Note: Guess whose back. Back again. I wrote these for Raphril week and completely forgot to post them for...eternity? I apologize in advance to any Donnie fans. I love him too but I am also a horrible person.
The clang of metal on metal rings across the empty rooftop like the tolling of a bell as Raph pushes forward. Under his feet he can feel the grind of gravel and broken casings, and the sting of sweat in his eyes.
They have been fighting for what feels like an eternity. All her pretty poisons are spent; at least he hopes they are, leaving her with only a short blade and her agile hands. Not that Raph has much of an advantage. One of his own sais went over the edge long ago, leaving him unbalanced.
Despite all this, Raph can feel his blood singing through his veins. It's the feeling he craves, just being one with his body. Every screaming muscle, every bruise and scrape, feel like a victory. In battle pain is a good thing. It means you're still alive, that you still have a chance. Fighting is what he was trained for, what he was made for. It's perfect.
Or it would be if his opponent would just shut her trap for a minute.
"That's some stamina you've got there," April smirks as she bats away an overhead strike. Her teeth flash white against red lips, leaving him boiling at the brightness of it.
She is the enemy, a Foot clan warrior. Daughter to the Shredder, who would see their whole family burn. Sister to Karai, who used and betrayed Leo in equal measure. She might have Donnie fooled but behind the sweet smiles, the light laughter, the coy winks, April is no different.
Distraction in battle is always a mistake, and April seems happy enough to take an opening when she sees it. Slipping her knife past Raph's hands, she manages to catch his cheek with her blade before dancing backwards out of his grasp.
"Whoops," The word's come out far too innocent as she pulls back, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. "You've got a little something right there."
She's baiting him. Raph knows she's baiting him. April knows he knows, but it doesn't stop him from charging at her anyways.
Master Splinter had tried to instill many lessons in his sons. The one that Raph had heard most often was that a person is not punished for their anger. They are punished by their anger.
It seems that April too subscribes to that mantra as her dainty hands encircle his wrists. Graceful as a cat, she arches over his barreling blow, landing lightly behind him. There is too much momentum for Raph to stop easily and the resulting attempt sends him skittering to the ground.
Hands on her hips, April tutts, feigning disappointment as Raph scrambles to his feet
"So angry. Can't be good for your blood pleasure. You should try yoga."
Each word is like a nail in Raph's brain and red slowly bleeds into his vision. Seeing that Raph is teetering on the edge of a meltdown, April flicks her long ponytail and sighs gustily, shaking her head.
She's playing him. Again.
This time Raph clamps down of his temper. Hard. Getting angry isn't going to help this time. April is agile, knows better than to try to beat him with strength. If he tries to muscle his way through he's just going to spend the rest of the next hour or so chasing her all over the damn roof, tiring himself out in the process.
Then it hits him. Yeah, Raph has control over his temper for once, but April doesn't know that. As far as she knows he's about to blow his top. Maybe, just maybe, he can use this to his advantage.
Clenching his fist, Raph lets loose a roar of fury.
Arms outstretched he lunges towards the girl, keeping careful measure of the distance that separates them. Predictably April keeping just out of reach of his grip, easily dancing backwards whenever he gets too close. This time though, Raph is careful as he watches.
If he can just get her close enough to the storage shed on the far side of the roof. He can use it to box her in, leaving April with no escape. All he needs was a shot, one slipup, to take her down.
Then it happens.
For a split second April's eyes flash to the side and that is more than enough for Raph. Surging forward he manages to grab hold of her knife with one hand, sending it flying across the rooftop, while grasping her wrists tightly with the other.
As he thumps her back against the hard wood, April lets out a soft yelp of surprise. It might have even been cute, Raph thinks grimly, if it wasn't likely part of an act to make him let his guard down.
When trying to tug her wrists from his grip bears no fruit, April turns an impassive stare towards Raph.
"So you caught me," She sighs, as though his catching her is merely an inconvenience. "Now what do you plan to do?"
Truthfully Raph hadn't thought that far ahead and now he finds himself scrambling. He can't just hold her here forever. Eventually he's going to have to let go. Maybe he can just tie her up. Then he'll call the guys and they can interrogate her or something.
