#ouches

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” you muttered, staring down at your plastered guardian, lying comfortably in their recliner with old reruns playing softly on the television beside you.

“Guess you are TOO hammered to come to my match tonight,” you continued to mumble quietly to yourself, dropping your duffle bag to the ground and grabbing the remote from the coffee table, clicking the TV off. “No, it’s FINE. It’s not like I want you a part of my life or nothin’.”

Your eyes glared daggers at them, resentment having been building up for years. You wished that they would act like the guardian they claim to be, to have some parental role in your life, but you weren’t destined to have that, were you?

After cleaning up some of the stray beer cans and cigarette butts, you grabbed your duffle bag and walked back to the front door to your run-down apartment. You thought about announcing your whereabouts, but that would only be a waste of breath.

It wasn’t a hard decision on where you would end up, having already decided on hearing down to the lair to see your boyfriend and his brothers. You had a lot on your mind and figured that Donatello might be able to distract you with some science experiment or new tech thing he may be working on.

It was still afternoon, so you figured that the guys wouldn’t be on patrol just yet, and had your suspicions confirmed whenever you entered the lair after a 15 minute walk and saw Leonardo and Raphael sparring.

The two brothers hadn’t noticed you, or if they did they were too in tune with their match to speak, so you left them alone to finish their spar and would say your ‘hello’s’ later in the evening. You couldn’t pinpoint Michaelangelo, and honestly couldn’t think about the possibility of his whereabouts at any given time other than with pizza or comic books. That left one terrapin, who was sitting in front of the Shell-Raiser, presumably doing repairs to the outer shell.

“Hey,” you stated, setting your bag down and walking up next to the turtle.

“Hey, love,” Donatello replied, giving you a brief look before returning to the garbage truck. “What are you up to?” He asked, marking points on the shell for future screws.

“Um, just coming over here before my match tonight,” You replied, taking a seat next to the turtle and grabbing the tools that laid in your now seating spot. “Are you going to be there?”

“I’m not sure,” Donatello replied, taking a step back to turn his attention to you. “It’s just that I have this to finish up and-,”

You cut the terrapin off, “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ll have-,” you stated before being cut off by the sound of Donnie’s T-Phone going off. You furrowed your eyebrows as he answered, watching him talk to -who you could come to the conclusion of being- April.

“Oh, yeah, I’m on my way,” He said as he hung up, standing from his spot. You followed suit, your extremities starting to feel the sense of a familiar, anxiety-related jitteriness that you often experienced.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Vern’s camera is doing some weird, glitchy thing from what April said, she needs me to fix it so that she can do her report,” Donatello responded, gathering his supplies.

You felt your heart drop.

“Yeah, they also work for Channel 6 News, who can get them a new camera,” you retorted, but he didn’t stop in his tracks. “Did they even try calling their boss?”

“No, I guess not, but I need to go.”

You reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, finally getting the turtle to stop and look at you.

“What’s wrong?” Donatello asked, a sigh escaping his lips afterwards.

You widened your eyes, “You can’t be serious,” you stated, but the terrapin looked impatient. “You just told me that you couldn’t come to my match tonight because you had things to do but the moment April calls, you suddenly have the time to run to her aid?”

“This is for her job,” Donatello stated, your name flowing off his tongue afterwards like unsatisfying candy.

“A job that can provide her and her cameraman with another camera. Is that seriously more important than watching your own partner’s last match of the season?”

“You just said there would more-,”

“Yeah- practice matches! That’s not even the issue here,” You asked, your grip tightening on his wrist.

Donatello pulled his arm away from your grip, “April is already walking on a thin rope, she can’t lose her job again. I’m sorry, I really need to help a friend out,” He spoke softly before leaving the lair.

You stood there in his lab for what felt like hours, stunned at how the turtle just left you. A tear slipped down your face before you quickly wiped it away, walking back over to your bag, grabbing it, and swiftly exiting the lair without saying goodbye.

——

April had brought the camera to the rooftop to protect the terrapin’s identity. Blissfully unaware of the precious events that had occurred between you and the turtle, she asked about the two of you and how you were doing.

“Well,” Don started to explain as he pulled the camera apart, pulling away to click his headlamp as the sun began to set behind the two. “They are probably mad at me now.”

“Why?” April asked, leaning against the side of the ledge with her arms crossed, awaiting his explanation. The turtle told the female what had gone down between the two of you, and April furrowed her eyebrows.

