Title: The Argument
Author: vashsunglasses
Rating: T
Fandom: TMNT
Disclaimer: TMNT is owned by Mirage.
Summary: One-Shot. DarkFic. On a mission, while crouched together on a small rooftop, the turtles have an argument.
Note: This has been sitting halfway finished on my hard drive for several months. Basically I just wanted to write the turtles having an argument, but without ever using a 'he said' to indicate who is who. I hope it is clear who is speaking in each case.
"This is real fucking stupid," Raph punctuated this with cavalier flip of his sai. Sarcastic.
Leo's shoulders corded. "I don't remember asking you for your opinion on this mission, Raphael." High tension cable wasn't strung so tightly. Cold.
Raph glared. "What, so I have to ask your permission to have an opinion now?" Baiting.
"Oh god…" Donatello had known a peaceful mission was an impossible dream, but he couldn't help being disgusted. He opened the zipper of his shoulder bag just enough to reach one hand inside and fiddle around with the assorted electronic innards.
An interruption. "Can't we all just get along?" The rooftop where the brothers knelt was small and crowded with their familiar forms, bringing to mind the nights before electricity when only the heat of identical child bodies kept back the chill. Mikey hated it when his brothers fought.
Growled sandpaper rough, dark. "Shut up Mike!" Angry.
Donatello flinched and shoved his hand in deeper. If he didn't look up he wouldn't have to see the hurt flicker across the youngest face.
"Don't you talk to him that way. Your problem is with me." Protective.
"The whole world doesn't revolve around you!" Defiant.
"I never said it did!" Indignant.
"Well you sure as hell act like it!" Righteous.
Curled, hands over his ear holes, biting his lip. "Stop it. Stop fighting." Mikey whispered. Ignored.
A gadget is selected at random and glossed over with by green hands. "What good is it to complain? It won't change anything." Weary.
A dark look. "Mind your own business, Brainiac!" Mean.
The look is returned with a badly hidden flinch, fingers tightening so that the nameless gadget's plastic casing is stressed.
"Don't you talk to him that way!" Weight is shifted to place more pressure against the turtle in red towards the edge of the building. A shift is all that's needed to push him off now.
A gasp and hands fly to tighten securely around a heavily muscled arm, pulling towards the youngest. "Don't fall!"
"Don't touch me." A hiss. Virulent.
The gadget is dropped among their feet, "How could you say that to him? He's only trying to help!"
Bared teeth. "I though I told you to mind your own business?" Challenge.
Blue leans against red even harder while orange simultaneously tightens his grip and cringes away. Purple might as well not be there for all his avoidance of any physical contact.
Again, the Leader. "You have a problem with me, Raph? Don't take it out on them!" Defensive.
And the Rebel. "If they don't want a piece of this, they shouldn't butt into my business." The sai flicks back and forth like a metronome.
And the Child. Blue eyes waver against orange silk. "No more fighting. Please?" Beg.
And the Genius. "Don't waste your breath, Mikey. Those two don't care what we think." The gadget is picked up.
"How dare you?" Rage.
"Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight." Terror.
The gadget cracks in half. Silence.
"What do you mean I don't care Donatello? Raph's the one who started this!" Denial.
"Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight." Green hands loose their grip on their older brother's arm and return to covering his ears. Hide.
"Shut up, Michelangelo!" Hands knuckle around sai.
"Don't talk to him that way!" Leo shifts into him one last time… and shifts too far.
And there are three where once crouched four. A gasp. Shock.
Raph lies still in the alley below, red on red. End.
Note: Is this a death fic? Well… that's up to you. It could go either way.