No Use |TMNT

Chapter 6

Taking a deep breath, the leader in blue paced his way to the laboratory. An uneasy feeling twisted his stomach into knots, hitched with uncertainty.

As he pursed his lips, he withdrew a breath of sewer scented air, preparing for the worst to come. A three-fingered hand was set on the doors distinct handles. Slowly, he opened the doors to his brother's laboratory, ill prepared for the worst. The heavy metallic ring of steel skimming concrete stung the atmosphere harshly and forced the leader to cringe at the noise.

As soon as he entered the laboratory, the first thing that met him was the gross, scent of mortified blood, twisting his gut raw and nauseated. A fire set hold within his stomach, tantalized with his throat, begged him to gag. In a struggling gulp, he forced the vile temptation away.

Quietly, he turned his attention to his pale brother: his dead-looking brother. He acted as if any sudden movement would cause the fragile hearth of his nursing to shatter. He took a few steps towards him, his eyes closely examining the body of his sibling left frail and weak. Half of his right arm was wrapped in a condense gauze that intertwined around his skin. His eyes were closed so peacefully, so eased, they were anguished to no feeling.

Master Splinter stood mending his left side with delicate shifts of his hand, carefully moved from one wound to the next. On the gashes, he nursed were coated glades of crimson that tinted his wounds, noting that an infection had settled in vain.

"How is he?" Leo asked, almost darkly. The eldest barely saw Donatello's chest heaved upwards― he ever so slightly heard his struggled breathing. His weakened lungs could hardly support the supply of air that seeped into his system at each breath.

Mikey was right, he looked terrible. He was beaten, that was for sure, and what matter was worse was that he had endured days of captivity under the Foot Clan. He was probably abused, beaten, starved to malnourishment despite the Shredder's coldness until he was released into the open streets.

The damaged state of his body could only indicate signs of Shredder's work. His head was punctured with three wounds of a signature gauntlet, gruesomely, as if Shredder hadn't done enough to make his brother suffer, as if ending his misery then was too merciful of an act.

To Leonardo's relief, his brother was alive; but that didn't make the condition better. Somehow, it only made him feel worse. His azure eyes turned away, casting to his hotheaded brother in hopes that he was doing better than he was. He wasn't doing well either.

In fact, he was worse. With his emerald green eyes holding an uneasy cringe, he held his body stiff as if any wrong move would cause him to collapse. His face was masked with an expression that tried holding in tears that drew up from the corners of his eyes. His posture slumped grudgingly as all he could do was hold a gaze at his sensei in hopes that his care would bring any silver lining.

For the first time, he was weak- nauseated at the bitter scent of metallic blood. In his hands was the bottle of alcohol that they would use to prevent any other infection from entering the wound. The distasteful scent danced horridly with the metallic musing of blood that came off his brother – his very hands. The sickly odor only made him queasy.

I never thought I would see Raph like this…

The leader's eyes traveled to his Master. He withdrew a breath. "How is he?" He asked, more firmly making his father turn to look at him, wise magnolia eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Donatello was critically injured from the Shredder." Splinter told the obvious, concealing the truth as his eyes turned back to his task, wrapping his son's shoulder securely.

"I-I know that, but… is he going to live?" Leonardo swallowed a lump in his throat, seeing the weariness on his father's eyes, his expression laced with concern.