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

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.

Oh, thank whatever god gives a crap. The amount of relief washing over him is palpable. Mike will do a decent job, he's sure of it. He can just tell in that eerily Don way he's handling things. And if it isn't better after a couple days, maybe then he'll consider a healer. But not now.

Now he's just hoping they can patch him up and he can go crash before Leo comes back.

"It's fine," he insists. He hates taking meds for any reason. He'd have to be practically dying to agree.

"You know what my favorite part of the word fine is?" His question is punctuated by the snapping of a piece of heavy board into roughly arm length pieces.

"We never believe it means good when anyone else uses it at us, but always expect other people to believe it does when we use it. Isn't that weird?"

Yup, just talking to fill up the void, that's our Mike.

Raph doesn't answer, only presses his mouth into a hard, stubborn line.

If only he'd thought about everything he hates about getting hurt before he actually did some of the stupid stuff he does. But that just comes with the territory of being impulsive and being Raph.

Mike pauses his fussing to slide a fresh cold pack across the table top to Raph.

"Here," is all he says before he exits the kitchen in search of a sheet willing to give it's life for the greater good of sling and splint.

He's gone for a moment or two, with the sound of tearing fabric being the harbinger of his return.

"Ready?"
Has the cold pack numbed the hand enough so that Mike can set and splint it?

Is it numb enough to curb the excruciating pain he's about to experience? Hell no. But the new ice pack does help a little, soothing the grating, raw pain to a dull, deep ache that's a little easier to tolerate.

Either way, he's gonna be in a world of hurt in a second, and he has to mentally prepare himself. At least he's been through worse.

"Yeah," he grunts, "let's get it over with."

He's about as ready as he'll ever be.

He gives his own hand another once over, making sure he knows what he should be feeling for, then he shoots Raph a smirk.

"Good thing we've only got the three, right?"

With no other warning than that, he gets to work. First the wrist, then the bones of the palm, and finally the fingers. All pulled and articulated until he thinks he's got it right. Or at least right enough to hold over until Raph allows someone with actual medical training can see him.

The fact that he doesn't writhe or flinch or even complain under Mike's administrations should be worrisome. Raphael only sets his teeth and breathes through his nose, doing everything he can to keep his mind blank. But it hurts. Holy shit does it hurt. With every little movement, every touch, every pull his heart hammers harder in his chest, leaving a sick feeling throbbing in his stomach. His head swims, and static crackles over his vision. His face grows numb and the rest of him feels cold as ice.

It's shock. He's dealt with it a million times. Sometimes it happens to him and sometimes it doesn't. But when it does, he can't help getting pissed at himself for the response. He should be used to this by now. He is used to this, but his body freaks out against his will anyways.

By the end he's broken into a cold sweat, and looks a little too far on the pale side. But he's okay. He just has to close his eyes, hunch forward a little bit and suck in a few deep breaths while he bandages it. He doesn't need for Mike to stop.

And after this, he still needs stitches in his face and shoulder from the hits he took from his fight with Dai Jin's gang. This just keeps getting better and better.

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

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