#wanted to post this last night but tumblr hasnt been behaving on desktop

[bootyyyyshaker900]

Donatello ==> Risk it.

You stop in your stilted pacing, hands tapping asynchronously on your head and the shoulders of your battle-shell. You’ve had a soak already, buried yourself under the pressure of pounds of water, but it hadn’t eased the pressure in your head, or the unwelcome presence in your lab.

You sign to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to come to you.

Not Michael - you hate when he stumbles upon you like this. You want to be impressive and put together for him, and though you embrace his recommendations regarding your emotional health, you wouldn't go to him in a downswing. ‘Nardo is a tempting respite, but he shoots you a cheshire grin and a sadistic quip from the chair he's sitting in and you reconsider, chuckling. He hasn't been particularly helpful tonight. Pops, maybe? No doubt he'd be available in his armchair in the living room parked in front of the TV, one of his infomercial channels running while he either slept through it or paid rapturous attention.

No. His channels are too much, too loud, and you don't want to watch his shadow loom into something cruel. That leaves one occupant, and you clutch the handle on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.'s back while he leads you down the hall, not trusting your own awareness of your home's layout as you’d tripped and walked into enough things in the lab already.

Father speaks to you, blocking your way, and you have to clench your eyes while trusting your guide to not walk you into any walls despite your lack of coordination. You feel a pressure on your back and you yelp, only to find S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. pushing you forward. You had let go of him to grasp at your mask and cover your cutaneous plate at some point. Your legs ache to carry you back to the lab, back to the devil you know, and your stomach twists in dread, but you're nudged again and your feet stomp forwards.

"Hey, Donnie! Can't sleep?"

You look up at your oldest brother with a wild grin and catch a whiff of his nerve-stink before you speak.

"I would like a hug."

His beak twists into a :o shape and he opens his large arms, which you fall into with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.'s motors buzzing nearby. His rough scales scratch at your softer flesh, and you can hear his tail swishing happily on the floor.

"Tight. Tighter."

His arms clench, and the mass of metal attached to you digs into your shell, the uncomfortable sensation grounding you. You flex your fingers. You tap your foot. You breathe. Father speaks to you but he isn’t there, if he was there you would have heard him come in, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. would have told you unless he did already and you forgot but Raph would say something, you know that he isn't and though you miss him you can out-think your own mind(You mumble to him to be quiet all the same). There’s a iron-clad hand grasping the top edge of your shell, but Raph is pressing the titanium shell into your back, overlapping the sensation.

“You’re okay, Don.”

You nod, but don’t move away.