Raph had become accustomed to having Darielle in his life. She fit easily into his family. He saw her everyday and she seemed to want to see him just as badly as he needed to see her. Since a few weeks had passed in this way, he began to think ahead. Something he had forbidden himself to do too soon. Why think about something that may not be there to think about in a short while? But it seemed they had found a comfortable rhythm. Raph had finally allowed himself to think that, perhaps, the relationship may progress.

Though he would never admit it, he was terrified at what the next step would bring. There were things he could not give her. And while he knew that she was aware on a certain level, he wondered if she had seriously considered what being in a relationship with him meant in the long run. Not even going so far as to think of children, he focused more on the emotional and geographical limitations of his capabilities. He could not give her a home with a white picket fence and flower garden. He could not have a picnic with her in the park. He could not go into a store and buy something for her. He would have to shop online and have it delivered to April's. All he could give her was a segregated life, shunned to the sewer with only him and his family. He didn't want to hold her to that, but he didn't want to let her go, either. He knew that he would never force her to stay with him. He would just try to enjoy every moment she shared with him and hope it lasted another day.

Some days, he even wished he had never known her. That they had never met so that he would not know what he had been missing. Ignorance truly was bliss. Now the fear of losing what he had was far worse than the misery he had endured before just being alone.

He heard a knock on his door.

"What?" Raph yelled.

"The news." Leo answered. Raph looked over at the clock. He hadn't realized what time it was. He liked to catch the morning news because he was usually with Darielle in the evenings. He slept during the day and patrolled in the wee small hours of the night. His anxiety about his relationship caused his temper to flare and he needed action. So he had taken up patrolling again. He was sure Leo knew, but he hadn't said anything.

"Kay, thanks." Raph got up from his desk and went out to take a seat on the couch. Mikey was snoring in the barcalounger with his feet where his head should have been and his head resting on the foot rest. He was snoring. Raph smacked him as he took a seat. Mikey flipped off, startled, and rubbed his eyes.

"Sup? S'going on?" He yawned. Raph rolled his eyes.

"News." Raph put a finger to his lips and Mikey trotted into the kitchen, leaving Raph in peace. Leo had taken Mikey's spot, but sat the correct way. Raph could hear Donnie typing away in the other room. The news report came on and CLANG, clatter clatter clatter. Raph growled and threw himself out of the couch.

"Mikey!" He ran into the kitchen. "Do you mind? Can't a guy watch the news in peace?"

"Sorry. Pot slipped." He pointed to the pot on the floor. He grabbed Mikey by the tails of his mask and dragged him out of the kitchen. "Owowowowow!" Mikey yelled as Raph dragged him from the kitchen.

"Quiet!" Leo snapped. Both Raph and Mikey fell silent. Raph let go of his brother's tails to see what his other brother was listening to.

"Here is some live footage of part of the presentation that has taken the city by storm." A clip of Chief Higgins appeared discussing the Be S.M.A.R.T. campaign on the board, the audience chanting it in the background. The clip ended and went back to a live Chief Higgins being interviewed in front of the station.

"Who is this Officer Rafle? How did he come up with Be S.M.A.R.T? Is he on your force? The tips he has seem to be specific to New York."

"I do not know, nor have I ever met Officer Rafle. His speech writing assistant Darielle Drake informed me he does not like to make public appearances, but I do wish to publicly thank him. Officer Rafle, on behalf of New York City, thank you." The clip ended and went back to the newscaster.

"Well you heard it, right from the Police Chief's mouth. Thank you, Officer Rafle, whoever you are."

"Thanks, Janine! On to other news, the traffic on-" Leo turned off the TV and glared at Rafael.

"Well?" He demanded. Raphael had been staring at the TV and hadn't taken a breath since he heard 'his speech writing assistant Darielle Drake.' "Well!" Leo yelled, standing and grabbing Raphael by the shoulder. Raph swung him off in a smooth motion. "Raph, what is this?"

"I don't know. It can't be me…" Leo gave a condescending look.

"Officer Rafle? Are you kidding me? Raph, they were telling some of the tips before you came in. Things I've heard you say exactly that way a million times! Now what the hell is this?" He pushed Leo away slowly, but firmly.

"I'm gonna find out." He left without another word, slipping into his black outfit for the surface. His blood boiling in his veins. Betrayal. The word kept popping into his head again and again. The entire way to her door his thoughts grew darker and more furious. So much so, that he almost banged down her door. He restrained himself and knocked firmly.

"Hello!" She smiled, standing aside to let him in. She couldn't see his face through the visor, or she never would have let him in. He heard her close the door behind him and he took off his helmet. Not turning around to face her. He needed a moment to calm down.

"So," He began darkly. "Why is our private discussion being shown on television?"

"What?" She asked, confused. Still not turning to face her, he turned on the TV to another channel that was also discussing Officer Rafle. He finally turned around to look at her and saw her face drain. Seconds ago she had been bubbly and happy and now she looked ill and afraid. She needed to be afraid.

"What is this?" He demanded. Her eyes were wide, like a doe frozen. "What. Is. This." He shouted when she didn't answer him.

"I…I just wrote something…I just…"

"You wrote somethin' about me?" He attacked.

"No! Just…I..just…used your words."

"So I'm Officer Rafle?" She nodded weakly. He lost all patience.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? The danger you've put me and my family in?"