“Donatello! No sir! You can’t treat your partner like that! They should always come first to you and vice versa. Vern could have easily called and got another camera.”

Donatello gulped, remembering the exact same words that you had already said about the situation. He really treated you like shit.

“You need to apologize and make it up to them immediately, that is unacceptable,” April scolded, walking over and taking the camera pieces back from the turtle. “Don’t lose the good thing you have because you think other things are more important. Nothing should be more important than them. Now go, buh bye!” She stated before waving him off.

——

You were early arriving at the boxing gym. You thought for a moment that you were the only person there until a familiar face turned the corner from the locker rooms. You started to head for the other set of locker rooms before the person caught your full attention.

“You good?” Eric asked, stopping to look at you. You paused, gazing at him and nodding in response, barely catching what he had asked.

“Yea-Yeah, I’m good. Ready for tonight?” You asked, him nodding in response.

“Yeah. Too bad we don’t get to fight each other anymore this season. You’re one of the best,” Eric winked.

You smiled. “Thanks, I practice hard for it.”

You felt the air become tense and awkward between the two of you. When had he gotten so close? You were about to step away from the male and excuse yourself to the locker room before he glared at you, aggressively pressing you against the concrete wall and pressing his lips to yours.

You felt your fight or fight kick in, immediately pushing the male away from you. “Back off! There’s not a chance in hell that you would have a shot!” You exclaimed, shocked.

Eric furrowed his eyebrows before lunging at you, “Then I guess I’ll just make you,” he muttered.

You thrusted against him, maneuvering yourself so that you could knee yourself to freedom. Eric feel the floor, wincing and groaning in pain as you quickly moved away and into the locker room, locking the door behind you until it was closer to match time.

You were shaking as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins, sliding down the back of the door and tucking your head between your legs in order to calm yourself down. You couldn’t believe what just happened, or what had almost happened, what would have happened had you not been strong enough to get away on your own.

And unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had witnessed the entire event through a glass window engraved into the roof of the building, and he was sick.

——

You stood there, looking out at the crowd as sweat beads trickled down your forehead before dripping off of your eyelashes. Your arm being held up by the referee as your name is announced to the audience as the winner for the 10th time this season. You had won every single match and had had a happy coach to show for it.

But something about the current situation made your stomach turn, you hadn’t felt this way at any of your previous matches. Andy before you could put your finger on what it was, you felt your hands being dropped and the silhouette of a male sliding in underneath the ropes of the ring. You didn’t have enough time to react before his fist collided with your nose, sending you backwards and onto the mat.

You could hear the uproar around you from the crowd, some believing that this was a skit like WWE, some concerned for your wellbeing, and other comments, but you had to focus on the male that was walking towards you and Ray to finish you off.

You were too focused on protecting yourself to catch his identity at the moment, as he went to take another swing, you raised your left arm to cover your face and used your right arm to attack. You overcorrected, sending the back of the bent wrist into the cheekbone of whoever stood above you. With your force, you caused them to stumble backwards, giving you time to stand up and defend yourself, correcting yourself with your next move, an uppercut, that sent your attacker to the floor. You backed away like you finally heard your coach yelling at you to do, and noticed that Eric was the one who attacked you.

You thought about continuing the fight, but stepped out of the rink before you could act on your instincts. You immediately started to walk to the locker room, glancing into the mirror to notice your nose was bleeding.

“Mother fucker,” you muttered, changing into your old clothes and having a handful of tissues, wiping your nose and sneaking out of the back door to the building to head home. You needed to get home before something else happened to you.

——

Once you got home, you tried to head for you room immediately, until you heard your name being called from the living room. You held the napkin to your nose and peeked into the room to your guardian half awake and drunkenly looking for you.

“What?”

“Go grab me a beer.”

“Get it yourself,” You mumbled.

“What?” They asked, raising their voice.

You dropped your bag before looking at them. “Go get it yourself, you lazy piece of shit!”

“The fuck you just say,” they exclaimed, standing up and walking over to you and standing over you.

“I didn’t stutter,” You mouthed.

You felt a sudden sting on your cheek. “You got real nerve actin’ Like that! I work hard to keep us here!”

“Oh yeah, you’re late on rent, maybe chill on the alcohol addiction and try keeping a suitable living place for your kid,” you stated.

“You mind your own got damn business, you little shit!”

“Then act like I’m your business! You have a problem,” You stated before turning and going to your room.