Except the idea of tying up a girl, even April, seems wrong, like something the Foot clan would do. Not to mention Donnie would probably freak out if Raph tied his precious crush up. Ugh, gross.
As though sensing his indecision, April's entire posture shifts. Pushing out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout she stares at him through widened eyes.
"I'm not really bad you know. I was just raised that way. Maybe all I need someone to set a good example?"
This time Raph can't hold back his snort of derision.
"Nice try," he growls thumping her wrists against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but to remind her who exactly is in charge. "But I'm not Donnie. You're bad alright, bad news, and whatever you're selling I ain't buying."
As he speaks April's innocent guise melts away, leaving her usual smirk.
Suddenly, one of April's wrists slips free of his grasp. Wincing, Raph tenses, preparing for the blow that will soon follow. Hopefully she doesn't have any other knives hidden on her person, but knowing April the chances are slim.
What Raph isn't expecting though, is her hand cupping the back of his head as she drags him towards her.
With her lips on him, Raph find himself a little lost. His first instinct is to move back, to pull away, but her hand on his head keeps him firmly in place. All he can do is stand there, frozen and wide eyed, as the heat of her body seeps into his.
Then her lips begin to move, sliding softly across his and its just too much. Seemingly of their own accord Raph's eyes drift shut, leaving him at the mercy of the sensations April is eliciting. At the same time his hand drifts upward to grasp desperately at the fabric at her him, his other hand still pressing her delicate wrist into the wood above her head.
A swipe of April's tongue across his lower lip sends lightening shooting through his veins and Raph can't hold back a groan as she arches up against him. The curve of her body seems to fit perfectly against his own. He can feel the soft fabric of her pants crumple in his grip as he tries to pull her even closer.
Then, just like that, it's over as quickly as it started. As she pulls back, Raph finds his lips chasing hers, trying to hold on to the sensation for as long as he can.
"I may be bad," April whisper, and Raph can feel the ghost of it, the curve of her wicked smile against his lips, "but I'm very, very good at it."
It takes him a second to remember where he is. When April's eyes flick to the side though, Raph knows it's going to be bad. As he follows her gaze the bottom drops out of his stomach because there is Donnie. Standing there, staring at Raph and April with this mix of disbelief and horror, like he can't decide which emotion to settle on.
Suddenly Raph is very much aware of his body still pressed up against April's, of his hands still grasping her wrist and hip. It's an incriminating scene if ever there was one.
In a flash he lets go of both, scrambling backwards like it will make a difference, and that's all April needs.
With a coy wink, she's over the edge of the roof and gone before Raph can even think to stop her. The silence she leaves behind is icy, even in the warm night air, and Raph finds himself scrambling for words. Something, anything, he can say to make Donnie not hate him.
No matter how fast Raph tries to pull his scattered brain back together though, the words won't come. Not that it matters anyway because Donnie doesn't even give him a chance to try. It's all Raph can do to gather his wits enough to chase his brother's retreating shell across the rooftops.
The trip back to the Lair is stony silent.
Raph can feel sweat trickle down his back and it has nothing to do with any form of physical exertion. The fact that Donnie isn't yelling makes the whole thing worse, if that's even possible. Raph keeps expecting him to turn around and say something anything. Instead Donnie says nothing and Raph is left to wallow in his terrible suspense.
It's only when they are back underground, the tunnel home only a short distance away, that the pressure finally becomes too much.
"It's not what you think." Raph bursts out, desperation making his words come out harsher then he intended.
Donnie's shoulders tense but he doesn't turn around. He does stop though, eyes still trained on the darkness ahead. For a second Raph is sure Donnie's going to turn around and deck him, and frankly he would welcome it. Anything is better than another minute of crushing silence.
"Really?" Donnie finally asks, still not turning around. There's something in the slope of his shoulders, the way he's standing, that looks wrong on the young genius. "Because it looks like you were kissing April."
"She kissed me."
The second the words are out, Raph wishes he could take them back. They ring false even to his own ears. Each syllable echoing liar, liar, back at him.
