Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT. I am not profiting from this piece.
Cuts. Scratches. Chipped shell. Marred skin. Scars.
Callous reminders of how close, how much, and how far.
Ugly wounds on an ugly form. He loathed them.
Wide eyes met narrowed. His brother approached, concerned. "I'm sorry."
His eyes softened. "I'm not." He thumbed the newest one. Long, deep, abhorrent to heal. It prickled.
Voice hushed, not interrupting the background chatter, "Does it sting?"
He looked from the hideous slash to his brothers, family, friends. Every scar was for them. The thought of losing them hurt more than any injury ever could.
He slung an arm around his brother's shoulder. "Never."