Donatello was the first one to notice that something was wrong.

He was in the dojo, on his own, running through a few exercises: apparently his mind hadn't been there enough during practice. So said Leonardo, though Don thought he was just grouchy because he and Raphael had fought.

Again.

Still, it was best not to argue, and Don didn't mind a chance to get some private time in, running through katas that were so ingrained he hardly had to think about what he was doing.

Michelangelo was watching TV in his room, of course. Leo was with Splinter, probably complaining about Raph again.

Raph was out. He'd gone before practice and not come back, which meant he was patrolling.

Don finished a kata and paused, rolling his shoulders to relax the beginnings of tension before altering his balance and going into another more complicated one.

Patrolling meant Raph was topside. Don didn't actually know what he did up there - he knew a lot of times Raph and Casey were together, and a lot of times they came back with bruises.

Don and Mike figured Raph called it 'patrolling' because it sounded better than 'picking fights with stupid street punks'. Raph claimed he got just as much practice topside as he did in their sessions in the dojo, so he used his outside excursions as an escuse not to have to run through routines in the dojo.

So when Raph walked in, just as Don was finishing up a kata, Don knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Raph saw him there. He grunted some sort of greeting, and padded to the other side of the mats.

Don stayed quiet - Raph preferred it, and Don wasn't the best with words most of the time. Still, something was wrong.

Raph had already chucked his street clothes, and his arm was bleeding. He was tense and narrow-eyed under his mask, stretching out muscles that were obviously already sore.

Punishment, maybe? Maybe Leo or Splinter sent him in to…

No. Don hadn't heard their voices, and God knew punishing Raph always involved some sort of shouting. Don hadn't heard anyone even talking, which meant Raph came in unnoticed.

Don slipped into another kata, one of the easy ones he wouldn't have to think about. And he watched his brother.

Raph cut his stretching short, and without a glance in Don's direction he faced the wall and crouched in his normal battle stance.

Don watched, curious.

Raph drew his sai, hesitated, and then suddenly tossed one over his shoulder. It fell with a dull clang onto the mat behind him.

Don cocked his head as his hands slid from position to position.

Raph hesitated, then moved in a burst of action, twisting and throwing himself backwards onto the mat. He landed on his knees and dove for the sai, and came up on his knees ready to fight.

Then he let out a loud breath and got to his feet. He crouched in his stance again instantly, and again tossed the sai behind him.

Don cocked his head, watching the repeat. This time when Raph threw himself back he landed closer to the weapon, and he grasped it and was up in seconds.

Then he straightened, obviously unsatisfied.

Don figured it out as he watched the next repeat of the move.

Raph was looking for the best way to retrieve a weapon. Trying to figure out how to move so that he was open to attack as brief a time as possible.

It wasn't a bad idea. Actually, it was pretty damned smart. Don didn't have to worry about that kind of thing often - his weapon took a two handed grip, and the bo was long and sturdy enough that if it did get knocked from both hands, he was usually within grasping range of an end no matter where it landed.

But the sai were small, comparatively light.

Don stopped pretending to exercise and stood still, watching his brother the fourth time around.

When Raph landed he overshot the sai and had to roll to grab it.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He got to his feet, glowering.

Don cleared his throat. "Listen."

Raph's eyes snapped to him.

Don held up his hands in peace. "Even on the mats, they make a sound when they hit the ground. Listen to where it lands instead of trying to see the arc it flies in."

Raph frowned and looked away from him to some invisible enemy. He let the sai fly back, and paused. The light thump of the metal on the padded mat was clear enough in the silent room, and when Raph flew backwards he landed in the perfect place to scoop the sai and roll to his feet in barely a second's time.

This time when he straightened he nodded to himself, rolling his shoulders a little. Relaxing.

Don hesitated. "See Casey tonight?"

Raph's grip shifted on his sai. "Mm. He says hi."

Don smiled faintly, doubting either Raph or Casey had given any thought to the three of them or Splinter. "Your arm bad?"

Raph straightened. He glanced at his arm as if surprised it belonged to him. He flexed it, rolled his wrist. "Nah."

Don went to the side of the mat. The other side of the room held the weapons and training pads. This side had bandages, water. Masks and guards. All vital to practice.

He took up a roll of gauze. "Come here."

"Donnie, I'm actually kind of doing something here."

"You bleed on the mats you clean the mats."

Raph cursed under his breath, but stalked across the mat to Don, sheathing the sai.

Don offered a faint smile.

Raph stuck out his arm, glowering.

"Did you clean it?" Don didn't bother waiting for an answer - there was still sweat and dirt from topside all up Raph's arm. Definitely not disinfected. He reached back and found the bottle.

Raph sighed, loud and deliberate.

Leo would have shoved the bandages into Raph's arms, stormed off, told him he hoped he got an infection and lost the damn arm if he wanted to act like that.

Don just knew Raph's annoyance for what it was - someone had gotten the better of him topside, and he was worried.

