tushanshu_logs | I need you. You. You. You. In the Morning. When my soul's on fire!

"Looks like you two have made up," Leo says suddenly, his voice sickeningly tight. He taps a jar on the table a few times, the sound of glass clacking against wood echoing loudly through the kitchen.

There's no hiding the edge of petulant bitterness in his voice. It's taken him mere minutes to realize one thing: he's on his own now. He's the odd one out now. And as long as the three of them live under one roof, that's how it's going to be.

It's easy for Raph to read into that far deeper than it's intended. So Mike told him. He had to have told him, because there's no way they could be this freakin' obvious. Of course not.

So Leo was letting them sort out their own stuff for once. And for some reason, that pisses him off even more. They were all just playing his little game, weren't they? Let Mike bribe him into not wanting to strangle anyone anymore, and then pounce on him with a lecture.

"Stay out of it, Leo," he rumbles darkly, every inch of him coiling tight as a wire, glaring dangerously at the table. "Just shut up and stay out of it."

Mike's at the stove, his back turned to his cousins. Which is good, because then it means they both can see his reaction to Leonardo's full frontal passive aggression.

No, Leo. Don't do this. Don't break this peace I've only just won. Don't. Please.

And Raph! Don't fall for it. Don't fall into his trap. Don't...no. Please. PLEASE!

His grip on the wooden spoon in his hand tightens.

"Oh? Were Raph and I fighting? I hadn't noticed."

His eyes dart between Mike and Raph, fingers turning white around the glass jar in his hand. This whole ordeal is unbelievable. He's angry at them for stonewalling him, angry at himself for acting like such a child about it, angry at the whole situation. When did it start feeling like he'd lost his place in this household completely?

You know what? Fine. If they were so determined to wrest away the little control he'd fought tooth and nail for, they could have it. He's still acting like a petty brat, but the sting of being shut out curls his tongue and sends stabs of shame through his chest. He expected this from Raph. He just didn't expect Mike to shut him out too.

"My mistake," he grits out like he's spitting gravel. He skids the chair back as though to stand up and leave. "Well then, if everything's under control here, I'm going for a morning run."

Yeah, well Raph's not gonna stop him. It sounds like a great great idea to him. He's not in the mood for Leo and his little mind games right now.

"Great," he rumbles, tightening his grip around his coffee mug before he finishes the rest off in one swallow. He's so tempted to throw a snide mark his way as a little parting gift. But he's dug a deep enough grave for himself already, so for once, he keeps his stinkin' mouth shut. "See ya later."

Mike says nothing until Leo is long gone from the room. He stands motionless at the stove until finally...he breaks.

With a powerful backhand the pots on the stove top are knocked to the floor. The clatter is punctuated by a rare use of profanity.

"FUCK!" he hisses under his breath.

Edited 2014-04-08 18:28 (UTC)

Leo leaving isn't what bothers Raph at all. This time it's Mike and his rare show of temper. The sound of the pans makes him flinch, the sudden movement making his hand throb tenfold. His throat is tight, and there's that sick feeling he always gets when he's fighting with Leo. But this makes it so much worse.

Words press behind his teeth, working his jaw against them. I'm sorry is the first. It just doesn't feel right. Sounds too pathetic in his head. I keep screwing up.

He doesn't mean for things to be this way. He really doesn't. He just... needs space. Needs some time to think before Leo starts forcing him into it.

"He'll be back," is all he can manage. He says it quietly, but the bitter tone is still there.

He braces both arms on either side of the stove, flexes and relaxes his shoulders, and then sighs long and hard.

"that's not the point," he says with resignation in his voice. "The point is that it's my fault. That in true Mikey fashion I've gone and screwed everything all up." The nickname comes laden with rancor and spite.

He sighs again as he releases the stove, and then then turns towards his cousin. All that negative emotion is gone from his expression, repressed back to where it belongs: out of sight.

"Here, lemme look at your hand."

Did Mikey just take the blame for something? Seriously?

If there was ever any evidene before that this Mike is nowhere near his own, it's this. His Mikey would've brushed this whole thing off in a heartbeat. Probably would've pouted around until he and Leo managed to sort things out on their own. Then it'd be back to the jokes and the teasing in no time.

That's just how it worked. His brother cared in his own annoying, infuriating, freaking selfish way. But he always did care.

This Mike isn't his brother. He never was. But if all of this has proven anything, it's that despite all their differences, he's still family. He still cares for him and Leo just as much as their own brother ever would. And over time, Raph's come to do the same.

Over time, he's come view Mike with the same fierce sense of love and loyalty he feels for all of his brothers. And that's a feeling no amount of broken trust could ever destroy.

