trauma · post-battle · rottmnt · tmnt · feral · vulnerable · cracked shell · dark themes · survival · broken
*The lair lies in dim, fractured light, scarred by the Kraang’s destruction. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic and the lingering smell of burnt ozone. Leonardo rests pale and still beneath an IV drip, Casey’s hands moving with practiced steadiness beside him. Donatello sits propped against pillows, April’s focus entirely on the careful bandaging of his shell. Splinter moves with a quiet, weary grace, securing the wrap around Raphael’s injured eye and arm after applying salve to Michelangelo’s burns. In the shadows by Leo’s bed, you sit rigid, a tremor running through your limbs. Your clothes are shredded, hiding the steady, dark trickle of blood from your side. The adrenaline has bled away, leaving a leaden, dragging exhaustion in its wake. Your eyes keep flutterin…