Of Men and Mutants (Rottmnt Donnie x reader🍋)

Pt 38

"Pull up, it's a anthem, put ya fuckin' hands up, smilin' 'cause I'm young, rich, gay, and I'm handsome-" You quickly turn off the song, trying not to laugh. You had also taken off your old gloves before the fight and were still yet to put them back on.

"I really fucked up... what the hell's wrong with me?..." You ask yourself as you stare at the blood from your knuckles on your hands and the glowing golden cracks that started at your fingertips. You stared blankly, emotionless tears welling up in your eyes as you hear someone approaching. Without a second thought, you jump up and turn, choke-slamming whoever was trying to sneak up on you. You see Donatello, backing away in fear that you'd just hurt him for no reason... not that you care.

"W-what are you sneaking up behind me for?!" You shout, stuttering as you turned and wiped the tears before they could fall. The purple clad boy stood and stared at you as he rubbed his shoulder.

"More unambiguous inquiry; Why're you crying- and why're you bleeding?" He asked, causing you to shake your head and look at him, realizing that the blood was now on your cheek.

"That was two questions."

"Just answer."

"You didn't answer me..."

"... I was trying to look for you because you haven't answered any calls or texts and... uh... Montana told me that she was worried..." He said, obviously lying. Montana hasn't texted you more than once. If she were really concerned, she'd have texted and called you at least four or five times.

"Right..." You responded while trailing off and looking out to the horizon. You sat down, not resisting the tears now, but still holding no expression.

"So, you are crying... Why? Not that I'd care to make you feel better, but still." He chimed, closing his eyes as he sat next to you.

"Everything... keeps changing... I don't like it. I've never liked change, and now, even I'm changing... It feels awful... Everything feels awful, even hearing my name. My nicknames. Everything is overwhelming and different now..." You admit, looking down.

"I understand... When I was really little- er... Let's see... My dad refers to me and my brothers by bandanna color. Leon is "Blue", Michael is "Orange", Raph is "Red", and I'm "Purple"..." He said, slightly smiling. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What does that have to do with-... What do you mean?" You ask, sighing.

"Well, look at your names. Y/n; a genius daughter who's talent goes unrecognized and unrewarded . Yin; a fighter who is in over her head. Anything poultry related; a crazy, keep-to-yourself sister. And when you're referred to as anything like "bestie"; a best friend who's trying to protect everyone... It's a weight, right?" He asked, earning a nod from you. You feel your heart beat regulating as you sniffle, following his words.

"Well I felt that... and my papa had a talk with me when I was around the age of seven and a half. He asked me if I was okay... I lied at first, demanding that he told me why he was talking to me alone. He ended up telling me that he knew why I was having trouble... At first, he called us by number. Raph; "One". Leon; "Two". Michael; "Four". I was "Three"... the child who he saw becoming too smart for my own good. I was also Donatello, a smartass brother. And Donnie, a super smart, problem solver." He said, looking out to the sky.

"And... why are you telling me this?..." You asked, not understanding his story yet.

"I enjoyed being the smart one. But, those titles made me feel like... "The smart one" was all I would be... To be entirely honest, it scared the shit out of me... I didn't just want to be smart, but I didn't want to be nothing... So he proposed something. If he called us all by color, we'd no longer be just the strong eldest, the perfectly humorous second born, the genius third born, or the constantly creative last child... I'd no longer have that weight... I'd just be me... just a brother and a son, nothing more, nothing less... Just... Purple." As he spoke, he looked towards you.

"You don't need the weight of being everything to everyone else... especially with me... Why not let me help you with something similar? Let's say, your main color... How about it, Yellow?" Donatello asked, causing you to look at him with tears. You nodded before gathering the courage to speak again.

"What do I do about everything changing? It's not gonna stop, is it?... It's gonna keep hurting, isn't it?" You asked as he patted his own lap, thinking as he swung his legs.

"Well... Change is hard, but it's something that some people need to get used to, you know? That's hard to say because I hate change too, but sometimes you need to embrace it and act like it's not a big deal. It's how I get used to adding new changes to my life, like new tech."

"But, that's a good change..."

"I don't think this is a bad change." He said, subconsciously reaching out and gently running his fingers through your now short hair. You slightly nuzzled into his touch, watching his face start to deepen in color.

"This isn't about hair..." You think to yourself, feeling tempted to tell him that you're leaving soon. You have his phone number and you guys don't really fight as much, but somehow it still wouldn't be the same over text.

He seems to realize that he's gently brushing his fingers through your hair, pulling his hand back. He frantically waved his hands, emphasizing his embarrassment towards his actions.

"Uh- I-I'm sorry. It was weird to touch your hair like that, I should have asked first. A-and I shouldn't have assumed you'd be fine with the nickname. Mikey told me to respect other people's boundaries! Ugh, that was stupid of me. I really didn't mean to-" Donatello paused as he looked at your face, seeing you start to smile. "-... What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing, I just... hmm..." You pause, sighing as you looked into his eyes, maintaining your mutual uncharacteristic eye contact. You sit up a bit more, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Thanks... Purple."

(Word count: 1074)