K i n d l e

'Hi-yah! Humph! Hi-Yah!'

Sounds of training filled the lair, heavy and muffled. Raphael opened his eyes. He blinked, groggy, as he tried to make sense of the numbers on his clock. Four. Four a.m. Raphael scrunched up his beak, Leo only started training at five, why was he up so early? After a moment of contemplating just collapsing back underneath the nice, soft, warm covers, Raphael forced himself under his breath, he made his way to the Dojo.

The light was on, casting a soft, almost dewy glow beneath the doorway. Raph pulled the door open, peering round.

Mikey.

Michelangelo was in the middle of a fully-fledged workout. He attacked the punching bag with vigor, performing katas after katas, whirling his nunchucks at a dizzying pace.

Raphael raised an eye ridge, crossing his arms. He could see the drops of perspiration gathering on Mikey's brow and across the back of his neck. He must have been there for a while, training like this.

He was fighting well, Raphael noted, better than he had ever seen him, in fact. Raphael cocked his head to one side. He was fierce, the rage and anguish that twisted on his little brother's features might as well have belonged to him. He had to wonder, for a moment, whether Mikey was fighting out his demons.

He dismissed the thought.

Never.

Michelangelo stopped, dropping to his knees in the final position. He saw his brother bow, presumably more out of habit than actual respect.

There was a minute of silence before Mikey spoke, his voice low and controlled, "Raph." He didn't change position, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed, dude."

Raphael shrugged, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him, "Ya woke me up."

"Oh." Mikey pushed himself to his feet, turning to face him. Raphael could see a flush to his brother's damp face.

"Oh?" Raph raised his eye ridges, "What ya doin' training so early?"

Mikey shrugged, "Just training."

Raph wouldn't budge, "How long ya been at it?"

Mikey shook his head, "Not long, an hour, maybe two?"

"Long time to be up, don't ya think?"

"Maybe."

They stood in silence for a while; the air was awkward and thick.

"How long?"

Mikey furrowed his brow, "Couple years I think."

"Why?"

"Because I get it…" He took a breath, and Raphael noted that he looked awkward, unusually serious, "I get why Leo trains so much… I…." He shrugged, "I'm not gonna be a liability, the one who brings everyone down. I'm not gonna fail you guys."

He bit his lip and Raphael was surprised to see that his eyes were wet.

"Mike, ya aint a liability."

His brother seemed unable to speak and Raph took a step forward, gripping his shoulder.

Michelangelo looked up, startled.

"Get this through yer thick head because I'm only saying this once." He snarled, "You've never failed us, ya aint a liability and I'm proud ta call ya my brother."

Mikey looked at his brother, his eyes wide. After a moment, he swallowed, "Serious?"

Raph smirked and let his hand drop. He could feel the tension lifting, " Yeah, serious." His smirk grew, " Just don't tell anyone"

Mikey grinned, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. He scrubbed them with the back of his hand, blinking back the last remaining tears, "Oh? Not even Leo?"

"If ya wanna die a very slow and painful death, Mike, then, yeah, go ahead."

Mikey laughed, though his voice still sounded a little thick, "Sound interesting…" He started backing away, "Hey Leo…you'll never guess what Raph just told me…!"

Raph shook his head, a low chuckle escaping past his lips. He stepped forward, and Mikey took off running.

If he, Raphael, was the team's fire, the passion, the one that kept everyone on the go, then what kept him going? What was light enough, powerful enough to keep him burning?

There was a crash and a shriek and Raph started to laugh, openly, low from the pit of his stomach.

Mikey, he thought, does so much more than he knows.

This is my second fanfic, written as more of a character study than anything else.

What did you think?