A/N: I don't own TMNT...yadda yadda yadda...blah blah blah, I write for pleasure and entertainment purposes only. Yup.
Anywho! Thanks a billion and one to my outstanding reviewers! I'm amazed that you guys still read my writing! And I love you all for it.
So yeah...this one is a bit different to say the least. There's no real plot I don't think. I just sorta wrote whatever wanted to be written and this is what happened. I know it's not Of Flowers and Things, but I do hope you'll enjoy Turtle TidBits just as much, and this chapter in particular. I'm kinda fond of it even if it is just a "happening" and not really actiony and stuff. I'm rambling...
As always, please enjoy!
Raphael was not a morning person. Or a midday person, or even afternoon. So on those rare occasions when he wasn't out doing...whatever he did during the bewitching hours, it was a foolish idiot indeed who dared wake him up.
That's why he almost pitied the yet-to-be-identified moron responsible for the buzzing shell cell beneath his pillow. Almost.
Mumbling groggy curses under his breath, he brought the phone to his ear. "What!" he snarled, his voice raspy with sleep. Already he had imagined three different ways to kill the poor bastard on the other line.
"Raph," Don's voice was an urgent whisper. "You awake?"
"No," Raphael said dryly. "I'm skydiving. What's goin' on Einstein. And whatever it is better be worth wakin' me up for. Where are you anyways? If you're callin' me from that lab of yours I'm gonn—"
"I'm at the junkyard," Donatello interrupted with a hiss. Somehow he managed to sound insulted, impatient, and like he was scolding his brother all at the same time. But then, multitasking was one of the things he did best.
"Talk to me Donny. I ain't up for figuring out your riddles right now. Or ever for the matter."
"I can't explain everything at the moment," he said with his voice real low, like he was working hard to not be overheard. That alone had captured Raph's full attention, despite his irritation. "But I've run into a bit of trouble and could use your—"
It was Raph's turn to interrupt. "On my way."
In a flourish of flying sheets, Raph wrestled his way out of his hammock and raced for the exit.
From the couch Mikey snored, probably passed out from a late night movie. Raph considered waking him and dragging him along, but waking Michelangelo up was just about as fun as waking Raph, if for entirely different reasons. As for Leo, if he was awake somewhere, there wasn't enough time for him to make it known before Raph was already out the door and in the sewers.
When he reached the junkyard, he was climbing the fence lining the perimeter in an instant and landed on the other side in a silent crouch moments later. Several voices coming from his right forced him to dive for cover in the opposite direction.
Peering around a torn tire, Raph's eyes narrowed dangerously at the seven Purple Dragons picking their way across the yard. Typical they'd travel in packs. Numbers were the only thing that was ever in their favor. Not that it was ever enough for them to actually come out victorious for anything. However, despite their total and absolute incompetence, the odds were tipped dangerously out of his brother's favor.
Shell Donny, he thought, what sort of trouble did you get yourself into?
Raphael studied the Dragons. If the way they were acting was anything to go off of, it was safe to say that they had no idea either he or Don were there, but then where the hell was Don?
Squashing down the powerful urge to squash them, Raph left them alone in favor of locating his brother. As he skimmed across the junkyard, keeping well amongst the shadows, he wondered why it was that Don hadn't just slipped away already...unless...what if he couldn't? What if he'd been wrong and the Purple Dragons really did have him?
Raph's hand went to his sai the same moment a lump formed in his throat. He was gonna kill 'em. All of 'em. Slow painful deaths.
Then again, when push came to shove Don could take care of himself.
Raph shook his head. He was still gonna beat them to a bloody pulp.
Out of his peripheral vision he caught sight of the most subtle of movements. Reflexively he took cover. For a moment, there was only the sound of the Purple Dragons bumbling about in the dark and then...
"Raph?"
At first Raphael had thought he'd imagined it, Don's voice was so quiet.
"Where are you?" Raphael dared to whisper back.
"I'm here."
In the darkness he was able to make out Don's waving hand and, with a darting glance toward his surroundings, was at his side in a flash.
"Start talkin'," Raph ordered, placing a hand on the ground to anchor himself while balancing on the balls of his feet. "What the hell are you still doing—" he cut himself off in favor of holding his hand up for inspection, the one he'd just put on the ground. "Shit Don! This better not be yours!" He wiped the blood off on his thigh.
"Why? Are you going to punch me if it is?" Don challenged with a bitter smile. "Sorry to say I can't tell you what you want to hear," he said, his voice tense.
