i_speak_softly (
i_speak_softly) wrote in
lucetilogs2011-02-21 06:09 pm
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Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who:
i_speak_softly and
gaijin_ninja (with
honorthecode and
after_march possibly joining later)
What: It wasn't (entirely) Don's fault. Raph doesn't care.
When: Relatively early this morning.
Where: House 55.
Summary: Raph does not approve of Don's behavior during the experiment. He will inform Don of this as soon as he finds him. Ah, there he is.
Rating: ... I'm guessing fairly high.
Don hasn't been home in two days, and it would be too much to hope that this has escaped Raphael's notice. Oh, how the tables have turned. It was always Raph, never Don, who suffered Splinter's wrath for coming home late. But a lot has changed in a year.
He doesn't even bother trying to sneak in a back way. It would only serve to marginally delay his fate. So he goes in the front door, head down, dreading the gauntlet he knows is waiting for him.
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What: It wasn't (entirely) Don's fault. Raph doesn't care.
When: Relatively early this morning.
Where: House 55.
Summary: Raph does not approve of Don's behavior during the experiment. He will inform Don of this as soon as he finds him. Ah, there he is.
Rating: ... I'm guessing fairly high.
Don hasn't been home in two days, and it would be too much to hope that this has escaped Raphael's notice. Oh, how the tables have turned. It was always Raph, never Don, who suffered Splinter's wrath for coming home late. But a lot has changed in a year.
He doesn't even bother trying to sneak in a back way. It would only serve to marginally delay his fate. So he goes in the front door, head down, dreading the gauntlet he knows is waiting for him.
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But there's another part of him, the part that kept him sleep-deprived and sick with worry for the past two days. That's the part that casts a glance over his shoulder at his wayward brother as he busies himself making coffee in the kitchen. Seeing Don walk through that door on his own volition - not injured, not sick, not dead - causes his whole body to heave a sigh of relief.
The coffee percolates. He turns back again.
"Well look who finally decided to show up."
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(Only a week, and the sight of coats hung in a neat row already reminds him of Robert.)
(That's just the way his mind is, holding onto every detail. It doesn't mean anything.)
When he turns back, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to eat, he doesn't want to argue. He just wants to get this over with.
Have your say, Raph, and let him go. You can't make him hurt any more than he already does.
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"I can't find my journal. Do you have yours?"
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One more mug from the cupboard. He frowns as he pours the second cup. Let Don do that before the questioning, even if curiosity is burning a hole in his chest. Even if he kind of hates Don right now, imagining all the things he could've been up to the last couple nights, having nightmares of his brother doing things that kind of make him want to throw up and scream with jealousy at the same time.
Wherever Don went, it had to be good. Maybe he slept with some girl. Maybe he thought they were married. Maybe he disappeared under that willow tree and spent the last two days in a drug-induced haze.
Either way, it was a hell of a lot better than his last two days, getting ulcers thinking about whether his brother was getting himself hurt, killed, or fucked. All of them are equally evil in his mind.
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"Yes - Leo, yes, I'm at home. Come back."
He slides the book onto the counter and sighs, rolling his shoulders.
"Is it him or is it me?"
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"He hasn't slept in two days. What do you think?" Because Don obviously meant Leo.
Speaking of lack of sleep, Raph's got bags under his eyes of his own. They make him look bruised.
He turns from the counter with both mugs in hand. "Where the hell were you?"
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"I was with a friend. You knew I was with a friend. Why are the two of you acting like this?"
He asks the question, and finds that he's suddenly unapologetic about his disappearance. He didn't do anything wrong, and on some level he resents that his brothers were so unreasonably worried about him. As though they didn't trust him to look out for himself. Well, maybe they were right. But he's already suffered for his errors in judgment, and he's not going to listen to lectures on top of it. Not if he can do anything to avoid it.
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"You didn't even bother checkin' in! What are we supposed to think? You always come home. Then there was that crud with the experiment goin' down... Jeez, Don. How do you expect us to act!?"
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Yeah, he's curious, but mostly accusing.
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"I don't know! You were gone for two days and everybody was all drugged up on that crazy love fruit. We got no idea what the heck's goin' on with you!"
Now would be a great time for Leo to come back home. He really doesn't want to do this alone.
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"Him? Seriously? Eugh. Nooooo way."
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Not entirely, but backpedaling seems like the way to go right now. Later he might consider being more honest. Maybe.
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He folds his arms, mentally cringing and trying to push away any and all kinds of mental images.
"I don't wanna know."
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"What was happening to people this time?"
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He pauses to drink from his mug, sighing.
"Somethin' about that tree made everybody all gaga for one another or somethin'. You know, Valentine's. So the Mallies gotta make this whole twisted shindig. Makes me want to puke."
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