The chains dangled and clinked together in the small space. The groaning of the linked metal echoed against the cold damp walls as the man's weight shifted. He allowed himself to breathe in as deeply as his lungs would allow before peering up at his captors. They stood, staring at him. Neither creature moved. He could hear the swishing of the rat's tail underneath his robe. After a moment, it moved in close, whiskers nearly brushing against his sweating face.
"It need not be like this," Splinter stated. "Just tell us where it is, and this needless suffering can end."
Donatello stood behind the metal desk, silent and solemn. His father's words were open, yet authoritative. Still commanding respect despite the gentle implications. The man looked between them, his lips parted just enough for a string of saliva mixed with blood to trail downwards towards the floor. Donatello counted each creak of the chains. After twenty more, the man finally spoke. He cleared his throat, becoming Splinter closer.
His eyes were half lidded, his body slightly slumped as he struggled to keep weight on his toes as they danced for purchase against the stone floor. Splinter moved in closer, his ear twitching in anticipation. As soon as Splinter did however, the man spit on him, the nasty glob matting the fur near his eye. Splinter growled, reeling back as he whipped the mess onto the sleeve of his robe. His ears pinned back. His tail thumped against the ground.
Splinter turned sharply to Donatello, waving his hand at the turtle. Silently, Donatello flipped the switch, staring at the board in front of him as the electricity seized the man's body. After another moment, Donatello shut it off, looking back up to his father. As soon as the electricity faded, Splinter surged forward, grabbing the man by the jaw. He forced him to make eye contact, his growl of warning sending chills through everyone present.
"You are a fool to take advantage of my kindness!" Splinter hissed. He dropped his hand, swiveling around to return to his son's side. From behind him he could hear the man's laughter. Splinter looked over his shoulder, absentmindedly stroking his beard as he watched. The man swung back, seemingly unphased by the torture as he smiled.
"Stop kidding yourself, you washed up rodent. No one fears the Foot anymore, let alone you." Despite his injuries, the man continued to laugh to himself, shaking his head as he did so.
Donatello eyed his father, who's ear twitched in annoyance. Without another word, he motioned for Don to go again. He did so. This time Don could hear the man's voice hitch as the volts tore through his body. He wished one of them would give up. A moment longer than he intended passed, and Don hastily turned off the machine, cursing himself.
Splinter paced in front of the man. Don could see the gears in his mind starting to move, and knew a decision was being made. It was hard to predict his father's actions, but his next question provided enough insight.
"Donatello, what time is it now?"
Donatello glanced at his PDA, quickly noting that they were now at the five hour mark. "There's not much time left, father."
Splinter nodded, stroking his beard again. He turned back to the man, who was enjoying a moment of rest. "Set it higher." Splinter commanded, eyes still locked on their prisoner.
Donatello complied, turning the knob upwards before he switched it on. The man's eyes shot open as he writhed. The chains clinked together loudly, the buzz of electricity now audible. As soon as the current shut off, the man heaved in air. His shaggy black locks clung to his face, now red from the exertion.
"Again." Splinter commanded, refusing the man a moment of reprieve. Donatello pushed the button, trying not to listen to the gargled noise emanating from their prisoner's throat.
"Again." Splinter commanded. Again. Again. Again.
Finally Donatello froze. He stared at the man, his gaze was unfocused, his eyes bloodshot. He no longer attempted to hold himself up. When the electricity refused to appear, Splinter turned to his son. Donatello stared at him, unsure how to say what he felt.
"M-Maybe we should allow him a moment-"
"Allow?" Splinter spat. "Every moment of kindness we have shown has been spit back into our faces. If he will not appreciate what has been given to him, then he shall be stripped of it in order to see it's worth!"
Donatello clamped his mouth shut, recognizing the all-knowing tone. Don huffed, steeling himself. He dipped his head, knowing his place. His eyes, however, shot back up at his father's words.
"Higher."
Slowly, Donatello moved the dial up, deciding to time each interval carefully if his father was going to continue to teeter on this dangerous line. Splinter circled the man, allowing him to breathe after such a painful bout. Splinter's cane tapped against the stone as he walked, the eerie sound almost alienating the prisoner.