It's the only reason Raph surrenders his personal space, placing his mug back down with a heavy click of ceramic. When he pulls off the ice pack covering his hand, he clenches his teeth. His tight expression pulls at the open wounds on his face.

"I think it's busted," he murmurs bitterly, more mad at himself than anything.

There are still a million words trying to claw their way from his mouth. Too many excuses, and more apologies than he could ever put into words. But all they do is make his throat tighten, his jaw clamped down like a steel trap.

It's too hard to find the words. To say what he really means. Too hard to talk when he's too busy listening to the howling storm, the thing that's tearing him from the inside-out.

His knuckles are swollen huge and bruised a deep purple-black. There's no questioning they're broken. Raph's done it to himself enough times to know.

It hurts like hell and he feels like he deserves every second of it.

Edited 2014-04-09 08:23 (UTC)

"Really? You think?" he quips easily, taking Leo's seat at the table. It's an attempt at a joke, something to lighten things back up and move a step closer to normalcy.

His lips press together in concentration as he takes his first up close look at Raph's hand since nearly being brained by it. It doesn't look good, and from the looks of things, it must feel even worse.

"Whelp, there's only one thing that can be done for this. We're going to have to amputate."

He looks up to meet his cousin eye to eye, and offers him a lop-sided smirk that looks a whole lot more genuine than the one he had before sitting down.

"Hold still, I'll get the pizza cutter."

The look of annoyance crossing over Raph's expression is just about as harmless as it can get. Mike's trying to lighten things up, he knows that. It's kind of a lame attempt, but you gotta give the guy credit. And it does work to some degree.

"Yeah, that's real funny," he drawls, throwing Mike an incredulous sideways glance. He's still having a hard time looking anyone in the eye, especially Mike. It's easier to just keep his eyes on his busted hand. "Just bind it up and it'll heal."

Depending on the level of damage, that might be just what a doctor would order. Nothing a few weeks of taking it easy, anti-inflammatories, and a bit of masking tape wouldn't cure. That is, if they had human hands. Kind of hard to Buddy Tape fingers when you've only got three.

And that's really only if the bones are still where they're supposed to be and the breaks themselves are closed.

"What's your range of motion been like? Any loss? Anything you haven't felt before?"

Because he's Raph, so clearly he's busted a hand at least once before. While he waits for his cousins grudging reply, he begins to palpate one of his hands with the other, committing to memory what the arrangement of bones and ligaments is supposed to feel like. Maybe even preparing Raph for the inevitable setting of his hand, should that need to happen.

Wrapping it up is just the easy fix. It's the type of first aid he'd do. So it might not be the right way to do it, but it's quick and it's fast and he doesn't really care. He did this to himself. He's not too focused on fixing it.

"No," he says vaguely, though he doesn't give it much thought. It honestly hurts too much to tell, and he hasn't really tried to move it. There has been some pins and needles in his fingertips, but he's done his best to ignore that. He's had bigger things on his mind.

And here's another weird thing: Mike's good at this. He can already tell. Not that his Mike isn't incapable of basic first aid. They all are to some degree. It's just that his brother's always been, well, kinda squeamish around this kind of thing. But Mike... he's reminding him more of Don right now than anything, and it's really making him miss his brother. Though at least he's not expecting the usual lecture.

You have to take care of yourself. You have to stop doing this. I'm tired of fixing you up like this. Blah blah blah.

"No?" Mike repeats with as much of an impersonation of cousin's vague tone as he can cobble together on short notice. He looks back up at Raph, one brow ridge raised ever so slightly in a challenge.

Everything Mike knows about triage he learned from Splinter, and considering how much trouble he and his own Raph got into as kids...it's surprising the two of them aren't both doctors by now. Or at very least veterinarians.

"You really aren't going to make me say it, aren't you."

He shouldn't have to. Raph is a master of the sai, a weapon damn near designed to bust wrists, effectively crippling swordsman with a simple twist and pop.

It's a combination of his incredibly thick skull and his ever-frustrating, oh-so-reliable deflecting tactic of playing dumb that has his brow furrowing. But he still won't lift his eyes. No, that confused, ornery look gets thrown right at the table.

"Say what?" He mumbles, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

Shouldn't, but still does. That...that's Raph in a nutshell. If ever Mike learns how to embroider, he's going to put that on a pillow.

Mike sighs.
"Nerve Damage and you? A five part mini-series? I'm pretty sure you narrate it, actually."

Finally, his eyes leave the table, sucking in a breath through his teeth like it stings. It's obvious, but it does sting. This is the kind of thing he's trying not to think about.

Still, he keeps his head turned from Mike, looking off to a corner somewhere to keep him from reading his expression. For a minute, he works his jaw, thinking.

