Raphael knew… He finally understood. April O'Neil was his ultimate doom - the infinite fixation of his desire, balancing at the very edge of craving.

It was futile to fight this! He was already defeated, feeling as defenseless, and ultimately as rapt, as the first time he participated in a real combat. The real thing! (Not some overseen practice in the dojo back at home, where he could rely on his brothers or sensei, but an actual combat in real life, where he remained naked and all alone against his adversary). Utterly exposed and loony from hormones, he was struggling not to lose a hold of himself at any cost. All he could think.. feel.. smell.. taste.. experience… was April. His entire existence concentrated on her. Every thought leading to her. Every nerve in his body asking for her.

April lay forward, crushing her breasts onto the solid of his chest-plates, "You really wore me out, you know…"

The turtle looked at the girl lying on top of him, still unable to believe what was in front of his eyes, and what went on mere minutes ago. It all happened so fast, he felt like he barely had a chance to comprehend any of it. In attempt of self control, he gathered all his emotions and impressions, tucked them deep into his shell, and obtaining a cushy, light expression, delivered his most tranquil smile: "Eh, ya' okay?" and gently tucked a stray wisp of messy red behind her tiny ear.

She bit on her knuckle, smirking at him: "You're kidding, right?" and laughed, but it wasn't the kind of hysterical laughter from before; this was an easy-going, cute, happy giggle that made the freckles on her nose dance happily. "I had no idea, Raph... (giggle) I mean, you just kept going and going!"

The tone of her voice was back to normal; no more lustful growling and grunting, this was the April he knew and adored. His April: gentle, witty, warmhearted, and so, so beautiful!

"Mmm..." - was all he could squeeze out of himself at that moment.

"Turns out it was exactly what I needed." She smiled at him, stretching on top of his chest and purring like a cat.

"It was my pleasure!" - he fired, right away catching himself on the irony. The hothead felt his face burning up. He didn't want to move and he didn't know exactly what to do next. He cleared his throat, "Was it… um.. you mean.. did I do good?"

April shrieked a little. Leaning on her arms, spread on both sides of his body, she looked up into his eyes: the emerald adoration, reflecting her own feelings. "Raphael, you have a natural talent in you. That..." She pulled up and gently kissed his lips, "...that was amazing! Congratulations, my sweet mutant… rest assured now… eh… until next time…"

Next time!?

The mess of feelings inside him, only a moment ago gradually regulating and settling down, now burst out in a new eruption. NEXT TIME. She said next time! This felt so incredibly good. Ah, so good! Was she for real? Or was it just the inevitable pick of some sort of hormonal fixation?

Ugh, did I just think up a totally Donatello kind of moralization? Donnie ! Oh, shell! What am I gonna tell D?

But his troubling thoughts died away all at once at the face of April's sudden and unpredictable request. Hugging him tightly with her arms and legs, she whispered sleepily: "Stay here with me tonight..?"

Stay!?

He was about to wait till she fell asleep, then get up and awkwardly see himself out, but… she asked him to stay! She didn't want to get rid of him or forget what happened. SHE WANTED TO DO THIS AGAIN... Raphael smiled, catching himself on a realization that he succeeded in making April feel good, and even making her want more. Still astounding, in his eyes, was of course, the fact that he never imagined he would ever even get that far. He lay there like some kind of a half-wit, unable to take his eyes away. Because this girl was a sight too unbelievable to endure: beautiful red hair, cascading down her bare back like some mysterious river from another world, compelling his gaze to go further towards her perfectly shaped behind, ascending under his green palms (he was trying to cover up all the frisky freckles), two wonderfully soft lumps - her breasts, pressing against his plastron, as he could feel her heartbeat so close to his own, her delicate scent... Looking at April as if for the first time, he felt a new fire awakening inside him, his love growing and expending. It was all real, and right here. And it was his!

But was she? Was she really his?

Raphael's musings traveled against his will across town, to a certain second floor apartment with its peeling walls and dirty floors, always ready and welcoming cold beer, and somehow forever open door or window... a place, a sanctuary, where he knew he was always wanted and accepted, loved and appreciated no matter what.

Driving those thoughts away, Raphael put his arms around the girl's slender shoulders and closed his eyes. His mind was far from being at ease, and the thought of the impending serious talk with Mr. Jones was not about to leave him be, let alone make him feel at peace. However, something inside him kept telling him that it was going to be alright. It had to be!

