A small drabble poem in which my OC Maus and Don have a small moment. He learns she is afraid of the dark after inviting her on a tech run. I'm not shipping! *HANDS UP* I SWEAR! Though...*evil* That doesn' t mean I wouldn't WANT to...HEHEHE...

You invited me, with a small smile and a wave of your three-fingered hand, on a tech run

As you watched me sit silently, flipping through nature magazines, though not having much fun.

I was in my own world, and letting my mind wander,

Though I didn't let my face reveal my inward squander.

What is a tech run? Behold, my plight.

I pondered, though avoiding your hazel orbs of sight.

You invited me on a 'mission'

and I, with usual submission,

did the simple addition,

and figured, with no use of premonition,

that I'd rather go with you

because I've read them- how many times? About fifty-two.

All of them, all the pages, I read them- through and through.

The articles, the side comments- and I did the puzzles, too.

So, without much hesitation,

I returned the smile- a small reciprocation,

and left the soft couch, not expecting condemnation.

I walked with you, following you from behind

The intricate patterns on your shell filling my mind

Distracting me, along with other thoughts of the wonderful magazine creatures, still fresh- until it was too late.

It slammed into me, with overbearing, overwhelming weight.

I blinked, and- hark!

My eyes met nothing but a large wall of evil, impregnable, frightening dark.

It was expected yet not- at least not so alarmingly stark.

It swallowed things up, covered them, muffled them, blinded eyes and ate shadows, and left not a mark.

Like an omnipotent, slithering, savage black shark.

Cutting through my being, voiceless, though with a strange sharp-ish bark.

It took my voice, and made it a small and mute squeak so I could emit no remark,

As you strolled right ahead, adapted and at ease, like it was a walk in the park.

Completely oblivious, you adjusted your duffel bag and did not turn around,

'cept when you listened for the pitter patter of my small feet, you heard not a sound.

You froze, thinking you forgot me, or left me behind too quickly, your eyes wide and round.

As you turned, you saw a sight that would the mightiest astound.

You were used to the dark, used to it being all around.

So the sight you beheld, your brain it did confound.

You paused and took a step forward, confusion profound.

I saw you, and yet, to your hazel eyes and purple bandana, confused tilt of the head- I was blinded; it was all concealed

as my deep and penetrating fear, in this unexpected turn of events, was revealed.

I curled up on my side, my knees to my chest, my hands covering my eyes like a sort of trembling shield.

Heart pounding, lip trembling as I pressed myself to the floor, feeling tears at my eyes- though no weapon did you yield.

Eyes filled with worry at my cries, and grateful we weren't far from home, you kneeled down

Beside me, as I held myself together, falling to pieces, and turning away from your concerned frown.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, watching me drown.

"D-dark," I stuttered feebly, in a voice that was small and appearing to choked.

It echoed in the dreaded space, that word, and my fear was newly provoked.

My face, muzzle and cheeks, with my tears they were soaked.

My brain reeled helplessly and I shivered, paralyzed, though no help I did invoke.

You were stunned and rendered silent, and at once you understood, and felt empathy, though neither of us spoke.

A sadness took over your face, but then you smiled down at me, and I felt pain in my chest- this wasn't a joke.

"It's okay, it's okay. I understand...but it can't hurt you.." you said, your voice low and with the intention to soothe.

With the same green hand, my quills you did smooth.

Your statement, misunderstood, filled me with hurt.

I turned away again, my movements, jerky and curt.

and from fear to pained anger my face did convert.

Of course it can hurt me

I thought. Can't you see?

This horrible, terrible monstrosity?

That blinds and weakens, slows, and maims, this atrocity?

From this, this deep terror, I want to flee.

But it has taken my limbs, my dexterity.

Though if you speak that way- I will not take your charity.

Can't you see, it scares me, with deep, deep clarity?

Then why is it you wave it off and say such things as if my words were a parody?

Dark scars.

Dark wounds, and mars.

It brings death and sickness- a lot worse that catarrhs.

It can be seen when it blinds you, and when it fills your insides and swallows you, it can be felt.

From the empty void it creates, full of nothing, it can be heard, and with the fear it brings, it can be smelt.

Even from its empty hands, pain can be dealt.

With its harsh bite, you it will pelt.

It fills you with apprehension of what will come after,

'Tis the last thing you see when death is upon you, and it kills all laughter.

It leads to nothing but tragedy and disaster,

and only light can reign it in, its one true master.

And then, gentle, but firm, you scooped me up with an arm,

Which made me jump and refreshed tears, causing me great alarm.

And with your reassuring, erudite voice you said that you meant no harm.

As you carried me back and comforted me, the cold stone within me grew warm.

The fear was washed away

By your kind words, as you ended with: "I'll bring a flashlight just for you next time. Perhaps another day."

That statement, simple yet moving, made my fear sway.

To comfort me? You went out of your way?

Instead of leaving me there, lying in disarray?

A bit surprised and drained from the misadventure, i merely muttered one word, a tiny "Okay."

Inwardly sorry that I had lead you and your mission astray.

I wished I could apologize, but my throat seemed to be filled with hay.

You ignored the questioning stares, so my nerves wouldn't further fray

and to my room you took me, making a bee line, a ray.

In my bed you laid me down, shrugging. "Mmm...It's getting late anyway."

You were saying that to make me feel better, so I'd feel like I wouldn't have to pay.

Though I felt it very deeply, my gratitude I did not convey.

Instead I peeked at you from under the covers, eyes bleary from crying, a watery bluish gray.

Wishing that even though I was about to slip into sleep, you- or anyone- would stay.

And you, the kind, intelligent Donatello,

looked up at the lightbulb despite your own sudden tiredness, embracing the light-yellow.

And you smiled at me, a smile so mellow

And leaned on the wall as if it were a comfy marshmallow.

Saying with your body language the words you couldn't say, whisper, or bellow.

You stayed and watched over me reassuringly and watched me slip away, satisfied even if I wasn't happy as a lark.

Sliding slowly off the wall, as if not wanting to leave a mark,

You silently used your ninja skills to exit the room without waking my sleeping form, no more journeys on which to embark

To sleep in your room with the hum of the monitor and the mattress, a valiant patriarch.

But you left my light on- so it wouldn't be dark.

I do not own TMNT. hope you like it! reviews are SOOOO appreciated!