I'm really sorry! This isn't one of the projects I meant to post today, but rather a rather demanding bunny that bit me on the toe a few days ago.

Thanks to Kalla for beta-ing and encouraging... now please enjoy, cuz I really hope it's enjoyable.

Somebody's Hero

It was only a bike, only a stupid bike and a ridiculous looking costume, but Raphael's heart still ached as he locked the warehouse door behind him.

This wasn't how Raph envisioned his 'career' ending-- with a whimper rather than a bang-- he didn't do whimpers. There was supposed to be more, and with there still so much crime out there...

Raph quickly shook his head, as if he could somehow jostle his thoughts right out of there. It was best to not go down that road. He had made his decision and he was sticking to it. For Leo. For his family.

The warehouse, like the costume and motorcycle, was part of Merryweather's legacy. Entrusted to Raph, even though the old man had barely knew him. Merryweather probably thought the young mutant was his only choice-- the human had been determined that no one would find out his secret.

Well, Raph was a green, foul-tempered, oversized turtle.

In other words: No one.

Carefully making his way out of the alley, Raph shifted the paper bag that contained the Nightwatcher's helmet to his other hand. This was it. He would never see this place again-- He would never again spend a long night out here bandaging up wounds that his family could never find out about. Never again fall asleep with his head propped up by the front wheel of the bike, waking up with a hell of a crick in his neck the next morning. Never again spend hours repairing armor, swearing the whole time and wishing someone was there to keep him company.

The Nightwatcher was officially retiring.

The Nightwatcher's gear would be safe for a long while-- part of the old man's will involved paying for this hidey hole. 'Course that part was buried pretty deep inside the document; behind some sort of charity-fund funny math that Raph was pretty certain would make even Don's head hurt.

...Merryweather had made one mistake, though, all his preparations aside. One very big mistake.

Raph was no hero. Not when it counted.

He could still see it, even with his eyes open. Leo-- pinned below him, finally defeated. The younger turtle had won, that hot red haze that sometimes engulfed him actually aiding his fight for once rather than distracting from it. It had helped him--

Almost kill his brother.

Raph groaned and shut his eyes, deftly moving around a light post without even thinking about it. God. He could still see Leo's eyes; that way his elder brother had stared at him. Shocked. Almost... almost...

It had been several days now, and they hadn't talked about it-- and they never would, either. Not them. Instead, Raph was going to bring the helmet back to the Lair-- the same helmet Leo knocked off his head just prior to Raphael's horrible mistake-- and hand it to Sensei. That would say it better than any mere words.

It was over.

--

The sound of raucous laughter greeted him as he carefully made his way into their underground home. Mikey's voice. Behind it was the hum of the television, Jay Leno making quips about smog and Olympic torches.

Blinking in the sudden light, Raph almost smiled as he took in the sight in front of him. Mikey was watching TV... he had figured that part out by the sound of it.

What his ears couldn't-- didn't-- pick up was the fact that his little brother was watching it upside down, his feet dangling over the back of the couch, one or both kicking up like a wack-a-mole ever so often. Beside him sat a greasy bag of pork rinds.

Mikey popped one of the rinds into his mouth as he waved. "Hey bro! You're back early!"

Wondering how the hell his brother didn't choke, Raph casually placed his precious cargo on top of a pile of magazines and newspapers. "Yeah," he agreed. "M' gonna start... hangin' around here a bit more often, I guess."

"Really?!" Mikey gracefully did a half-flip, coming to stand behind the couch. "Great! You can watch movies with me then!"

"What about Leo n' Donnie?"

"Aww," Mikey made a face. "They don't have any appreciation for the greats."

"'The attack of the 50 Foot Woman' is hardly good, let alone great," muttered Raphael, recalling the last time he let his little brother talk him into watching a movie. ...God, how long ago had that -been-?

For not the first time in the last several days, he felt a faint pang of guilt. Raph shook himself out of it, gaze returning to the other turtle.

Mikey simply stuck his tongue out at him. "Philistine!" He reached over, grabbed his pork rinds from the cushion, and popped one into his mouth.

"Bonehead." retorted Raph, turning around to grab his bag. He was letting Mikey distract him from his mission... not good. Sensei was probably still up...

