[ The world is a chaotic thing. A mass of fragmented thoughts, memories, drenched in a heat that burns at Robby when he comes to in a gasping panic. He's restricted, Mister LaRusso is above his body again, or so he thinks; but it's the bedsheet twisted against his limbs that Robby frantically tears away with a sob. He needs to get out; he needs to get Mister LaRusso out.
Some part of him realises this isn't that time, but--it doesn't matter, really. Relief doesn't come, and the panic stays as he struggles to remember the events: Sunny asking him to help Mob, finding him with Paimon and Midoriya; Sunny and Mob disappearing for a time before coming back, being safe. Instances that blink in and out of Robby's memory as he pushes himself down, searching a way off from where he's laying until his feet and legs are hanging off the bed, and the rest of Robby joins himself on the floor. He only just manages to cling on, holding onto the edge as if for dear life.
And maybe he is, with how his limbs ache and the world feels like it's on fire. Is this it? Did he push it too far? Saeri--he's sorry. All those warnings, and he didn't even do anything worthwhile with the tattoo. It was a demon that got Sunny there.
But if he's dying, or only if he's sick, Robby doesn't want to be stuck in here in this room. It doesn't seem like he has a choice, when lifting himself up seems impossible, but Robby tries at, scraping his hands farther along the bed to get his feet under him. He doesn't know if he's breathing hard from the effort or from his burning head. Robby stops anyway to catch his breath, twisting his head to look behind him and the distance to the door.
It's farther than he likes. Even with his eyes closed, Robby feels the dizzying behind his lids. But he has to move, he has to--because what if Mister LaRusso isn't awake yet? What if he never does wake? Robby left him, and it kills him to think about, and that's reason enough for Robby to push himself onto his feet. The lamp on his bedside table knocks over when he stumbles towards it to grab at the wall, and that's how Robby fumbles his way towards the door. Clinging onto surfaces, pressing his face against any- and everything cool.
Sluggishly, miserably, Robby finds his hands on the handle of Mister LaRusso's bedroom door. It takes a few rattles to get it open, and he holds on as he walks carefully into the room. Purposely avoiding looking at the bed until he's a decent way in, and he sees a figure there. A body. A person.
A man.
He slurs his title and surname in a shaky breath, and wobbles on slow steps over to the bed. His knees buckle even at the lightest bump against the mattress, but Robby doesn't care--Mister LaRusso isn't moving, might be asleep, and no no no-- ]
You can' sleep, [ he mumbles, trying to be loud and failing. He lets his weight knock over, and he falls onto the better on an elbow, hunched over, but--it's fine. Mister LaRusso's right there, and he can get his hands onto him now. ]
L'russo, Mm-- 'Russo. Dad, dad. [ His upper arms ache with each push of his arms sore to the bone, but Robby persists. Pushing, nudging, pleading. ] You can't die--.... I didn't mean it, I thought I was helping... Thought I could do it.
[ And now look at Mister LaRusso, look what he did to him. Look what he did to everyone. ]
for daniel
Some part of him realises this isn't that time, but--it doesn't matter, really. Relief doesn't come, and the panic stays as he struggles to remember the events: Sunny asking him to help Mob, finding him with Paimon and Midoriya; Sunny and Mob disappearing for a time before coming back, being safe. Instances that blink in and out of Robby's memory as he pushes himself down, searching a way off from where he's laying until his feet and legs are hanging off the bed, and the rest of Robby joins himself on the floor. He only just manages to cling on, holding onto the edge as if for dear life.
And maybe he is, with how his limbs ache and the world feels like it's on fire. Is this it? Did he push it too far? Saeri--he's sorry. All those warnings, and he didn't even do anything worthwhile with the tattoo. It was a demon that got Sunny there.
But if he's dying, or only if he's sick, Robby doesn't want to be stuck in here in this room. It doesn't seem like he has a choice, when lifting himself up seems impossible, but Robby tries at, scraping his hands farther along the bed to get his feet under him. He doesn't know if he's breathing hard from the effort or from his burning head. Robby stops anyway to catch his breath, twisting his head to look behind him and the distance to the door.
It's farther than he likes. Even with his eyes closed, Robby feels the dizzying behind his lids. But he has to move, he has to--because what if Mister LaRusso isn't awake yet? What if he never does wake? Robby left him, and it kills him to think about, and that's reason enough for Robby to push himself onto his feet. The lamp on his bedside table knocks over when he stumbles towards it to grab at the wall, and that's how Robby fumbles his way towards the door. Clinging onto surfaces, pressing his face against any- and everything cool.
Sluggishly, miserably, Robby finds his hands on the handle of Mister LaRusso's bedroom door. It takes a few rattles to get it open, and he holds on as he walks carefully into the room. Purposely avoiding looking at the bed until he's a decent way in, and he sees a figure there. A body. A person.
A man.
He slurs his title and surname in a shaky breath, and wobbles on slow steps over to the bed. His knees buckle even at the lightest bump against the mattress, but Robby doesn't care--Mister LaRusso isn't moving, might be asleep, and no no no-- ]
You can' sleep, [ he mumbles, trying to be loud and failing. He lets his weight knock over, and he falls onto the better on an elbow, hunched over, but--it's fine. Mister LaRusso's right there, and he can get his hands onto him now. ]
L'russo, Mm-- 'Russo. Dad, dad. [ His upper arms ache with each push of his arms sore to the bone, but Robby persists. Pushing, nudging, pleading. ] You can't die--.... I didn't mean it, I thought I was helping... Thought I could do it.
[ And now look at Mister LaRusso, look what he did to him. Look what he did to everyone. ]