A/N: All right! The sequel has finally arrived! Thank you all so much for waiting, I do hope I get a lot of my reviewers back! I'm sorry, but some of these first few chapters are going to be quite short, as I am pretty busy. I promise I'll try to get them out as soon as humanly possible, okay? I would love to have more reviews for this one than I did for "Chosen"... which, last I knew, had fifty reviews! So, I'm going to shoot for fifty-one... another part of the reason for shorter chapters, since it's a shorter story. Please, let me know if you love it/hate it/were bored by it/etc. For those of you not in the know, this is a sequel to my story "Chosen"... I highly recommend reading that first, but, after all, it is your decision! So sit back, and enjoy a little more drama written by yours truly... which reminds me...

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Only the ideas, the strange aliens, my TMNT DVDs, my TMNT games, and my TMNT shirt. If I had them, I wouldn't be writing down a story. I'd be making a movie.

He watched as his brother attacked the Gigen leader. There was a bright flash, and suddenly they were standing with their backs to each other. He held his breath as he waited.

Finally the Gigen fell to his knees and collapsed facedown into the sand. He felt a cheer begin to erupt out of him, but it was lodged in his throat when his brother turned to look at him. His eyes were glowing deep red, and he had never looked so angry before. Then he blinked, and the red glow was gone, leaving a pair of sad, regretful blue eyes. "I'm sorry," his brother whispered faintly before fading away.

"Mikey!" Don exclaimed, sitting up in his bed. He gasped for breath and looked around wildly for a moment. Gradually his breathing slowed down, and he closed his eyes in a effort to force his body to relax. He took a few deep breaths, trying to cleanse his mind from the troubling dream.

I wonder what it means, Don thought. It had been nearly a month since Mikey's awakening as the Chosen One, and this was the third time that Don had had that dream since their return home. It frightened him more each time he had it.

He glanced at his alarm clock and saw that it was only half past four. He knew he should try to get to sleep, but he couldn't - not yet, anyway. He had to go check on his little brother first. Anytime he woke up in the middle of the night now resulted in a trip to his brother's room, as if he subconsciously didn't believe that Mikey had really come back. When the Gigens had kidnapped Mikey, Don had been terrified that he was never going to see his brother again. That fear was still prevalent inside him. He was afraid that he would wake up to find Mikey suddenly gone.

He slid out of his bed and headed towards Mikey's room. He silently slid the door open and peeked in. He frowned slightly in concern. Mikey was tangled up in his blankets, and his face was twisted into a look of anguish. His lips were moving, but Don couldn't make out any words. A low moan escaped from the back of Mikey's throat as he turned over in his sleep.

Don immediately stepped over to the side of Mikey's bed, taking great care not to trip over any of the objects scattered on the floor. "Shh, it's okay, bro," he whispered, gently placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. Mikey's lips stopped moving, and after a moment, his entire body relaxed as he passed into more restful slumber. A faint smile touched his lips as he slept, and Don couldn't help but smile himself. This was the Mikey Don was used to seeing - the Mikey that didn't seem to have a worry in the world, who could always crack a joke when the chips were down. That Mikey had all but disappeared after the battle with Drexen, and, quite frankly, Don missed him.

Ever since they had returned, Mikey had become much more reclusive than he had ever been. He still cracked a joke every now and then, but they were fewer and far between. He could often be found in his room sketching in his sketchbook or jotting something down in a notebook or just staring off blankly at a wall.

He'd become a lot more aggressive during practice, too. He seemed to have picked up a lot of extra skill from becoming the Chosen One, and his new moves and abilities astounded even Master Splinter at times. Don looked at the nunchucks lying on the nightstand, nearly hidden underneath all of Mikey's pads and his orange bandana. The new Mikey was very talented and focused, but Don still missed the old Mikey. The old Mikey wouldn't hesitate to talk about his troubles, or about anything, for that matter; the new Mikey barely said more than ten words at a time. Don's gaze moved back to his sleeping brother. I'm worried about you, baby bro. We all are. But we'll figure out some way to get past this. Don't you worry about that.

A/N: There you have it. The first little part. Emphasis on "little". Keep in mind, this is still a work in progress. Actually, this is the first time I'm going to post a story that isn't completely finished. Luckily for you, I do have the next few parts written up... and you have the key to get them. See that little button on the bottom? Push it. I think we'll both be happy with the results. Thanks for reading!

moogsthewriter