Raph says nothing, only focuses on his brothers' voices, and the pull of exhaustion tugging him hard in the direction of sleep. He's not gonna be able to stay awake for much longer, but he wants to be right here, right now.

Part of this doesn't even feel real, and the other part... it feels like he has to remember everything about his brother all over again. Even the smallest mannerisms. The way he carries himself. How he talks with his hands.

It's not that he's forgotten. Far from it. It's more like looking at an old photograph, dusting off thoughts and memories that have gone unvisited for way too long.

So even as his eyelids are getting heavier, Raph never takes his eyes off his brother. Because the smallest part, the tiniest, most carefully guarded part of him that's just a scared and homesick little turtle, is afraid that he won't be there when he wakes back up again.