"I didn't think-"

"I know you didn't think!" He shouted. "That's what makes you dangerous! You've pointed them in my direction! They're curious and you won't give 'em an answer. That'll make 'em pester you more! You've given them someone to ask about! And how long will you last? Days, months? Do you think my family can live with that over their heads? Wondering if one day you'll slip up and let somethin' go? Send someone onto our trail?" She had backed away from him, her hands to her face. "Why? Why would you do this? How could you?" He pushed the desk chair next to him violently away and sent it skidding onto its side.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She hadn't meant for this to happen. She didn't want him to be in danger. What had she done? He took a long breath and tried to speak in an even, calm voice.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You listenin'?" She nodded. "You're gonna call the press. I don't care who you talk to as long as it gets aired just as publicly, got it? Then you're gonna take credit for everythin'. Tell them there is no Officer Rafle, that you made him up. Got it?" She nodded. "And they better believe you." He threatened. He picked up the motel phone on her desk and moved it closer to her. "Call."

She stepped up to the phone and bent over her desk. She used the internet on her open lap top to find a news station phone number. She called and scheduled an interview while Raphael intently watched her, his eyes never wavering from her. She hung up the phone and looked to the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed, exhausted and hurt.

"Why?" He asked. "Why wouldja do this?" He couldn't see her face; her hair formed a silken curtain. But he saw two teardrops fall onto the desk surface.

"I just wanted to help people." She whispered. He sighed. His anger was ebbing away slowly.

"I can understand wantin' to help people. I can. But the ends don't justify the means, ya know? I mean you musta known it was wrong to do or you woulda said somethin' to me about it." He watched her a moment, believing she hadn't intended any of this. "Look, we have to live very carefully. Kay? It's dangerous for the wrong people to know about us and little things can end up doin' a lota harm. I shoulda explained that better. C'mere." He patted the bed beside him. She didn't look over. She didn't move.

"Look, I'm sorry I got angry. I…I got a bit of a temper. I do. I can't change that. It's who I am."

"I know." She said flatly. "You like to hit things." His heart stopped and his body froze.

"Darielle," He pleaded. "Not you. Never you." She kept still. "I would never lay a hand on you in anger. Never. I got angry, I do that. But that doesn't mean I don't still love you. I do, please. C'mere." He begged softly. She had turned her head in order to see his face. She still looked uncertain about him.

"You…love me?" He froze again, embarrassed. He hadn't meant to say that. He was going to say it when he felt that she would be willing to hear it. But it had just slipped out. He had loved her for a while now, ever since she had given him the book of warrior poetry.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

"Yeah." He admitted. "But, I mean..don't…you just.." He sighed in frustration. "Look…you don't have to say anythin'. Kay? I mean, I love you, but it's…free. I mean…I don't love you only if you love me back, I just…do. So you don't have to…" She had started to walk towards him, distracting him from his poorly formed words. She sat down next to him, but still away from him, on the edge of the bed.

"I…believe you." She said. "When you thought I was leaving…you said I would always have a friend in New York." He nodded.

"I meant it." He defended.

"I thought it was fake." She spoke to herself.

"I meant it." He repeated.

"Love, I mean. I thought it was fake, amyth. Something people made up to make them think there was something better out there. I didn't really believe…" She trailed off.

"What happened to you?" He asked gently. "I've been shunned by almost every human on the planet but I think I get love better'n you."

"I love you, too. Raphael. I've just…I've been afraid that you're a dream. That you're in my head and that one day I'll wake up and find you were never really here. I don't want to wake up."

"Hey," He moved over closer to her. "I ain't no dream. I mean, don't you think you would dream of somethin' human?"

"No." She said abruptly and with hint of what Raphael suspected to be hatred.

"No?"

"Everything you are…everything you are is what I want." She ran a hand gently down his face, studying how her hand moved with his curves.

"You have no idea how much I wanna believe that." He said, taking her hand. "But I don't think you really understand what that means." All his fears from just this morning came bubbling up again.

"No, I do."

"No." He stood, breaking their connection. He huffed impatiently. "I can't give you a life up here. You know? I live in the sewer. Always will. I can't give you a cute little house with a pretty little garden with neighbors to exchange sugar and milk with. I can't give you a night at the movie theatre, laughin' with the crowd. I can never be a parta this world. I can visit, but it isn't mine. And you would be reminded of that every day and I think it would get to you and I wouldn't blame you."

"I don't want those things." She said simply.

"Yeah, you say that now…"

"I. Don't. Want. Those. Things." She repeated clearly.

"Why?" He demanded, frustrated. "Why not? I want those things! Normal people want those things. Why wouldn't you?" She stood up and walked away.

"I just don't."

"Oh, no." He warned. "You are not gettin' away with this tonight. You're gonna to talk to me because these are things that need to be said. Why don't you want those things?"

"Just accept it." She pleaded.

"Not without a reason. Just explain it to me! It's me! If you love me like you say then explain it! Talk to me!"

"I think you should leave." She hitched. She wasn't going mechanical, this was different. She seemed to be getting ready for a panic attack. "Please, just go…just for now."

"No. Either you want me or you don't. It's plain as that." She looked at him, helpless.

"Don't do this…"

"Do you or don't you?"

"Please…"

"You have to make a choice, Darielle. 'Cause I can't read your mind. Just tell me where I stand. Either you want me here or you don't." His voice was escalating.

"I…don't." She answered. She turned and went into her bathroom and turned around to look at him. "I'll have the interview. They'll believe me. I promise." Then she closed the door and he heard her lock it.

That was it. It was over. He couldn't believe it had happened like this. Had he pushed her? Was it wrong to want answers? Didn't a relationship depend on communication? Or had she been trying to slowly peel herself away from his death tight grip? Was she afraid to tell him the truth? That she really was disgusted by him and that she didn't want to be near him? He really needed to beat something up. He grabbed his helmet and slammed the door behind him so she knew he was gone and that it was safe.

He looked out at the empty alleyway and he knew that New York would feel his anger tonight. It was not a good time to be a criminal.