Disclaimer - Don't own them, never will, this is my first response to the below quote, the fluffy one!
Blood Drop
"There are worst things you can do to the people you love than kill them. No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close." - Chuck Palahniuk
"It was an accident Don!"
Minutes earlier Raph had returned home with the battered remains of a once fine machine. The Sewer Slider, hours of blood, sweat and tears had been poured into making the device hover at precisely 5.6cm above the ground, and Raphael had brought it back a tattered remain of its former self.
To say that Don had been displeased was a mild understatement, to say that he provided a brief moment of entertainment to his bemused siblings by chasing the resident rebel down with a sledge hammer was pretty much hitting the proverbial nail on the head. To say he made them laugh a loud by misplacing one foot and falling head over tush was an accurate state of affairs.
"This," Donnie turned round and waved his injured hand in his brother's face, "was an accident. That, out there, with the Sewer Slider? That was murder!"
Gesticulating the young turtle made his way towards his first aid kit, allowing for his wound to weep openly wherever it so pleased. The gash lay between his thumb and index finger negating any possibility of putting the slider back together again in time for the spring weather.
"Jeez DON!" Despite the more than obvious hint of a sledgehammer being wielded at his head Raph followed his brother back into the work station. "Wanna clear up your oil slicks?!" Looking at the small puddle of dark liquid he had stepped in a disgusted look crossed his features.
"It's not oil Raph." Not paying him much attention, Donnie got to work digging out some bandages and salve.
"Then what the Shell is it?"
"Its blood."
"B-blood. As in …" the color drained clean out of Raphie's face, "yours?" The boy could see it now, the blood forming a perfect tear shaped droplet right before it dripped off Don's hand and splashed onto the floor, in the base of his gut he felt his lunch turn.
"Who else could it belong to?" Rummaging successful, Donnie started to wrap his hand. "Raphael …." Turning, Donnie made his way around his work station, pressing the bandage to his hand, "Have you …"
No, it couldn't be,
"fainted?"
