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

"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?

"Oooooh yeah. And if he's anything like my Leo -- which you know...he kind of is, if you squint -- he's not going to stop asking until he gets an answer he likes. So...that'll be fun."

He attempts a mega-watt smile.

"Yeah, so what you gonna do to fix that?"

Because his Leo wrangling skills have always been sub-par. Always. His methods are usually more along the line of "tell him what you feel like telling then fight about the rest". And doesn't that work like a charm.

Raph's tired of fighting. He's done enough of it for his weekly quota. He's sore and tired and cranky, and dealing with Leo is so low on his list of priorities it isn't funny.

He just wants him off his case. He and Mike are good now. That's all that matters.

"For now? A fat lot of nothing," he says, turning to look at the door leading out of the kitchen. "He's way too cheesed off at the both of us to care why we were fighting in the first place. When that wears off though, I guess...I'll tell him the truth."

He takes a dramatic sigh, then turns back towards Raph.

"I stole Brown Bear and wouldn't give him back."

There's a full second where Raph mulls it over. He could totally deny the existence of the infamous bear in his world. He so could. Everyone else did. Mostly. Far as he knows nobody knew he still had the damn thing. Never mind that he still slept with it more often than not. Damn it, Mike! You're not supposed to know about that. Stupid freakin' other Raph and his stupid freakin' inability to hide his crud.

"That's not funny," he grumbles, looking a little more peeved about it than what's good for him.

It's not even remotely funny. Though he's not admitting to anything else.

If he'd even thought for one second that this Raph had also had a beaten up water-damaged fifth hand teddy bear, Mike never would have mentioned it at all, let alone use it as some sort of place-holder for some yet-to-be-determined argument that preceded the breaking of his cousin's hand.

But...the look of horror mixed with recognition on Raph's face, along with the near pout that follows...it's all too much for Mike.

The only reaction he has is to laugh, and he knows the second he feels a peal threatening to escape him that it's the worst possible thing he could do.

So he quickly claps a hand over his mouth, trying to hold his reaction at bay.

Edited 2014-04-13 07:42 (UTC)

The glare Raph shoots his way could peel paint off walls. "I will break your face again. Don't think I won't."

Don't you dare laugh at him. Don't you freaking dare.

One hand stays on his mouth, the other goes up in surrender.
They're not just clear, they're crystal clear.

And then, as luck would have it, Mike's brain is flooded with questions regarding the bear. What was it made from? What color were the button eyes? Was it still threadbare by the ears? Do you have one here?

This bear was one of the things that he and his Raph fought over the most as children, and why it popped to mind so effortlessly.

After a few tense moments Mike lowers both hands.

"I'll jump off that bridge when I come to it. With Leo, I mean. In the meantime? I really think you should let a healer look at your hand."

He sighs, chewing at the inside of his cheek. They've had to deal with worse with homemade medicine. There's no question about it. But dealing with a healer is the last thing he wants to do right now. He's so exhausted his head is pounding and he's having a hard time keeping his vision clear. Not to mention the emotional drain. And being beat up sure doesn't help. All he wants right now is a quick fix so he can go to sleep.

The hand hurts, sure. It's part of why he got such crap sleep last night. The other part... well, Mike's got that covered, and he feels like he just might be able to try it again.

"I dunno..." He sighs, grimacing as he tries to twitch his fingers. Bad idea. "You don't think you could just wrap it up so I could get some shut eye? 'Cause I am way too tired to be dealin' with people's crud right now."

He feels better around Mike, but that doesn't mean everyone gets that luxury. Mike's just getting a free pass. And maybe if he can convince him to try to fix it himself, he can avoid letting anyone else near him at all.

He nods once and reaches out to give Raph's shoulder a squeeze, before getting to his feet and gathering some supplies.

"I'll splint it and make you a sling. When you crash out, try to stay on your back. You want anything for the ... swelling?"

He almost said for the pain, but he's pretty sure he can guess the answer to that question.

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

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