SUNNI

Chapter Five

She tried to pull the sheet over her bare shoulder and was aware of something holding it down, preventing it from moving. Sunni rolled over and opened her eyes and saw him lying still in her bed, and remembered. It startled her, the strange dark face on her pillow, the sun filtering in her window and falling on his very green shoulder.

She sat up, carefully so as not to awaken him, and pulled on her lacy dressing gown. Her toe brushed against something hard and cold lying on the carpet, and she looked down at the pair of weapons he had worn stuck in his belt. Sunni frowned. She had meant to ask him about them, but there were so many things she had wanted to ask him and there had not been much opportunity for talking last night.

The coffee pot was beckoning, but she paused and instead found herself still sitting on the side of the bed, watching him sleep. She studied his face in the morning light, committing his features to memory. Under the high ridge of his brow, closed lids covered his large eyes, and the curve of his nose narrowed to a slight ridge at the center. The texture of his skin was pebbly, not exactly rough, but not smooth, either. His wide mouth was softened in sleep; looking different from the hard line it seemed to be so much of the time while he was awake. That is, it was a hard line until he broke into that devilish grin that Sunni had decided weeks ago was something she had no defense against. It was always hard for her not to show what she was feeling. She had to really work not to let him know what his wild, mad dog look did to her

Her eyes followed the curve of his deltoids where it met the hefty bulge of his biceps, and over the tendons in his forearm. She noticed again the strips of leather binding his wrists, and wondered what those were for. Sunni narrowed her eyes, pausing, seeing also now in the growing light, the places where the green skin was lighter, and raised. Tracings of several deep scars, and many shallower ones, criss-crossed his arm. Sunni looked back at his face, and realized the line that ran over his right eye, from brow to cheek bone, was yet another deep scar. That one looked new. She leaned closer, finding more fine lines, on his face, covering the heavy knuckles on his hands, a deep gouge across the hard, golden- brown breastplate.

"My God…" Sunni breathed, and Raphael opened his eyes.

"Uhm," he said, and drew in a deep breath.

"Hey," said Sunni. "You sleep ok?"

"Mh hm," he said, his eyes wandering around the room sleepily, and then coming back to her. "Wha' time is it?"

"Nine-fifteen."

Raphael closed his eyes. "Oh, man. They're gonna kill me."

"Who?"

A faint smile brushed over his mouth. "My family."

"I was going to make some coffee," said Sunni. "You want some?"

"Nuh uh," he said. "Come here."

Sunni moved closer to him and he reached for her, and pulling her down to him. He wrapped his arms around her and she settled against him, her back pressed along his hard plastron. Raphael sighed and nuzzled her shoulder.

Sunni laid her hands over his, fingertips tracing the healed wounds there. It was going to drive her crazy. She had to know. "Raphael," she said softly. "What are all these from?"

"Mh?" he answered.

She rolled over to face him, still in his arms, rising up on one elbow. She looked again at the thick, pale gash over his eye. "Who did this to you?"

"Did what?"

"All this." She touched his face, and then a deep gouge on his plastron. "Who did all this to you?"

He didn't open his eyes, but made another small noise in the back of his throat. "No one. I live on the street. You know about that."

"Yeah, I know about that, but this - this is – this looks excessive. Not like some ordinary stree-"

"Excessive?" His eyes still closed, Raphael's mouth pulled up into an amused half-smile. "Yeah, I get called 'excessive' all the time…"

"I'm not making a joke. Did someone out there do this to you?"

"No. I mean, well, yeah, but it's not like what you think." He opened his eyes, and saw the deeply upset look on Sunni's face. "Hey…" he said softly.

"Was it someone you know?" She was close to angry tears.

"No, no. It's nothing like that. Look," he took a deep breath and pulled her closer against him. "This is another one of those things I can't explain to you, ok? Just….just let it be."

She heard in his voice, and felt in the strength of his arms holding her firmly, that there was no point in pursuing this. The mystery deepened again. In the moments she had felt she came closest to him, when she stood as close to the fire as she could, he would slip away, shadow-like, from her understanding again.

