Leonardo hesitates, looking from Donatello to the door, back and again. He grabs his own wrist and squeezes lightly in frustration; the sound of Don emptying his stomach is still echoing in his head, dull panic ringing in his ears. What's he supposed to do about an ill brother? He would normally turn to Donatello in this sort of situation, but -
"...I...okay. Okay, I'll be right back. Um." His fingers slip on the doorknob several times before he can grip it, his eyes still on Don as though his sick brother could relapse at any moment. "Don't - just, stay there."
Idiot, like he's going anywhere -
He suppresses the groan in his throat and pushes the door, the scent of vomit leaving his nostrils at the open air.
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Leonardo hesitates, looking from Donatello to the door, back and again. He grabs his own wrist and squeezes lightly in frustration; the sound of Don emptying his stomach is still echoing in his head, dull panic ringing in his ears. What's he supposed to do about an ill brother? He would normally turn to Donatello in this sort of situation, but -
"...I...okay. Okay, I'll be right back. Um." His fingers slip on the doorknob several times before he can grip it, his eyes still on Don as though his sick brother could relapse at any moment. "Don't - just, stay there."
Idiot, like he's going anywhere -
He suppresses the groan in his throat and pushes the door, the scent of vomit leaving his nostrils at the open air.
Towel. Water. He could do that.