ROTTMNT Stuff (And Some 2k12)

Can't You Hear Me? (I'm Not Coming Home)

Get up! Get up they're hurting!! GET UP—

He hissed, his glitching growing almost out of control looking as he attempted to push the foot off of his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the skinny one marching his way towards the net with another piece of most likely dangerous tech. No no nononono!! He pushed on the foot again, digging his nails into the top and hissing.
The brute yowled, recoiling back and hopping up and down on one foot as he held the other.
The softshell shot up, swaying slightly before shaking his head and launching at the skinny one with a snarl. Protect them— Don't let them be hurt or it's your fault! Don't let him hurt them!!
The skinny one's eyes shifted to the genius, twisting and crossing his arms in front of his face to block the oncoming attack.
Donnie landed directly on him, slamming him into the floor and pinning him down. His teeth barred, the corners of his eyes sparking a few times as what looked like a small arsenal of various guns pixelated behind him, facing the foot face. Kill him. . He can't hurt them if he's dead! His mind provided, eyes narrowing.

"—onnie!"
. . .
"Do- ie!! Do—"
What?
"Donnie!! Don't- ill—"
Oh, his brothers were yelling. .
"—Onnie don't kill—!- Em!"
But I have to. . They'll hurt you—
"Donnie!!"
His head snapped up, turning to them with worry.
"Donnie, Dondon calm down— We ain't hurt we're okay—" The snapper assured, attempting to keep his voice as calm and level as possible. He kept the other two behind him.
He wanted to say something in response, but all that came out was a concerned chirp.
Raph's face was one akin to concern and another indecipherable emotion. . . It didn't help him at all that he was letting off his fear-stink.
He went to sit up, noticing the visible flinch back from the trio. His eyes widened slightly, his markings growing slightly dimmer. They're— they're scared. . Scared of me— I scared them. . . They shouldn't be scared of me— That's not right. . He just chirped again, attempting to say something to reassure them he won't hurt them. It went fruitless, his attempts. He looked back down at the foot face he was still on top of, flinching back in realization at what he'd done and even what he would have done had he listened to the voice. . .

And he wasn't even thinking anything of it when he did. . . .

He shook his head, turning back to his brothers and chirping loudly. Speak!! Why can't I speak damnit—!?
No no stop! They're scared of you. Enough with your futile attempts! Something hissed from the back of his mind.
No they shouldn't be scared— I just want to protect them—
Then protect them. You still can, even if they're scared. . .
No I don't wanna scare them!!
But you did. And you still are! You know you want to protect them, and you know you want to make these things pay for what they want to do. They want to make your brothers pets! They want to hurt them, force them to be in the foot clan! Do you want that, Purple?!
. . .
Purple. . ?
He hadn't noticed, but his breathing had grown significantly quicker, tears streaming heavy down his face. He breathed through his teeth, keeping them clenched tightly. He returned his gaze to his brothers, noticing the other two peaking over Raph worriedly. He diverted his gaze to the skinny general, brows furrowing as he inhaled heavily. He raised his hand, snatching the man up by the neck and standing as the other struggled. His artificial battle shell shifted around, four large disks appearing upon it, much like his hover shell but slightly larger for a heavier load. The disks whirred, neon fans spinning at rapid speed and lifting the two into the air. He spun around, launching directly at the large one and snatching his wrist before shooting up through the ceiling into the big black ink sky.

"DONNIE!!" The three screeched, watching as the figures disappeared into the night.
"Raph what the shell do we do?!" Mikey yelled, latched to the oldest's arm.
Meanwhile Leo was slashing at the net, desperately attempting to slice it.
"I- I don't know. . . Um. . Mikey- d'you got your phone-?"
"I think— I don't know—" He patted himself down, shaking his head no.
"Crap— Leo you still got yours? Leo?" He turned to the slider, who wasn't letting up his escape attempts.
"Leo, stop. It ain't gonna work."
"I- I gotta try— We don't know where he went and we gotta make sure he doesn't get hurt! You saw how worried he got- you had to've!"
"I think him gettin' hurt is the least of our worries." He sighed. "Let's just call pops to get us outta here."
". . Alright— Fine—"