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By the third day, he argued less.
She spent more time with the laptop than anything else, the device becoming a fixed point in everything they did, something she refused to give up on even when the results were consistently disappointing. She repaired it as far as she could, restored enough function that it responded, that it held data, that it tried to connect—
“Which means we are deeper than expected,” she said at one point, more to herself than to him, her eyes fixed on the screen as she cross-referenced what little data she could still access.
“…that bad?” he asked, watching her from where he sat nearby.
“It complicates navigation,” she replied, which for her meant more than she said outright.
She worked through it anyway, pulling up maps, comparing terrain markers, referencing her notes on the artifact, on the myth she had mentioned before, looking for anything that could anchor them to something real instead of just endless green.
Raph watched her for a while, the steady focus, the way she didn’t stop even when it wasn’t working, and after a bit something else surfaced, something more practical, more immediate.
“…can I hunt or somethin’ ?” he asked.
She looked up at him then, properly this time, her expression shifting just slightly as she processed the question.
“You want to hunt,” she repeated.
He shrugged, though there was a faint edge under it. “I eat more than you. This ain’t enough.”
She considered that, actually considered it, her gaze narrowing slightly as she thought it through.
“There are small wild pigs in this region, I think,” she said slowly. “But they are difficult to track. You would need to move quietly, follow their patterns, understand—”
“Great,” he said, cutting in, decision made before she could finish. “I’ll go try that.”
She blinked once, then leaned back slightly, something like amusement flickering across her face.
“Of course you will,” she said, her voice dry again. “Go ahead. Let your… what is the phrase—” she paused, just slightly, “—toxic masculinity guide you.”
Raph shot her a look over his shoulder, already moving toward the edge of their clearing.
“Yeah, keep talkin’,” he muttered.
Just watched him go, that faint, knowing look still there, like she already knew exactly how it was going to play out.
And he hated that she probably did.
It took him closer to two hours than he would ever admit out loud, and by the time Raphael pushed back through the undergrowth into their small clearing, there were scratches along his arms, dried mud up his legs, and a tension still coiled in his shoulders that hadn’t fully settled yet, but he was grinning anyway, sharp and unapologetic, the kind of grin that came from something hard won rather than easily taken. The animal hung from his grip with visible effort, a small wild pig just as she had described, not large but dense, solid, and very much real in a way that made the entire attempt worth it.
He didn’t say anything at first.
Just stepped into the firelight and held it up slightly, like the proof spoke for itself.
Evelyn looked up from where she had been crouched near the fire, something already simmering low over the coals, her gaze flicking from the animal to him and then back again, and there was a pause there, just long enough to register the effort it must have taken, just long enough that he almost expected something—surprise, maybe, or acknowledgment that wasn’t wrapped in sarcasm.
Instead, one corner of her mouth lifted, faint and entirely too controlled.
“…do you want praise?” she asked, her tone dry enough to take the edge off anything that might have been sincere.
Raph’s grin faltered into a scowl almost immediately. “Don’t start,” he muttered, lowering the pig with a bit more force than necessary, though he didn’t drop it entirely, not careless enough to undo what he’d just managed.
“Oh, no, you absolutely do,” she continued, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him, that quiet amusement settling into her expression in a way that made it worse. “Such a good job. Truly impressive. You went into the jungle and came back with something larger than a fish.”
“Yeah, alright,” he cut in, irritation flaring just enough to cover the flicker of satisfaction that still sat underneath it. “You done?!.”
“Such a good boy,” she purred lightly, and that was what did it.
“Yeah, you can fuck right off with that,” he shot back, dropping the pig fully now and stepping back a fraction, his hands coming up briefly like he didn’t know what to do with them before settling on his hips instead.
She huffed something that might have been a suppressed laugh, shaking her head slightly as she shifted her attention back to the task at hand.
Raph glanced down at the animal, then back at her, then back again, the earlier confidence stalling out just enough for reality to catch up with it.
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