While Sunni might stop outwardly questioning him for a moment, her mind was not about to let it be. She couldn't bear to think of him being hurt and her imagination had gone right to the horrendous picture. She could see a gang of people, teenagers, and grown men, harassing him, torturing him in some dark alley because of what he was. Of course he wouldn't want to tell her about that. He must, she thought, feel shame that someone would attack him for not looking human. He surely must be hiding from that awful feeling, whatever it was, that kept him from showing himself to her in the first place. She tried, but she couldn't stop the scenario from unfolding in her mind: a gang of faceless people, holding him down, cutting him… Her pulse pounded in a growing outrage. This is wrong! This is so wrong!

"Raphael," she said quietly. "I understand you don't want to talk about it, but will you please tell me if there's anything at all I can do to help you?"

He regarded her solemnly for a moment, blue-gray eyes taking all of her in. "Actually," he said, "yes, there is." His serious expression dissolved into a wicked little grin. "There is something you could do for me right now."

"Raph, I need to talk to you."

Raphael sunk deeper into the couch, tucking his chin further below the collar of his coat. He considered pretending to be asleep, but was fairly sure that even if he actually were, he'd get woken up anyway. Not that he could sleep with all the banging and hammering going on in the next room. He had been trying without success for half an hour. With Splinter meditating in the sleeping passage, the couch had been the only option, though it certainly was not working out. He sighed and rolled his eyes over to the end of the couch.

Leonardo sat, perched up on the armrest, his feet on the cushions. "Look, I know you didn't want to come back here to the City. I don't think any of us were very excited about it at first, but you know it's what Splinter wanted. It's what he believes we needed. And the thing is, we all need to pull together to make the best of it. Don is working his ass off. Mike's busy every day scouting for stuff we need- "

"Ok, Leo, I get it. I'm the weak link. Again."

"I didn't say that. What I'm saying is we have to work together. That's where our strength is. You know that. I think that's one of the most important lessons that was brought home last Christmas; that we are a team, that we need each other-"

"Aw Leo, cut the crap. You killed Oroku Saki. Not us-"

"And how far do you think I'd have gotten without the rest of you?"

Raphael turned away. "That's a bad example, Leo. That meant so much more than an exercise in teamwork."

"I know that. But the point is -"

"The point is you want to tell me I've been screwing up by not helping to put this place together. I know."

Leonardo dropped his head and rubbed his eyes with one hand. He sighed. "Where have you been going, Raph?"

Raphael stared at the front door and shook his head.

"You could at least tell me that much."

"It's none of your business, Leo."

"No, no, you're wrong. It is my business. It's all of our business because it affects all of us."

"The only thing that affects you is me not being here."

"Yes, it does. But it's more than that. Yeah, there's more work for all of us if you're not here to help, but there's also the feeling that a part of us is missing. There's a responsibility here Raph, and we all have to share it. I don't know what you've been doing or where you've been going, but since you're not telling me, it's probably not any place you should be -"

Raphael abruptly stood up. "I don't have to listen to this," he said.

Leonardo gazed at him, eyes narrowing. "You know, this is so familiar somehow…"

"Yeah, well, happy déjà vu." Raphael started toward the doorway.

"You're not leaving again." It was almost a question, but not quite.

Raphael spun around, raising a warning finger. "Don't go there, Leo."

Mike poked his head through the kitchen doorway. He was covered with a fine coating of sawdust and had shoved a pair of cracked safety glasses up on his forehead, which left dark circles around his eyes and over the bridge of his nose where the sawdust had not settled. The net effect was something resembling a large green raccoon. Behind Mike, the sounds of hammering continued. "Hey Raph!" he called. "Can you get any more of that macaroni and cheese mix? 'Cause if you can, I can mix it up with a can of tomato sauce and that hamburger meat you came home with last night, and we can have Chili Mac." Mike grinned endearingly.

Raphael smirked back. "Yeah, Mike. I think I can get more of that. You think that meat's gonna be ok by tonight?"

"Mike!" It was Donatello's voice. "I could still use a hand in here."

"Got it on ice, bro," Mike said to Raph. "You know that little chest I found -"

"Cool," said Raphael.

