Disclaimer: Not mine, as per usual. Playing with someone else's toys.

A/N: Written for Corey because he's awesome. Surprise. :)

False Idols

The lair is quiet when he comes home. It's always quiet these days, and though he should be used to it by now, he still finds himself unsettled by the silence. He waits for a moment before letting his skateboard clatter to the floor and announcing himself rather loudly. He hopes for a reaction, that either Splinter or Raph or Donnie will come out to greet him. He'd even settle for a shouted, muffled, half-hearted acknowledgment. But father's probably meditating, and Donnie's probably working, and Raph's probably sleeping.

The silence stubbornly clings, and Mikey sighs and lets his shoulders sag as he walks toward the kitchen. There, he pulls another piece of birthday cake from his satchel to put in the freezer for Splinter. The rat says he loves the cake Mikey's able to bring home with him, but Mikey can't help but notice that the pieces are accumulating faster than they're being eaten. He knows better than to question Splinter, knows that his father will insist he continue to bring pieces of cake home for him, and his brothers. And Mikey appreciates that, he really does, but he can't be sure if this is something Splinter really wants, or if he hasn't said anything in order to spare his youngest's feelings.

Deciding not to think about that too much, Mikey heads into the living room after wedging the newest piece of cake into the freezer. He sits down heavily on the couch, blindly reaching for the television's remote. When he finds it, he turns the TV on and begins to aimlessly channel surf. If he feels like being honest with himself, he's not really in the mood to watch TV, but it's something to do until he eventually falls asleep. It's still early on in the evening, and Mikey's never been one to go to bed at a decent hour, but ever since Leo left, there's nothing else to do but work and sleep.

Splinter's forbade them from going to the surface to fight, and so he and Donnie have both found themselves jobs. Neither of which are very glorious, but Mikey likes to think his is fun, at the very least. Kids love Cowabunga Carl, and even if he usually winds up being beaten by mobs of hyper ten year olds, at least he gets to go topside. At least he gets to see and interact with people, and so long as he wears that dumb rubber head and fake zipper on his plastron, no one will ever figure out the truth. Meanwhile Donnie's stuck down in the sewers day in and day out, taking calls and playing tech support. Which, really, is fine by Donnie, but Mikey wonders if he gets bored or lonely sometimes.

And then there's Raph, and nobody really knows what he does. He sleeps all day and disappears most nights and he doesn't talk to anybody all that much anymore, not even Splinter. His temper and his mood have been worse than usual, and so even when he is home, Mikey and Donnie tend to steer clear of him.

As he starts going through the channels for a second time, Mikey wonders what Leo's doing. It must be fun being out on his own, out in the depths of some jungle somewhere, training. Mikey likes to think Leo's having fun, at least – as much fun as Leo lets himself have, anyway. He knows that if he were in his place, if he had been the one sent away to better himself, he'd be having the time of his life right now.

But, then again, anything sounds better than gradually becoming a couch potato. His mind begins to wander, entertaining the idea of doing flips just for fun. Splinter usually uses flips as a form of punishment, but even those are beginning to sound good. Maybe he'll get up off the couch and push himself, see how many he can do before something gives –

This idea is pushed out of his mind quickly as something on TV finally catches his eye. It's the news, and normally he wouldn't bother with something like this, but the pretty anchor is talking about the Nightwatcher. He scoots himself forward on the couch and fidgets in his seat as he watches and listens to the report. He grins like the young fool he is and points at the TV, speaking aloud to himself – or to anybody who's actually willing to listen.

"See, now that's what I'm talking about! That's what we should be doing," he says excitedly, and he knows it's true. They should be the ones out there, fighting the bad guys and making headlines. They used to, and he misses it, and he knows his brothers have to miss it, too. He's not smart like Donnie is, but he knows that to laze around and do these mundane jobs goes against their breeding. They weren't brought up to have day jobs, they're hard-wired to be so much more, and they're all going a little stir-crazy because of it.

"Why're you wastin' time watchin' that crap?" Raph speaks from behind him, causing Mikey to jump and nearly fall forward and off of the couch.