The costume was locked in a trunk. The bike had its gas emptied and was resting beneath a tarp. Only one thing left to do now.

As he lifted up the bag from the messy pile of reading materials, something fell with a loud rustle of paper. Annoyed, Raph reached down to pick it up-- and froze. "Hell..." the word escaped his mouth in a low drawn out hiss.

"Huh?" Mikey joined him, peaking curiously over Raph's shoulder. "Oh hey, that's where I left my Nightwatcher scrapbook! Thanks, bro!" And with that, he plucked the damned book out of Raph's suddenly numb fingers.

How the hell had he forgotten? Mikey was a -fan- of the Nightwatcher. Raph knew that-- had been unable to keep a smirk off his face the first few times his little brother whipped the thing out. It had been so amusing then, ironic and touching all at once.

Not anymore.

"Mikey..." What the hell was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to say? He had given up on the Nightwatcher for one brother-- which would disappoint another brother in turn... just like he did the old man.

Raph let his brother's name trail off, fighting off the sudden urge to grab the helmet, get back to the warehouse, and do something spectacular enough to get on the news again-- something that would bring a smile to Mikey's face over breakfast. The smile Raphael couldn't seem to produce himself.

In the end, it was Leo's eyes that stopped him-- and even then, just barely.

"Raph?" Raph looked up and for a second he thought that horrible vision had somehow made its way into reality again. Eyes. There were two eyes staring at him. Trapping him.

It took a few agonizingly long seconds to figure out that not only were they the wrong color, but the expression was all wrong too.

"Uuuh, you okay?" asked Mikey, looking confused.

"He..." Raph's thoughts raced. His brother had to understand that it was for the best... that the Nightwatcher up and disappearing was a good thing. The best thing. Raph couldn't let Mikey continue to look up to a lie. He looked away, unable to meet that earnest gaze. "...He wasn't a real hero, Mikey. Not anythin' like it."

When he looked back the younger turtle was giving him a strange look, one almost reminiscent of Leonardo, though Raph couldn't quite pinpoint how. "...Who wasn't?" asked his brother, after something of a long strained pause.

"The Nightwatcher." Damn, he hated these sorts of situations. As often as he ended up doing it, Raph honestly despised letting down his family-- at least when it mattered. Pissing off Leo or Don when they were in leader-mode only counted -some- of the time. "Don was... right... about him. He wasn't a--"

"Hero?" Mikey frowned, his eyes half-shut in what Raph recognized as a look of deep thinking.

Raphael braced himself for what would likely be the next nail in the coffin of this entire fiasco.

"Geee..." Mikey drew out the word with something almost akin to sarcasm. "...I thought he did a pretty good job helping rescue his brother, personally."

Raph froze. Then unfroze. Then froze again for good measure. "...What?" he managed, as soon as his body stopped impersonating a kitchen appliance on the fritz.

Mikey rolled his eyes, that earlier thoughtful look now replaced by one of amusement. "We are ninja, Raph. Did you honestly think we weren't going to figure it out? And geez, sit down or something..." Mikey sounded disgruntled. "It's not that surprising."

"I thought..." Raphael tried to find a way to put this thought into words. Words that didn't make him sound like a complete-- and confused-- wuss. "With Leo gone and all..."

His brother nodded, sitting down next to Raph. "Leo was gone. Casey said he didn't know where you were either. Somebody had to go make sure you weren't about to be thrown through another skylight or tied up in some junkyard."

Raph felt something familiar spark up in him again. That first... incident... had been something he and his brothers had never, by unspoken agreement, discussed. The later he had... convinced... them to stop joking about. Eventually. "I can take care of myself!"

Mikey held up his arms placating. "Yeah yeah yeah... You'd go looking for us too and you know it, Raph."

Raph did.

He forced himself to lean back in the couch and relax. Mikey had been the only brother these last few years he hadn't gotten into a blow-up with and he sort of wanted to keep it that way. Especially when he was taking Mikey's hero away.

Wait a second...

His eyes shot back to the scrapbook, which was currently resting in Mikey's arms. Mikey had spent hours on that thing. Days even! And he knew the Nightwatcher was Raph. He had called Raphael his hero.