Leonardo exhaled, his shoulders dropping in momentary defeat. But it was only momentary. He considered the concrete floor for an instant and then raised his eyes to his brother, his head still lowered. "Where are you getting the food from, Raph?" he asked in his absolute no-nonsense tone.

Raphael snorted. "Where do you think, Leo? I've been shopping at Super Savers." He shook his head and started to turn away again.

"I mean, who are you getting it from?"

"What do you care who?" Raphael shouted. "I get it. Isn't that enough?"

"So it is someone and not someplace," said Leo evenly.

"Yeah, yeah, ok. Ok!" Raphael threw his arms up. "It is someone. There. You happy now?"

"No, I don't think so. Who is it?"

Raphael closed his eyes and stood still. He took a deep breath. Mike froze in the kitchen doorway, glancing anxiously back and forth between the two. "Hey, uh, you know it doesn't have to be Chili Mac…" he said

"Who?" repeated Leo icily.

"It- " Raphael unclenched his fists with some effort. "It's just a person, Leo. Just someone who wants to help."

"How much do they know?"

"Nothin'. She doesn't know anything."

"She?"

"She?" echoed Mike with sudden interest.

"Aw, cripes." Raphael looked up toward a corner of the room, where the gray cinderblock wall met the sloping ceiling. "Yeah. She. She works for restaurants and smuggles food out for poor people."

Michaelangelo had come into the room now, the forgotten saw still in his hand. "This isn't the person who wrote the note I found in the bag, is it?"

Raphael glowered at him, betrayal in his eyes. "Yeah, Mike. The same one."

"So, what…you've been talking to this girl for over a month now?" asked Leonardo.

"Yeah, about that. Look, she's cool. She's a good person. She really cares about other people."

"Ok, ok," said Leonardo. "But how do you know-? I mean, what kind of guarantee do we have that she won't go talking about what she's seen?"

"No more than we had with April. Or Casey. C'mon Leo. You know we've taken risks before."

Leonardo sighed. "Ok, but that was different."

"How was that different? Because you called April that first time? Because you didn't meet Casey 'til he saved our butts that night?"

Leonardo passed a hand over his eyes. "No, no. You know that's not what I mean…"

"Well, what do you mean, Leo?"

"I mean, you go see her, you get some food, and you're gone for two days? What are you doing ?"

Raphael raised his arms, widening his eyes. "We talk…about her work. And stuff."

"Talk? For two days?"

"Ok. I've, ah…I've made deliveries for her. I've taken food to people living in doorways and on steam vents. And you know what bites, Leo? It's mostly kids. I mean, there's a grown up or two, and then there's like two, three kids, younger than six. It's like—I don't understand it. They're so much worse off than us. And it's kids!"

Leonardo started to answer, but Donatello called from the kitchen. "Mike, I need you to hold this thing-" and Michaelangelo reluctantly stepped back into the kitchen, his neck craned around as he tried not to miss anything.

"Ok, I understand why you'd want to help her with that, though that's another risk," said Leonardo. "It's homeless people, ok, but have they seen you? And that still doesn't explain you being gone for days at a time."

He had already confessed more than he had ever intended. It didn't seem it would make much difference if he made a clean sweep of it. Besides, he had something now that he knew Leo did not. He had, in his eyes, arrived at adulthood before his "older" brother. It would be interesting to throw that at him. And now that he thought about it, he truly could not pass up the opportunity to see the look on Leo's face. He fought back the smirk that tugged at his mouth.

"Ok. I'll tell ya where I've been. I've been at her apartment." He lowered his voice so that only Leonardo would hear. "I've been spending the night with her. In her bed."

He wasn't disappointed. Leonardo's jaw dropped.

Raphael grinned, seeing he how neatly he had just stopped Leo dead in his tracks. With no small amount of flourish he snatched his hat off the heap of cardboard boxes and wood scraps by the door, and jammed it down on his head. "I'll be back with the macaroni and cheese," he announced loudly for Mike and Don's benefit, and slipped out through the front doorway, into the dark sewer tunnel, feeling liberated and powerful.

"What'd he say?" asked Mike, sticking his head through the doorway again.

