[Open]

[meanandgreen]

Characters: Raphael and YOU
Date: Catch-all for End of July and August
Location: Water, Wood, and Metal Sectors
Situation: Just a Turtle doin' his thing
Warnings/Rating: None

Things were getting better, much as Raphael would hate to admit it. Ever since they'd split his family up, ever since Don discovered his new power, things have felt off-kilter. Unbalanced. And that reflected on his own stability.

He started going to the fight ring in the Fire Sector again. Spent weeks stumbling home late at night with cuts and bruises he wouldn't talk about. Disappeared for days. Went quieter than usual, his thoughts turned inward, closely guarded. It's his own way of coping.

Lately, more than ever, he could feel things changing, feel the bones of his family shifting. The growing pains are hard to avoid.

But move on with their own cadence, building a new familiarity around him. Leo comes almost every evening, and they meditate. Talk. He and Mike spend quiet nights over home cooked meals and idle conversation about the kids he teaches at the dojo, the people they've met, and it helps. Makes the chaos in his head go quiet for a little while. The days get longer and hotter, and the heat soothes the aches.

As much as he'd hate to admit it, he hasn't felt this good in a long, long time, and it shows. After a long disappearance, he shows up at the dojo again, hoping he still has a job. Hoping he could pick a fight with Korra like they used to. He starts collecting books about building motorcycles with plenty of diagrams. Even starts gathering a handful of parts. But without Don, he doubts he'll get very far.

But things were getting better. Falling into a new rhythm that hurts a little less each day.

He has to tell himself to enjoy it while it lasts, because he knows all too well how fast these things can change.

Comments

[meanandgreen]

At least he doesn't put up a fight over the kit.

"Why?" He snarls. "Why should I listen to you? You never listen to me! You don't care what I think! No, you wait 'til I start screamin' like some kind of psychopath, and even then!"

With a frustrated growl, he turns and buries his fist in the wall. As if he hasn't done enough damage for the day.

[i_speak_softly]

Don just raises a brow. "Raph, I honestly don't know what you're talking about, and I don't think I did even before you rearranged my neurons. Are you going to tell me, or do you just want to continue carrying on?"

[meanandgreen]

Holy shit, he's gonna lose it. He's gonna seriously fucking lose it.

He shakes his hand free of the clinging bits of plaster, but still looks for all the world like he wants to punch something else.

"You know it's so freakin' convenient that your brain made up that happy little story," he snaps. "Like you and me were gonna have our little race and then what? I just snapped!?"

[i_speak_softly]

Don sighs, resting the kit on the edge of the sink and snapping it open. "You must be aware that concussions are often associated with short-term memory loss. So yes, it's likely my brain did make up a story. A more accurate version might come back later, or you could save us both some time and just tell me what really happened."

[meanandgreen]

The room is too small. He can't even pace. Why can't Don understand that he doesn't want to talk about it!?

And now he's talking to him like he's stupid. He knows what a concussion's like, you ass. He's had a billion of them.

Don's obviously fine. He doesn't need or want his help. He doesn't give a crap about anything he wants or thinks. So why's he even sticking around? The door's right there, and everything is telling him to bolt.

"Just forget it. You're so tired of me ordering you around. So how 'bout this? You can take those plans we drew and shove 'em up your ass. My gift to you."

He heads for the door.

"I'm outta here."

[i_speak_softly]

"Raph..." Don rubs the bridge between his eyes, his other hand resting among the ointments and bandages. "Just go downstairs for a while, okay? Don't try to hike home like this."

[meanandgreen]

The bathroom door slams behind him with an ear-splitting bang.

Raph can do whatever the hell he wants. And right now, he just wants out. He isn't "like" anything. He can take care of himself. He doesn't need Don's help, and he doesn't have to listen to anyone.