Author's note: This story was originally written before "Love, Lies and Pizza Pies", but after an insane number of flashback scenes it was less confusing to just write an introductory falling-in-love story between Donatello and Rebecca Spiegel (OC). If you are just now coming into the story line, it may be beneficial to read that story first but isn't required.

Prologue:

Beneath the busy New York City streets, three humanoid turtle brothers and their humanoid rat father hid from the normal world, each doing their best pretending they were happy to be unappreciated protectors to the people living above, while also going about their lives as though their family hadn't been ripped apart.

Only, it had been months since any of them could honestly say they were happy. Months since laughter and joy had filled the space of the sewer lair that they called home. Months had passed since they had all been together, a loving father and his four sons, training in the ways of the ninja and trying out new pizza recipes.

Michelangelo plopped down on the living room couch, trying his best to ignore the silence that surrounded him. At a time of the evening when he and his brothers should be getting ready to patrol the streets, they were instead buried deep in their own loneliness, dealing with the emotional pain of life. Leonardo, the appointed leader of the team, went about his nightly workout in the dojo under the supervision of Splinter, the turtles' father and Master. Donatello, the family technological wiz, was locked in his room, the lights out and avoiding his family. Out in the living room, Michelangelo lost himself in the world of fiction, finding solace in superheroes to escape the unhappiness surrounding him.

Though he remembered that Splinter had asked them all to train tonight, he decided to ignore the request. If Donatello and Raphael weren't forced to be there, he shouldn't be either. Besides, if there was anything the brothers should be doing, it would be locating Raphael who had taken off on a self proclaimed mission months ago and hadn't checked in for weeks. Shaking his head, Michelangelo picked up another comic book, forcing his thoughts to stray from his real world problems and focus on the latest adventures of Captain Hero and the Sidekick Kid.

A shuffling sound caught his attention and Michelangelo looked up from his comic book as Donatello moved like a zombie down the hallway and into the kitchen. Intrigued by the rare appearance of his brother into the world, Michelangelo put the comic book down on the coffee table. Rolling off of the couch and landing on his feet, he followed Donatello into the kitchen. The past few months had taken their toll on Donatello, and Michelangelo worried that his brother was still in a deep depression, despite his constant protests to the contrary.

Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Michelangelo eyed his brother carefully as Donatello stared blankly into the refrigerator. "The milk is expired, if that's what you're looking for. I haven't thrown it out yet," Michelangelo said, keeping his voice low. Donatello continued to stare into the emptiness of the fridge, making no movements to reach for an item or to shut the door. Michelangelo closed his eyes, fearful that his brother was lost in his own world and beyond reach. Sucking in then releasing a deep breath, he tried to get past the darkness in Donatello's mind. "She's not in there," he said softly, hoping to not set his brother on a downward spiral of despair. Again.

Slamming the refrigerator door hard enough to shake the floor, Donatello narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. "I wasn't even thinking of her!"

Michelangelo leaned against the counter, a look of worry creasing his forehead. "Yes, you were. You're always thinking of her. Why aren't you out there with Raphael trying to find her?"

"Why!" Donatello spat out, anger washing over his face. "Because she left eleven months ago! She's not coming back. She made that abundantly clear when she ripped out my heart, threw it on the ground and did the Mexican Hat Dance on it. She's never coming back, Mikey. NEVER! You'd be better off forgetting about her, too."

Donatello shoved past Michelangelo. A few moments later, the echo of a slamming door filled the lair, causing him to jump from the sound. Michelangelo whirled back around planning to head back to the solitude of the couch and his comic book when he smacked right into the chest of his eldest brother, Leonardo.

Feeling guilty for sneaking up on his brother, Leonardo held out his arms, helping Michelangelo regain his balance and to keep him from tipping over. With a stern look, Leonardo shook his head solemnly at his baby brother. "You shouldn't have said that to him."