"Nothing…uh...nothing." Leonardo, still stunned, stood gaping at the canvas flap over the door. "He said he'd get the macaroni and cheese."

Frere Etienne presented an entirely different situation in order for Raphael to meet Sunni. It turned out to be a better arrangement though, than at the Regency. A smaller restaurant, not attached to any hotel, Etienne's had no large service yard, but it did have a deep basement that could be accessed through a partially caved-in service tunnel that branched off from an abandoned subway line. Sunni had discovered the small, crumbling basement while nosing around her new work environment, and after explaining where it was to Raphael, he had quickly found the route from the underground.

The first night they had met in the basement she had not yet finished her shift. Raphael had kissed her in the dark, pressing her up against the packed dirt and rock wall, refusing to let her go. He cradled the back of her head in one hand while the other moved up under her blouse. Sunni had made some high-pitched, gaspy little sounds in her throat and struggled to get free, eventually fiercely pushing him back. He wasn't sure if she understood he had let her do so, or if she thought she had actually won on her own muscle power.

"I have to get back to work!" she laughed, smoothing her hair back into her ponytail. "You are about incorrigible!"

"Yeah. And I don't hear you complaining."

Sunni moved in and quickly kissed his mouth, then skipped out of reach, laughing. She bounded up three of the granite stairs, paused to shoot him a gleeful little smile and then ran up the rest of the way. "Don't leave!" she'd called. "I'm off in twenty minutes."

Raphael had leaned back against a two by four that at one time served as a support post, and grinned to himself. He felt good. She made him feel good. When he was with her, he was at peace with the world, and Raphael couldn't remember the last time he had felt like that.

Now he slipped into the basement once again, dipping his head under a low beam that angled into the rock and dirt wall. Without the small light bulb on, it was pitch black in the basement and the floor was covered with broken stuff: disconnected piping, glass and rotting boards. Stepping carefully, Raphael moved by feel to the far wall. Rusted lines ran down from overhead and ended near the ground where they had been capped off. At one time they may have been part of the building's water system, but not anymore. They did, however, still connect to the one in current use, somewhere between the floors. Raph's hands found the loose piece of pipe he had left leaning against the stairs, and rapped on the water line that ran into the wall.

It only took Sunni five minutes to get away after hearing the pinging sound on the kitchen pipes. He heard her light feet tripping down the stairway at the same time he could feel the faint vibration.

"Hey," she said, ducking to see him under the low ceiling as she came down the stairs. She hit the light and the tiny room was bathed in yellow.

"Hey, yourself," said Raphael.

She bounced over to him, her step light and springy, and her face alight with a dimpled grin. Raphael felt his breath leave. He reached for her and drew her close, wrapping her in his coat with him, feeling the soft warmth of her body. They stood like that for a long while, just holding on, her hands clasped around his carapace, before he nuzzled against her cheek, lifting her face to kiss her.

"Mm," she sighed. "So what are you doing here? You don't usually make it here this early."

"I'm on a mission," he said. "I need some macaroni an' cheese." He grinned at her.

"Macaroni and cheese?" Sunni's brows drew up together in a capital "A" while her mouth kept smiling. "Where am I gonna get that?"

"I dunno. You've got the magic food connection."

Sunni sucked on a tooth and scrunched shut one eye. "Lemme see what I can do." She withdrew from his arms and hurried back up the stairs, returning a few moments later with two plastic baggies.

"What's this?" asked Raphael.

"Macaroni," Sunni grinned lifting a plastic bag of seashell pasta in one hand. "And cheese!" The other bag held a pound of cheddar cheese.

It didn't look like the familiar blue and orange box, especially not with the block of actual cheese, but he didn't want to ask her what he was supposed to do with it. He figured Mike would know anyway.

Michaelangelo hailed Raphael as hero for returning with the needed ingredients, but his victory was short-lived. His brief absence had given Leonardo time to digest this new bit of information and regroup. After they had eaten Mike's very cheesy Chile Mac, Leo gestured with a toss of his head for Raphael to follow him into the sewer outside the doorway, out of earshot of Splinter as well as Mike and Don. Raph followed him out the doorway with a confident swagger, jamming his sai into his belt.