"Someone knock the sai out of your hand?" he guessed, mild and curious. Had to be careful to use the right tone with Raph.

Raph shrugged. "Made me toss 'em. Had Casey at gunpoint."

Don looked up. "What? Gunpoint? Who were you after?"

"Just some punks. Nobody."

"Nobodies with guns."

"Idiots. We got 'em. Just, before I could get the sai back…" He held up his arm. His hand was shaking, but he didn't seem to notice. "No big deal."

Don grabbed his arm, studying the gash closer. Not dirt around it. Gunpowder.

He let out a breath, startled. "You were shot."

"Not really. Grazed, Casey called it. Flesh wound." Raph grinned fiercely.

Don gaped at him.

"Don't tell anybody, huh? Splinter'd jump on my ass, and Mikey'd just worry."

Don frowned, but got to work blotting disinfectant on cotton batting.

Raph hissed when the alcohol touched his wound.

Don got it as clean as he could manage, and wrapped the wound tightly. Raph was right, it wasn't bleeding out. Flesh wound. But the idea of it…

Even after Shredder, after the Foot, after the things they'd faced, guns still seemed like a horror. Worse than the rest, because any clumsy amateur could have one, and could kill with it.

"You ever think…"

Don looked up. The voice was Raph, but the tone was quiet and strange.

Raph drew his eyes from the wall to Don. "Ever wonder what we do this for?"

Don shook his head.

Raph smiled faintly and looked away again. "Guy that shot at Casey and me, he and his pals just got done hitting up this couple at gunpoint. Robbed the guy, scared this little nothing slip of a girl half to death. Probably gave her nightmares for life. These guys were scum. Lowest of the low, you know?"

Don nodded, silent.

Raph scratched at his neck with his free hand. "This guy, this scum, after he does this," he gestured at his wound, "he gets a look at my face, right? I kinda got knocked off balance, hat went flying. You know."

Don nodded again. He knew.

"Takes one look at me and starts shouting. Like I'm the one jumping him out of nowhere. Starts telling his boys to call the cops on me. He wanted to call them about me."

Don fastened the bandage in place, deft with years of experience tending to himself and his brothers. Any one of them could bandage any wound blindfolded.

His gaze lifted to Raph's face, and he got the idea right then and there that whatever was wrong with Raph was serious.

It was always hard to tell where Raph was concerned. He was so moody all the time that a real smile out of him seemed like a hard-won miracle. But despite the temper and the grouchiness, whenever something really hit Raph deep he got quiet. Soft.

He could bitch for hours about Mike eating the last of a box of cereal, but when it mattered, he kept it all inside.

Don asked even though he knew he wouldn't get a real answer. "What's going on, Raph?"

"Nothing. Wild night, that's all. Makes me wonder what I'm doing, you know?"

Don nodded, though he knew if Raph was willing to talk about it than it wasn't the worst of his problems.

"We spend our whole lives protecting these people, and I don't know why. We don't belong to them. They're not our responsibility. We're like…stray dogs who just picked some family at random and fight to protect them, even though they don't so much as through out scraps of food."

Don thought about that. "In a way, I guess we are. But mostly we fight because we're trained. We're ninja, and that's what we do."

Raph snorted, looking away. "We didn't exactly get a choice, though, did we?"

Don's spine straightened. He regarded his brother's profile.

Raph looked back after a minute. "You ever realize you've spent the last few years just biding your time? I feel like…I'm going on automatic, just letting the days pass by until my real life can actually start. But times like this I realize…this is it. Nothing else is coming. This is all we're ever gonna be."

Don wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't good with words. He was good with things, with his hands, with machines and tools and research. He could quote a dozen philosophers if he wanted to. Tell Raph what Thomas Hobbes believed, about determinism and fate and things like that.

But Raph had the wrong kind of personality to be quoting at. Leo could've expressed it in practical terms. Mikey could've said something optimistic about some possible future where they had the world at their feet.

Instead Don just patted Raph's arm lightly over the bandage. "You're all done."

Raph let out a breath. "I wish." But he looked over and realized Don meant his arm. He shook it out, pulling away from Don. He drew a sai, testing out a few moves, and nodded his satisfaction when the bandage didn't bunch of shift.

"You're a good guy, Donnie."

Don watched him get right back into training. Sai flew back, he flew after it.

After a minute he left the dojo, quietly moving through the pipes from the living space into his own private room.

Something was wrong, and he wondered if it was worth mentioning to the others. Probably not, since he wasn't sure what it was.

Still, of all of them Raph was the one who never had trouble fighting. He jumped into battle with more enthusiasm than the rest of them combined. He was…violent, for lack of a less crude term.

To hear him start doubting it, to wish he was done having to fight…it was foreign. Wrong.

Add to that the realization that Raph wouldn't ever talk so willingly about the worst of his problems, and that meant there was even worse things on his mind.

Don told himself he would talk to Casey - figure out just what happened and see if he couldn't trace Raph's behavior back to it. And although he knew the odds of running into Casey without Raph around were slim to none, he felt better just having the plan.