He breathed in deeply and slowly let the air out, watching April's beautiful head rise and fall with his chest. And when the breathing of two bodies, so different, so unbelievably contradictory, yet so accurately adjusted, became even, moving identically in a synchronized unison, Raphael sighed and softly whispered into the stuffy air of her dark bedroom: "I love you…"

Back to nowadays…

The door was only half closed and April could see some of the room's contents. She couldn't believe how long it had been since she stepped into this room the last time.

The first thing that caught her eye was a mess of colorful rolls of wool disorderly filling every corner. They were everywhere, all the shelves, on the table, in between other scattered things on the floor. There were some on top of the bed, between the sheets, at the far back... Involuntarily, her hand moved up toward her neck, fingers feeling about where she wore her scarf almost all year long, the very special one.. handmade, red scarf…

Wavering for a while- stepping into his room without permission when Raphael was away, would have been unwise, to say the least, in the past, but now -the woman gently pushed the door just a teeny tiny bit, so she could get a glimpse. A number of rusty darts, ninja stars, old bent sai and.. (was it a kitchen knife?) were sticking out from the wall just opposite her. A target ring, painted with red chalk right there on the very surface, encircled them within its limits. A self-made skateboard, taking a rest in one of the corners, with various well-adjusted wheels, evidently assembled from different sets. Years have passed since it had been used. A lonely, worn out guitar forgotten on the floor. It'd been so long since she had heard him play it… so long since she had heard him sing…

Old posters hanging from the wall were mostly motorcycles and rock musicians… and some family photos. Those were so old, many of them turned yellow with time. April knew the turtles didn't have that many photos from their childhood, since Master Splinter was very cautious not to get them exposed to what he used to call THE WORLD'S EYE, because "one picture proving their existence in the wrong hands may turn into a dangerous weapon".Therefore, the Hamatos didn't have any family albums or anything of that kind. And so, this particular photo collage, so rare and so clearly intimate, probably meant the world to Raphael, as he kept it on the wall, at head of his bed all these years. The woman smiled sadly and slightly narrowed her eyes to try and make out those familiar, but well forgotten images.

In one of the pictures four turtle-brothers were mere children, six-seven years old maybe. It was clearly taken against Splinter's will. Rat-dad looked very displeased on the background, while in the front the brothers stood together: Donatello and Leonardo smiling into the camera, holding it from two opposite sides, in the center Raphael crushing Michelangelo in what looked like a deadly hug, the little freckled turtle suffocating with laughter. April couldn't help but smile self-indulgently. All four were partially covered with different kinds of food. This must've been taken after a successful food fight - everybody looked dirty, but happy, except for the moody rat behind their backs… (so much to clean up: disobedient children, all that mess in the kitchen and probably some in the hallway as well…)

In another picture, teenage Raph was standing in a standard fighting position facing Leo, while the others were neatly sitting on the tatami to the side. Initiation day! Some serious sparring went on that day and April knew all about it. The turtles told her this story many, many times, and every time some little detail would change, depending on the one who was retelling it. To sum up: Leo and Raph were the last ones standing. They sparred for hours, unwilling to give up, but eventually (somehow) Leo took lead. Still, despite it all, this historically annoying (probably humiliating) moment for Raphael found its way onto this legendary wall of family memorabilia, bringing a soft, innocent smirk onto April's face.

Another picture was of the old farmhouse at summer time, and April recognized her younger self sitting on a tree-swing, grinning and waving at the camera, while Mike was sneaking behind her back, getting ready to startle, or tickle, or any other Mikey-ish idea of a funny prank. Donnie took this one, she could remember it as if it was yesterday. His spellbound expression and the way he looked at her… April shut her eyes on the very verge of tears, and smiled through her pain thinking about the way he used to be - her young, innocent brainiac and his peculiar ways. So much has changed…

In another photo, there they were: the two hotheads of her life! April vividly remembered the day she took that photo with her own old camera. Grinning from ear to ear, Casey was hugging Raphael from behind. The turtle looked satisfied and unusually calm. His gaze, turned toward the camera, was full of emotion.

