ROTTMNT Stuff (And Some 2k12)

Candyland

Called to the Devil and the Devil said

"Hey! Why've you been calling this late?

It's like 2 A.M. and the bars all closed at 10 in hell, that's a rule I made"

Anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself

And you don't want no help, oh well

That's the story to tell

——————

Donatello had finally returned to the home after having spent two and a half days within the hospital. His chest continued to ache but that did not deter him from attempting to move around, unlike he had been the past few weeks.
His legs felt like jello and his feet felt like lead. He couldn't make it more than a few steps without stumbling and nearly falling. He felt useless, utterly useless, and it was horrible. He couldn't do his work to enhance anything that might be needed of him, he couldn't do anything with everyone that wasn't involving him sitting on the couch tucked under a weighted blanket and heating pad, he couldn't make his tech,

He was useless.

Completely and utterly, useless. It made something akin to guilt and most definitely shame bubble within him. Like he had done something wrong—so very wrong. He hated it. He hated every bit of it. But he didn't show it, he was worried to. He didn't want to burden his family with more problems than they already have. He had already messed many things up, and wasted the time of the others just because his body wouldn't work correctly.

You should have been able to take on those kids. It would have been easy even with your little knowledge on combat and your. . Flaws. And yet you didn't. You allowed it to happen and you didn't do anything but cry like a pathetic—

"Yo Don!"
"U- uhm— Yeah—?" The softshell blinked,  realizing he had gotten lost in thought. . .
"Wanna help teach the goat man how to play candy land?" His self-proclaimed twin questioned from his place in the doorway.
He thought for a moment, face scrunching into an unknown expression before nodding.
"Want me to carry you?"
". . If you could— Still can't walk. . ." He mumbled, shame dripping from his tone as he looked to the side.
"Yo, it's fine dude. No biggie. That's why we're givin' ya physical therapy for them! Your training shouldn't be that bad." He grinned reassuringly, walking over and scooping the latter up into his arms.
"I- I suppose. ."
"Yeah, yeah. 'Suppose' stuff later! Now it's time for candy land with the G-man!" He suddenly sprinted from the room, running towards the main area where the others sit.
"'N- Nardo-! You're gonna drop m- me—!" He exclaimed, clinging to his shoulders subconsciously as the latter continued sprinting.
"No I'm not! See? Look, we're here." He grinned, slowing to a simple walking pace until entering the room. "Sup! I have acquired the beach-ball fearer!"

"'Nardo! Stop bringing that up!"
"No! It's funny so I, in fact, won't." He grinned, laying him down on the couch that sat across from a coffee table. He sat with the others, huddled around the table in question while the others finished setting up the game.
"So this is this 'candyland' you have spoken of?" The Baron cocked an eyebrow.
"Yep! We would've chosen something like Uno but Braniac over here always uses his 'special tactic' and wins,"
"And these two're always at each other's throats with Sorry. It's always Mikes who goes feral for the other games." Raph finished.
"Hey! Not my fault this family's always so competitive! You are too so don't even!"
"Oh? What game then, lil man?"
"When we're all playing fashion show or Mario kart!"
"And smash bros!" The slider added.
"Not my fault, y'all're just jealous Peach is the best one." He grumbled, crossing his arms.
"You LITERALLY threw me across the room because I picked Peach as a joke man! You go feral!" Leo snapped.
"Hey, not my fault you're very throwable."
"He has a point—" Donnie agreed.
"Oi! Don't even get me started with you man! Your gaming rage is way worse than all of us!"
"This isn't about me. And we don't talk about that—"