*Story Summary: Sometimes, sorry really is the hardest word.
*Note:This one-shot takes place after the episode ‘Slash and Destroy.’ It’s a companion piece to my works ‘Mikey’s Worst Move Ever’ and ‘Slash’s Revenge.’
*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
In the history of rotten days, this had to be one of the worst. Hamato Donatello breathed out a sullen sigh that no one could actually hear. Unlike him, the rest of his family was probably fast asleep by now, but he just could not seem to settle into a comfortable position. This was not for lack of trying. He had spent the lion’s share of the past hour shifting in his bed, vainly attempting to find peace, but alas, comfort was not meant to be. Maybe that’s because he had been beaten to a pulp not all that long ago.
Everythinghurt.
Whether he laid on his side, his front, or his back, the pain would radiate throughout his body. A harsh, relentless reminder of what had happened that night.
That awful, awful night.
Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Donatello wearily gazed out at the shadows enveloping his room. Something about the darkness sent a chill creeping up and down his spine.
It was so menacing.
So very sinister.
So eerily reminiscent.
A whimper threatened to escape the confines of his parched throat as a flood of memories came rushing back without mercy. Disturbing memories he’d just as soon forget…
*Story Summary: Sometimes, sorry really is the hardest word.
*Note:This one-shot takes place after the episode ‘Slash and Destroy.’ It’s a companion piece to my works ‘Mikey’s Worst Move Ever’ and ‘Slash’s Revenge.’
*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
In the history of rotten days, this had to be one of the worst. Hamato Donatello breathed out a sullen sigh that no one could actually hear. Unlike him, the rest of his family was probably fast asleep by now, but he just could not seem to settle into a comfortable position. This was not for lack of trying. He had spent the lion’s share of the past hour shifting in his bed, vainly attempting to find peace, but alas, comfort was not meant to be. Maybe that’s because he had been beaten to a pulp not all that long ago.
Everythinghurt.
Whether he laid on his side, his front, or his back, the pain would radiate throughout his body. A harsh, relentless reminder of what had happened that night.
That awful, awful night.
Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Donatello wearily gazed out at the shadows enveloping his room. Something about the darkness sent a chill creeping up and down his spine.
It was so menacing.
So very sinister.
So eerily reminiscent.
A whimper threatened to escape the confines of his parched throat as a flood of memories came rushing back without mercy. Disturbing memories he’d just as soon forget…
*Story Summary: Sometimes, sorry really is the hardest word.
*Note:This one-shot takes place after the episode ‘Slash and Destroy.’ It’s a companion piece to my works ‘Mikey’s Worst Move Ever’ and ‘Slash’s Revenge.’
*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
In the history of rotten days, this had to be one of the worst. Hamato Donatello breathed out a sullen sigh that no one could actually hear. Unlike him, the rest of his family was probably fast asleep by now, but he just could not seem to settle into a comfortable position. This was not for lack of trying. He had spent the lion’s share of the past hour shifting in his bed, vainly attempting to find peace, but alas, comfort was not meant to be. Maybe that’s because he had been beaten to a pulp not all that long ago.
Everythinghurt.
Whether he laid on his side, his front, or his back, the pain would radiate throughout his body. A harsh, relentless reminder of what had happened that night.
That awful, awful night.
Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Donatello wearily gazed out at the shadows enveloping his room. Something about the darkness sent a chill creeping up and down his spine.
It was so menacing.
So very sinister.
So eerily reminiscent.
A whimper threatened to escape the confines of his parched throat as a flood of memories came rushing back without mercy. Disturbing memories he’d just as soon forget…
