Raph was hurt.

Don could tell. It was obvious from the noise he was making outside the apartment. He could hear his brother scramble to find his keys and fumble at the doorknob. Raph was one of the loudest of his brothers (Mikey took first place) but he was never loud for no good reason. He had reasons for cranking up his personal volume. Coming home late in the middle of the night was not one of them.

Don got off the couch he'd been sleeping on and headed towards the front door. The lock was easy enough to undo and soon enough he had the door opened. Standing in the entryway was Raph, figure slumped over, holding onto the doorframe for support. His fingers were digging into the cheap wood. The teen was in the same clothes he'd left the house with, t-shirt, jeans. His bright red duffle was slung over his shoulder, and while Don knew it wasn't very heavy, it seemed to be almost weighing his brother down. Like it was full of bricks instead of his fighting clothes.

Don took stock of his injuries. He could make out most of them even in the dim light of the hallway. A few broken fingers. A bruised shoulder. A cut knee. It wasn't the worst Raph had ever come home with. Face and head injuries were the real nightmare. This would be easy enough to cover up. If Raph had gotten hit in the face, it'd be harder.

"Come'on," Donnie said. He walked forward and slung his brother's arm over his shoulder, leading him to the couch. This was their nightly ritual every Thursday. Raph would go out to work in the boxing ring for a few hours while Leo was still at work and Mikey was asleep (Raph told them he was 18), Donnie would wait up for his beat ass, and then he'd stitch him back together in the dead of the night. Rinse. Repeat.

They'd been keeping up this routine for 3 months now, and if it wasn't necessary, Donnie would have forced Raph to stop on his first day. But they needed the money. Desperately. And unless Leo dropped out of school, they wasn't any other way to get by. So they lied. Raph hid his injuries like they were nothing. Don lied about how much money he was bringing back from his part-time job. And they both prayed that Leo would never find out.

"How'd it go?" Don said, letting Raph down on the couch with care. Raph hissed as his back met the couch cushions. The first aid kit was already out, propped on the table next to the couch. The first time they had done this, most of the supplies were outdated or gone entirely. Now the kit was well stocked with materials Don stole from the school nurse's office. Don doubted that he'd need more than some bandages, though his broken finger would likely need a splint.

Raph reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollars. It wasn't bad, wasn't bad at all. He threw it on the table next to the first aid kit. "Nightwatcher cleaned up tonight."

Don rolled his eyes as he reached for a large piece of gauze for Raph's knee. He was under the firm opinion that Raph's stage name was rather stupid. Not that Raph cared. He grabbed the antibiotic cream and smeared it on the bandage.

"Really?"

"Guys didn't know what they had coming. Thought I was a shrimp and well-" Raph stopped to bite back another hiss as Don placed a bandage over his knee. The cream stung. "They were impressed. Real, impressed. They'd probably be more impressed if they knew I was only 16."

More like appalled, Don thought. While the ring Raph worked at was full of lowlifes, he doubted that they'd be happy to learn they'd be beating on a minor. Don turned his attention to the broken finger, reaching for a popsicle stick he kept in the first-aid kit. Raph had injured this same finger four times already in the last three months. At this point, Don was positive that it would always be somewhat crooked. A permanent mark of the sacrifice that Raph made for their family. One of many.

One he shouldn't be making alone.

"Raph," Donnie said, wrapping tape around his brother's two fingers and the popsicle stick. "All these injuries. They're not-"

"Forget about it, Don," Raph said, voice low. Dangerous. The same voice he used on the ring. They'd been having this argument for weeks now, whispering in the dark of night over the same damn subject. Raph seemed to be able to predict its onset by only a single word now.

Don pulled tighter at the tape. Raph bit back a yelp. "It'd make it easier to hide from Leo. He'd stop watching you so closely."

He was. Leo wasn't an idiot. He'd picked up that Raph had been getting hurt more lately. Don was shocked that their lies managed to fly at all. He assumed it was because Leo was working so much. With two part time jobs and high school, it was a miracle Leo even managed to notice if he put on pants in the morning. He was in a constant state of being tired.

"You're not going to fight in the ring, Don."

Don looked up at him. Out of their four brothers, Don and Raph were the only set of twins, Raph born only a few seconds before Donnie. The didn't look anything alike, Raph was tall and burly while Don was tall and all arms, but their father always said they had the same stubborn streak. Don couldn't see it clearer than now.

"It makes sense," Don said, letting go of Raph's hand. He placed the tape on the couch for the meantime. "You get less beat up often. Leo suspects less. You'd have more time for schoolwork." Raph had started falling asleep in class more than usual since he'd taken up the job. It wasn't doing wonders for his grades. Raph reached down at the couch cusions with his uninjured hand, and began pulling at lose strands of the sofa cushions.

"Not that'd it matter," Raph muttered. Don scowled and flicked him fight on his knee, where the bandage was. This time, Raph couldn't hide the noise of pain he made. Don poked his forefinger into his brother's chest. Like their father used to.

"Don't give me that. Never give me that. You're just as smart as I am." Raph began to roll his eyes, but Don poked him in the chest again. "I'm serious."

Raph raised an eyebrow. He didn't seem convinced but he decided to stop pushing the point. "Fine. But you got better grades. You start working the ring, those are going to drop."

Don lifted his chin. "No, they won't."

"They will with a concussion." Don didn't lower his gaze and Raph reached forward to grab his twin's shoulder. Looked him right in the eye. Let the anger fade from his voice. "If you go into that ring, you're gonna get hurt, Donnie. You're gonna come home with cuts and bruises and I'm gonna be stuck patching you up." He gestured to the bruise on his shoulder. "And I can't do that. I can take a lot of hits, but I can't take that one."

Don averted his eyes. The lamp illuminating the room flickered in the darkness. They have to replace the bulb soon. He ran his hand through his dark black hair. He'd grown it out long this year, right past his ears. Raph, who kept his hair in a short buzz, said it made him look like a hippie. Their father had teased them on both of their looks right until his death. When everything fell apart.

"I could do it, you know," Don whispered after a minute. "I could win."

He could. He knew he could. He's had the same training as Raph, he could take a hit, he could give one back. All of them could. He could go to that ring, put up his fists, and fight while Raph slept safe at home. He could.

Raph just squeezed Don's shoulder tighter. "I know." He grabbed the tape with his good hand and passed it back to Don. "Now, keep wrappin'. You're almost done."

The next morning, they wouldn't speak of this. Raph would claim that he beat up his fingers playing football and Leo, dead tired from working two jobs while attending school, would believe them. The money would buy groceries and pay for rent and Don would lie that he earned it. They would survive.

And the hushed conversations of Thursday nights would linger.