Just a fun little drabble fic that I cooked up when fics that had birthdays in itbegan to sort of annoy me. I mean, come on. There is no possible way that the brothers have different birthdays, unless they sat down one day and assigned each other specific dates. And the concept of younger/older is always an interesting thing for writers to mess with.

So here it is; Younger and Older.

Enjoy.

Younger and Older

The concept of younger and older had never really registered until human lives really messed with their own.

There was longer, harder, bigger, faster, and later smarter and better, and angrier and happier, but never younger and older. At least, not in terms of each other. Sure, there was older for Sensei, because he told them of moments when he was alone, or with his master, when the four of them didn't exist. The concept that there had been a time that they weren't around was hard to grasp, sometimes, but doable.

A time in which only some of the brothers existed while the others didn't, on the other hand? Impossible. They were born in the same moment, and they were sure it would forever stay that way.

That certainty had been shaken when they got their first TV working.

Ignoring the fact that the idea of sisters weirded them out completely, the idea of older and younger siblings just boggled them. The older had many privileges that the younger just didn't have, like a parent, only more... petty. Mean. They marvelled at how unfairly the older often treated the younger, nodding and sneering and deciding and agreeing that it was good, to be equa jjJjJl.

But there were times when the urge to compare, be it smarts or strength or skill or dedication, that made them blurt out words about 'if they were older' or 'you'd be the younger'... and well. They never ended well.

Splinter had been forced to intervene on one of the extremely rare occasions that Donatello and Michelangelo fought hard enough to leave bruises and cuts, all because of who should be younger or older. The equilibrium that'd been fostered so tenderly by their own volition had shattered simply by the concept of age.

There had been a serious talking to, then.

Which was why when Angel had asked out of the blue, "So, who's the eldest?"

Leo had winced, Raph had groaned, Don had snorted, and Mikey had made a face as if he'd stubbed one of his toes.

Obviously Angel had no idea how it could have been a touchy subject.

Though to be honest it really wasn't a touchy subject, just... embarrassing.

They'd had fights, and then speculative discussion, on who could be the eldest, if things had been, well, different. They had no idea how different, since that implied they wanted or thought of a world outside their own, and in a way they hadn't. Well, how different were they already, anyway? How could they be any more different?

That aside, they'd all had excellent reasons why they could have been older. Michelangelo had the raw talent. Leonardo had the discipline of a person far older than himself. Raphael was strongest. And of course, Donatello was the smartest.

Secretly they'd all coveted the 'eldest' rank for vastly different reasons. Donatello, in a way, hated being smarter than his brothers. He felt left out, he felt alone, sometimes he didn't know who to strangle for the sheer frustration of not being on the same academic wavelength as his brothers; them or himself. But if he was older? He had a reason for being different, he had a legitimate explanation for his difference. If he was the eldest, it would make his smartness less alienating.

For Raphael, he wanted it as a brand of authority to make his brothers listen to him, to protect them. He had the worst sleeping patterns of them all, so when all of his brothers were asleep, sometimes he snuck out and saw the world oftentimes at the most ugliest. He found humans gross. But it was a human world that they lived in, so if elder brothers held more authority, then fine. He would order his brothers to stay safe. He would order the humans as the eldest brother to leave them alone. If he was older brother, he could keep their lives safe.

For Michelangelo, it was really all about fun. The elder brother seemed to lead the siblings into all sorts of funny troubles, into adventures and game and everything else. You had to listen to the eldest, and sometimes that was really all he wanted. He wanted Raph to smile more; wanted Don to not think so much, and Leo to not worry and be so stiffy. If he was eldest, if he could make them all play and act their age, and if that eldest title made him get into trouble more, then he wanted it. He got into trouble the most out of his brothers anyway.

As for Leo, who saw his brothers as standing on their pedestals of cheer and brain and courage, just wanted a pedestal of his own to match them.

In the end, Splinter set them straight, of course. There were adults that didn't act their age, there were children who were wiser than Splinter himself. There were younger brothers that had more authority than their elder siblings. Age did not mean entitlement. And if they were so intent on being an elder brother still, then it was as Father and Sensei that Splinter, and nobody else, would choose.

