[OOM: Up on the roof]

[mnt_raph]

*It's a nice dream. One might even say a happy dream, which is why there's an inadvertant reaction with the Pixie Dust he'd had sprinkled on him two days before. Raph doesn't know it, but he's been floating an inch or so above the bed for a good five minutes now. As one stage of sleep flows into the next, the dream ends and Raph comes crashing down onto the bed. This wakes him up enough to realize he's in bed, and he's not alone. Rolling onto his side he sees a mop of black hair sticking out from under neath the blankets. Half asleep he scoots over and wraps his arms around the sleeping figure, placing a kiss on the nape of her neck.

Something doesn't seem right, but he's too groggy to be able to put a finger on what exactly that is.
He rests his forehead between her shoulders.....her....broad shoulders.....waitaminute....

Eyes opening slowly at first, and then wider when the changes begin to sink in.....'round about now is when the screaming starts....*

Comments

[mnt_raph]

*Still reeling.*

don't blame you.

*He attempts to right himself, and get to his feet. He's cold, and he really wants to hide. Pieces of the night before begin to dribble and dance behind his eyes, and he wants them to go away.*

[locks_it_up]

She helps him to his feet, face turned away from him still.

Her other hand goes up to swipe at her eyes.

"You're going to have to be especially nice to me, you know."

There might be half a smile, there.

[mnt_raph]

*He can't seem to make eyecontact with her...can't imagine why.*

anything.

[locks_it_up]

"You figure it out."

She leads him to the main room. There's a suit laid out on the bed.

"That... should fit you."

A long sigh. She runs her hand through her hair, pauses, looks away.

He knows he fucked up. She doesn't need to belabor the point.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph looks at the suit, but the sight of the clothing still strewn about the floor almost makes him run back to the bathroom and vomit.
The tent should have cleaned that by now. The spells must be broken.
Clearly this is Mike's fault.
Mike.
Will.
Pay.*

i...i will

It's nice. Thanks.

[locks_it_up]

"Welcome."

There's another pause.

Then she kicks Tim's jeans into the wall.

[mnt_raph]

*Maybe it's the contact with the wall, or maybe the tent has finally wisened up, but suddenly the tent is alive with activity. The clothing folds itself and promptly finds its way towards appropriate drawers. The bed makes itself, plush Death front and center at the head of the bed. Even the bottles of cider go towards the recycle bin.

Raph rolls his eyes. Nice timing.*

when?

[locks_it_up]

"When what?"

She looks tired.

[mnt_raph]

*He tilts his head towards the suit on the bed, his hair continues to drip on the floor.*

the wedding.

[locks_it_up]

"I'll let you know."

She folds her arms and leans against the wall.

[mnt_raph]

*He nods sheepishly. Raph doesn't do sheepishly well. It's not false sheepishness, he's very truly of the sheep. It's just so very unlike him. Not knowing what else to do, he just stands where he is, feet rooted to the floor.*

[locks_it_up]

"I'm... I'm gonna go. I'll see you later."

She starts for the door.

[mnt_raph]

*He watches her move towards the door.
She won't come back.
She'll always be there, but she won't come back. She has to come back. He can't have here always there after having lost her. Not like this. Not after that.*

NO!

*He breaks into a run, wet feet sliding across the floor as he goes. He reaches out for her, and ends up clinging to her to keep from falling over.*

Please...please don't...
*The incomplete sentence ends with a complete kiss. Forceful in its despiration.*

[locks_it_up]

She lets it happen.

It's almost too bittersweet for her. She knows he loves her. Her hands are on him, to hold him up, to hold him to her.

As much as she loves the taste, she doesn't quite respond all the way.

She pulls away, head turned to the side, eyes tightly shut, and places her fingers on his lips.

"Not... not now. I'm not going to leave you. I can't. But not now."

[mnt_raph]

*He backs up quickly, as if he'd been struck. A child scolded for breaking a rule he wasn't aware existed. It's a testament to just how distraught he is that he doesn't lash out in some show of bravado.*

[locks_it_up]

She's not crying. She's not. Not. No. She won't.

"I'm..." she's not sorry. Oh, yes she is.

She makes sure that he can stand on his own before she steps away.

[mnt_raph]

*Looking at a spot on the floor, he shakes his head.*

no. it's not fine. outta line. i was outta line. i'm always outta line....

*After an excruciating moment of silent, he manages to collect himself. Never let anyone tell you that Bravery isn't action in the face of absolute misery. He stands up to his full height, face impassive.*

You don't deserve this. I'm gonna fix it.
Promise.

*It's a pathetic, drippy sort of bravery, anyway.*

[locks_it_up]

She reaches out and touches his cheek, and sighs, head bowed.

It's only for a moment.

"I believe you."

[mnt_raph]

*Still facing her, his eyes dart away*

Hope so. I promised someone I'd never hurt you. Never make you cry. Somethin' out of my control made me break that promise.

[locks_it_up]

There's not a sniffle. No, sir.

She nods.

"I'll let you know when the wedding starts."

A pause.

"I'd like you to dance with me, there."

[mnt_raph]

*He slumps slightly. Not only at the sniffle, but at the "I'm leaving" tone of things.*

okay. yeah, keep me posted.

*His head shoots up when she mentiones dancing.*

No problem.

[locks_it_up]

She can't help it.

She kisses his cheek.

And then she's gone.

[mnt_raph]

*He stands there.
Still dripping.
Still clad in only boxershorts.
Still disgusted, dirty, and damaged.

The anger sneaks up on him.*

FUCK