ROTTMNT Stuff (And Some 2k12)

"Then You May Sleep, And Dream Of Wondrous Things"

"Raph," Oh. . His poor brother. His voice sounded so weak and broken, filled with bottled up emotions from who knows how long. Filled with anguish and grief and regret and guilt. Filled with fear.

"I'm tired. . ."

. . .

What?

Oh. .

Oh.

Oh.

"Hey- Hey bud, it's alright, Raph's here. Raph'll take care of ya. . ." He cooed, voice as calm and soothing as he could make it. He turned completely, deciding the water could wait in favor of helping his little brother. He smiled softly, kneeling down in front of him and cupping his face in his hand. "Raph's glad you had the courage to tell 'im. I'm proud of ya for that."
There were only choked up sobs beginning to form within the softshell's throat, cutting off anything he wanted to say as he used his bandaged and unbandaged hands to cling to the latter's arm desperately, as if he would vanish if he let go.

He didn't want him to go.

"Hey. . C'mere bud, c'mere and you can let it out. The others ain't gonna be home for awhile and pops is asleep, so you're safe from that." He reassured, releasing the younger's face and reaching out slowly so he could pick him up. (Slowly so as to not further stress the other out, and so he could push him away if he didn't want that.)
The softshell just nodded, lifting his arms slightly and allowing the older to pick him up like one would a small child.
He placed his hands under his arms and lifted him up with ease, turning him and pulling him close to his chest. He sat down completely, scooting back and leaning against the wall for support. He smiled further and grabbed one of Donnie's hands gently, giving a small reassuring squeeze.
He squeezed back, continuing to sob harshly. He let out a few pained whines between gasps for air, his lungs and throat hurting from all of this heavy crying and were beginning to make his throat raw and sore. "R- Raph—" He choked out, clinging to the hand.
"Yeah, bud? Don't strain ya'self. . You're only gonna hurt worse if ya do." He reminded calmly, quietly, so the younger didn't feel (possibly even more) overstimulated or overwhelmed.

"'M- 'M scared—" He cried out, grip tightening despite the stinging protests of his hand. "'M tired- a- 'nd tired. . W- wanna sleep—" He admitted.
"I know. . It's scary, and I know you're tired. But I'm proud of ya for stayin' 'awake' this long. You're very strong bud. Couldn't be more proud of ya." He cooed, earning another sob escape the latter's lips.
"I- I don't— I don't wanna be- 'awake' 'nymore— It hurts. . ." He croaked, pressing his face into the snapper's plastron.
"I know. . I know. . . I get it hurts but ya gotta keep goin', we can help ya get better if ya do. Ya won't have to be in pain anymore, we can make ya feel less hurt."
He shook his head. "N- No— 'M just a burden— Don't deserve you- your pity—"
If his heart could physically break, it would have been shattered into thousands of not millions of pieces by now. He frowned, using the hand holding the softshell and rubbing his shoulder soothingly. His heart ached for the poor genius, mind racing as he realized just how much he'd been hiding for gods know how long. "You ain't a burden. . Ya never were. Never will be."
"Y- yes I am— Stop pitying m- me—" He bit back, sniffling right after. "'M dumb- dumb dumb dummy dumb- No good useless worthless piece of—"
"Hey- Hey no don't say that Dee. None of that is true, never was. Ya brain is just bein' mean to ya again. Tell me—if ya feel comfortable of course—what else is it makin' ya do—?"
The softshell went quiet, oh gods what did it make him do? Please tell me it ain't what I think it is please anythin' but that—
"H- hurt. ." He squeaked out, hiding his face in the crook of his arm.
"What-? What does that mean Dee—? Has it- Has it been makin' ya. . hurt ya'self—?" Oh gods it is isn't it—?

He just gave a small nod, burying his face deeper into his arm in attempts to hide from a possible scream.
"Oh. . Dee. . . So it wasn't just a mishap with a tool. . Was it—?" Yep, it was. .
He gave another small nod. "'M sorry. . 'M sorry Raph—" He murmured, muffled from under the protection of the arm.
"Bud. . Don't apologize, 'm sorry for lettin' that happen all this time. I shoulda' noticed sooner." He sighed softly, continuing to rub the younger's shoulder in attempts to soothe.
"Are you. . Mad—?" Came the scratchy, broken voice again. Oh gods it was gonna make his heart shatter into particles.
"No, Raph could never be mad at ya buddy, it ain't your fault. . Ya brain just ain't bein' nice to ya and ya had to deal with the pain of it all. . . I wish I coulda' been there to help—" He shifted his gaze to watch as the younger slowly shifted to turn his head towards him, mask tear-stained beyond repair. He gave a comforting smile, pulling the softshell closer as soon as he spotted a hesitant sign to do so from him. He allowed the other to shove his face into the crook of his neck, frail, skinny arms following after. He simply held him close and began to hum a comforting tune. His humming soon became soft singing.

"Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end. .
Sun digs its heels to taunt you.
But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same.
Rises the moon. . ."

The softshell hummed lightly, quietly beginning to hum a long to the melody.

"Days fade into a watercolour blur. .
Memories swim and haunt you.
But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke—
Rises the moon. . ."

He shifted slightly, adjusting to a more comfortable position and continuing to hum to the calming tune. His breathing had still been ragged and scared, likely from heightened nerves from everything going on and everything being slightly overwhelming.

"Oh-oh, close your weary eyes.
I promise you that soon the autumn comes,
To darken fading summer skies.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. . ." He cooed, noting the breathing patterns were still scarily uncanny to his normal breathing. He was likely still terrified out of his mind at the moment—understandable.

There were a few cracks in the humming, but none noticed, or if they did, they never mentioned it in favor of not embarrassing the softshell even more than he was going to be later.

"Days pull you down just like a sinking ship,
Floating is getting harder.
But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile—
Rises the moon. . . ."

There was a slight whine, the younger having shifted wrong and touched his wounds just after the already blistering pain had diminished and right before it started up again.

"Days pull you up just like a daffodil
Uprooted from its garden
They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so—
Rises the moon. . ." He only briefly paused his singing, cracking an eye open to peer down at the younger, concerned. Once he noticed nothing more was wrong, he continued.

"You'll be visited by sleep.
I promise you that soon the autumn comes,
To steal away each dream you keep.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. . . ."

The softshell's breathing had slowly regulated, a soft calmed sigh escaping his nose as he kept his face buried into the crook of Raph's neck, eyes sealed shut like corkscrews.
The latter smiled, giving him a small pat on the shell and wrapping his arms around him lightly. "Sleep bud, I know you're tired. But tomorrow'll be better, promise. Don't let ya brain be mean again, 'ts not true, whatever it's sayin'. Just remember that. Your family is here to help if ya ever need. ."

That seemed to be enough to prompt the younger to sleep, one last heavy weighted sigh escaping him before he went deadweight in the older's hold with a content murmur.

"Good job bud. . 'M proud. . ."