"Have you no sense of honor? These innocent people your so called gang has sought to hurt, they are merely children." Splinter tried to reason.
The man swallowed a few times, regaining his composure. "An' here I thought you'd understand, being a sewer rat, that life's not fair. Morals are for the privileged. It's as simple as that."
Splinter considered the man. For a moment Don thought he might let him free, but as quickly as that thought came, so did Splinter's cane. "Such utter lack of rights!" A bone cracked as the hardy wood made contact with the man's knee. "Comparing the two of us? Where compassion should be, you harbor nothing but greed and hostility!" Another thwack to the back, then to the ribs. Finally Splinter retreated from the man, his face a mixture of anger and disappointment. He shook his head, taking in a deep breath as he moved beside his son, yelling to him.
"Turn it on full."
Donatello flinched, taking a moment to lean down, his voice a whisper. "Father, please, he's had enough-"
"Donatello!" Splinter yelled so loudly that Donatello physically stepped back. Splinter's eyes were hard, determined. "I may be your father, but I am your master first. You will do as you're told!"
Donatello shut his mouth, ignoring the fluttering mix of emotions as he moved an unsure hand towards the knob. Every level the knob passed made the nausea inside him double. He turned back to his father, his eyes silently pleading with him to end this. He watched Splinter move towards the prisoner again.
"Stop this nonsense, there is still time for you to redeem yourself. Somewhere inside you there must be a part that knows what you're doing is wrong!"
The man craned his neck up, his lazy expression ensuring a reaction. "When are you going to get it through your pea-sized brain, old man, that I just don't give a shit."
From behind, Donatello watched as the muscles in his father's shoulders contracted. He couldn't see it, but he was sure his jaw was clenched as well. His patience was running out. He waved his hand again, signaling Donatello to begin the next wave of shocks.
"Master Splinter, I don't think anything will come from this, he's already all but proven that he won't-"
"Enough!" Splinter commanded, turning on his heel towards the turtle. "I did not ask for your wisdom Donatello, nor is it needed! Have you forgotten the children who were taken from their homes? What may come of them?"
"N-No." Donatello stuttered.
"Perhaps you need a reminder, of the lives they are destined to live because of this man and his conspirators?" Splinter sarcastically asked. "Would you like to let him go, give him a pat on the head, and give up on those children?"
"No!" Donatello replied angrily.
"Then you will do as I say!"
Donatello grit his teeth, pressing the button before his conscious could fight him any further. Splinter nodded, returning to his son's side. Quiet, yet cold, his words weighed heavy on Donatello's heart.
"I once found your kindness a virtue, my son. But there is no place for it here."
Donatello hardened himself as he watched the man grind his teeth together. His eyes rolled back, body flinching uncontrollably as he administered shock after shock. Donatello felt himself grow farther away from that cell during each moment of reprieve, allowing them both a moment before Splinter ordered him again.
And again.
And again.
"There you are." Leonardo greeted. He climbed up the rung, smiling as he came across his brother. Donatello sat at the edge of the rooftop, staring up into the expansive nothingness above. "Everyone's been wondering where you've been." Leo sat down beside his brother, taking in the look on Don's face. Don's eyes were heavy and hollow, his expression slightly confused. Leo placed a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder, his voice quiet as he noted the emotion.
"What's wrong?" He asked softly.
Don's brows furrowed further, causing him to blink a few times. He swallowed slowly, refusing to move his gaze from the black sky. His voice was but a whisper, hoarse and thick. Leo couldn't catch what he said, but the way his eyes start to glisten and tear up, he knows it's serious. Finally, the croaking becomes audible, and Leo's heart sinks.
"I-I killed him…" He whispered, his own voice surprised at what he said. "I-I killed him Leo, oh god, I've never…" Whatever words Don followed up with are lost in the tumbling hiccups. All Leo can do is crush him in a hug, rocking him as Don continues to blabber on incoherently into his shoulder, praying to keep the crushing weight of guilt far from him.