Raph followed the splotchy trail of blood on the ground to where it was coming from. He practically snarled at what he found. A piece of what looked to be roda metal was sticking out of the side of Donny's calf. It was hard to tell what it was exactly in the dark.
Raphael swallowed, feeling very much like he'd just eaten rocks that left an extremely bitter taste in his mouth.
"Honestly it's not as serious as it looks," Don said, shifting his weight and grimacing at the effort it took to move as little as possible.
"Well then how serious is it exactly, cuz it looks pretty damn bad!"
"Shh!" Don hissed. "Raph, there are still Purple Dragons around!"
"Not for much longer they ain't! Is this their fault?"
"Not directly, but that's—"
Raph withdrew a sai from his belt. "They are so dead."
"Hold on a minute!" Don sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and his hold on Raph's wrist tightened against the pain. The motion from catching his arm had jarred his entire body, causing the metal to dig painfully into his leg. "Don't do anything rash," Don said, breathing slow. "If something happens I can't do anything."
"You sayin' I can't handle those idiots on my own?" Raph demanded, his pride slightly bruised at the insinuation.
"I'm a sitting duck, Raph."
Raphael hesitated, feeling very much like he'd just pulled a Mikey. He probably deserved a slap upside the head. "Why didn't you just pull it out? Unless you want to leave it in."
"Of course not," Don said sounding slightly put out. "However, as painful as it is, it's stemming the blood flow and the last thing I want to do is lose more of it. Especially with an enemy patrolling the area. Even an idiotic one."
"All the more reason to take 'em out!" Raph hissed.
"Focus!" Don hissed back. "Honestly, you're acting like Mikey. No attention span whatsoever."
"Well I'm sorry," Raph said sarcastically, "that I'm not behaving normally while my brother is bleeding next to me because there's a piece of friggin' metal embedded in his leg."
Don resisted a bitter grin. Raph had just practically confessed to being worried about him. "Not for long if you'll just shut up and help me. I don't exactly have anything useful to patch myself up with. Masks and elbow pads aren't going to go far and the conditions..." he paused to eye the garbage surrounding them, "leave much to be desired."
"You called me cuz you needed a piggyback ride?"
"Well when you put it like that." This time Don really did sound put out. "And there will be no piggying of any sort."
"And you didn't tell me that you needed transportation on the phone why? Don, I coulda brought the friggin' Battle Shell."
"And attracted unwanted attention from the Purple Dragons? Great idea!"
Raph didn't answer right away and took the few seconds of silence to listen for said Dragons, just to make sure they were still clueless as to their presence in the junkyard. "So? We'd've been long gone before any backup could even think to show up."
"I..." Don trailed off, realizing Raph had a point, "...ve got a piece of rusty metal in my leg." He continued as if that's what he'd been about to say all along, "Excuse me if my reasoning has been temporarily affected. Never mind the blood loss."
"You know what? You called me for help and so I'm gonna get you outta this mess. But we're gonna do this my way."
"Raph," Don warned, reaching for his brother's elbow as if touch alone could somehow change his mind and erase the dangerous, yet mischievous glint in his eyes.
Raph leaned out of reach. "Sorry Don, but I'm afraid you ain't thinkin' too clear at the moment. I think you mentioned something about blood loss yes?" He smirked at the look on Don's face.
"And what if you get hurt, hmm? Then we'll have Purple Dragons to contend with and both of us will be out of commission."
"That's what Leo n'Mikey are for. If I'm not back in five minutes, call 'em...both of them. Not that you'll need to." Then Raph slipped into the shadows of the junkyard, leaving Don alone with his thoughts and the scrap metal. From the particular angle he was looking it, it was possible that it had once been a—maybe he really should've called all of his brothers in the first place...stupid blood loss. His thought process was jumping all over the place.
Across the junk yard Don heard shifting trash and then voices which he could only assume where the Purple Dragons talking to one another. Then there was a thunk here, a thump there, some cries of surprise and anger, the sound of metal on metal, a shout from Raphael and then nothing.
Don tilted his head and strained his ears, but the junkyard had become silent. Unnervingly so.
"Raph?" Don called hesitantly, the sound of his brother's shout replaying over and over in his mind. Had he been hit from behind? The mental image of a bat or some other makeshift weapon crashing down on Raphael's head slithered its way through Don's thoughts. "Raph!" He tried again when he didn't get a response.
A tin can skittered across the ground and Don snatched up his staff and swung it.
