Donnie was worried. You seemed out of it when you had come to visit the lair. Your eyes were dull, apathetic. You seemed tired and sad even if you tried so hard to smile for him. He asked if you were alright but you kept saying you were fine. He let it go, thinking you would tell him what's wrong later. You kept quiet the whole time, never said a thing. He sees you but he doesn't. You were physically there but you weren't there yourself.

He noticed the look of distress before when you made sarcastic remarks. He didn't think there was anything deeper. No one did.

You always had something sarcastic to say and the turtle loved that about you. You were never afraid to say what you had in mind. He could barely tell if you were being serious or sarcastic and it was a fun challenge for him to figure out if you were. Times when he was helping you with homework? You joked about going to fail in life and he answered it with a sarcastic remark. You try to understand what he's rambling about but you can't seem to get it no matter how many questions you asked? You sarcastically responded about being an idiot, or at least he thought you were.

He thinks about your actions and responses further. You did, in fact, seem tired all the time. But you said it was just you having a hard time to sleep. You sometimes don't even visit for a few days but you answered that you were only busy with school work. How many times has he asked if you were okay? You always said you were fine and that you just had a lot going through your head. He noticed you seemed to be more reckless than before and it worries him. And just today, you seemed just have...given up. Like nothing mattered anymore.

You were his best friend. You guys are supposed to trust each other with anything. He told you things that no one knows and you did too. And yet, you were hiding something. He didn't know what but he was going to find out.

He left the lair without telling his brothers where he was going and quickly flew to your apartment. Whatever was going on with you, he wants to help.

You sat on the floor with the small blade held lightly between your fingers. A razor blade you know will ultimately kill you if you did it right. The whispers and sayings from the past and in your head swarmed you mind, buzzing so loudly you could barely think! You've been called so many things and have been given looks in ways that show that the world never wanted you. Then why were you here if no wanted to see or talk to you? Why had you stuck around? Were you hoping that someone, anyone cared to see you? No one seemed to care.

Each word buzzed like wasps and it stung you multiple times. There was a reason why you avoided the silence, there was a reason why you kept trying to anything else than thinking. Because when you think, you feel regret, guilt, anger, and every negative emotion that you couldn't possibly describe, you grew numb to it all. You didn't know what you did but most days, you didn't know if you were truly happy. You have a best friend for goodness sake! You tell him things and he never judged you for them. You trusted him to be by your side in every step of the way. You trust him with your life.

Then why didn't you tell him about this?

Looking at the blade, you raised it close to your face. It's so small and yet so deadly. You could hear the voices getting louder and louder and you wanted it to stop. You wanted everything to stop. You want to be happy again, you wanted to feel some kind of positive emotion. You hated how it has to come to this but you wanted to leave. No one was going to care, what was the point to stay?

You moved from the floor to the bathtub and hovered the blade to your wrist. Why was your hand shaking? You want this for yourself. But you feel like you were forgetting someone. Someone who would really care. You're pretty sure you just thought of it earlier but it seems so hazy now. You blinked a few times and just as you were about to press the blade to your skin, the bathroom door swung open with a loud and startling bang.

You gasped, dropping the object and then hissed in pain when you felt it slice through your skin. You covered your wrist as blood start to run down, you didn't even notice the person pulled you out of the bathtub. Looking up you realize it was Donnie. What was he doing here?

"Are you crazy?!" He yelled at you before opening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out a first aid kit rather quickly. He threw a few of them to the side and pulled out the kit used for sewing up a wound and also took out medical cotton pads and bandages. He looked around and swiftly pulling off the hand towel. You were studying medical as an extracurricular class and had bought a first aid kit full of everything you need to even take care of a deep wound. You whimpered when he forcefully took your hand off the deep cut and placed the towel.

"Why could you possibly try to kill yourself? It's not like you have friends and family that would care for you. No, absolutely not, huh?" He disinfected your wound, which you cried out from, and sterilized the needle.

"You just couldn't see how much everyone cares about you so you decided it was such a clever idea to just accept death. Because no one could have possibly have cared, mourned, and think that it was their fault. People would have just forgotten about you because you weren't that important." He ranted, pausing in occasion as he sewed your wound up. His hands were shaking, why were his hands shaking?!

You didn't pay attention, didn't even feel the needle puncturing your skin and the pain from the cut had faded away. You were only listening to his words and flinch at every single word. Your throat felt constricted, your eyes stung, and you really tried to contain the sounds you were making but it was getting hard.

He finished stitching and cleaned off the rest of the blood before placing the cotton pad on top of it and then wrapped it with a bandage. He started to clean up, muttering to himself that you didn't hear or pay attention to. Your hands lied limply on your lap and you stared at the wall across from you. Your face was blank from emotion but tears were running down your face. Your hair clung to your face and your lips trembled.

"Obviously, I wouldn't have cared about the woman I love, my own best friend. I wouldn't have..." His voice wavered and he sat down beside you with his battle shell hitting the wall with a clunk. You turned your head to look at him and you were surprised. Well, you were already quite surprised at the confession but seeing him sitting there with tears on his face with a hand to cover his eyes, that was quite a surprise. He sighed out, his breath shaky before he looked at you again with the most broken look you've ever seen.

"I...I didn't think..." You trailed off, looking down.

"Yeah, you didn't think. You didn't think that someone could have helped you. You didn't trust me to help you. Your answers are always sarcasm, while I like it you used it as a defense mechanism. You can't expect everyone to know, to read your mind, (Y/N)."

"I didn't want to be a burden." You whispered out, looking down to your hands.

"And I told you before, you are never a burden to me." His eyebrows furrowed, observing you. The tears had dried on his face by now but at the moment, he didn't care. His top priority was you.

"It's not like you were always busy." You responded, sarcastically. He sighed in exasperation his head hitting the wall behind him when he leaned back.

"I would have made time for you. I would have pushed everything away to help you and I would have been glad to if it means I could take care of someone I care about." It was a bit odd for him to admit that but it was true.

"I'm sorry." You sobbed out and just as you were about to curl up into a ball, he wrapped his arms around you. You clutched on his arm tightly with you uninjured hand and just cried. He remained by your side and never let you go.

It's been a few hours and now you both sat in your living room and watching whatever was on the TV. You both talked and you told him everything you could but had to stop once in a while when your throat clamped up. He was patient with you and remained quiet. His face had remained passive during the whole thing but you could tell his reactions from his eyes. You learned to read his eyes more because he was always closed off and he made sure his body language showed that.

"Are we ever going to mention that you just confessed earlier." You asked, looking at him. He sighed, turning to look at you.

"I was hoping you didn't hear that." He looked sheepish when he said that. You smirked at the look. "But yes, I indeed have fallen in love with you."

"Huh, the flirting made sense now." He smiled rolling his eyes. "Oh, and the touching too. And asking me out multiple times actually."

"Ok, can we please forget about this and just watch the movie?" He looked around nervously with his face burning.

"What if I don't want to forget?" You asked, quietly. He looked at you confused. "What if I said that I fell in love with you too?"

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I'm...I'm like this." You gesture to yourself and your wound. "I didn't want you to feel like it's your job to help me and be the one to show me that I could love myself. I wanted to do that on my own first. I didn't want to depend on you for my happiness. But I should also have asked help, I shouldn't have to try to do this on my own."

"What does this mean then?" You looked down and contemplated.

"I want you to be patient with me for a little while longer. I want you to be there for me while I get the help I need and I know one day, we can go on a date you've clearly been asking for." You gave him a teasing smile and he rolled his eyes, again

"Ok, I can do that."