Everything moves in slow motion within the next few seconds. I see the exact moment Donatello lets his monster loose; the manic smile that twists his lips, dilated pupils almost covering his entire iris. It’s like I didn’t even hit him, and if I hadn’t physically seen him move, or see the blue instantly blooming across his cheek, I would have thought I’d missed him. I see his hit coming, the swing of his arm headed straight for my jaw. I know if he’s able to make that contact, I’m fucking done.
I drop to duck it, just to get his left hook straight to my ribs. And fuck does it hurt, the air shoved from my lungs, chest heaving as it tries to suck more in without success. I take a wild swing, feeling my fist connect with the solid mass of his side. It shuffles him enough I’m able to block his next punch, the air slowly leaking back into my chest as I shove off him, putting much needed space between us.
He stands to his full height, hands relaxed in front of him like this is a casual boxing match. He smiles, goading me into movement. “Scared pup?”
I don’t take his bait, eyeing the way he pivots with me. Mentally calculating how and where he can hit me if I move a certain way. He’s used to fighting people who don’t know how he fights and I can use that to my advantage to last just a little bit longer. Because let’s be honest here, I’m not going to win against this fuck. Jumping into his space I take the fist I knew was coming to my mouth, ignoring how my teeth shred the inside of my lip and my mouth fills with blood. I immediately hit him in the face, connecting with the same cheek as before with a double tap that sends blood spraying across the pavement.
He slams me to the ground with his body. My back smacking against the ground so hard my teeth rattle in my head as he hits me with a barrage of jabs to the ribs. He’s aiming most of his punches to my right side, intentionally hitting the same spot over and over. I can’t swing my arm in the position I’m in so I use my elbow, using all the strength I have to slam my forearm into the side of his head not letting up until he’s forced to stop throwing punches. As he pulls away I can see blood trickling from the drum of his ear.
I see the next hit coming for my face and throw an arm up, it taking most of the blow instead of my face. In an attempt to get out from under him, I buck my hips, knee slamming into his back hard enough he jostles, giving me the space I need to roll away. He lets me stand, his dark eyes watching me grab my ribs, a small smile telling me he’s just figured out how he’s going to end this. He doesn’t wait for me to move this time, starting to step forward when Delaney starts yelling.
“Donatello! You told me I could do this. You said it was my choice!”
He pauses, eyes never leaving mine. For the sake of myself, I hope he’ll fucking listen to her.
“I lied.”
It’s the last thing I hear before I’m knocked on my ass, ears ringing and neck throbbing with the angle it was jerked with his hit. Pressing my palms on the ground I try to push myself up but he kicks my ribs. The same ones he’s been hitting, and I curl with the force, my body taking it upon itself to try and protect me since I haven’t been doing such a great job of it. Logically, I know I need to get my ass up if I want to even attempt to live through this, but I can’t get my body to listen. My ribs scream in pain as I lift onto my elbow. I finally get myself in a position where I can look at Donatello, just to find him standing over me, waiting for me to make eye contact just so he can kick me again, rolling me onto my back this time.
He crouches down, forearms resting against his knees as he squats by me. Blood is dripping from his bruised cheek and ear, a split on his lower lip, the only physical damages I was able to inflict. His knuckles are bloodied and scraped from hitting me, the metallic tang in my mouth and sharp, throbbing pain in my ribs that burns with each breath telling me they’re more than bruised.
“Was it worth it, pup?”
I spit at him, blood spraying across his forearms and splattering along the bottom half of his face but he doesn’t even blink. “She’ll always be worth it.”
“How romantic of you.” He stands, boot connecting with my ribs once more as I try to turn away, but I’m moving too slowly to avoid it and it rocks me back onto my stomach.
When the next kick doesn’t come, I force myself onto my forearms and knees, cradling my side as I look to see what he could possibly be waiting for now. But instead of an angry Donatello in my face, I see him getting held back by Capo Bastone, Andrea. He looks angry as fuck, yelling into Donatello’s face something I can’t hear. Gritting my teeth, I move to sit on my knees, slowing rising onto my feet as I cradle my ribs. Using my dirty palm, I wipe the blood from my mouth, trying to focus past the ringing in my head to get a bearing on what the fuck