Apparently Donnie feels the same because he whirls around, finally making eye contact with Raph for the first time since they left the roof. There is something is his eyes, a cold tight fury that makes Raph's gut clench.
This is not normal Donnie anger. That anger burn hot and loud, it involves yelling and sarcasm and arm waving. This…this is something else entirely.
"Oh and I guess you had nothing to do with it?" Donnie's tone is acerbic. With each word he seems to get bigger. Tall as he is, rage seems to make him tower. "It didn't look like you were complaining too much from where I was standing."
"She's playing us," Out of the four of them, Donnie is the smart one, the logical one. Yet when it comes to April Raph is always amazed at how blind his brother can be. "You gotta see that."
This time Donnie snorts, pinning Raph with an unimpressed glare. "It's always April's fault isn't it? Poor, Raph. She's the bad guy and you're the poor innocent victim that got dragged into her scheming?"
Part of Raph wants to scream out YES! at his boneheaded brother, but even he knows it won't do any good. At this point nothing he can say will change Donnie's mind at this point. All it will do is make him look worse. Better just to keep quiet for once. So instead, Raph just folds his arms across his chest and waits.
For a second Donnie just stands there, waiting for Raph to respond. His eyes trail across Raph's face and suddenly all the tension leaves his body. With his shoulders slouched forward Donnie looks like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
"I just can't believe you would…" Donnie's words trail off, no longer filled with cold fury. They seem empty now, like with the anger gone there is nothing left. "You know how I feel about April."
And there it is. Feel. The word Raph wants to hear the least. There is no past tense, not how Donnie felt, but how Donnie feels. How Donnie still feels.
Raising his hand Donnie rubs at his eyes, exhaustion lining every part of his body.
"Look I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm going to be in my lab for the next little while. So just…leave me alone okay?"
Not even giving him a chance to respond Donnie turns around, heading back in the direction of the lair. He pauses for a moment, tossing one last comment over his shoulder.
"By the way, you've got something on your face."
Like a flash April's words, so similar yet so different, echo through his brain. The feeling of shame that follows make's Raph's stomach churn as he desperately pushes the memory away. Now is not the time. Now is the worst time.
Almost unconsciously Raph's hand goes to his face, scrubbing fervently to the sound of Donnie's retreating footsteps.
The sight of red on his skin feels like an accusation. It feels like Donnie's cold glare. It feels like guilt and shame rising as one to fill him to the brim.
As Raph's fist, tinted and tainted, slams into the wall it feels good.
The pain running up his arm as he punches the cement over and over feels like a punishment he deserves. His bones groan and the skin of his knuckles split, colouring his whole hand red, hiding what cannot be hidden.
She played him, she played them both, Raph thinks to himself as he rests his hand against the tunnel wall. The cement is cool as he spreads his palm against it. He should have known, should have guessed when she surrendered so easily. As he stands there Raph calls himself twelve kinds of idiot for thinking he could ever outwit April.
It had all been a plan. Everything. To shatter their trust, to drive Donnie away. And what's worse is that it worked. Anything he says about her now, telling Donnie not to trust her, that she's part of the Foot clan, that she's evil, will seem like jealousy. Donnie will never trust him again. Sixteen years of brotherhood, of fighting and trusts and family. All gone in the span of a few hours.
Despite it all though, despite the pain, despite the guilt, despite the broken look in Donnie's eyes, Raph can still feel the press of a soft body against his own. He can still remember the way she smells, the feel of her hands, the curve of her smile. It's burned into his skin like a brand.
No matter how hard he tries to push it down, the memories hide just below the surface. Waiting for a moment to rise up, to send him burning once more. Like the rush of battle, without no outlet.
Resting his head against the wall, Raph is left to wonder if it will ever truly go away. If he will ever be able to close his eyes and not feel April there with him.
Deep down though, he already knows the answer.
So this was...inordinately cruel to Donnie. I feel bad because I honestly love Donnie as a character. But I am completely in love with the concept of Foot Clan April and apparently I can only write in two modes: teeth rotting fluff and gross angst so...that's that I guess.