April sighed involuntarily, because that day, over a decade ago, everything changed in her life…

"'Dis dream… it was somethin' else!" Nervous notes evident in his tone, Raphael was leaning on a railing just at the edge of the roof, "We was all tiny babies, jus' hatched out of our eggs… mindlessly scrawling around in our glass tank, tryin'a figure out the word an' all. And 'der's Leo and Donnie, but I can't see Mikey anywhere… I know he's supposed to be 'der, I feel somethin's not right, he's jus' gone! And s' not like I could ask or anythin', I mean I'm just a dumb pet baby-turtle, right? So I start looking for'im… I circle that stupid glass tank twice before on the third time I come around Mike's egg. And it's hatched! So I'm thinking: ok, then he must be around somewhere, right? And then…" he paused, looking straight ahead, "I dunno why, but I feel like he's gone! I mean GONE! I can't explain it… 'dis feeling! It was so … It's like, I couldn't feel'is presence anymore… And ya' know what was de wors' part? I couldn' do a freaking thin' about it... "

Casey squeezed his friend's shoulder, unable to find the right words. Things were not great, but Raph was finally talking to him again, opening up after all these years.

"O'course, it was just a stupid dream..." Raphael pulled slightly away, avoiding Casey's touch, "Anyhow, I almost thought I lost you today..." - abruptly changing the subject, the turtle smirked and handed the man a cold beer, "But look at'chu, walking an' everythin', ya' ugly cripple!"

The vigilante grinned, accepting the offered drink of eternal friendship, and seeing how Raphael, in his own way, appreciated his presence, lovingly punched his green buddy on his bare shoulder. And after taking a sip, he looked down toward his healing legs, which were now thoroughly wrapped and patched by the miraculous hands of Dr. Brainy D (bless the exalted intellect of his precious technological soul and magical healing touch!), and what seemed like for the billionth time, he internally scolded himself for ever abandoning his friends, his family!

The dirty trick the Foot came up with, once more, unquestionably left a severe mark on Casey Jones. Back in Tokyo it was ugly... he spent days, weeks, months recovering. But scars and broken bones were not the worst damage. Casey's spirit was broken that horrible night away from home, 5 years ago, leaving no place for forgiveness or for common sense. He was blinded by rage, blaming it all on the everlasting unfairness of the world, on his 'luck', on the turtles... he couldn't find his place, a lost, lonely soul in a huge foreign city. But later on, when the first shock slowly descended, and finally made place for grief, another tragedy hit like a tsunami, crushing everything on its way. April was gone. She left him... And then, only then, when it seemed like his soul would never be whole again, all alone and broken, Casey had time to think, and put everything in order inside his head, and inside his heart.

And in time, he went back home. But alas, New York did not welcome its 'hero' with open arms. Once a glorious vigilante, Casey Jones was defeated from within, his heart broken, without a chance for recompense, as it seemed. He shut himself in his apartment, forced to lay low and lick his wounds, struggling to erase April and the accursed turtles from his mind forever, trying to mend what was left of his miserable existence. But life has its mysterious ways. And, what were the chances? Could it be his ultimate fate to be forever cursed by the presence of those crazy mutants in his life?

Casey certainly hoped so! Remembering all the horrible things he used to think about his mutant friends, at moments of weakness, in those god-forsaken days, now he was more than happy to finally have a chance to prove how wrong he was and what was truly important to him all along. He knew now that his place was here, not somewhere over the seas, chasing a silly dream of a normative (boring) life. That was not his destiny, not his cup of tea, not his can of beer. He never wanted that life in the first place. Why did he run away? Well, what did you expect from a hotheaded, messed-up man, who almost lost everything, or at least he thought so then... But now? Now that he had the time to heal and actually analyze it all to himself, comprehending everything that had happened, he knew that what he lost was not his fault, nor the turtles'...

"Thank God we got 'der on time!" - he softly grunted under his nose, breaking the silence.

"Yeah..." - sighed Raphael, nodding and looking somewhere far away, over the rooftops. Warm breeze, softly played with the shabby ends of his bandana in the dark. Casey has always found it a bit mesmerizing.

Here on the roof the two old friends felt at home. All those nights spent together, patrolling the city: running around, kicking ass of law-offenders, beating up Purple Dragons, fighting and resisting the Foot.

"We'll find'im and get'im to safety soon. Ya' know we will! Stop moping..."

"I know!" - snatched Raphael, "An' I aint mopin'!" He finished his beer, and smashing the used can into something that resembled a metallic pancake, he suddenly winked at Casey: "Think fast, gap-mouth!" and threw it up in the air.

