Oil
Shit, he was losing oil.
Swearing darkly, he grabbed a pan to contain the precious liquid. He was far too scared to lose a single drop, that shit was far too expensive for that.
He fumbled, tools scattering everywhere as he selected his next plan of action. He had to stop the leak, and find a way to get that damn oil back into the machine.
Sweat beaded on his brow and he swiped it away with an angry swish, cursing himself for even that minute break in his concentration. He had to fucking fix it! Had to fix it, with hands that are too big and tools that are too small, with the battle raging all around him, with his brothers out there somewhere, doing something. He tried to calm himself, but it didn't matter. He felt far too out of his league, and his sanity slipped further away towards the cliff as he poked and prodded and once; Kami, he'll never forgive himself, used his fists.
He wiped his hands on his bandana; it didn't leave a stain. He didn't even look at it, as he used that piece of thread to wrap around the leak and pull it tight, praying to shell it would hold. Hold it at least until he could get back to the lair, and fix what was broken.
Remembering everything Donnie had taught him, he threw the machine over his shoulder and prayed the oil didn't drip. It held fast and he almost collapsed in relief.
Now he had to find his brothers.
As he raced towards the lair with his brothers in toe, he didn't stop to wonder anymore why Donnie taught him that people were machines, the oil, their blood. He was only fucking thankful that he did, because now he understood it so well.
Because now it just might help save his precious brainiack brother's life.
A/N: Gift fic for Simone Robinson! I'm setting myself a little challenge, if you want to be a part of it, go to the Stealthy Stories 2 website. Please don't PM here, please don't spam me in the reviews. Run ... don't walk to the website, and ask me there! I need new ideas to stretch this frail, old brain!