Chapter Text
Donatello couldn’t move.
He clawed at the concrete below him as if it was going to help. It didn’t stop Shredder from obliterating Donnie’s battle shell. The sheer force made Don’s body lurch forward. He saw the purple metal fly, his soft shell now exposed. Donnie screamed in fear.
He knew what would happen next. It felt like an eternity, staring at the pavement, waiting. He jolted as the claws came down once more. It was warm, it was sharp, it hurt . Donnie screamed in pain.
Luckily, that second attack gave Don an opening. He turned over and gave Shredder everything he had.
A handkerchief.
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“Bye guys!” April waved from her apartment’s front steps, Mayhem in hand. The turtles tiredly waved back.
“Bye April! We’ll see you when you’re no longer grounded!” Leo quipped.
“OHHHHH! If I had something to throw at you…” She trailed off as she slammed the door behind her. The rest of the Hamato Clan laughed before hopping down to the sewers.
The conversing between the family had long since died down, everyone silently agreeing to channel their energy into making it back home and crashing in the living room. They would talk about the whole ordeal tomorrow. The fighting had caught up with them, bruising their skin and making their bones creak. Well, that last one was mainly about Splinter.
And Donatello had more than just a bruise.
The pain in his shell had grown stronger over the past few hours. It was to the point that he was forced to keep his shoulder movements to a minimum, as upper-body motion would flare up any irritations by at least thirty-nine percent.
But…to Donnie’s confusion, he wasn’t experiencing any symptoms of blood loss. Back at the stadium, his BioScan only showed some bruises. He’d analyzed his complexion over the walk home to find it hadn’t paled any. He didn’t feel dizzy, nor was his heartbeat irregular. And well, he was tired, but that could be tied to the fact that they had been fighting for what, three days ?
So besides the throbbing in his shell and the bruises on his appendages, Donnie considered himself to be perfectly healthy. He’d check out the wound when he got back home. But the fact that his top-notch scanner didn’t pick up on the injury unsettled him. Perhaps some programming needed to be reevaluated, or maybe the Tech-Bō needed to charge again?
Should he have told his family about what happened at the docks?
“Hey, Dee. You alright?”
Donnie snapped out of his thoughts to see Raph with Mikey on his back, both giving concerned looks. Leo and Dad had also turned around. Oh. He had fallen behind. “You know, if you’re tired, there’s always a seat on the Raph Train,” Raphael grinned as he pointed to his shell. Mikey pumped his first with a little “choo-choo!”
“There is no need to worry, my dear brethren. I just zoned out a bit while brainstorming some new blueprints. Besides, I know you’re—“ Donnie paused to fake yawn, “—just as tired as me.”
Raph’s “worry chasm” deepened. “Are you sure? I can carry you and Mikey just fine.”
Donnie gave a dismissive wave, to which Raph shrugged and continued walking. Donnie was a stubborn mule, so pushing for more information never worked. But that doesn’t mean the family believed his excuses. They kept glancing back every few seconds, making sure their brother was keeping up. It’s a good thing the Lair was close by.
Everyone sighed in relief when they entered. “Ah, home sweet home!” Leo said as he jumped onto their one chair. Splinter yelled “off!” and whipped Leon with his tail, before sprawling out on the chair in his place.
“Aw, come on Dad! You promised to build a pillow fort when we got back!” Mikey begged, using his puppy eyes for extra points. “And you said we could watch whatever we wanted! And we could eat snacks, and we could do…”
Splinter twitched his whiskers and sighed. “Alright, I suppose I did. Everyone, grab some pillows!” He hopped off the chair and headed to his bedroom that he never sleeps in. The brothers proceeded to do the same.
Donnie switched on his room’s LED lights, then climbed his bed’s ladder to grab his singular Purple pillow. Donnie had the least amount of pillows to gather. Unlike Raph, who has approximately twenty-two throw pillows, Don values the comfort and practicality that comes from state-of-the-art sleep technology. And also, the brand is literally called PURPLE. How could Donatello possibly resist?
Don overheard his older brothers bickering over something in Raph’s room. Really, guys? He thought. We just defeated a centuries-old demon. Anyway, if he tallied up everybody’s pillow count, then the total number would be forty-six. Forty-six-and-a-half, technically, but Mikey made him swear to never bring up the Soufflé Incident .
Donnie halted. When had he become so…off-track? He was acting just like his brothers. Maybe it’s because of the pain. Oh yeah, his shell still hurts, if you forgot.
Donnie shook his head and climbed back down. He started searching his desk’s shelves for the “less serious” blueprints. The ones for water balloon cannons, torture devices for Leo, and of course, pillow forts. His fingers dragged along the scrolls until he saw a label saying FORT PIGEON-DOWN . Seems promising. Donnie scanned the blueprint’s layout, which was complete with a drawbridge, functioning cannons, and even a bathroom.
The pain in his soft shell spiked. Fuck, he really needed to take care of this. He hissed through his teeth as he dropped the pillow on the floor, turning around to head to the Lab.
“Donnie. Medbay. Now.”