The other turtle followed his gaze, and then flushed. "Eh heh. This. Right."

"Why?" asked Raph lowly.

"...It was funny?"

"Mikey." Raph frowned. He might not have spent much time around the Lair or his remaining brothers lately, but that didn't mean he didn't recognize it when Mikey dodged a question. He gave his brother a searching look.

Mikey squirmed under his gaze. "It was! I mean, that's why I started it... plus I was kinda hoping... that you'd slip up and tell us. Because of it." He patted the spine as he spoke.

Raph closed his eyes with a pained sigh, and this time instead of seeing Leo staring back at him, he saw his youngest brother. Dozens of times in the living room-- or over breakfast-- always with that same smile.

A hopeful smile. He knew that now.

"Damn it..." he breathed. This was getting worse and worse.

"Raph." Mikey sounded serious again. "I'm not telling you this stuff so you can get all... like... Raph about it. I'm telling you so you'll stop."

Raph's eyes flew open and he again found himself staring at Mikey. "Stop what?"

"That... junk you were saying earlier about the Nightwatcher. Whatever it is you are thinking -now-," explained the younger turtle, looking decisively uncomfortable. "Don't..." Mikey trailed off, and when he spoke again, it was like he had skipped about five pages in the conversation. "You'd smile, sometimes, when I pulled this out or added pages to it. That's all."

Still feeling slightly off kilter, this was by far the weirdest conversation with Mikey he had ever had-- except for maybe the one Mikey initiated after Master Splinter gave them 'the talk' a few years ago-- Raph leaned back into the cushions of the couch and groaned. He'd take beating up goons over this emotional stuff any day.

Or night, rather.

"...Birds of a feather, huh?" he finally murmured, thinking back to those almost-happy moments. "Figures."

"...More like turtles of a scale?" offered Mikey, looking as equally relieved as Raph felt.

"Birds 'n turtles are related, bonehead."

"Oooh, look who's all smart now! I better warn Don that he's got competi--" Mikey was cut off by a pillow to the face.

Raph lowered his arm. "Dork." He could feel himself grinning-- only Mikey. "I can read too, you know."

Mikey laughed, holding the pillow that just hit his beak up like a shield. "Whoa... he smiles! Finally. Sooo..." He trailed off, his smile fading somewhat. "What now?"

Gesturing behind him, to the bag, Raph sighed. "I give what's in there to Sensei, n' we never talk 'bout this again."

"One of those things, huh?" Mikey studied the cover of the scrapbook, where a large color photo of the Nightwatcher was pasted-- one of the few good shots the press had ever managed to get of him. "You guys make everything so complicated, I swear."

Raph shrugged, standing up and making his way back to the table. It was getting late-- and he had to do this before he lost his nerve. He paused as he picked up the bag-- and somehow he expected it to be heavier. "Mikey... I'm sorry."

"And there you go again!" Mikey made a frustrated noise and waved his hand about. "It's -okay-. Whatever happened. That don't change what's in this book or anything else." He gestured to their father's door. "Just go in there, do what you gotta do, snap out of this funk you've been in, and then get your shell out here and watch something with me."

Nodding, Raph walked over to the door and braced himself. Now or never-- maybe after this those visions would stop haunting him.

"Raph?"

Halting again-- at this rate he'd never make it to his goal-- Raph turned around. Mikey was apparently watching TV again, and didn't even bother to turn around to face his brother. Annoyed, the older turtle prepared to go.

"...I meant all of it, you know. When I said I was impressed." Mikey's eyes were locked onto the television and his tone mild. A second later the volume went up.

The conversation was apparently over.

Which was fine by Raph, he needed to think about this. A lot. But, for now... His eyes settled one last time on the scrapbook and then flitted over to the bag. Carefully Raph knelt down, removing the helmet from its container. He gazed at it for one long moment. He'd see it after today, it'd be with the rest of their collection-- but this was the last time it'd be his.

His last moment as the Nightwatcher.

Raphael was ready. A lot more ready now than when he first entered the Lair a few minutes ago. Determined look on his face, Raph entered his father's room.

Maybe the Nightwatcher could go out as a hero, after all.