"So?" He grits out. So what if he loses it? So what if he can't use his sai anymore. So what? He doesn't care about himself right now. He's a giant hunk of shit for all he cares, and Mike shouldn't even be this nice to him right now.

It's for the best that Raph isn't looking directly at him, because this means Mike can roll his eyes without fear of being smacked upside the head.

"Sooooo, you're no good to me as backup with a busted paw. I don't just take point for anyone, I'll have you know."

Because this isn't Mike being altruistic, it's Mike covering his own ass. So stop acting like you're twelve, Raph, and get with the program.

"I get it!" He snaps through gritted teeth, banging the table with his good hand. Even the slight jostling hurts, but he hardly pays attention. "Fine! It hurts like hell but it feels like my fingers are asleep. All right?"

He screwed up last night, maybe in more ways than one, and he doesn't want to talk about it!

Edited 2014-04-12 05:55 (UTC)

It's a risky move, but Mike does it anyway, he rests what he hopes is a reassuring hand on his cousin's arm.

"We'll fix it."
His tone is solid and unwavering.

We'll fix it.

Those three little words mean so much more than mending a few broken bones. We'll fix it. Together. We'll fix this mess. We'll fix things with Leo. You're not alone.

It saps the anger right out of him. Those words, that hand on his shoulder, and he slumps under his cousin's touch. Physically unraveling as his emotions come crashing down inside of him. His chest's tight, his eyes burn, and there's a lump in his throat he can't swallow.

He buries his face in his hand--his one good hand--rubs at his forehead and lets out a breath through his teeth.

It takes a moment for the threat of tears to stop being quite so overwhelming. Only then does he try to talk. But he has to. He has to let Mike know. He owes him that much.

"Mike..." His voice waivers, making his throat tighten all over again. But he's already started, already opened his mouth, and it all tumbles out almost against his will. "Mike I- I'm... I'm sorry. It... It shouldn't of been that way. I..."

Shit.

He swallows hard, his eyes pinched closed, holding his head like it hurts.

"I just lost it. Again. And I'm sorry."

He bites the inside of his lips and looks away as Raph confesses. The ugliness he's been trying to keep down ever since Leo stormed out of the room is starting to rise.

Look what you did, Mikey! LOOK! You did this. This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you Raph wouldn't be hurt. He wouldn't be blaming himself. And Leo? He'd still be here.

All. Your. Selfish. Fault.

"...you've got nothing to be sorry for. i'm the one at fault," he says finally. His voice starts as a whisper, but builds as he goes on.

"I know no one really knows what to do with me. Heck, I don't even know what to do with me most of the time. But...when you were all here I had family. And then...one by one you all started to disappear. Leo leaving was just...it was just the last straw. Leonardo just broke and I couldn't fix him and I...I just hated..."

The everything is left unsaid, but it's existence is still palpable.

"This was my fault. And I'm going to fix it."

This is weird; Mike blaming himself. Again, he's blaming himself. It's so freakin' strange but Raph understands. He does. When he left, disappeared for those six months, he can't even think of what happened to the rest of them. To Leo.

He broke, Mike said, and the old guilt floods into him with a tidal wave's force. Leo broke. But Mike... Mike kept him together. And Raph knows how hard that is.

Raph's still pissed about what happened, about Mike taking his name and his only form of catharsis from him. He can't forget about that. Though after all they've been through, he can at least get why he wound up there. And after everything Mike's done from the time he came crawling home until now, that little flicker of anger really doesn't mean much in the general scheme of things.

Mike is still on his side, and he's going to make things better. He can fix things where Raph can only ruin them.

For the first time in a long while, Raph pulls his hand away and looks his cousin in the face.

"Okay," he says quietly. It's all he can say.

Mike offers him tight smile and a single nod of understanding.

"He doesn't know, you know. Leo, I mean. I didn't tell him anything, and...it's not like he was asking. Well, not before."

They were like two ships in the night after Wee Leo disappeared. If Leo noticed that Mike started wearing clothing to hide his cuts and bruises, he never said anything about it. And Mike? Well, he was half breaking a promise going in the first place, so it's not as if he was just going to offer up that information.

His outsides were hurting as much as his insides, and so long as there were no uncomfortable questions he would probably have kept on it until something broke.
...
Or Raph came back.
Though, admittedly he really wasn't expecting that second one.

Leo doesn't... "You mean you never told him?" He says, his brows shooting up so fast it pulls on the cut above his eye, astonishment naked on his face.

This never is gonna stop being weird, is it?

"Guess that makes my life easier. Though you know he's gonna ask after all of this."

And what the hell kind of genius plan does Mike have to fix that, huh?

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