Fifty yards past the opening to the lair, Leonardo wheeled on him. "You want to tell me just what the hell you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Raphael grinned. "Getting laid."

"Well, yeah, I got that part. But I mean-"

"Didn't think it could be done, didja?"

Leonardo blinked. "That's not- no – I don't think I'd even ever thought about it!" he stammered.

"Liar."

Leonardo's face hardened. "Don't you call me that."

"What, you weren't there for any of those discussions, Leo? Late at night, lookin' at Mikey's magazines? Seems to me we all were there…."

"Of course I was, but – Raphael," Leo's voice dropped to a quiet low. "This is not right."

"What?"

"You doing that with a girl- a human. It's all wrong. That's like, immoral, or -"

"Immoral?" Raphael almost laughed. "What, you think I should've asked her to marry me first?"

"No, and that's exactly my point: you're too different. I mean, because she's not, I mean, you're not, I mean...Raph, what does she know about you?"

"You mean like how we live and what we do? Don't worry. She doesn't know about any of that stuff. She thinks I'm just some green homeless person."

Leonardo drew in a deep breath. "So she doesn't know who you are. She doesn't even know what you are. Is that fair to her?"

Raphael crossed his arms and gazed at his brother. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No, Raph, I am not jealous." Leo closed his eyes. "I'm appalled. Do you have any idea how vulnerable you make yourself? What kind of danger you put yourself in? Or her? Has she got family? Neighbors? When you risk discovery like that, you put us all at risk. Why is it all you ever think about is yourself and what you want?"

Leonardo fell into full tirade mode as he turned and paced along the narrow concrete walkway. "Here we go again, Raph; no self- control, no self-restraint. It's the same damn thing, over and over, though I've gotta say this is a good leap beyond any previous self-centered, heedless thing you've ever done. I can't believe you! Here we are, working our asses off, trying to make this home work for us, and for Splinter, and there you are, off in your own little hedonistic joy ride!"

"You are jealous."

"No, Raph, you are out of your mind. What the hell do you think Splinter would say about this?"

Raphael blanched. "You're not gonna tell him…"

"Well, it's either me or you!"

Raphael squared his stance, pointing at him. "You keep your big mouth shut, Leo!"

"Yeah, well, that pretty much tells me how you really feel. You know it's all wrong. How can you do something, do anything, that you'd be too ashamed to tell your sensei about?"

"Leo, that's not- - I'm not ashamed, dammit!"

"Then you go in there and tell Splinter. Go on. You tell him how ok this is."

"Or what? You will? You gonna go tattle on me like when we were ten, Leo? Maybe that's the problem: you still are ten, huh? I grew up, but there you are, still a little kid, all prim an' proper, an' overblown with your own self-righteousness!"

"If you're not ashamed, you go tell him."

"Fuck you, Leo!"

"Yeah, you know what he'll say."

"Leo, you say one word to Splinter…"

"And you'll what? Sounds like telling me was another one of those things you didn't exactly think through, huh?"

He was a breath away from jumping him right then. He wanted to pound his smug little self-righteous face into the concrete. And he knew if he did, right then, there was no way Splinter would not be involved. Raphael's hands balled into fists, but stayed at his sides.

"I'm outta here," he said, turning on his heels. "You lemme know how well your Honor holds up with this one, Leo!"

He took off down the tunnel at a brisk pace, hoping his last remark would have the appropriate effect. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed it probably would silence Leo, at least until he got back home. Raphael's greatest asset in this was that he knew his brother at least as well as he knew himself.

Maybe better, actually.

He had to find some kind of clothing. He hadn't dared risk ducking back inside to grab his overcoat, and he was going to have to at least be in the public view long enough to climb the stairs up to Sunni's apartment. Whatever he found in a dumpster was not going to work simply because of the rank odor.

"Damn…" he growled, throwing down a moldy, stained T-shirt. It had to be getting close to midnight, and a frantic sort of desperation was taking over. It wasn't so much that he needed her physically, he realized. It was more that, after fighting with Leo, after facing the possibility of Splinter disapproving of something that had come to be so important to him, he had to see her. He needed to hold her, like he had earlier that afternoon, to see her smile at him, and know that at least one living being on the planet thought he was all right.

