Bunny waited patiently through the whole rant, leaning against the wall for the duration. As Raph's story spilled out, his frustration softened. By the time Raph was done, his expression had reached sympathy and held there.
"You've been through a lot," he said, and when he spoke, his voice was much more thoughtful than before. A little distant. "Makes a lotta sense you'd need to get a challenge in for yourself, get your bearings back that way. Even if it was dangerous. But you're right. What's done is done. No sense me harping on it anymore."
He pushed himself off from the wall, almost as if he was leaving, but pausing -
"It IS really ironic, y'know. Me, telling a kid not to go out on his own, not to go looking for trouble. I mean, of all people. My sensei used to tell me the same thing. Said I was going to get myself killed too young. Said I was going to get someone else killed, if I kept dragging the younger pookas out to do the stupid things I did. Baiting lions, stealing from the Aztecs . . ."
He shrugged.
"It was never anything smart. Really, nothing smart at all. I'd always drag my brothers and sisters out of trouble, but y'know, that was the least I had to, draggin' 'em in in the first place . . . I never did get any of them hurt, but you know what, if things had kept on, one day I might've. But what's done is done," he repeated. "Can't change the past. No sense harping on myself for it now."
"Anyway, he wanted me to stay home, where it was safe. Wanted us all to. Forever. Every last one of us - there were hundreds all in the warren together, and I was the only one who just wouldn't do it."
He shrugged.
"If I'd obeyed him, I wouldn't be alive today. But if I'd taken any of my brothers out with me that night, maybe they still would."
He manages to finish in the same calm, even, if distant, tone, but without meeting Raph's eyes.
"You never got to meet Anansi. He's the Guardian of Stories. He'd tell you you're wrong, too - all this world is made up of stories. That doesn't mean they're all happy ones. But I'll tell you - and he'd back me up on this if he was here - the sad part of a story isn't always its end."
He looked back at Raph again, all the anger and frustration drained away. He got it. He got it all too well.
"I'm very sorry about your father."
He never, ever wanted anyone to be able to give him the same sort of genuine, sympathetic understanding.
"If you need to get out and react to it again without your brother - just let me know where you're going first. I won't get in your way."
Because he'd be behind Raph. Far enough behind that even a trained ninja might not notice him, but close enough that he'd know if the kid needed the backup he didn't want.
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"You've been through a lot," he said, and when he spoke, his voice was much more thoughtful than before. A little distant. "Makes a lotta sense you'd need to get a challenge in for yourself, get your bearings back that way. Even if it was dangerous. But you're right. What's done is done. No sense me harping on it anymore."
He pushed himself off from the wall, almost as if he was leaving, but pausing -
"It IS really ironic, y'know. Me, telling a kid not to go out on his own, not to go looking for trouble. I mean, of all people. My sensei used to tell me the same thing. Said I was going to get myself killed too young. Said I was going to get someone else killed, if I kept dragging the younger pookas out to do the stupid things I did. Baiting lions, stealing from the Aztecs . . ."
He shrugged.
"It was never anything smart. Really, nothing smart at all. I'd always drag my brothers and sisters out of trouble, but y'know, that was the least I had to, draggin' 'em in in the first place . . . I never did get any of them hurt, but you know what, if things had kept on, one day I might've. But what's done is done," he repeated. "Can't change the past. No sense harping on myself for it now."
"Anyway, he wanted me to stay home, where it was safe. Wanted us all to. Forever. Every last one of us - there were hundreds all in the warren together, and I was the only one who just wouldn't do it."
He shrugged.
"If I'd obeyed him, I wouldn't be alive today. But if I'd taken any of my brothers out with me that night, maybe they still would."
He manages to finish in the same calm, even, if distant, tone, but without meeting Raph's eyes.
"You never got to meet Anansi. He's the Guardian of Stories. He'd tell you you're wrong, too - all this world is made up of stories. That doesn't mean they're all happy ones. But I'll tell you - and he'd back me up on this if he was here - the sad part of a story isn't always its end."
He looked back at Raph again, all the anger and frustration drained away. He got it. He got it all too well.
"I'm very sorry about your father."
He never, ever wanted anyone to be able to give him the same sort of genuine, sympathetic understanding.
"If you need to get out and react to it again without your brother - just let me know where you're going first. I won't get in your way."
Because he'd be behind Raph. Far enough behind that even a trained ninja might not notice him, but close enough that he'd know if the kid needed the backup he didn't want.
He turned to go.