milliways_bar | (no subject)

It wasn't quite summer yet in New York, but it was close enough. The weather had been clear and hot, but thankfully hadn't quite reached the point where it was oppressive. That said, a change for the cooler wasn't unwelcome, and when the front door opened to reveal the t-shirt-clad form of April O'Neil, the wry quirk to her lips suggested she was pleased enough to step over the threshold into the familiar confines of Milliways Bar.

She'd been around, but rarely for more than a few minutes together, generally simply checking in or using the bar as a way station between her New York and late-1800s London. Today, though, April thought she'd linger awhile, if only to take note of the growing sea of unfamiliar faces, and perhaps see a few familiar ones, as well.

Seating herself at the bar, she ordered coffee -- Large, with lots of sugar and cream, and Bar still knew just how to make it -- and opened the copy of the New York Times that had been tucked under her arm.

[OOC: It's been awhile; please feel free to interrupt her!]

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Mike blinks at her.

"Well of course he's alive. He's too stupid to die, you know that."

"That's not funny, Michaelangelo." Oooo, the whole name.

Yeah, he takes a half step back at the full use all five syllables.

Mike looks away.

"he's fine. works all of his shifts. in on time. out on time. he's even picked up a second job, and has been working on that bike of his.

he's fine."

April was visably relieved, her shoulders slumping with a sigh. After a long moment's consideration, she reached up to turn his face back to hers.

"Look at me," she quietly replied, eyes soft. She wasn't quite ready to return to where they'd been, back last Christmas. But that was what this was about, sure enough, and oh, this was her fault, she knew it was. She was supposed to hold them together. It was her job.

"I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have snapped."

Big brown very familiar eyes look up and into hers.

"You don't need to apologize, you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, no, I did. I yelled at you, and it's not even your fault. Your brother's an asshole." April sighed, and slipped her hand around behind his neck to tug him close again. "Is this you, or is this him, that's keeping you from talking?"

He sighs and responds simply.

"Yes."

That wasn't helpful, but told her well enough what she needed to know. April placed a gentle kiss to Mikey's cheek and paused a long moment, simply holding him close, needing that simple reassurance.

"If I was there," she began, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes again. "Do you think it would be easier to talk to him?"

"I'm not ready, and even if I was, now isn't the right time. Besides, it's not like he's ready either. I mean, he always comes back eventually."

Right, of course. Everything had to go by Raph Time. The trouble was, Raph Time never went anywhere at all.

April nodded anyway, because she never really had the strength to push Mikey, and this- Well, the truth was, she didn't want to talk about it anymore than they did, especially not with Mikey, not after last time.

"Love you, you know," she murmured instead, and she looked all the world like a lost puppy. Months, it had been. Months. How could they possibly go that long?

He half smiles.

"I love you too, April Mayjune. And hey, now when I say it I feel it too. Funny that."