Validation, he thought. That was the word she had used. Yeah, I never thought I needed any of that either….

Raphael's mind was wandering into a foreign- feeling area when another unusual word popped into his head. 'Salvation'? What the hell…? Oh!

"Salvation Army!" He grinned and took off through the back alleys in the direction of the drop box sitting behind the padlocked gate of the Salvation Army's 9th Street Thrift Store.

He found what he considered to be quite a score: a pair of oversized dark blue sweat pants, a gray NYU sweatshirt, and a black knit watchman's cap. He pulled on his natty new outfit and lit out across town, swinging to up the nearest fire escape to travel by rooftop. Two blocks before he reached her building he dropped to street level, and stole through the shadows. He saw the light on in her window and grinned. Even when she worked the day shift, Sunni was a night owl.

On the second floor landing he heard a door open one flight up, and voices, a man's and a woman's, murmuring in low tones. Raphael froze in his tracks, hearing the door shut again, and the swift footsteps of someone with a long stride hurrying down the stairs. He turned away, covered his face with his hands, and hunched over the balustrade, acting as if he was ill. The man paid him not a moment's notice and hurried past. Raphael watched him from between his fingers. It could have been Stewpot's son, Jamal, though he looked taller than the man Raph had only gotten a glimpse of from the rooftop across the street that night. But something else about him grabbed Raph's attention. Some sense sent a small zap of electricity up Raphael's spine, although in the moment he couldn't identify it.

As soon as the door downstairs latched shut, Raphael flew up to the third floor. He paused at Sunni's door, listening. There was another woman's voice, not Sunni's, speaking inside. After a moment though, he heard the beep of the answering machine and realized it was only a recorded message. He tapped on the door.

"Who's there?" Sunni asked through the door. "Robert, if that's you, I told you, you need to stop pestering me an' get on home right no-"

"It's Raphael."

There was pause. "Raphael?"

"Yeah. It's me."

He heard the sound of several locks being slid open and deadbolts rolling and the door opened.

Sunni was smiling, though she was plainly surprised to see him. "You didn't tell me you were coming back," she said.

"Well, I'm back. You gonna let me in?"

"Oh, yeah! Of course!" She opened the door wide and he stepped in. Sunni surveyed him up and down. "New threads, heh?" she grinned, shutting the door and re-bolting it.

"Hey, you like it?" said Raphael. He noticed she was wearing tight, hip-hugging blue jeans and a low-cut, fitted T-shirt that normally would have commanded all his attention, but something else was distracting him. He scanned the room, sniffing the air, every sense alert to whatever it was that felt different in her apartment tonight.

"Hi Hon, it's Mama," said another woman's voice on the answering machine. "Give me a call if you don't get in too late tonight, ok? I need to get your new work schedule."

"Well, come on in, sit down," said Sunni. "I was just about to get into the shower."

Raphael remained standing, distracted. The answering machine beeped and a new message played.

"Hey, Sugar," came a man's deep, languid voice. "How are you? I been lookin' all over for you. You know it's been too long…. too, too long….I'm really hurtin' here, Sunni…it's been weeks. You give me a call. I need you bad, girl."

Sunni exhaled sharply, more annoyed than alarmed, but obviously not comfortable with what was said. The machine beeped again and she started toward it. "Well, I don't need to hear any more of that bullsh-"

Raphael grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Sunni, where you been, baby?" It was another man's voice on the machine. "You gonna be at Val's party?"

"Let me shut that thing off," said Sunni.

Raphael shook his head and held her back.

"Shaiyeesha told me you were hangin' out with Tyrone, an' if that's true, baby, you breakin' my heart," the message went on. "Check it out, you show up at Vals', you better look out for me, 'cause I'm gonna be lookin' for you, you know what I'm sayin'? You give me a call, 'kay?"

Sunni lunged forward and managed to hit the stop button on the answering machine as it beeped again.

She turned toward Raphael, trying to pry his hand off her wrist. "What the hell are you doin'?" she asked. "I didn't need to listen to that. Let me go."