Michelangelo looked down at his feet. "I know. It's just that… Leo, he's been going around like a zombie for months now. Ever since he stopped looking for her, it's like he's lost himself. Our whole family is nothing but a giant mess! Becky's gone, Raph's out chasing after a shadow and Donatello's lost in his own mind. I want our family back together!" The tears escaped his eyes before he could force them back. He hated himself for losing his cool in front of his brother, but the agony of loneliness had finally gotten the better of him and he couldn't hold back any longer. Before Michelangelo knew what was happening, Leonardo had pulled him into his arms and hugged him.

"It's gonna be okay, Mikey. It's just going to take a little more time."

Choking on his tears, Michelangelo shook his head. "But I'm sick of waiting."

Suppressing a sigh, Leonardo released his hold on his brother. "Yeah, me too. I think the time has arrived that I finally step in and made some long over-due changes around here. First order of business, find Raphael and drag his butt back here, whether he likes it or not."

Michelangelo sniffled as he stepped back from his brother. "And how are you going to do that?"

Leonardo looked over his shoulder in the direction of Donatello's room. "By forcing Donnie to get over himself and help me."

Michelangelo followed his brother's gaze and shivered. "I think I'll leave that one to you."

"Thanks," Leonardo said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He turned back to look at Michelangelo, but the turtle was already back on the couch, the comic book in front of his face once more. Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Leonardo trudged down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Not bothering to knock, he pushed open Donatello's bedroom door. "I need your help, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

With his helmet upon his head, and his leather jacket zipped tightly around his body, Raphael whizzed down the road, then through a field in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, literally into the small town of Nowhere.

"What the hell would anyone be doing in a place like this?" Raphael muttered to himself, revving the engine of his motorcycle to kick into a higher gear. He'd been following the trail for weeks now, and thanks to some tips from weary travelers, his search had brought him to good old Oklahoma, the last place he ever would have thought to look for a missing New Yorker.

Pulling to a stop on a gravel road, Raphael tossed the helmet onto the seat before making his way towards a gathering of trees overlooking a small shack. A quick look around revealed that other than the shack, a small garden, and the trees, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, around them.

Before he could form a plan to get close enough to the shack to peek inside, Raphael's eyes blinked as he watched the door of the shack slam open and a small feminine figure dressed in all black slink out of the structure, a shot gun planted firmly against one shoulder and her finger ready to squeeze the trigger. Sinking back into the trees, Raphael hoped that both he and his motorcycle were hidden enough to keep out of her line of fire.

Staying as still as he could, he observed as the girl looked around the forested area. He wasn't sure what she was looking for, but the look of the gun in her hand assured him that whatever it was, it wasn't friendly. Taking care to stay out of sight, Raphael rocked back on his heels as he watched the girl lift up the gun and with four shots, take down two drones that he hadn't noticed flying well above her. Seeing her lower the gun and turn back towards the shack, he braved a few steps closer to inspect the damage. From where he stood, he thought he saw a Foot emblem among the debris. Unable to stop himself, he knelt down in the grass to inspect one closer, unsure why Foot Drones would be all of the way out in Oklahoma. There was no doubt about it as he picked up a piece of metal from the fallen drone. This was definitely the foot's handy work, and whoever that girl was, she'd managed to take out the cameras as well as the motors.

Her foot steps were so quite that she was already standing beside him before he noticed she'd turned back around. Before he could share his reverence of the girl, he felt her hands wrap around his wrist and bring him over her shoulder to drop him on his shell. His eyes darted to her hands, relief washing over him as he realized she didn't have a gun in her hand. As the girl landed against the ground to jam her elbow into his rib cage, a sudden glimpse of realization flashed in her eyes. With a mild curse, she scrambled back to her feet. Covering her face, she quickly ran back toward the open door of the shack and away from the mutant turtle lying in her front yard.

Raphael leaped to his feet, once again proving that a turtle on his back was not always the end of the world. In a flash he was between the girl and the door. Knowing there was no means of escape, a heavy sigh released from the girl's mouth as she stared the hot headed turtle down, his eyes blazing back at her. Raphael looked at the girl taking in her down turned mouth. He didn't blink despite the glare on her face being strong enough to melt the skin off of a lesser man or turtle.

"What?" she snapped at the turtle, anger and annoyance boiling in her voice.