"Whoa!" Raph barely ducked in time and threw his hands up to cover his head just in case he hadn't ducked low enough. "What gives? You know, it's for crap like this that I hate getting up int he morning!"
"Sorry," Don panted, resting his staff across his thighs. "I just heard you shout out and—you okay?"
"Course," Raph scoffed. "Guy just got in a lucky hit is all. Nothin' to fuss about, especially not compared to that," he gestured to Don's injury. It was amazing really, what sort of things they were able to handle. Not that they had a choice, but damn were they good at gettin' through shit like that. "You holdin' up okay?"
Don took a moment to consider the question. He was feeling light headed, his leg hurt like a—well it hurt a lot, and it seemed a small portion of his common sense had flown out the window some time ago. "Could be better."
"Let's get you home. Can you stand?"
Between the two of them they managed to get Don to his feet. One arm was pulled across Raph's shoulders and using his bo staff as a sort of crutch the two of them managed to hobble along without jostling Don's leg too much.
"Should we call Leo? Get a ride home? How come you ain't bleeding more?"
Don blinked up at his brother. "Maybe, sounds like a good idea, and it's a mystery to me too. I'm frequently amazed at the magnitude of our luck."
"I dunno 'bout that Donny-boy. Having Mikey in the family isn't something I'd call lucky." Raph said as they turned into an alleyway.
"Hey!" A voice came from above and the two brother's froze before their gazes slowly traveled skyward. "Just for that I'm not helping you."
Don and Raph relaxed breathed sighs of relief to find Mikey peering down at them from the fire escape.
Leo dropped down silently next to them. "Now's not the time for jokes, Mikey." Laying claim to Don's staff, he pulled his arm across his shoulders. Mikey landed beside them and moved to take Raph's spot.
"I got 'im," he protested.
"Raph, you're injured too."
"What?" Don's eyes swept across his brother's frame. It was hard to make out in the shadows of the alley, but there was a gash running a few inches across his bicep. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Seriously?" Raph raised an eye ridge, surrendering Don over into Mikey's hold. "You're gonna doctor me now?
"We need to get moving," Leo urged. "It's a miracle you're as alert as you are," he said to Don.
"Yes I know." Donny agreed. "The things we manage astound even me."
The next morning, with gauze around wrapped snuggly around his arm, Raphael knocked on the open doorframe of Donatello's bedroom. "Got a minute?"
Propped up on several pillows borrowed from the living room, Don set aside a textbook. "What's up."
Snagging a chair, Raph spun it around to sit on it backwards, eyeing the thick bandages wrapped around his brother's leg. There were several stitches under those bandages. "I just got a few questions to ask you is all," Raph finally said. "If you're up for it."
Don shrugged a shoulder. "Ask away."
"Well first of all...how the hell did you get a piece of broken pipe in your leg?" They'd finally been able to figure out what it was under proper lighting. "I mean...that's not exactly a Donny move now is it."
Don flinched. "It's actually kind of embarrassing."
"I ain't gonna laugh at ya Donny."
"Well...I was caught by surprise. The Purple Dragons appeared out of nowhere and in my rush to get away, undetected, I sort of lost my footing and.I..well fell on it. It's amazing they hadn't heard anything really, but then I was trying to be quiet about it. Just a freak accident I suppose you could say." By then he was frowning. It was obvious that he was really bothered that it had happened.
"Why me?" Raph said, changing the subject.
Don turned his frown toward Raph. "What do you mean?"
"I was jus' wondering why you called me instead of Leo. Or Mikey—okay, maybe not Mikey," he amended after receiving a look.
"It's actually sort of interesting...I mean, you are the farthest thing from a morning person I've ever had the misfortune to encounter—no hitting the bedridden!" He defensively held up a pillow until Raph lowered his fist. Don shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I just had a feeling that if I called you then you'd definitely answer. Not that Leo wouldn't, or Mikey wouldn't, obviously they would've. Something was just telling me to call you for help, simple as that."
"Hmmm," Raph hummed thoughtfully and got up from his chair to cross the small distance from his seat to the bed.
In a rare display of affection he leaned forward on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Don's leg, and pressed their foreheads together. "Day or night and everywhere in-between, if you need help you can always call for me, because we're brothers and we take care of each other no matter what."
He stayed there for a heartbeat longer before straightening. "Now get some rest," he said gruffly. "My bike needs a tune up and there ain't no way in hell I'm lettin' Mikey anywhere near the garage after last time..."
But that was a different story.