"How many more are on there, Sunni?" asked Raphael, his face stony.

"What?"

"How many more messages you got like that?"

"Oh, no, Raphael," said Sunni, her face darkening. "You are misinterpreting that, an' you are way outta line!"

"And who's Robert? Was that the guy who was just -?" It suddenly hit Raphael why the man on the staircase had sent his sensory radar into double time. He had smelled like Sunni's apartment. He had smelled like Sunni. "What the hell was he doin' up here?"

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no," said Sunni her eyes widening in anger. "We are not going there. You got no right!" She pulled back, trying to free her hand from his grasp.

Raphael's mouth locked into a hard line and his eyes went cold. "How many people you screwin', Sunni?"

Sunni's mouth dropped open and then snapped back into a snarl. She swung at him, and it took him enough by surprise that she almost connected. He shifted his grip on her arm, neatly locking her wrist joint with one hand. The pressure was enough to send her nearly to her knees. "Ow! No!" she screamed, beating her fist against his clothed plastron. "NO! NO! You let go! You let me GO!" Raphael calmly took the offending hand in his and effortlessly dropped her on her back. He straddled her on his knees and pinned her hands down

Sunni shrieked, and kicked wildly at him, missing entirely. "You let me go! Let me up! You get off me right now you sonovabitch! Get OFF me!"

"You gonna answer that question, Sunni?" Raphael's voice was low and in a tone that anyone who knew him would describe as 'dangerous'.

"No, I'm not gonna answer that, you asshole!" she screamed back in his face. "You get offa me and you get the hell out of my house, you fucking dickhead!"

"You tell me, Sunni. You owe me that much-"

"I don't owe you a fucking thing!" Sunni cried. "Get off of me!"

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I owe you, huh?" he snarled. "Who are all these other guys, huh? More fucking charity cases that you've decided to be nice to?" His face was inches from hers, her hands pinned under his.

"Oh, yeah, yeah! I screw everyone I feel sorry for!" Sunni's voice broke with a sob. "Get the hell off of me! You're hurting me, you big, apeshit fuckhead!"

Something in that penetrated Raphael's consciousness. He released her hands and stood up over her, his fists at his side, opening and closing rhythmically with his fury. "You tell me, Sunni- " he started.

Sunni scrambled backwards and leaped to her feet. She charged at him, shrieking. "GET OUT! GET OUT! You are NOT doin' this to me!" She shoved him hard in the chest. "Get outta here with your goddam intimidation jealousy bullshit! Get OUT!" Sunni flailed at him with her fists until he grabbed her hands again and spun her around, crossing her arms in front of her and trapping her from behind.

"Sunni," he hissed in her ear. "I don't wanna hurt you, but you gotta be straight with me."

"NOOO!" Sunni screamed and heaved herself backward, trying to hit his face with the back of her head and kicking like a madwoman. He tightened his grip and she screamed louder, but now she was crying, as well. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"Sunni, you gonna fuckin' talk to me…?" he growled

"No! I am NOT gonna fuckin' talk to you, you goddam bully!" she screamed through her tears.

At the same moment that Raphael realized he could not win this battle without hurting Sunni, the sound of an approaching siren sang from the streets below. He couldn't know for sure, but it seemed possible that a neighbor could have called the police because of all the noise they were making. It probably sounded pretty bad from downstairs.

"Ok," he said. "I'm going." He gave her a shove, enough to propel her toward the couch, and turned to the door, rapidly sliding the locks and deadbolts open. He could hear her sobbing behind him. He pulled open the door and turned back toward her, and as soon as he did, she came to her feet, the floor lamp in her hand, raising it menacingly. Her eyes were red and swollen and tears streamed down her face. The sight ripped into his heart.

"Sunni-" he said.

"Get OUT!" she rasped with all the force left in her lungs. "Get out of here and don't you ever come back! EVER!"

Raphael hit the pavement outside and crouched low, the red white and blue lights of the patrol car in front of Sunni's building dazzling through the clear night air. Hidden below street level in the stairway to a basement apartment, Raphael tore off his Salvation Army clothes. He left them in a shredded pile and took off into the night, looking for something to kill.