"Uh, because the Nightwatcher is totally the coolest thing ever," Mikey explains, twisting a little and angling himself to look up at Raph better. Raph's expression is stoney, and just looking at him makes Mikey want to frown.

Raph raises one brow, cocking his head to the side. "You think? Looks like just some vigilante creep to me."

Mikey waves him off. "Please! With us outta commission, someone's gotta keep the baddies in check, right?"

Raph snorts inwardly, shaking his head. "Turn it off," he nods toward the TV. "No news is good news."

"Are you kiddin' me? Bro, check that guy out!" Mikey says and points to the TV. "This is the best news I've heard all day! If I can't be out there kickin' butt and takin' names, I'll live vicariously through that dude!"

Raph's brows raise. "Donnie teach ya that word?" he teases, purposely ignoring the rest of Mikey's statement.

Mikey huffs like a child and slumps down on the couch again. "Aw, forget it."

"I get it, you like the guy," Raph shrugs even if he's out of Mikey's line of sight. "And... sure, what he's doin', it's what we oughtta be doin', but it ain't what Master Splinter taught us." He speaks slowly, carefully, but Mikey doesn't catch the caution in his voice.

Mikey whines a little, quietly. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but it'd still be fun to be topside again, doin' our thing."

"Eh, who knows. Maybe one day, if Leo ever decides to come back, we can all go at it again."

Mikey frowns. "Leo's gonna come back, Raph."

Raph snorts. "What makes you so sure?"

"He's our brother," Mikey says and his brows knit together. "He's gonna come back."

Raph sighs and shakes his head. "Believe what ya want," he shrugs one shoulder, just as Mikey twists to look up at him again.

"Raph – "

"No," Raph raises a hand, and there's a twisted sort of grin on his face that Mikey doesn't exactly find any comfort in. "You believe what ya want. Believe Leo's gonna come back, and keep believin' that Nightwatcher goon's some kinda hero."

"But – "

"If Leo was gonna come back, he'd be back by now. It's been over a year and we ain't heard nothin' from him. And as for that Nightwatcher guy? He's just some vigilante punk who thinks he's better'n everyone around him, takin' the law into his own hands like he's got some goddamned right to."

"Raph, c'mon, I just – "

"Save it," Raph snaps, and in the back of his mind he wonders when his temper became so unmanageable, but then he remembers exactly when and how and why, and it's all Leo's fault.

He leaves Mikey after that, pretends he doesn't hear his younger brother's pained, "well, screw you, too," and heads to his room. Mikey will get over it; it takes a lot more than one of Raph's outbursts to drag him down, and for that, Raph is thankful. Mikey understands they're all hurt and confused right now, and he won't take the things Raph said personally for long. He'll rationalize in his own way, find the best there is to be found in both Leo's case and the Nightwatcher's.

And while Raph really can't speak on behalf of Leo, because he doesn't actually know if or when he'll be back, or what he's gone through, or how he feels, he can speak on behalf of the Nightwatcher.

As he holds the old, metal helmet in his hands, staring at his reflection in the tinted eye shield, he knows Mikey's faith isn't justified. He's no hero. He's no better than the thugs and crooks he takes down every night. When he started this whole thing, his intentions had been good and just and honorable, but over time something twisted and turned ugly. He puts on the suit and goes out every night to unleash his anger, and every punch makes him feel that little bit better in the heat of the moment.

It's wrong and it's dangerous and probably unhealthy, he knows, but he's come too far now. Even if his reasons for going out every night have changed, someone has to keep the ridiculous amounts of crime in this city in check. When, or if, Leo comes back, he supposes things will have to change, but until then, this is the only way he knows how to cope.

Later that night, when his brothers and father are sleeping, he puts the helmet on and mounts his motorcycle, he thinks of Mikey, and he thinks of Leo, and he misses having someone to look up to the way Mikey does the Nightwatcher. This past year, however, has forced him to do a lot of growing up, and he sees Leo in a whole new light, and it's not entirely complimentary.

It won't be long, he figures, before Mikey learns the truth, and thinks of him the same way.