Album of Memories||TMNT Oneshots||

Humiliation

Summary: Donnie comes home after a night out, and his family isn't happy about his appearance. (2012 Turtles)
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     The sewers were cold, an uncomfortable draft wading in the air, creating a stuffy environment. The only sound echoing through the abandoned subway tunnel, the slowly repeating drip that cake from a busted pipe. The water trickled slowly, making the calm, quiets environment a little less still. Except for the occasional rat scurrying around, the water was the only noise. The lair was dark, no lights on whatsoever to help aid the staggering ninja turtle towards the showering room. No light to guide him through his journey towards cleanliness. Nothing to help wash away the overpowering humiliation he felt at that moment. The genius never thought he could feel this way, due to the fact that he usually bottled away his emotions in fear of embarrassment. However Donatello felt such a great humiliation, that he felt dead inside and out.

   It was just supposed to be a relaxing walk through the city. There wasn't supposed to be a fight, and people weren't supposed to get hurt. Well... the only one who got really hurt was Donnie himself. Hurt both mentally and physically.

    His eyes were downcast as he walked, they glowed slightly in the darkness, an ominous red glow. He hated his eyes. They were red, and seen as evil, but he wasn't evil. Not in the slightest. In fact, he wouldn't hurt a fly, no matter how troublesome.

   'Just keep walking. You're almost there, and you can take a shower and act like nothing  very happened...'

   "Donnie?"

   'Sewer Apples!'

   "H-hey Mikey." Donnie's voice was low, and cracked slightly during his sentence. Michelangelo could see the tears that brimmed his older brother's red eyes.

   "Donnie... dude are you ok?" The youngest turtles voice was serious for a moment, worried as well. For the first time, he didn't plan on cracking a joke or laughing. His best friend was hurt, yet he didn't know to what extent.

   "I'm fine, Mikey. I'm just going to take a shower and go to bed."

    "No Don, let me see. What happened? Hold on let me turn on the light-"

    "No! Don't! Don't, ummm, don't turn on the light. I'm fine, really. Go back to sleep."

   The jokesters face contorted into a pout as he stared into his brother's eyes, however the glare softened slightly. Mike could see the hurt in Donatello's eyes, he was in pain and the Orange-clad could tell his brother was suffering. It was one of those rare times where you could actually see how the genius was feeling. Whatever had happened broke down the barrier that Donnie had contracted to keep his feelings hidden. And something like this rarely ever happened.

   So Mikey flipped the switch, and finally realized why his brother got so worked up.

   The contusions that littered the genius' body were a gross purplish-black, the same color of his now torn mask. The most noticeable on his head, more specifically, his right temple. But the bruises and cuts weren't what got the youngest terrapin's attention. It was the paint. Graffiti to be more precise. Whoever had done this to his brother, had thought it was a brilliant idea to spray paint ungodly words on his brother's plastron and carapace. Not to mention the spider-web like crack on his brother's back.

   "What-what did they do to you, D!?" The baby-blue eyes turtle felt his eyes brim with tears that threatened to spill as he stared at his brother. Who now looked like a brick wall rather than a turtle. The intellectual terrapin was trying his best to hold back sobs as he slammed his eyes shut and whimpered slightly.