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Perseverance	By : EvaBrick Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 9920 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
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I'm not making any money off this, nor do I own the Ninja Turtles - I'm just borrowing them for a while.
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Donatello turned his back on the door and strode through the living room into the tiny kitchen. Where was Charlie? He knew she was bleeding, but he hoped it was just a superficial wound and not something more serious. She was still sitting on the floor, peering at him over the top of the table. Her neat bun was a mess and a trickle of blood was sliding down her face from a cut above her eyebrow. The right side of her face was swollen from her temple up into her hairline and out into her forehead. Her bottom lip was swollen, but it hadn’t actually split. Her feet were pink from where she’d spilled her coffee. His heart nearly broke when he saw the damage.

He stepped toward her, reaching a hand out to help her up. She quickly pushed herself away until her back hit against the cupboards. Don was taken aback. Why wouldn’t she let him touch her?

Charlie didn’t know how to feel. Her head was throbbing. Donatello had just effortlessly thrown her father across the room and that scared her. She had never seen him angry before, and angry Donnie was a terrifying sight. Donatello towered above her father, and clearly wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him. What if he ever got mad at her? She was so tired of being hurt and alone. She felt her blood running off her face and dripping down into her sweater. She felt lost.

Donnie squatted down, not coming any closer, his face softened. She wasn’t crying, which meant she was used to this. “That fucker’s slapped her around before,” he thought. A terrible thought hit him. “Charlie, you don’t think I’d ever hurt you, do you?

Tears welled in her eyes. She was so confused.

Donnie held his arms out to her. “I’m not your dad” he said quietly. Charlie burst into tears and reached her arms out hug him. Don picked her up and sat her in his lap and sat down on the floor. He reached up on to the counter and grabbed a dishcloth which he balled up and pressed against her cut to stop the bleeding. His other hand rubbed up and down her back and she settled in against him. His hand drifted up and he pulled the pins out of her hair, letting in spill down onto her back. She smelled good. He stroked it gently and she gradually stopped crying and was nearly asleep when Donatello picked her up and carried her to bed.

Charlie woke up the next morning with the worst headache she’d ever had in her life. She lifted her hand up to her head and found that there was a small bandage over the cut. The swollen, bruised skin stung when she touched it. Her hand flopped back down. Donatello must have patched her up before he left.

Charlie snuggled down into the blankets. The bed was so warm this morning... She slid a hand up to adjust her pillow. Her fingers touched something warm and hard. What was it? Still drunk with sleep, she slid her hand along until something closed gently around her fingers. It was another hand - one with three fingers. Her eyes snapped open and she rolled over, wincing as her face, rubbed against the sheets.

“Hi,” Donatello said, smiling at her. Charlie was snuggled into his warm body - her ‘pillow’ was his arm. “How’s your head?” he asked tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Hurts... a lot...” she mumbled.

“I’ll get you some more painkillers.” Don gently slid his arm out from under her and went to the kitchen. Charlie smiled. Had he been here all night? Don came back wish a glass of water and a couple of pills. He helped her sit up to swallow them. She lay back down and he tucked the blankets around her before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Aren’t you getting back in?” she asked. Don’s insides tightened. He held her eyes with an intense gaze.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.” Don stood up and lifted the blankets. Cold air hit her skin and she realized she was in her underwear. Then he was pressed up against her back, and his arm slid once again under her head. He pressed a ghost of a kiss to her bare shoulder before resting his head on the pillow.

“I feel kinda nauseated.”

“That from the blows to your head. Think you’re gonna heave?” Charlie thought about it for a moment.

“Not sure... don’t think so.”

Donatello’s hand came up and rested against the curve of her hip, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her skin as he’d done in she shower the night before. “Sleep it off,” he said. “Try not to move around too much - just relax.”

“I can’t stay here. He’ll be back” Charlie said, suddenly afraid. Donatello lifted his head up and kissed her shoulder a bit more firmly.

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t leave you, I promise.” He kissed her shoulder again.

“I’m sorry, Donnie,” she whispered.

“About what?” he asked, feathering gentle kisses around her shoulder and the top of her arm. He kissed a light trail up her neck and behind her ear, buried his nose in her hair, and sighed contentedly.

“About everything. About crying too much, about you having to show yourself to my dad, about you feeling obligated to stay and take care of me...”

Don chuckled softly, kissing along her hairline. He put his arm around her and put his head back on the pillow. “I know you’re tough, Charlie, but you can’t do everything alone. Just stop worrying and let me take care of you, ok? Please?”

She wiggled a bit in his arms. “Ok.” A few minutes passed and Donatello’s breathing became slow and even. “Donnie?” she whispered.

“MmHmm.”

“How bad does my face look?” Charlie bit her lip, hoping it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was.

“Looks good. Swelling’s gone down a lot since last night. We’ll put some ice on it later.”

Charlie rolled over and put her head on his shoulder. Donatello pulled her in close and his hand rubbed slowly over her back. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep.
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