Even behind the anger, the bright blue of her eyes was unmistakable, though the sparkle he once had known had died. Unable to stop himself, Raphael's eyes brimmed with tears as he folded the girl into his arms and pulled her tightly against his chest. "Becky. I can't believe it's you." Hugging the girl tighter, he couldn't help but notice the rigidness of her body, but he didn't let it stop him. Nothing short of the end of the world could have stopped him. After all this time, he'd found her. Rebecca Faye Spiegel was alive and well.

Nearly a year had passed since Rebecca had run out on the turtles, without any explanation at all. She'd left all of her belongings behind, including her cell phone-which Donatello had chipped with a tracking device after she'd been kidnapped one too many times by the foot and the turtles sworn enemy, The Shredder.

After her disappearance, the two turtles, along with their brothers had searched the entire city for any trace of her, but she was long gone. As the months faded away, the turtles one by one slowly lost hope that she would return to the family that loved her. Donatello had taken it the hardest, allowing any promise he once felt of her return to turn into bitterness and anger. No longer had Donatello taken any interest in computers or gadgets or inventions that had once been his life. The last few months led to heated arguments with all of his brothers, his Master Splinter and his human friends Casey Jones and April O'Neil. Even Raphael, who had always been known as the hothead, seemed mild and tame compared to the new found hatred lurking inside of the once mild Donatello.

But maybe, just maybe, the old Donatello would return and life would seem less awful, because here in front of Raphael was the one person in the world that both brothers cared for more than anything in the world. Dear, sweet Becky was found and could return back to the sewer lair, and life would be able to return back to normal, or as close to normal as it had ever been for the four mutant turtles.

Only, Rebecca was no longer the dear, sweet innocent girl Raphael had once confided in, and not-so-secretly fallen madly in love with. As he sat in a broken wooden chair in the small shack that housed a small futon, two wooden kitchen chairs, and nearly as much work out equipment as the turtle's dojo, he realized that the angry redhead was no longer the adorable brunette that had captured the hearts of his entire family. The girl from the past had sparkling blue eyes, the color of the ocean, and long dark brown hair with curls begging to be touched. That girl's heart had been filled with laughter and love. Now, the girl before Raphael, kicking the punching bag chained to the ceiling showed only hatred in her movements. Her eyes were darker, more sinister; her once long hair now chopped off and dyed a blood red. Even the friendly voice of a happy girl in love was replaced by a monotone of annoyance and bitterness.

Raphael stared hard at his friend, watching as the newly formed muscles in her arms and legs stressed against a vigorous workout, and his heart sank with worry. This girl showed battle scars, inside and out, and based upon the way she'd handled the drones, she'd had lots of practice over the last few months.

Wanting to kick himself for not being there to protect her, Raphael stood up, reaching out for the girl who had once found comfort in his arms, only to watch as her entire body tensed as his fingers lightly brushed against her shoulder. "Don't touch me," she snarled. He chose to ignore her.

Wrapping his hands around her wrists, he twirled her around to face him. "What happened to you, Becky?"

Her teeth ripped into her bottom lip as she bit down, causing it to split open and bleed. "I grew up. I left a fantasy behind, and found the real world. I'll admit it kicked my fucking ass for awhile, but I learned. And I kicked back." Her voice never softened, never wavered, and that scared him. Her drop of the f-word bothered him even more as the girl he once knew would never had said such a thing without an embarrassed blush forming upon her cheeks.

Shaking his head at her, he made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Donnie would have a cow if he heard you talk like that."

"Donnie can fucking bite me," she spat, her eyes narrowing in on him.

Growling, Raphael roughly placed a hand on each of her shoulders, forcing her to look him square in the eye. "Don't you ever say that again. I don't know what your problem is, but don't ever say that about the man you love." His heart ached from those words as he acknowledge her love was not meant for him, but he knew they had to be said to remind her of what she'd left behind.

"Love is bullshit." Her eyes remained locked on his, and she jutted out her jaw, almost as though she were challenging him. Not the smartest thing she'd ever done. Then again, nothing she'd said or done seemed overly intelligent anymore. Raphael decided it was time to change her attitude, and she wasn't going to like his approach. He didn't care.

