[The soft pressure of Sensei's paw touches against his shell - he tries to concentrate on that instead of his aching head, the sour smell of illness dominating his senses, the painful vice-grip cramping of his insides. His stomach clenches painfully once or twice more, but there's hardly anything left in it, and he spits a few mouthfuls of pinkish bile into the dust before quietly gasping down air.]
[Leo stays propped against the wall for a few moments, eyes screwed shut so he doesn't have to look at the sick in front of him or see Master Splinter's shadow cast on the wet brick. When his head stops spinning and he's sure he's not going to throw up again, he silently pulls away, wiping his mouth with the side of his wrist and turning to Splinter, eyes downcast.]
[He doesn't say anything else; just stands in his father's disappointment, waiting.]
no subject
[Leo stays propped against the wall for a few moments, eyes screwed shut so he doesn't have to look at the sick in front of him or see Master Splinter's shadow cast on the wet brick. When his head stops spinning and he's sure he's not going to throw up again, he silently pulls away, wiping his mouth with the side of his wrist and turning to Splinter, eyes downcast.]
[He doesn't say anything else; just stands in his father's disappointment, waiting.]