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01.
Prelude / 8:07 AM |
06.
8:39 AM |
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01.
Prelude / 8:07 AM |
06.
8:39 AM |
EARLIER. . .
7:24 AM
“Damn it!"
"Hey, Raph, ease up. It’s just a —"
"I will not ease up!"
With that exclamation, Raphael threw down the controller of his X-Box with vehemence. His brow furrowed in anger and he jabbed an accusing finger at Donatello, who held the opposing controller during their game of Dead or Alive 3. "You cheated! You fucking cheated like you always do!"
Don gave Raph his best baffled expression for the simple fact that he truly was baffled this time. Raph getting ticked about things he really had no place getting ticked about was nothing new to Don or any of the others... but that didn’t make putting out the flames of his anger any easier. "Look," Don spoke, "I’m not even sure how one would even go about cheating in this game... let it go, man."
Raphael stormed up from the sofa to be directly in Don’s face, swatting the controller out of his hands and giving him a shove. "I will not let it go... not this time, not ever again!"
"Hey, I — "
Raph gave him another shove, this one harder than the last. "You think you’re bad ’cause you play video games all day? Because you’re glued to the internet all day? You, the badass computer geek? Huh, Donny? Is that it?"
Don threw his hands up in exasperation. "I told you, I — "
Leonardo burst in from Splinter’s meditation chamber, none too pleased about what he had heard so far. "All right, just what the hell is going on in here?"
The two brothers each seemed to indicate the other, citing their own reasons for the conflict.
Leo shook his head. "I don’t want to hear about it, guys. You guys are damn near twenty-four years old... do you realize that, Raphael?"
"Oh, I gettit." Raphael gave a chuckle. "There your ass goes again, singling me out. I shoulda seen that coming, shouldn’t I have?"
"You’re still my best friend, but contrary to popular belief, bro..." came a familiar voice. Michaelangelo popped his head out from Splinter’s meditation chamber just behind Leo. "... the world still doesn’t revolve around you, Raph."
"Ooh, that’s it... that’s it..." Raphael nudged his way past Don and stormed his way to the exit of their Westwood Cemetery den. "I’m so freaking outro, brothers. You can rot in this cemetery for all I care and I’ll just catch you guys on the flip side, okay? Good!"
"Raph, wait..."
But it was too late. Throwing on his now-trademark trench coat and Humphrey Bogart-esque hat at the same time he hurled a nearby empty Miller beer bottle at the wall, Raphael disappeared into the darkness of the entryway of the crypt they’d come to call home. The sound of shattering glass signified his exit.
"Damn!" Donatello shouted, giving the X-Box controller a resounding kick with his foot. "He does this every time..."
Michaelangelo buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. "It’s not the first time, Donny... and it won’t be the last."
Leonardo only shook his head.
The soft sound of wood against concrete could be heard in short intervals, one after other, until Splinter limped his way from his bedchamber. He paused for a moment, his wizened gaze passing across the three remaining Turtles’ faces. "So soon after our defeat of the Lady Shredder... so soon after we have vanquished all of the enemies before us that we look to one another to make new enemies." Splinter gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. "I expected more, my sons... so much more."
"I’m sorry, Master Splinter," Leo spoke, bowing to his sensei. "But Raphael... you understand..."
As Splinter retreated back to his bedchamber, Donatello found himself throwing on some sweat pants and a sweatshirt — some fresh air would decidedly do him good and he thought he knew of just the place to go.
"You’re heading out also, Donny?" Mike asked.
Don gave a nod. "Yeah... but just to get some fresh, morning air, you know?"
"I hear you." Mike let a short sigh and started for his coat. "Maybe I’ll see what April and Casey are up to... check up on Shadow."
As the other Turtles left, Leonardo was left alone in the mausoleum lair. Not saying a word, Leo clenched his hand into a fist, feeling the anger welling within him, building, growing.
No, he thought to himself, I’m better than this... stronger. I have to be, for all of us.
Quietly, he headed further into the lair to better collect his thoughts. There was much to meditate on this morning.
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