Hey, ya'll! Weezellee here! Not to worry, I'm still working on my other fanfic, Reason, I was just watching the newest TMNT movie, and this plot line would NOT leave me. While watching this movie (that is amazing, by the way) I was just wondering some things. What if the younger brothers (Mike and Don) knew about the Nightwatcher? That question sparked this story that was honestly only suppose to be a drabble, but heck! Do I ever do anything simple! LOL!

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT!

Shades of Green

"Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled." -Jane Mersky Leder

Chapter I: The Seperation

Don stared at the screen blankly, but his hands remained clasped under his chin. He had long stopped answering calls for his tech-support jobs but just for the night. His skin was bathed in the digital blue of the computer while the rest of his room remained in shadows. Everything ached from sitting too long, and his mind was ready to explode from too many stupid questions and too many stupid humans. Don had once or twice almost given into the temptation of launching his bo staff like a javelin into the computer to stop it all. But he had to do this for too many reasons.

Hardly hearing the door open and close, Don jumped feeling Mickey's hand on his shoulder. Damn ninja skills, Don mentally said. Turning in the swiveled office chair, Don saw Mickey's equally tired face. Even in the strange light, Don could see the dark green bruises on Mickey's shoulders and arms from too many kids with too many waffle bats.

"What are we doing this for, Donnie?" Mickey asked, his voice so lost of his free-spirited personality that Don wondered if the sun would shine again.

Don sighed inwardly, but answered lowly. "I'm not sure. Splinter needs medication and we need food. I suppose that's what happens when you grow up."

"When did that happen?"

"Hum?" Don asked, very tired.

Mickey chucked the Cowabunga Carl mask to the sofa, but it landed short of it's target. Clattering to the floor, the bulky, plastic turtle mask rolled around until stopping. Mickey and Don watched it in worn stares. Suddenly Don griped his hand free phone respecter, unplugged it from the console, and flung it like a shuriken. With it's long cord, the respecter landed sadly off target, Mickey's oversize mask.

Mickey rephrased his question. "When did we grow up?"

Don went silent for a moment; not because he was ignoring Mickey, but because he was asking himself the same thing. When did it happen? Was there a definite step they took, or was it more gradual than that?

"Things change." Don could only offer that sad explanation. It sounded like he both answered and ignored the question. That's what Don felt inside- whole and empty, answered and ignored. Life handed him a predestined life that was less and more than what he had. For years Don wanted nothing more than stability and a routine he could live while he and his brothers lived a life that could never had a schedule. Now that he had that mundane, clock-work routine, Don wondered what would be the best life. Could there be a mid point? Was there a point for them between something stable and spontaneous.

It was no officially a year since Leo left. Seven months since Don failed as being leader. The brotherly love that followed lasted for about two weeks. Then Don and Mikey became swamped with work, and Raph…

Mickey's hand slapped the back of Donnie's head. Looking up, Don saw a scowl on his baby brother's face. "Stop that." Mickey scolded which had Don blink three to four times in shock. When did Mickey, the most carefree, fun of them all, turn into someone so emo like Raph or Leo?

"Stop what?" Don demanded tiredly. He was so tired.

"Stop thinking for once. It's driving me insane." Mickey soon smiled which caused Don to smile. "Hey, lets go out!"

"Out?"

Mickey laughed, "You remember out, don't you, hermit the frog? Let's go out for a run tonight. Do something! Anything!" Mickey somersaulted onto Don's bed making his brother laugh. Despite how tired Don felt, seeing Mickey acting like himself was enough to agree to one night run. Where did Mickey get all his energy, Don wondered.

Leaving the lair, Don looked up where Raph's room was. It was currently unoccupied; like every night for months. Don remembered a time where Raph would be the one dragging Don from a recent invention for a run. Those days were gone like a leaf swept down the storm drain.

Oddly the conversation that night dwelled on those good old days when their brotherhood seemed unbreakable. Never did Mickey want to talk about the here and now because no one seemed to be here and now but the broken pieces of who they use to be.

