Chapter Text
Ah, yes. Here we have two mutant family members arguing for the third time today, about what? No one knows. All everyone knew was Splinter was blaming Donatello for the breakage of something, and the turtle was putting his two cents in as well. . .
——————
"Damnit Purple you said you have fixed the T.V.!" The rat man snapped, scowling.
"I did! But you got angry at it and threw the damn remote at it for the fifth time in a row!" The latter countered.
"Well it isn't my fault these shows are terrible!"
"Then choose better shows!"
"How about you find me better shows!"
"How do I do that?! That's cable television in case your little rat brain hasn't noticed!"
"I dunno! Hack it or do that weird techy stuff or something!"
"Oh, yes, because that's all I am to you. Your little crime-doer and hacker! Bet you want me to hack the Pentagon next, huh? Or- or maybe the damn Whitehouse?!"
". . ."
"I bet you just keep me around because of that, huh?! You know what don't even reply to that I already know the damn answer."
"No, I do not. I keep you around because your brothers need—"
"YOU DON'T NEED ANYTHING MORE THAN MY TECH!" He screamed, tears spotting the corners of his eyes. "So why would they. . ?"
"Damnit child shouldn't those sessions with oranges counterparts be helping? Because they don't seem to."
"He shouldn't have to do that. . ." He murmured.
"Speak up child, I cannot hear you." He growled.
"I said, he shouldn't HAVE to be giving me those sessions! He's just a kid! He shouldn't be the damn family therapist!! You should have realized, or can you not remember that either?" He scowled.
"You are one to talk, you helped provide him with a degree in the subject, do you not remember?"
"Oh I remember very clearly old man. I also remember having to remind him about the fact he isn't useless after doing so because he specifically said he quote- 'wanted to be helpful' because he thought he wasn't useful enough! He came to me because he didn't trust you enough to come to you with his problems!" He screamed, voice wavering and unhelpful and, in his opinion, quite pitiful amount.
"I do not get why he-"
"Because you don't act like you care! The most you do to acknowledge us is to yell at us for being too close to the t.v. and to get you your stupid milk and cake! Or when you need something to yell at for a show's horrible ending!"
"I do not."
"Yes, you do." He narrowed his eyes, leaning down ever so slightly closer to his father's face. "But apparently you're too blind to notice when your sons are in need of you more than just the bare minimum."
"You are no son of mine." He stated coldly.
"Wh- what. . ?" His eyes widened, standing up straight and pulling his arms close to his chest. His eyes watered.
"Get out."
"Wh-"
"Get. Out." He snarled, pointing to the exit of the lair.
"I—" He started, before his voice caught in his throat and the tears started to spill over. "F- fine. . ." He swallowed thickly, his throat feeling dry with shame as he turned and speed-walked to the lab. He shut the door, grabbing a backpack from a corner and beginning to pack the necessary things for survival. He packed multiple pairs of clothes, a few water bottles, some granola bars, and most importantly; money.
He threw on the backpack after pulling on his hoodie, putting his phone in his pocket and sprinting out. All in a blurry haze of tears and choked sobs. He didn't even bother to stop when the other three greeted him in the kitchen, taking a painful gasp for air as he wiped his tears with his arm and exited the lair completely.
The other three blinked in confusion, and soon their faces grew into looks of worry.
"Was Donnie. . Crying. . ?" The snapper asked.
"Yo am I the only one who saw how fast he was trying to leave? And right after—"
"Why does he have a backpack on?" Mikey interrupted, earning a confused glance from the other two. "He had a backpack, and it looked full."
"Maybe we can call him? I don't think he wants to be bothered right now to be honest—" Leo began.
"We're talking to pops. Obviously he has something to do with this." Raph decided, walking out of the kitchen and towards the lounge.
The other two followed close in tow.
——————
The softshell stifled a wretched sob, trying not to draw attention to him as he walked through the busy streets of New York. His feet slapped cold concrete as he walked, going as fast as possible to. . Who knows where? He isn't even sure which way he's going let alone where he's going. Most likely somewhere near Staten island or nearby, so definitely east I suppose. . He decided, too hyper focused on trying to not draw attention and stopping his crying. In his opinion, it was rather pathetic. Why was he crying over being kicked out by a man he didn't even deem worthy of being a father figure? He shouldn't be crying, he was prepared for this. He's been prepared for this for years. Up to this point he was just waiting for it to happen.
The softshell turned into a long alleyway. Perhaps he could find some place to rest for a few minutes while he searches for a hotel or something online. He found an empty milk crate within a pile of boxes, snatching it and flipping it upside down so he could sit. He set his backpack beside him, leaning against the wall. He pulled out his phone, going straight to the Google search engine and beginning his search.
There were faint footsteps from the other side of the alleyway, which the softshell hadn't noticed. They quickly grew nearer, along with loud barked laughs from what sounded to be teenagers. There was a large group, probably around 5 or 6. The laughing seemed to quiet as they grew closer, only small Snickers coming from the late few as they stopped in front of the softshell, turning to face him with cocky grins. "Oi, what're you doin' man?" One questioned.
"Nothing of your concern—" The terrapin stated, not looking up from his phone.
"Oh? I think it is though, bud. This is our hangout."
"Fine, I don't want any trouble, so I'll leave." He decided, reaching for his backpack before suddenly having his wrist grabbed and yanked towards the boys.
"I don't think so. What if you tell your dumb little friends and they start coming over?"
