Back in the lair, everyone enjoys the simple pleasures of ramune, pinball, and skateboarding. Michelangelo, fresh off a healing hands session with Master Splinter, felt well enough to cook up some pizza—already, the smell of his and Annalise's creation wafts into the living area.

Raphael sits on the couch with his arm over Taylor's shoulder while she scrolls through something on her phone. Leonardo, Destiny, and Rockwell sip their drinks and chat idly on the couch. Leatherhead and Slash compete at pinball and Mondo skates on the twisting platform above the living room pit.

"I'm glad you're okay, brother," Leonardo says to Raphael.

"Yeah, you and me both," Raphael agrees. "Sorry I got so intense during sparring."

The lab door opens and Donatello walks out, removing his work goggles as he goes. The brothers look up at him, eyebrows raised, and he grins.

"Man, even just stripping that thing for parts is exciting!" Donatello says. "The possibilities are endless!"

"Just make sure none of that mutant-hunter stuff gets out and kills us all, alright?" Raphael asks.

"Of course, who do you take me for?" he asks. After a second, Donatello rubs the back of his neck. "Hey, Raph, I'm sorry for what I said. That wasn't cool."

Taylor glances up from her phone. "Trash talking went too far, huh?"

"You don't know the half of it," Raphael says. He nods at Donatello. "We're cool. Now, can we stop all the apologies? It's making me feel weird."

"It goes to show that you can never let anger separate you," Splinter says as he walks behind the couch, hands folded behind his back. Raphael groans and presses one hand to his face. "For our time in this world is limited, and how terrible would it be to have unresolved anger for one another?" He closes his eyes, reminiscent. "Life is short and precious."

Michelangelo enters the living room with a flourish, holding up a tray with his good hand. "Taco pizza marshmallow surprise!" he shouts.

Annalise appears behind him with two more trays of pizza. "And a less-sticky taco surprise too!"

They pose, sparkling with pride.

"Ah, great, I'm quite famished," Rockwell says.

"Aw, yeah! Get it while it's hot!" Michelangelo says.

Leonardo and Destiny get up, following after the Mutanimals to get a few slices, and Donatello's close behind. Raphael and Taylor stay put, even when she puts her phone away. He nudges her.

"You up for taco pizza?" he asks. "The marshmallows really aren't that bad."

She raises an eyebrow. "I think I'm uniquely worthy of judging a taco pizza," she says. He smirks, just a little, and she averts her eyes. "Um...do you think I could stay over tonight?"

He blinks. "Sure, should be fine. Will your aunt and uncle be okay with that?"

"I'll text them," she says. "Besides, I don't really want to rush our talk, you know?"

"Oh, right, that."

She frowns. "You didn't forget, right?"

"No, just...I guess I still don't know what to say."

She glances at the crowd of teens (and older mutants) getting pizza and purses her lips in thought. She wiggles out from under his arm, standing up only to turn and take his hand.

"There'll be leftovers later," she says. "Come on."

He follows.

----------

"I guess I just...wish things felt easy."

Taylor sits on his bed, cross-legged, and he sits across from her. The space between them on the mattress is minuscule and yet, she seems far away. He needs to distance himself for a second while he gets the words out.

She taps her knees, chewing her bottom lip. "Easy, huh? I think I already know what you mean, but..."

"You haven't done anything wrong—"

"I have, though."

"I don't want to talk about that, Tay."

She exhales. "I think we need to. We've been avoiding it ever since we got back together." His expression pinches and she meets his stare head-on. "Is that why you've been all weird? Please, just be honest, and I won't get mad."

He sighs, running his hand over the back of his neck and head. "There's a lot going on up here, okay?" he says.

"I'm here to listen."

He exhales. "I'm...look, I'm sorry for how I treated you on the roof earlier. I was angry. I didn't mean what I said," he starts.

"You're forgiven," she says, "but...I think you did mean it. Some of it, at least." Her voice gets smaller, trailing off as she mutters a bit in Spanish.

"I feel like a failure, Tay. I keep screwing up and I can't keep anyone I love safe. At least with you, you...you could leave. You don't have to live this life. You could find a nice guy and settle down and be normal."

"I don't want normal. I want you," she insists. He looks away, jaw clenching. "Who else would understand the shit I've—we've gone through?"

"But is that all we have? Mutual trauma and...I don't know, sexual tension?" he asks. "You were trying to seduce me when we met. Sometimes..."

He shakes his head, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. Taylor averts her eyes, picking at a loose thread on his quilt.