Mickey jumped on Don's back as they walk along the dark tunnels they memorized. Don also noticed how weaker Don had became since Splinter abandoned training sessions two months ago. Everyone seemed so unfocused; lost in their own world. What use to be unified was now broken. Inside, the guilt was trobbing in Don's heart like a hammer.

Don had failed as a leader.

Then everyone gave up on the team.

"What do you think Raph does at night?" Mickey asked innocently, jarring Don from hsi guilt trip.

Don sighed, "I've been asking myself that."

Teasingly, Mickey laughed, "You don't think he has a girlfriend?"

"Right." Don scoffed, "That's your theory?"

"Hum…who knows anymore." Mickey finally jumped off Don's back; which Don was grateful for. They used the garage exit where Mickey's Cowabunga Carl van hid behind a camouflaged garage door. It was well past two, so streets were cleared. Perfect time for a nightly stroll on the rooftops.

Don, in both Raph's and Leo's absence, was the eldest, so he lead the run. It was part of their code that the eldest brother lead. Leo always had that mantel, and Raphael seemed to always envy that right.

Don sighed as he remembered the first weeks after Leo left. Splinter put him in leadership position, Leo's job. Because of bad judgement and a dozen other things, Don failed at that job. The team was disbanded. Don failed. The brotherhood failed.

The air was crisp and clean. It was a welcoming difference from the sewers stale air. Seeing the twinkling skyline and river reminded him of good yet gone old days. The grainy rooftops on his bear feet made him feel more alive than he had for months. Don truly had missed the rush of ninja, rooftop gymnastics.

"Should we go patrolling?" Mickey asked running next to Donnie. Again Mickey understood the law of responsibility unlike Raph did. Don hesitated on a twelve story bank to think. He wasn't the turtle of snap or spontaneous choices, and Mickey knew this. He respected it to, but not when Mickey was in mid jump!

When Mickey turned to see if Don was following, and noticing that he was short one techno-geek, Mickey nearly missed the apartment complex he was aiming for. The foolish mistake that would have the punishment of twelve hours of personal training, Mickey gripped the ledge with a very un-ninja like scream.

"Mickey!" Don yelled out, jumped, and offered a hand down.

Mickey took it as his heart nearly jumped out of his shell. "Gee, Donatello, next time could you leave me a memo?"

"Uh…sorry." Don grimiest as Mickey took the offered hand. Hoisting Mickey up to the rooftop, Don stood by Mickey's side.

"I just got distracted for a second." Don offered a sad explanation.

"And they call me the absentminded one." Mickey joked. "No problo, bro. You know you've been doing that a lot lately."

"What do you mean?"

Leaning against another brick wall, Mickey said in an astonishing serious voice, "You've been thinking too much, dude. That's a lot coming from you. It's not the normal science-like Donnie thinking either. There are things bothering you. Sometimes I catch you staring at your screen for hours, and your aren't doing nothing…" Mickey waiting for a moment, giving the silence a strained aura. "See!" Mickey pointed out.

"What?" Don asked a little annoyed.

Shaking his head, Mickey groaned, "Double negative. I just said, 'you're aren't doing nothing.' That type of grammar error would've had your bo staff down my throat in a second. You use to be to pick up on things like that, and that's why I say you're acting so distracted."

"You already know the reason why, Mickey." Don looked to the skyline, feeling suddenly broken. "It's the same reason why you haven't pulled a prank in two weeks. It's the same reason why Master Splinter only comes out for his soap operas." Don turned to Mickey feeling something else break, but this time it was like a pressure valve. "And, It's the reason why Raph feels the need to be alone every damn minute!"

Don paused. The internal pressure valve was quickly fixed. He saw the surprise in Mickey's eyes. This was not, repeat not, like Donatello, the calm and slightly passive doormat of the family. Don's anger explosions were small and few, but they were alarming and rather frightening.

Sighing, Don joined his brother in leaning against the wall. "What's happened to us, Mickey? I'm so tired of this. At first I thought we were…adjusting, but things just keep getting worse. I've been thinking. What if this is just the beginning?"

"The beginning of what?"

"The separation."

