Like Father Like Son [ROTTMNT]

Chapter Fourteen: Numb

Ba-dump.

"Donnie?"

Ba-dump.

"Donnie, can you get up?"

Ba-dump.

"Donnie, please, you're scaring me."

A hand hesitantly reached out and touched his shoulder and Donnie escaped from his thoughts like a swimmer coming up to breathe. He blinked, thick, salty tears spilling over and dripping down his chin. He started to reach up to wipe at them, but the effort made his vision swim. He gave up and just let the tears keep falling.

He shakily inhaled and turned his head, investigating the hand on his shoulder. It led up to an arm, and then a body. Of course. He should know this, why wasn't his brain working-

Mikey was still staring at him, tears dripping down his own face like some sort of mirror image, and Donnie shuddered under his little brother's wide, vulnerable eyes. He was hurting. He was hurting-

"That- that looks like my tech. Why does that look like my tech?"

-and this was all Donnie's fault.

His chest tightened.

"Dee, we gotta go help Dad," Mikey whispered. He sniffled, eyes searching Donnie's face. "We can't go get Leo until we-"

Donnie turned his head back away, staring at his shaking hands as he held them up to his face. The electrical burn was worse than he had thought, his glove burnt away right on his palm. And that loud heartbeat in his head, and the tingling pain that continued...

He should take all of his tech off. Assess the damage.

One step after another, like a computer reading lines of code. Simple. Easy.

So why couldn't he do it?

There was another crackling sound, his goggles sparking slightly. The area around his tympana stung. "Ah," Donnie said distantly. "Michael... could you get these off...?"

He'd do it himself, but one of his hands was still in agony and he couldn't convince himself to drop the mask tails for even one millisecond. His eyelids, feeling weirdly heavy, fought against his best efforts and started to slide shut.

There was a pause, and then he felt his goggles tug free. His raw skin smarted with the sudden movement before the pain dulled slightly. "Ouch!" Mikey suddenly said, the sound of what was probably the goggles clattering to the ground. "Those are hot , what-"

Mikey went quiet.

"Raph? Donnie- Donnie's hurt!" The youngest turtle called, his voice catching. "I think he needs help!"

Donnie wobbled, about to fully melt into a disjointed puddle on the ground, and barely caught himself in time to remain sitting up. He blinked, prying his eyes back open just in time to see Raph catch April with his larger mystic form, setting her down gently with one hand and leaving Donnie's precious jetpack pinned in place by Draxum's roots. The two immediately turned and raced towards him, and Donnie felt himself flush slightly as he realized that out of everyone, he was the one that needed saving.

Don't waste that effort on me, the thought sprung, unprompted, into his head. He swallowed and tried to get to his feet, limbs shaking.

He barely made it up before his legs gave out again, Mikey gasping and grabbing onto one of his arms. His younger brother pulled, barely keeping Donnie from smacking against the stone, when a large hand grabbed his shell and lifted him up, gentle despite the grasp. Somehow the hand pressing his battle shell against his shell, normally a comforting weight, stung . "Donnie? Where are you hurt?" Raph asked anxiously.