Basically, like everything else in their life, it was a role that they would have to earn.

And funnily enough, they all rose to the occasion in their own way.

"Uh, it depends."

"What do you mean it depends?"

"On what we're doing," Donatello elaborated for Mikey, who was looking kinda sheepish as he put all the plates away, "We're human equivalents of quadruplets, so we have no older or younger. Not really."

"Cept for Junior here," Raph smirked, thumbing over his shoulder at Leo, who pulled away from his book to scowl at his supposedly younger brother.

"That is not true or fair, Raph."

"Yeah, you're right. When it comes to arm-wrestles you'll always be my lil'bro."

Leonardo closed his book, looking thoroughly irritated. "The idea that one of us is older or younger is stupid and pointless. It just doesn't work. It's not even possible to measure anyway, we hatched out of eggs."

"Remember how we joked that it would be the funniest thing if Don were the youngest, considering just how genius he is?" Mikey pointed out, sensing the Leornado rumbling on the horizon, "But I always got that one cuz I'm just so pretty."

"Pretty empty in the head, ya mean," Raph rejoined lazily as he went back to taking apart an engine with Don, earning an equally lathargic hi-five. Leo was once more quiet, moodily going through his history magazine.

They'd worked hard, as children, to be their idea of eldest brother. Provider of convenience and comfort. Enforcer of fun and freedom. An offering of sacrifice. Guide towards harmony and peace. Between themselves they managed to cover all things that made a good leader, providing each other what they craved most.

Safety. Love. Respect.

However, three of the four brothers knew who'd gotten the heaviest load. They surruptitiously glanced at him when Angel left for home that day, when they were throwing the pizza boxes in the trashcan, when the engines were placed in their respective vehicles, when the magazine was neatly placed away.

Humans had changed their way of thinking. There had never been an older brother, not really. But humans had effectively placed the concept of 'leader' firmly into their psyche, and though three out of four kidded themselves that they were leaders in their own field, they agreed without speaking a word that the final turtle, the real leader, would never have it as good as them, and they would be never be as good as him, either. A strange tit for tat. Freedom over power over freedom.

Leonardo waited for them at the elevator that led for home, frowning. "What are you guys waiting for?"

Mikey grinned and threw an arm over his shell, making him 'oof' in surprise. "Moi? Waiting for moi? Sacrilege. I make Speedy Gonzalez look slow-mo, and he makes Raph look like a snail."

"Says the lard-butt that spends all a'his time eating and playing games," Raph growled, moving to slap his brother upside the head only to be dodged.

"I dunno, Raph, you stink, sweat, and look so much like a wrinkly snail sometimes I wonder if you're actually a teenage mutant ninja reptile, bro. Or a ninja. Or a teen. Actually, are you sure you're not a mutant mega snail?"

"Why I ought'a-"

"Now, now," Don placated with a wry smile as Leo tried to fight a smile of his own, "Play nice."

The elevator closed its doors as Don entered and Mikey bit his tongue as it descended, earning a large smirk from Raph. "Speakin' of playin' nice, you still owe me a rematch on Mortal Kombat, Fearless."

They all saw the excuse and polite refusal coming a mile away, and swiftly it was cut off with a "Oh come on, it's my turn on the-"

"Actually according to the roster it is Raph's turn," Donny pointed out on said roster on the elevator, showing a sympathy as Mikey moaned and Leo patted him on the head as Raph gave a triumphant 'Hah!' "And he gets dibs on battle turns. Oh by the way, the new designs for a ray gun is coming on quite nicely."

"...Ray gun?"

"I got hooked on this Sing-along blog and I thought I might make a freeze-ray. It's only in a prototype stage right now so it can't shoot any ice-beams or anything, but... I made icecream with it."

"No way."

"Really?"

"Geeze, what kinda flavour?"

"Rum and raisin."

It was Leo's favourite. They all saw him teeter between duty and ice cream with gaming, and then dropped off the cliff of responsibility.

"Dibs on Reptile."

The three of them mentally fist-bumped.