Before she could take another breath, Raphael lurched towards her to pin her body between him and the wall, his hand balled into a tight fist inches away from her face. She remained rigid, her eyes never leaving his gaze. "What the hell happened to you, Rebecca? How did you become such a heartless, uncaring bitch?"

A grin that reminded Raphael way too much of The Shredder's when he had once slammed his brother Michelangelo's body to the ground spread across her face. He flinched, terrified of her reaction. "Trust me, I learned from the best." She kicked her leg out, sweeping an unprepared Raphael to his knees. Using both hands, she pushed against the turtle with the full weight of her body. Regaining his sound mind, his arms wrapped around her wrists again and he pulled her down on top of him. Then, in a sudden movement, he switched angles, slamming her back into the mat below them, once again pinning his body against hers. Had he not been so frustrated with the girl, he would have found their closeness a fantasy come true.

Warmth brushed his shoulder as angry breaths escaped her flared nostrils. He felt the hardness of her entire body as she tensed, and he saw the hatred in her eyes as she narrowed them in anger. Part of him wanted to throttle her, another part wanted to kiss her and take her right there on the floor. He swallowed both thoughts away.

Using a voice as rough as gravel, he offered a warning. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you can be damn sure I'm not going to put up with it much longer. I don't care if you are my best friend; I will have no problem knocking you on your ass to get you to calm the fuck down."

A growl escaped her lips as she jerked her head up, knocking her forehead into his. His anger flared and he bowed his head into hers, harder than she'd hit him. He watched as her eyes glazed over and she fell back into unconsciousness. Finally, his hard head had been good for something. Releasing his grip, he rolled off of the girl, staring at her face. Carefully lifting her body, he placed her on the futon, and reached into his belt pocket, his fingers touching cold metal.

Rebecca wasn't sure how long she'd been out, or how many times her mind replayed the happier memories of just one short year ago in her mind, but when she awoke, she found her wrists handcuffed to the futon, and one hell of a headache that caused a loud, constant ringing in her ears.

Groaning, she tried to sit up, but between the handcuffs and the dizziness, she decided better of it, and fell back against the pillow under her head. Blinking her eyes open, the blurry image of a turtle with a black eye sitting in a chair beside her came into view. With his hands folded neatly in his lap, he looked over the girl.

Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her. "I will give you one more chance to explain to me just what the hell is wrong with you before I take this entire futon with you still on it and toss it in the river."

"What?" Rebecca asked, her voice finally softening to a more feminine tone.

Raphael shifted in the chair, bringing his hands down to her shoulders. "Tell me why you've become the wicked bitch of the midwest."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, instantly regretting the movement as nausea swam through her head and stomach, forcing her eyes shut. She had no idea how she could ever begin to explain to him all of the problems in her life, all of the misery and pain since she'd left her friends, her family, her entire life behind. And she most certainly wouldn't tell him her dark secret that had caused her to flee New York in the first place.

The sound of metal clinking against metal caught her attention. Deciding the pain in her head was still too much, she didn't bother trying to sit up. Turning her gaze back to the turtle, she let out a long sigh, opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, unsure of the words. After a short pause, and the impatient tapping of Raphael's foot, she finally risked a question. "Where on earth did you get handcuffs?"

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he leaned back in his chair. "I've had these for years. Always have had a little fantasy of you handcuffed to a bed, but for a completely different reason."

Pursing her lips, she stopped herself from rolling her eyes again and instead glared at him. "Why did you come here?"

"Hey, I'm the one asking the questions here. Why did you run away?"

This time she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes, and the queasiness in her stomach returned. Lying back against the pillow, she closed her eyes. "I won't answer that. I won't answer a lot of things."

She heard the squeak of the chair as he stood, then felt the sinking movement of the futon as he sat beside her. His hand slowly slipped into hers but she didn't try to pull away. "Well that's a shame, because I came here for answers." He squeezed her hand, but she couldn't bring herself to squeeze back. "Come back to New York." The gravelly tone in Raphael's voice made the request sound more like a demand.

