the looks on Donatello and Michelangelo's faces, they are too.

"Huh?" Michelangelo finally voices our thoughts.

"You must leave," Mr. O'Neil says softly. His eyes are lit up with worry.

"Dad, no," April objects, flashing us a guilty look. "Sorry, he's just... Been having seconds thoughts, is all," she explains.

"About us? Why?" Donatello asks, perplexed.

April bites her lip. She looks afraid to explain; the kind of fear she develops when she doesn't want to hurt our feelings.

"He doesn't trust us," Elizabetta says shortly, with a dark glance at the middle-aged man.

Realization strikes Donatello like a lightning bolt. "We would never do anything to harm you or your daughter!" he says quickly.

Mr. O'Neil bows his head in sadness. "I wish I could believe that."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Out of all the times we helped him, we're suddenly the enemy? He has seen first-hand how hard we work our shells off for New York City! How dare he think otherwise?

"You're siding with Shredder?!" I snap. New York turning against us is still a raw subject for me, and April's dad is not helping. "Haven't you seen enough to realize how sick and twisted he is?!"

"Raph," Donatello warns me, but I ignore him.

"The Shredder is who you should be looking out for!" I snarl, taking a few threatening steps toward him. "Not us! He doesn't care about you at all. He'd snap your neck if it gained him a few more followers!"

I am almost foaming at the mouth. Never before have I been so furious, so eager to turn an argument into a physical fight. The rational side of me is the only thing preventing me from slicing Mr. O'Neil's head off in frustration.