The vigilante had to be swift to pull out his hockey stick, in order to hit the mark and force the newly made puck catapult and hit the nearest garbage-can down below. They both watched as it smoothly found its rightful place between a banana peel and greasy plastic bag. Raphael gave Casey a satisfied look and raised his palm for high-three. Grinning from ear to ear, Casey shoved his winning weapon away and high-fived his friend, getting a strong grip of Raph's hand, shaking it in the air, and eventually pulling with all his might, forcing an unexpected and abrupt embrace. And as they stood together, Casey pressing his ribs into hard plastron, Raphael furtively cherishing the moment, for a short while they were back to their old selves: frivolous, careless and happy! The inseparable knuckleheads - Raphael and Casey, best buds.

As unexpected as it started, the hug was over, scattered emotions dissolving into the cool night air. Somewhat embarrassed, they turned their backs to each other and stood in total silence, each one thinking up a way to forbear the deed.

And something in that moment, that certain place, or maybe that circumstance, made Casey feel an incredible need to say the words he knew should have been said many years ago. Now seemed like the right time. He had to let it out, to be utterly and completely honest. In this moment of loss, worry and somewhat triumph of their friendship, now or never, he would let Raphael in, as he found it unbearable to keep the truth hidden away any longer.

"Raph..." The man awkwardly scratched at a non existent itch at the back of his head, and the turtle turned to look at him again. Sheepishly smiling, obviously avoiding the turtle's gaze, Casey hastily blurted: "'Dat time you came ta' me in 'da middle of 'da night.. an' told me how April and yourself…" he coughed into his fist, unwilling to pinpoint the obvious details.

Raphael immediately nodded, raising his palm in front of the man's face as to let him know he didn't want to hear any more, since they both understood what he was referring to.

"I know! I know..." - continued Casey, "We said we wouldn't talk about it again... But hold on, man.. lemme get it out of my system, ok? I've been holding it in fa' years! And 'der might not be a better time…" He fiddled with his precious hockey stick for another moment, "Anyways, when ya' said.. eh, what'cha said back then, Raph, I…" The vigilante sighed and looked into the green, confused face. His hand jerked up and involuntarily brushed Raph's arm-bicep for a split of a second, but quickly restraining himself, Casey forced it back down, grabbing his weapon and pushing it tighter to his chest.

The nervous shake of Casey's hand and the way his lips were pursed when he all of a sudden fell silent, choking on his own words, made it more obvious to Raphael that his old-time buddy was questioning his own relevance, internally judging what he was about to let out! The turtle braced himself and got ready for the worst scolding of the century he believed he was about to endure. For better or for worse, however, he was determined to eat it all up and shut his mouth.. just let Casey be out with all that stocked up crap, building invisible walls between them. Now that the two of them (and April) were finally reunited, he wanted (needed) a clean slate. Therefore, taking a long deep breath, bracing himself, the turtle leaned back and listened.

"I was upset…" There appeared a short, nervous and somewhat mysterious smile on Casey's face, "I was upset not because of April.. Yeah, I love'er! No doubt, I do! But… 'dat night I put my fist through the wall only because I thought I was losing you, Raph!" Muttering under his nose, the man turned away, pretending to look at the horizon, "'Der, I said it, it needed to be said…"

The turtle blinked in confusion. No scolding? No blame? No pain? No drama? What's that all about? Dumbfounded, he kept staring at Casey. The man looked miserable, so embarrassed and so out of place, hugging his stupid hockey stick, like it was some kind of a safety object that could teleport him out of here in a second. Raphael couldn't believe his ears. Casey Jones has just confessed his feelings! Discreet feelings that Raphael was always aware of, deep inside, he always knew they were there, but never thought would come out of his friend's mouth, since the 'right' way to deal with them would be to ignore and to disregard their existence. Right? RIGHT?

"Case… what?" Raphael's forehead glistened with light perspiration, "What'chu mean exactly?"

"Ya' know what! And don' make me repeat any o' 'dat!" - muttered the man under his nose, "Ya' not exactly the smartest turtle, but ya' sure don' lack any emotional intelligence... we both know it!"

"Casey..." Raphael took out another beer and, chugging the whole thing in one sip, exclaimed: "Ya' really are somethin' else my dear Mr. Jones, ya' know that?!"