lucetilogs | (no subject)

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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Raph doesn't so much as flinch at the sound of the door opening. He knows who it is. Part of him just doesn't seem to care. Don had his fun, wherever the hell he went, and now that shit is over. Who the hell gives a damn. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's disgust, maybe it's disappointment. Whatever it is, it sits in his gut like bad meat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

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."

Edited 2011-02-21 23:20 (UTC)

Don hangs his coats in the closet, one after the other. Slowly, mechanically.

(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.

He doesn't move from the kitchen, even after the silence, just keeps fussing with the coffee. "You should tell Leo where you are. He just headed out lookin' for you again."

Don casts vaguely about the room, but for once his journal hasn't helpfully materialized near at hand.

"I can't find my journal. Do you have yours?"

"In my room. On the nightstand."

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.

Don comes back out of the bedroom - funny that he's suddenly allowed in there - a minute later, still talking to the journal.

"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?"

Don's allowed in only when Raph's too lazy to get stuff himself.

"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?"

Don, on the other hand, looks like he's been sleeping quite well.

"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.

He sets down the mugs on the table. Chances are they'll go untouched, but he doesn't give a crap.

"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!?"

"I told you, I lost my journal. And it was only a minor experiment..." He reaches for a mug, out of habit or reflex, then realizes he doesn't want any. "I'm fine."

And then the dam breaks. He just can't keep it in anymore. "You didn't have sex with anybody, did you?"

Yeah, he's curious, but mostly accusing.

"What?!"

The emotion is creeping back into his voice. He's been really worried about this, Don! Raph saw how crazy everyone was acting. Who the hell knows what he could've done.

"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.

Edited 2011-02-22 01:37 (UTC)

"I didn't do anything! I just slept over with him, it got so late..." As soon as he says it, he realizes he's said too much. But once again it's too late and he can't go back.

Raph physically recoils. His carapace knocking into one of the kitchen chairs and it scrapes across the floor a few inches.

"Him? Seriously? Eugh. Nooooo way."

"What? It doesn't bother you when I visit Leatherhead. We were up late talking and he invited me to stay over, that's all!"

Not entirely, but backpedaling seems like the way to go right now. Later he might consider being more honest. Maybe.

"Considerin' the experiment, I'm guessin' there's more to it."

He folds his arms, mentally cringing and trying to push away any and all kinds of mental images.

"I don't wanna know."

"No there isn't." Want to or not, Raphael, know you shall. Don picks up the book Robert gave him and lets it thump back onto the table. "We drank coffee and had illuminating conversations and enjoyed each other's company. That. Is. All."

"Okay, okay. I was just sayin'." That does make him feel better, though. He pulls out a chair and sits down, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug. "I was sittin' here for two days with Leo thinkin' up worse case scenarios. Cut a guy a break."

He's quiet for a while, watching the steam curl up from the other, untouched mug.

"What was happening to people this time?"

Ah, coffee. The stuff Raph makes could probably peel paint off walls, and he only drinks it black. "I dunno. Everybody was runnin' around like they were on E or somethin'. Winry tried to kiss me and Isamu was tryin' to convince me to let him ride my shell. Moron."

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."

"And what is everyone saying today?"

"I dunno. I'm stayin' off the journals. Haven't heard back from April yet, though."

"She isn't home?"

"No. Leo told me she was off marryin' some guy in spandex."