"Don't have any, you are safe. Now please release my wrist—"
"'safe', huh? What would they do? Beat me with a textbook?" He questioned, causing the rest of the group to bark with laughter.
"It's a figure of sp—" He began, abruptly being cut off as he was yanked forward into a stand. His hoodie being grabbed and him being yanked down to the jocks level, trying to pull him off.
"Don't try and be a smartass, nerd."
"Been called worse, imbecile. Now please unhand me—"
"The hell did you just call me?!" He snapped, letting go and winding up a punch.
The terrapin's eyes widened, narrowly avoiding a fist to the face as he grabbed the boy's wrist, twisting in such a way the jock went spinning and crashing to the ground on his back.
"OW, damnit!" He yelled, sitting up.
Donnie took that as his chance to leave, grabbing his backpack and sprinting towards the exit.
The boy scowled, snapping and pointing to him.
The others nodded, speeding after and tripping the purple-clad.
He flew forward, launching his bag too far away to reach and causing his phone to shatter upon impact with the ground. His chin smacked into the ground with a yelp, suddenly feeling his arms being yanked from behind him and pulling him up.
The boys pinned his arms to the side, causing him to wince from the tight hold.
The main jock stood, walking over and scowling. "Stupid BRAT!" He snapped, landing a punch straight to the gut.
Donnie winced, keeping his beak tightly shut. Don't scream don't scream don't scream—
There was another, and another, and another. . . Finally causing the terrapins knees to buckle after endless shaking. The jocks released him, letting him crumple to the floor and gasp for air before beginning to pummel him with angry kicks and heavy punches.
You get what you fucking deserve, kid. A distant thought appeared in the softshell's mind, in which the jocks seemed to repeat aloud as if reading his mind.
He cried out whenever they hit his shell, curling in on himself the best he could as his weak cries grew louder. Stop stop stop stop—
After a while, they eventually stopped. Finally growing bored and leaving while loudly celebrating.
The terrapin was left in the alley, gasping desperately for the air that was knocked out of him while juggling the pain both his shell and the rest of his body was in. He whined in pain whenever he moved, a new spike of pain shooting his body as he weakly cried out again. Pathetic. Useless. Defenseless. Stupid softshell. His mind provided mercilessly. Didn't even think to bring your stupid battle shell.
There were more footsteps from afar, to which Donnie assumed to be the jocks returning either with more friends or for another round of "turtle punching bag".
It turns out it was neither, it was someone much, much worse.
"Hello, Donatello." A deep voice spoke menacingly.
He couldn't find it in himself to respond, instead just moving wrong and whimpering in pain.
They must have made it really easy for me, haven't they? The sheep man thought fondly. Easy takings. Although. . . He glanced back down at the softshell, who lay on his side still curled in on himself. I suppose an injured soldier is a dead soldier.
He awaited for the Baron to do something. Kidnap him, kill him, something. But it never came, which further terrified him.
"What has caused such painful noises, child?" He questioned, voice staying flat and monotone.
He just sharply inhaled, wincing as his lungs began to burn. He flinched as he felt vines snake under him, eyes squeezing shut and awaiting his capture. Pathetic. Can't even fight back for your own life.
The Baron lifted the mutant off the ground, examining the wounds he was able to see on his legs. He wasn't able to see much, due to the fact the terrapin was nearly curled into a ball. "Relax your body, child." He ordered.
The softshell hesitantly complied, ever so slowly relaxing as he bit back another cry. He was on his back now, legs dangling off the vines and arms at his sides. His legs were ever so carefully lifted to be straight by some vines, whimpering and tensing up for a second before relaxing again.
Draxum examined the bruises that lined his skin, shaking his head in an unknown emotion. "What has caused this?" I must know so I know how to ensure it does not happen again under my command. . . Surely.
"F- from. . From the beg- ginning—?" He questioned.
"Yes."
"W- well. . ." He began, proceeding to tell the Sheep man everything. After all, Not like he could use it against me at all. Or if he could, it wouldn't matter anyway.
By the end of the explanation the Barons face looked of mild concern and anger. "Child, why have you decided to live with this man? Your scientific genius was wasted away living in such conditions." He commented.
"W- well. . I mean I don't anymore, re- remember. . ? And, wh- where else would I go, anyway. . . ?" He rasped, letting out a singular chuckle before whimpering again in pain at the action.
The sheep man shook his head in disdain. "No, child. Even I know you do not deserve such treatment by a father." He pulled him close to his chest, cradling him in his arms as the latter leaned against his chest with a sharp inhale of pain and a clench of his teeth.
"A- aren't you gonna. . Kill me- or something—?"
"No, I am not."
"B- but what. . What about your plans—"
"My plans can wait, for now I have a child to tend to." He stated.
"Heh. . Ow—" He winced.
He shook his head, picking up the bag via the vines and taking it with him towards the spot he had arrived at the human city from.
"Y- y'know. . That's the first— ow, time a parent aged. . Adult called me b- by my name. . . Unsure H- how to feel. ." He rasped, a small chuckle emitting from him as he winced.
"I am a supposed 'villain', not a monster, Donatello." He stated, adjusting his hold so the latter didn't fall by accident.
"Mhm. . ." He mumbled, feeling quite drowsy. He attempted to stay awake, just in case there was something needed of him, but ultimately failed. He fell asleep, cradled carefully in the Barons arms with his head leaning against his chest.
New father figure acquired ✔️