Mickey pushed away from the wall quickly to turn to Don like he was just smacked. Don almost anticipated the reaction. Heck, he even felt a little shock when he came to the same conclusion. They were growing up, but did growing up have to mean growing apart?

A crash below silenced any retort Mickey could offer. Ninja skills developed for twenty years kicked in. Don and Mickey stood on the edge looking into a sad alley full of refuse and Purple Dragons. Trapped in a corner was a captured citizen with a loaded wallet. The dragon thugs looked quite meanicing with baseball bats and broken lead pipes.

"You think the Purple Dragons could come out of the stone age and get weapons they didn't have to barrow from the Garbageman." Mickey joked.

Don took out his bo without a word. He needed an outlet for all this frustration festering deep inside. Maybe after the fury was all gone, Don could grasp a sense of reality.

"Hold on, Don!" Mickey griped Don's shoulder. Pointing, Mickey smiled, "Looks like this is someone else's party."

Don glanced to where Mickey was pointing. Standing alone in the alley's only human exit was New York's newest crime sweeper, the Nightwatcher. Neither of the turtle brothers had seen the Nightwatcher this close. They only saw the Nightwatcher on blurry video footage on news channels. Needless to say, Don never got out much, and Mickey did his gig before his clients' bedtimes.

Don's eyes furrowed in mistrust. What did this novice wish to prove? That any chain swinging human could take on a few dragon thugs? Rolling his eyes, Don scoffed at the Nightwatcher's outfit.

"What is this? A black Robocop?" Don sneered.

Mickey waved his hand in warning. Don rolled his eye again. What Mickey loved more than heroes was real-life heroes. Mickey's room was a disorganized museum for Marvel Comics. Every sketch book Mickey owned was full of sketches of comic heroes and villains. In Mickey's eyes, comic book superheroes were next to gods. So obviously the Nightwatcher was Mickey's newest fandom.

Curious enough not to jump in, Don sat in a more comfortable crouch. Mickey followed with a slight jump of excitement. The black armored hero strutted with a swagger that would have fan girls drooling for hours.

"Pardon me for interrupting, boys." The Nightwatcher cockily called. "I couldn't help to notice you look a bit lost. The junkyard is that way." He pointed a leathered thumb behind him. Don huffed at such corny theatrics.

The leader of this particular dragon faction stood strong in front of the Nightwatcher. The brute was more than a foot taller than the hero and looked twice as strong.

"You've got some business here, freak?"

The Nightwatcher folded his arms, "In fact I do. The trash needs to be taken out." With the last word of his sarcasium, the Nightwatcher side kicked the tug. Don's eye ride rose just a little. That was some kick. The thug was tossed into his fellow dragons like a bowling ball to pins. Mickey whistled in astonishment.

The fight was short lived. As the fight reached it anti-climatic end, Don's curiosity rose. Where had he seen that fighting style before? It was so familiar. Looking down at Mickey, Don could read in his little brother that he was thinking the same. Each kick, each punch, and even when he used the chains to tie his fallen foes. It was all too familiar.

"I'll just leave you guys here for the garbage man." The Nightwatcher laughed.

"That laugh…" Don whispered.

"That kick…" Mickey voiced just as breathlessly.

The only light came from the street lamps which created a dark atmosphere in the alley. The Nightwatcher stood right in that light. After the fight, Don expected the Nightwatcher to phone for police or something rather than stand in the mist of his victory. Watching closely, Don saw the Nightwatcher removing his helmet.

Mickey let out a auto-able gasp. Standing there in Nightwatcher garb was their own brother, Hamato Raphael! If he wasn't so shocked, Don could almost guess the rage Splinter and Leo would be in learning this. Don's own blood that first froze with shock was now boiling with something he would have to diagnose later. Right now he couldn't see right let alone think clearly.

Don turned to give himself time to think. He stared at the starless, moonless sky without actually seeing it. Mickey was somewhere near and so where the police car lights. Soon there were humans in the alley, and their voices carried to the fire escapes. Mickey pulled on Donnie's arm, and they were off again into the shadows.

Was this, Donnie wondered, just a side effect of the seperation?

-Weezellee