"Sometimes..." he continues, his chest uncomfortably tight. "I don't know, I see my brothers with their girls and it just seems so easy for them, and I wonder if we're doing something wrong, or if we're forcing something that'll never work. Like maybe we've got the physical chemistry but everything else doesn't...doesn't..."

He trails off, blinking hard, and she stays quiet. He opens his mouth but can't get any more words out, frustration growing. Words, feelings, how does anyone talk about this without getting all emotional? God, why would he tell her all this? What if she agrees? What if she leaves?

He hears her sniffle and his head snaps up. She stares at him, her bottom lip trembling as tears roll down her cheeks. She looks away, sniffling harder as she tries to wipe her face, but they won't stop.

"Wait, shit, my mascara," she chokes out. "Mierda—"

"Shell, Tay, I didn't mean..."

He scoots closer, reaching out to her, but she doesn't accept him. She looks at him, at his arms, like he's lying to her.

"You...is that really how you feel?" she squeaks out. "B-Because, if...if you..." Her sniffling bursts into a sob and she clasps her hand over her mouth, hunching forward in a self-hug.

"Tay, no, it...it's all these fears I have. I feel like a coward around you," he insists, again bringing himself closer even as he lowers his arms. He rests his hand on her knee. "Not like I'm afraid of you but like...I'm afraid of what I can't do. I'm afraid that I'll never be able to give you a normal life, or a normal family. I'm afraid that one day you'll just leave and I'll be the bitter, angry person I was after Mutacorp and I don't want that. I want us to make it, Taylor."

She takes a few deep breaths, wiping away more tears and leaving more black streaks behind, and she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Sorry, I just..." Another breath. "I...I've worried about the same things. With the Dragons, guys were only ever interested in my body, so...when you said that, I pictured—"

He squeezes her knee. "Believe me, it's not just that for me."

"I know, I know, I..." She straightens back into a cross-legged sit after one more long, cleansing breath. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm...I'm actually relieved. I thought you were gonna break up with me."

"I thought if I told you this stuff, you'd break up with me."

She shakes her head. "No...I hear you. I hear everything you're saying, Raph, and I'm worried about it too. God, every time I picture explaining this whole thing to my parents, I just picture...hell breaking loose."

His shoulders sag. "Right."

"But, that's just something we'll deal with. I really do love you, not just because you understand me. You're rough around the edges but you're kind and protective and strong and sassy and...and I'm rambling." She blushes. "It's everything about you. Even your temper isn't a dealbreaker."

He sighs. "I guess, some days, I just feel like I don't deserve you. Like today. Or the other day."

"I don't deserve you?" she repeats, stunned. "Raph, I don't deserve you! I thought I'd never see you again after what I did."

His lip lifts at the edge, just a bit. "I thought so too, for a while, but you tried to make it right. I know the Dragons manipulated you. You...you're still trying to make it right."

They sit for a second, letting the words sink in. Taylor clears her throat after a second.

"It's the trust thing, isn't it?" she asks. "It all just comes down to that?"

"Yeah, a bit. Shit still happened, even if I know why and how and...all that."

"Yeah."

Silence again.

She rubs her arm. "Could...could I have that hug now? Por favor?"

He nods and, with a bit of maneuvering, he pulls her close. They hold each other, laying on his bed, and he closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of her tropical shampoo. He loves this girl. He loves her fiery attitude, he loves her voice and the music it makes, and he loves her dry sense of humour and quick tongue. He feels fifty pounds lighter having told her almost everything in his heart.

"I love you, Raphael," she whispers.

He exhales. "I love you too, Tay."

She leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he catches her in a real kiss before she can pull away.

----------

"Raph? Raaaaaph?" Michelangelo calls. "I saved you some pizza! It's got the Lisey-Mikey stamp of approval!"

He stops in front of his brother's room, tray of pizza in his good hand. He reaches out and knocks, humming to himself.

"Raphie-roo! Raphaeeellll—" he drones.

"I'm not hungry, Mikey!" Raphael shouts from the other side. "Just put some in the fridge!"

"Is Tay hungry? I haven't seen her—"

"She's fine! Just go away!"

Michelangelo pauses, blinking a few times, then shrugs and hoists the pizza higher. "Whatever you say, bro!" he says. After a second, he leans closer to the door, cupping his hand around his mouth as he whisper-shouts, "Use protection!"

"I'll give you a second concussion, Mikey!"

Michelangelo takes that as his cue to get away, just in case his brother stays true to his word.