Whumpril Day 10: Bandages
“Are you absolutely, positively sure you don’t wanna just call Dr. Donnie about this?” Casey demanded again.
“Ya think I would’ve come crawlin’ to you if I wasn’t?” Raph growled, frustration unable to fully mask the strain in his voice as he slumped further down in the bathtub. “S-Stop makin’ me second guess everythin’ and fork over another pad of gauze.”
“This dinky little first aid kit’s only got so much! That’s the last one,” Casey shot back, risking a quick peek to find the rest of the material wadded against his friend’s side already soaked through. “That really isn’t lookin’ so good, dude. I think your bros would wanna know.”
“No. No, they’d just be pissed at me; I wasn’t even s’posed to be topside tonight.” Head falling back against the edge of the tub with a dull thud, disconcertingly pale under the harsh bathroom light, Raph exhaled shakily. “Okay, towels…Any clean towels you don’t mind sacrificin’ for me?”
Casey raised a skeptical brow. “What, like the whole fancy shower set April got for spendin’ the night? That’ll go unnoticed.”
“Old towels, paper towels—pet pads for the stray cat! I’ll take anythin’ you got, c’mon!”
Desperate times called for desperate measures. It still didn’t feel right but Raph wouldn’t complain when his weeping side was treated to a thorough layer of paper towels, followed by the first aid kit’s two or three large adhesive bandages, topped off by a crisscrossing of plastic wrap and duct tape.
“I dunno how you think you’re gonna sneak that past ’em.”
Raph wavered, dropping a shoulder in a weary half shrug. “Mmh, I’ll think of somethin’ on the way home. You’re a real one, Case.”
He would be, once he called ahead to let the others know Raph was coming.