"That would be a mistake. There's nothing left for me out there anymore. My life is here."

He growled at her. Gesturing his free hand around the small room to try to make a point, his eyes never left her face as he shook his head in her direction. "How is this a life, Rebecca? You're living in isolation, and avoiding the outside world. That's not you. You deserve better than this. Come back to New York with me."

She looked up into his pleading eyes seeing past the hurt to something more. Was it hope? Hell, she couldn't let that happen. With a deep breath, she began to speak as vaguely as possible. "If I did go back, I wouldn't return to the lair," she replied. "Or even to my old apartment. In fact, if I were to go back to New York, I wouldn't even tell you or any of the others where I was staying."

Lowering his head to be closer to hers, he nearly whispered his response. "And why the hell not?"

"Safety."

Raphael's heart sank. He'd remembered all too well each and every time she'd been forced into a fight with the Foot, or taken back to their hideout to face the Shredder, alone. It was because of her friendship with the turtles that her life was now in danger, and the realization that it was truly his and his brothers fault that she'd turned into an anger- filled, fighting machine. She'd had to, to save herself from their enemies, who were now hers.

A small part of him regretted his brothers ever agreeing to help her move into April and Casey's apartment building two years ago. Had they not helped her, the girl would have never met any of them, the foot wouldn't have seen her on a date in the park with Donatello, and they would have left her alone. She'd be free to be a regular twenty-six year old woman, instead of a broken hearted, hunted woman. But it was too late for that. The past couldn't be changed.

Clearing his throat, he softened his voice trying to remain calm for her sake. "You'd be safer at the lair. We'd be able to protect you."

Her eyes fluttered open, and the paleness of the blue struck him. "I didn't mean my safety," she whispered so softly, he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Using his confusion as a diversion, she yanked her hand away from his, a feat made more difficult by the shackles against her wrist. Taking pity on her, Raphael pulled a key from his belt and released her from the handcuffs. Placing her hands on the futon for balance, she forced herself into an upright position, and stared hard at the turtle. "It's not safe for you, or Mikey, or Leo or Splinter, or... Donnie." As she said the final name of the turtle she'd once loved, that she'd left behind a broken hearted mess with no explanation, she couldn't hold back the tears that she'd fought off for so many months.

The sudden tears surprised her, but were welcomed as she finally let herself feel everything she'd avoided since flying out to Oklahoma to leave everyone she cared about behind. She didn't even fight Raphael as he pulled her into his arms, holding her sobbing against his chest, his hand softly running through her hair as he tried to comfort her. Through her sobs, she could hear muffled words coming from the turtle, but her brain refused to string the sounds together into coherent words. Instead, she was lost in the memory of the life she once had, a memory she held on to as her sobs trailed off, and she found herself lost in sleep after the exhaustion of finally breaking down.

Raphael refused to let the girl go as she drifted off to sleep. He couldn't let her go, not ever again. Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her, he carefully fell back on the futon, holding her body against his. It had been so long, too long, since he'd last touched her, and every inappropriate thought he'd ever had involving her rushed back to him. But he'd known all along that she would never be his, and hearing her voice crack as she whispered his brother's name had only reinforced the fact that he'd come to accept so long ago. She still loved Donatello, even if she were too stubborn to admit it.

His phone vibrated against his sai, and he reached into the pocket of his belt to pull it out. As though he'd known his name had been spoken, Donatello's avatar appeared on the Caller ID. Becky shifted slightly on Raphael's chest, but remained asleep as Raphael clicked the icon to answer the call.

"Hey, Don," Raphael whispered, keeping his voice quiet, trying to hide his true emotions from his brother and to keep from waking the sleeping girl in his arms.

An annoyed growl came over speaker of the phone. "Leonardo's worried about you so he has me checking up on you. Would you mind telling me where you've been the past few weeks and why the GPS on your motorcycle has you pinpointed to some place in the middle of Oklahoma?"

Looking down at the sleeping redhead on his chest, Raphael said the only words that came to mind. "Keep your shell on. I'm bringing our girl home."