The turtle teen coughed weakly, trying to hang onto consciousness. That seemed just as easy as trying to get his own feet under him, boots sticking from the smears of red liquor that was just inviting more of the flames directly towards them.

He hissed, pulling back a hand as the fire was too close, leaning heavily against Radley. Donnie himself wasn't necessarily that heavy, but his battle shell was the main compromise, being made of metal.